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#or they want your snack
rakiah · 1 year
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Them
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montereybayaquarium · 2 months
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You don't have to twist our arms to have us share our love of the basket star!
These deep-sea denizens are echinoderms, a group that includes sea stars, sea urchins, sand dollars, sea cucumbers, and kin. The brilliant basket stars boast a compact body and long branching arms. This mesmerizing mass of twisting and turning limbs are expertly adept at ensnaring prey that drifts by in the currents.
🎥: Thanks to our research partners @mbari_news for the deep-sea footage!
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wholecakes · 4 months
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zoro who is so caught off guard by sanji’s kinder actions towards him is one of my favorite tropes. sanji crafting him specialized post workout snacks personally adjusted for him but still down to fight and call him names. he’s still the biggest asshole zoro has ever had the displeasure of knowing, and he’s horribly considerate. he’s a little confused but doesn’t reject any of sanji’s specialized treats. it’s not like sanji is fawning and doting over him like he does nami, so zoro feels like he can cross off sanji actually liking him from his list of reasons as to why sanji is acting like this. but it’s still fucking strange..
meanwhile sanji is in his kitchen wondering how zoro hasn’t taken a damn hint yet
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amelia-yap · 5 months
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I have discovered your Derg AU/Dragon Weiss and I’m very much in love. Thank you 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️
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glad to hear that! im very much obsessed about her and she holds all my brainworms captive
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obsessedwithstarwars · 7 months
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Danny: sticking snacks in the wall
Jazz: “Nuh-uh. You are not putting that in the wall.”
Danny: What?
Jazz: Your snack. Eat it now or seal it up and decontaminate it.
Danny: I want to save it for later. It’ll be a midnight snack.
Jazz: That’s fine. Just not in the wall, and it needs to be decontaminated first.
Danny: Why?
Jazz: Out of sight out of mind. Do you remember what happened the last time you put one of those in the wall?
Danny: What? Pssh. N-no. No I don’t remember anything. Nothing happened a-and I got to eat yummy snacks.
Jazz: Oh really? You don’t remember? Let me refresh it for you. Your snack became sentient, tore a hole through the drywall, and started attacking us. At 2am. We lost our security deposit.
Danny: The landlord couldn’t prove anything! They didn’t even show up on the security cameras!
Jazz: pointed look
Danny: sigh Fine. I’m hungry now anyway.
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saint-ambrosef · 3 months
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saying "it is not necessary to have sweets every day" should not be seen as controversial, but i have had people go for my throat for that take. its literally unthinkable apparently not to have a sweet treat on the daily (or multiple times per day).
i'm not saying "sugar bad" or anything, it's good to enjoy a little dessert every now and then. but i think a lot of Americans are so used to having a diet high in sugary foods, and it's so normalized and what so many people grew up with, that me saying "your kids don't need to have dessert every day" is accused of toxic diet culture mindset and depriving children of joy.
and the thing is, our sweets are really sweet. you don't notice it when you grew up with it, it just seems normal. but if you travel elsewhere or go on a low-sugar diet, suddenly our ice cream and cookies and donuts seem un-appetizingly overly sweet.
anyways i'm not saying don't give your kids dessert, but i think a lot of Americans underestimate how addicted they are to sweets. if the mere suggestion to limit the intake to once or twice a week gives you a knee-jerk reaction of fear/horror/disgust, "i could never! i earned this!", there is a problem.
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emmyrosee · 3 months
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The feminine urge to write non!curse au sukuna as super soft for his insignificant other but hides it under a wall of muscle and tattoos 💔
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clownsuu · 10 months
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Art block fucking sucks so
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Poppet got pastries for the gamers :]
Hope you feel better my gamer🏵️🥄🥄
aWEE look at thembs ;;;
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Hiii everyone, say, how do your Hawkes go go about sharing their estate? If they do it at all? Is everyone free to come and go or are they more private? Or do they only invite their LI to stay? I'm curious!! :)
#lay rambles#my ocs#oc: liam hawke#oc: lilian hawke#both my hawkes are very social w their friends but i love comparing their boundaries around it#theres variation in rules for specific ppl with both of them ofc but theres still general differences#with liam its all very open and everyone can p much come and go whenever#they dont get extra keys (theyll get lost and he doesnt want randos finding them lol) but they know where to find the spare key#and bodhan and sandal and orana know to let them in whenever#hes very lenient in this this regard but he does have rules abt what he does and doesnt want them to do#mostly its about not making too much of a mess lol bc liam prefers to clean himself#(he doesnt trust the crew with his household and also he has particular ways of doing things and Hates when theyre done differently)#so things like keep your dirty garb at the entrance dont cook by yourselves (this was banned after they did it one (1) time lol) etc#also no fucking allowed. do that somewhere else for the love of the maker he does NOT want to walk into that in his own house#(and it also comes back to liam not trusting them with cleaning but also Not wanting to clean that up lol)#also he is not fond of them going into his room uninvited. most of the house is chill but that is *his* space#he accommodates these rules by e.g. having spare slippers and a little washing basin in the entrance hall for dirty shoes/feet#always makes sure to have snacks in stock that he knows they like#food will have notes abt what to leave for leandra/orana/etc but otherwise food is prepared with his friends in mind#and in general he'll make sure to adjust the space/routine in little ways to accommodate them#(air out when fen isnt there cus he doesnt like drafts; keep curtains open cus anders prefers open spaces; etc)#lilian on the other hand doesnt like when her friends come into the estate without a heads up (cept for emergencies)#but once they have her 'ok' its basically mi casa es su casa#dont yknow. overdo it and get too rowdy but otherwise do whatever#however. she also expects everyone to clean up after themselves. she aint here to play maid and youre all adults#also liam has a general 'please try to not be too wild when leandra is here' and lilian doesnt#not cos she doesnt care but cos leandra is bothered by sth she can speak up herself#oh and lilian uses the basement space as temporary refuge for anyone who needs it (mostly escaped mages)#also side note: both offered gamlen to stay but he refused (out of pride/remorse)#...this got long and i ran out of tag space lmfao so this is it for now xD
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kate-bot · 1 year
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my “toxic”? trait is whenever i fixate on something my immediate reaction is to take myself to the pottery painting place near my house and paint it on a plate or a mug or a coaster. literally all of the plates in my house are like this
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floral-hex · 6 months
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I lied, I don’t want to have sex. Take off your shoes, we’re going to gently hold each other for the next 4 hours.
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ghouljams · 9 months
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I was just stalking your fae au and was reading the moose-creature-mimic posts, and I saw you mention that witch can feel when the mimic is trying to break her wards.
Whenever I hear about Fae, my mind immediately goes to the magic system from one of my favourite book series in which people who make wards have to develop wards for specific creatures, and if a creature that they haven’t warded against tries to enter, they can break through, if not break the rest of the wards.
Let’s say for a moment that something like that happens in the Fae AU, where some kind of unfamiliar creature from a foreign civilization comes a knocking on witches doorstep, and is able to break through her wards.
What do you think would happen? If Witch is connected to them, would Witch ‘break’ too? How would Price react to the pure panic and pain shooting through the tethers as an unfamiliar creature breaks through his darling’s wards?
I feel like she would be absolutely broken afterwards (if she survives that is-) Her wards are her safe space, she had never had that happen, she didn’t know what happened.
Would price still trust her to be safe in her own home?
Would SHE still trust her to be safe in her own home??
Just some thoughts 🫣
Oooooooooh. Ok yeah I can do some horror with this. Love the concept. So the Canon answer is that warding in this magic system can be as broad or as narrow as the caster wants. Wards can be weak and they can be broken, but it isn't going to harm the caster, maybe it'll give then a bad feeling but not any actual harm. Not a very good ward if it harms the wrong target IMHO.
For the Witch's home these are wards that are basically generations of people enforcing and reinforcing an all purpose boundary. It's an iron wall that nothing(save humans) is getting through without a permit, and it's tied to Witch both through her magic and her blood. She can feel when things mess with it, but it's like getting asmr, it isn't actually affecting her. She's mentioned before that her wards are threats, so anything that isn't stopped by a simple denial of entry is going to have those threats enacted upon it.
But let's say something broke her wards, let's throw some rocks through the windows and bust shit up. I am going on record to say, this isnt canon:
You feel something crack in the air before you feel it break. The splintering spiderweb of intangible bonds being pushed too far hits you between the ribs and you have to clutch the kitchen counter to stay standing. Something is deeply, desperately, wrong. You don't know how or why(or what) but something is working very hard to get in to your space.
It shouldn't be possible in the first place, you have known this house, these wards, your whole life and you've never felt it give way. You've felt it change, felt it ripple, felt it pop and fizz when it doesn't like what you've let in, but never this. Never the creaking pressure of it bowing inwards and splitting under its own tension. Your fingers wrap tight around your athame as you go to check your back garden, peaking through the curtains. There's nothing.
But you can feel it, you can feel it splintering like a pain in your chest. Tight and radiating out from your sternum. It tingles down your arm, makes your grip feel looser than you know it is. You grab your back door's handle, take a few breathes to give yourself strength, and open it to shoo away whatever is pressing your wards. And very suddenly the splinters give way, like a hole punched through a window.
It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. A cool breeze blows through your door, wrong so very, very, wrong. The smell of moss invades your nose, burdened with the scent of decay. Slime mold oozing against your desperate breaths. You tug your shirt to cover your nose and mouth as the battering ram that had been beating your barrier steps through.
The horns of it scrape your ceiling, actually that bothers you more than it should, you're the one that has to fix it later. Velvet hangs from its antlers, freshly scraped and red, gory and divine. It stands on two clover hooves, and looks at you with malice. If you can even discern an expression from the thing. It's face is completely smooth save for its eyes, or it was smooth. A crack forms along the bottom of its smooth surface, splintering and chipping as it rips its mouth open and screams at you.
The sound is overpowering, dizzying, you feel your ears pop and then the noise is gone, replaced by a persistent dull ringing. You truly wonder when your life got so interesting. You hate interesting. You blame Price.
You cough, gag. You have to drop your makeshift mask to retch against the stench of rotten decay on this thing. It smells like death, weeks old bodies left to fester where no one will find them. You gag again, fingers curling around your throat as you try to keep you athame raised.
Your wards are silent, you home is silent, and you realize that you've never actually experienced true silence. Something is always buzzing or humming with magic, you always have music playing or bottles clinking, you're always surrounded by sound. Now it's all stopped. Even the ringing in your ears has settled into a cottony muffle. You can't feel any of your magic. Your numbed to it.
You drop your hand from your throat to your chest. You can't even feel the tethers there. Your fingers move over the fabric of your shirt without catching, there's not tightness to pull, not warmth to catch. You feel cavernous, empty past empty. What the fuck is that thing.
Whatever it is it seems to have finished its evaluation of you. Finished working whatever spell it was weaving. It takes a step towards you. You don't wait for it to take another before running. Scrambling away from the broken seal of the door towards whatever is heavy and throw-able.
You do your best not to let blind panic take over, to not just run wherever feels safe. You've always thought it was silly when people in horror movies don't do the smart thing, but you've never been in a horror movie before. You bolt towards your bedroom. It's the best guarded room in the house. Even if you can't feel your magic it should still be there. Right?
You feel the swip of the things claws through the air as it tries to grab you. You run straight past your front door without a second thought, sure you don't want whatever that is to be unleashed on the general public. It's claws dig deep gouges into the plaster of your wall, and you pray it doesn't do the same to your bedroom door. You know it will, but it can't hurt to pray. You're not in the mood to be picky with magic right now.
You get your bedroom door closed just in time to hear it splinter as the creature throws itself against it. You don't bother with chalk, digging your athame into the door and scratching sigils and circles as quickly as you can. When you tap them they sit absolutely dead. You smack your hand against your messy circle, willing the magic to respond. You smack it again as the creature throws itself against your door. The circle stays as it was, motionless, silent, still as a drawing.
You are suddenly much more comfortable allowing panic to overtake you. If you're powerless there's really no reason to keep your emotions in check. Your breath heaves, short and quick as you back away from your door and look towards your window. No magic swirls, no books rip themselves from your shelves, your panic heightens and nothing happens. How mundane.
One of the creatures claws punches a hole through the center of your circle, then another, and another. You back towards your window as it grips the wood of the door and attempts to pull it from its hinges. Your fingers push at your window, try to find the seams of it, try to get it open. It doesn't budge, it feels like it's been painted on. You bang your fist against the glass without so much as a crack. The wood behind you splinters. The crunch of it deafening over the silence.
"Price, Price, fuck I am not fucking around Price please," You beg pressing yourself back against the window as the creature drops pieces of the door onto your floor. Even if your magic doesn't work his still must. You've never hear of a fae not responding to their name. Granted you don't know the full thing, you don't know if that's really his name and not just a nickname. It might hold no power without the tethers between you. That doesn't stop you from saying it like a prayer, hoping if you speak him into existence enough times he might come and save you.
Your shoulders are grabbed by an invisible force as you are physically shaken. Your ribs shake, muscles tensed too tight to even take a breath.
There is a wet ache spreading over your stomach, you begin to tilt your head down to see what's wrong and Price catches you. His hand holds the back of your head, pulls it back up and shoves it against his shoulder. "Don't look," he tells you just as quickly as he'd stopped you. You nod against his shoulder.
He pulls something from you, rips the proverbial bandaid off, and you bite him at the pain. It feels like your heart has been knocked out of place, like your ribs have been played as a xylophone. Your stomach twists on itself. Suddenly you are back in your kitchen staring at the cabinets, the space where the creatures antlers had scraped the ceiling. The scratches are still there.
Then the shaking starts. Every muscle in your body starting to unspool in a violent shudder that must quake the very earth you stand on. It's loud. The house is so loud. The wards are practically screaming at you, you threshold wails and sobs where it has been brutalized. Your back door is still swung open to red and orange leaves, a lovely autumn day that leaks the smell of wet earth into your home. Price turns to follow your shaking gaze and kicks the door shut behind him.
"What-" You can't get anything more out around the aftershocks of panic. You're sure your house must look like a war zone.
"Probably some American invention," Price mumbles, "You weren't under long, deep breaths."
You suck in a breath, press your know into his shirt to smell the cool tobacco. It helps. Price keeps a firm grip on the back of your head, keeps you looking where he wants you to while his other hand does something. He touches you in a way you can't explain. It's almost metaphysical the way he zips you up, just on the right side of freezing. You can almost feel his fingers moving muscle and viscera out of the way as he does whatever he's doing. Fixing whatever just happened.
"Fucking hell your wards shredded that thing, surprised it even had the strength to touch you," There's something at the edge of Price's voice, fear your think. You're not sure what he's scared of, it isn't a comforting sound.
"How're you-" You try to focus on the important questions, like why Price hasn't been shredded.
"You lit up like a damn Christmas tree, thought I was gonna have my own attack with the panic you shot my way," He draws his hand away from your stomach, apparently finished with his fussing, "wards were too busy to notice me slip in."
Makes sense, even now they're too busy with repairs to pay attention to your regular.
"It broke my door," It's funny what you latch onto once shock starts to set in. "What did it want?"
"Same thing we all want," Price tells you, and you hate hearing him say it(we), because he doesn't mean it kindly, "you."
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mossymeep · 2 months
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I haven't seen anyone talk about it on here (if they have I must have missed it), but I think the idea that tieflings wear matching horn jewelry with their partners instead of rings is Cute I think I've still got brainworms from the sylvans in dragalia lost
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jestroer · 5 months
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Bdubs and Impulse are acting so like Skizz's parents it's insane. Tango is also there
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jadewritesficshere · 6 months
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It's time
Alpha!Steve Harrington x Omega!Reader
Steve goes into his rut.
Warnings: omegaverse dynamics, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, knotting
18+ Only
Steve blearily walked into the kitchen. It was 1 in the morning and something had woken him. He couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was Eddie coming home late? Or you, finally getting off a shift (if they would stop switching your hours all over the place, Steve would be happy so you wouldn't be so exhausted). Maybe it was simply the thunder outside.
Either way, Steve awoke with a mouth dryer then the Sahara. He needed water. He felt extremely hot too. As Steve grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink, he stared at the rain pelting the house. Taking a quick dip outside sounded nice. Steve chugged the water, quickly draining the cup. He left the sink on and dove forward, drinking directly from the tap.
A low growl rumbled through him as he drank. The water was cool on his tongue, quenching his thirst, but he felt hot. Steve dunked his head under the running water. The cold water running over the back of his head and down into the sink. He panted into the sink, nails digging into the edge.
The realization of what was happening struck him at the same time your scent hit his nose. Your scent smelled so sweet. It beckoned him. It called unto him to go to you. To make you his. To have you cry out his name in pleasure. To writhe and pant beneath him. To knot you.
The thought jolted him. Steve wanted to knot you. Steve knew what was happening. His rut had come, sooner than anticipated. Steve wasn't supposed to go into his rut yet. They had always been on time, but he had never lived with an omega before. That was the only reasoning that would make sense in his mind. Last rut, directly after you presented, Steve had holed up at his parents house (not that they would ever know since they were never there). Steve didn't want to pressure you and thought being around you would have been the most bittersweet torture.
But now you were dating. Now you were his omega. And he needed you. Now.
Steve's head snapped up, water rolling off his hair and down his neck. Beads of water were rolling down his bare shoulders. He never slept with a shirt on, only a pair of boxers. But they seemed too constricting now that he had his mind set on you. He hastily shoved them off, his erection springing up.
Steve's hand fumbled with the spout, turning the handle to shut the water off too hard and hearing a crack. The water kept trickling out, now leaking. It had Steve pause, he didn't want to use too much force and hurt you. You were soft. Pliable. You were sweet. You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it.
Steve stumbled down the hall like he was drunk. Drunk on your scent. It beckoned him, calling like a siren to a sailor. He made it to your door and almost keeled over. It was too much and yet not enough at the same time.
Steve grabbed the door knob and yanked the door open. In his haste, the handle broke off in his hand. He inhaled deeply and exhaled a breath slowly. The door slowly creaked open as he stood there, staring at the handle in his hand.
Being in a rut, Steve forgot how strong he was. His thoughts only of you. Of pumping you full of his seed. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to be careful, or else he could hurt you. He didn't want to hurt you-
"Steve?" You called sleepily, rubbing your eyes and sitting up partly in bed.
He wanted to knot you. Wanted to have pups with you.
Steve felt like he was hyperventilating, taking breaths in and out so quickly. In one quick motion, he had slammed the door behind him and was on your bed. The door handle landing with a metallic clang on the hardwood floor.
You blink the sleep from your eyes as Steve slowly crawls up the bed towards you. A low growl escapes Steve, fangs peeking out between his parted lips. You can feel yourself become wet with arousal from anticipation. Steve's scent rolling of him, almost intoxicating.
You lay back on your forearms, watching Steve. Steve reaches your thighs, prying them apart. He leans in, nose brushing against your clothed cunt, and deeply inhales. Steve groans and inhales again, eyes locking with yours.
You can feel your slick soaking your underwear. You fidget slightly causing Steve to throw an arm across your hips to hold you down. "Smell so fucking good," Steve growls out. He nudges your clit with his nose causing you to jump. His tongue licks the slick seeping through your soaked underwear.
Steve moans at the taste. His fingers grip your thighs tighter. Steve opens his eyes to look up at you. Your eyes meet his, his eyes so blown they look almost black.
Your mouth is simultaneously dry and salivating at the sight of him. You can feel another gush of slick occur as your stomach alights with that familiar warm fuzzy horny feeling. You want him.
But he needs you.
"Please?" He asks, fingers flexing and pulling you closer. Even filled with the hormones from his rut, Steve thought of you first. You thread a hand through his hair,"I got you Alpha." Steve inhales shakily and nods.
On a normal day, he would take his time. Make sure you've orgasmed before him. Spend time being close and nosing at your mating gland, holding hands, whispering promises. Foreheads touching as he thrusts into you, fingers interlocked. When he takes you from behind, he envelopes you with his arms and holds you close. Soft and sweet.
But Steve can't. Not today. There is no soft and sweet in his mind. Steve can't even formulate words at this moment, just a low growl as he grabs your underwear. The sound of fabric ripping fills your ears as he tears the underwear from you.
Steve groans at the sight. You're drenched in slick. You look perfect. So ready for him.
Steve crawls up over you, face hovering over his. "I- fuck. I need-" Steve stumbles over his words as a whiff of your scent hits him. A scent that you've released to calm him. But he can also smell an undercurrent of your arousal.
"I got you Steve. I'm ready for you. Want you." You cup the side of his face with your hand and smile at him. Steve licks his lips before kissing you. He moans into your mouth as you return the same fervor. Steve can feel your tongue brush against his fangs before wrestling with his own tongue.
Steve lines himself up, cock catching on your hole. He teases your entrance slightly, feeling slick gush around him. Warm, wet, and fucking made for him. Steve growls as he thrusts in quickly, filling you to the brim in one motion.
You gasp slightly before a moan escapes. Steve sets a brutal pace. Fast and hard. The bed rocks with each thrust, headboard clanging against the wall. He shifts slightly, grabbing your legs and throwing them up over his shoulders.
At this angle, Steve hits that spot inside of you which every thrust. The thatch of hair and his pelvis hits your clit just right. A gasp escapes you with each thrust, sometimes being able to be formed into a moan.
"You're so- fuuucck. You. Omega!" Steve bites at your chin, close to your mating gland but not quite," So good. Gonna take care of you. Gonna fill you with my pups." You nod," Want it Stevie, please." "You're gonna get it babe. Gonna fuck gonna give you my knot. Make sure it sticks."
You tumble over the edge into pleasure. Your orgasm runs through you, leaving you shaking and spasming against Steve. You've never felt this good before. The pleasure was so immense it felt like you were floating.
Steve could feel your walls clenching around him. His abs tensed and he knew he wouldn't last. He thrust deep inside of you and came with a loud groan. Steve could feel his knot pop. You could feel his come painting your insides, the pressure of his knot holding you in place.
Steve collapses onto you. Steve pants heavily as he looked into your eyes. Careful of his knot, he wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his back, pulling you onto him. "You ok?" He manages to ask. You nod in response, laying your head against his chest. Steve can feel some of the hormones leave, able to think clearer.
"Not too much? We never...talked...about pups." Steve runs a hand up and down your back. You hum as you think before quietly saying,"Didn't think it would be this soon but...I want your pups Steve."
Steve's eyes shine slightly with unshed tears. He wasn't expecting to get emotional about it. You were his Omega. He would bite your mating gland today if he could- but he knew he should wait until after his rut. Steve didn't want you to think he only did it because of the hormones. Didn't want you to think it was "in the moment", even if he wanted to spend every moment with you.
He wanted to be your Alpha. Permanently. To take care of you. Wanted you to be his Omega forever. He can imagine a life with you. Growing old together and falling more in love. He can imagine you pregnant. Your swollen stomach, breasts full of milk. The way you would handle it with such grace. The perfect omega, not because you were an omega, but because you loved so hard and were amazing. Because you were you.
Steve can feel the heat start to come back as his knot starts to deflate. He wants to knot you again. You push off him slightly, sitting up and staring down at him. "Round two?" You grin down at him, running a hand through his chest hair. Steve groans and thrusts his hips up slightly," you're fucking perfect."
You begin to rock into him, slowly working your way up to lifting more fully off him and back down. Steve's hand lands on your hips, helping guide you up and down. He could stay like this forever with you. Gazing up at you with adoration, Steve hopes you want to stay like this with him forever too. His eyes land on your mating gland. He'd ask soon. Make it official. But right now, he was going to fill you up and knot you again.
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BRETT DALTON as Mark Trent Found 1.02 "Missing While Sinning"
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