#speck pumps

[sweetlolita666]

Dilf!rafe and size kink

TW; squirting, size kink, manhandaling, dominance, use of daddy, anal penetration ,vaginal penetration, breeding kink, chocking, hair pulling , over stimulation ,praising kink,degradation kink etc

You were laying on top of Rafe, all spread out, with you back to his chest and your legs bent outwards while he pounded his thick cock into your already abused and swollen pussy “d-daddy! Please I c-can’t- no more!” you managed to cry out, but that only made rafe slap your clit and grip your hair harder, pulling your head back, making your back arch even more, you were completely stretched out for rafe to use “shut up, look how well your tiny pussy is taking my cock” a white ring of cream appeared at the bottom of his dick from your three earlier orgasms “such a whore for daddy, just a tight hole for me to use” he moaned out gripping your throat harder.

All you saw were black specks as your eyes rolled at the back of your head and you gripped his forearm that was chocking you harder “fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum” you screamed out, your voice hoarse from fucking for hours straight, your legs shaking and clit pulsating.

“Not yet” Rafe drilled his thick pipe into your hole harder, hitting that spongy spot at the end of you cunt repeatedly, “please, please daddy, use me” you moaned out desperately wanting him to break you.

Suddenly he pulled out of you making you turn your head at him with cum on your face from him face-fucking you before and tears in your eyes, “what are you d-doing, d-daddy please” a hiccup escaped your lips as you pleaded for him to fuck you “don’t worry baby, I just wanna feel all your holes” he grinned as you winded your eyes. Lifting your ass and arching your back more he stuffed his cock into your tight ass hole. The pain mixed with pleasure, had your eyes rolling at the back of your head once again, as a high pitched moan escaped your pouted lips “oh my fucking god, that’s it daddy, fuck me” at that Rafe started aggressively pumping you full of his cock inside your ass .

“fuck, gripping me so nice” your tits bounced up and down at his rapid pace as you chocked out moans while sobbing “your dick is so good daddy!” You sobbed more, lightheaded from his pipe drilling inside of you, feeling him inside your guts.

Suddenly a scream escaped your mouth as his fingers settled on your swollen clit and grunting loudly Rafe started rubbing on your red bud. Rafe moaned out as he abused your hole and rubbed faster your clit, high pitched broken moans coming from you on top of him “fuck don’t s-stop, I’m gonna cum!”

You screamed out as fireworks exploded in your vision, your pussy gripping him like a vice as he hissed and finally your belly snapped and you screamed out as clear liquid drenched your thighs and his cock. Moaning he rode you through your high as he pumped your ass full of his cum “fuckkk, let me pump you full of my cum” you whined “please daddy need your cum” your hole milked him dry as you slumped against him, body shaking.

“such a good girl”

Ps: send me some ideas for me to write 💌

[itachiiwrites]

♡ You recently moved into an upper-crust, upscale neighbourhood in Roppongi with your new found abundance, a copious amount of money really, thanks to your job's generosity. To add to the newfound luxuries you also had the bonus of a neighbour next door that was not only hot, but also a fucking dilf. The universe really working in your favour.

You were trying your best not to swoon upon the flex of his beefy arms as he so kindly helps you out with some of your stuff moving in. God. He has a humour too.

Next door hot Dilf!Satoru with his adopted gremlin teenager is a little odd and eccentric, but sweet nonetheless. The one who always greets you with a bright, radient smile with his pearly whites and you return him an unassuming smile.

Little did he know you were going inside your home to be all spread out in front of your clean cut set up, hiding that skimpy lingerie underneath your clothes, all prepared for the cam show.

He didn't know how you were doing to fuck yourself to the thought of him and on a dildo that you imagined to resemble his cock while the donations deluges your bank account abundantly. How you played and pinched with your specked and pretty studded nipples with one hand while the other one pathetically lunged the dildo in and out of your stupidly sloshed, drenched cunt. Your body feeling like it was ablaze, blood roaring in your veins. The image of your neighbour putting you in a headlock as he fucked you with vigour was all that clouded your thoughts and made you wetter than you ever were in front of the camera.

There was another side you didn't know to it.

How Dilf!Satoru was that one user on your OF that made the most magnanimous, almost too generous donations. Who was currently locked in his bedroom, stroking his big, weeping cock in slow pumps. His eyes unwaveringly focused on the screen of his ipad, sending in his ample share for the current live show with a content hum and blissed smile, seeing you so fucked out. In an awe.

His back was comfortably pushed into the mountain of pillows behind him, his toes curled slightly outward as he watched you pump that silicone dick into you faster, his fist immediately pumping his cock in tandem with your pace, almost feeling your pussy around him vicariously. Almost.

But that unfulfilling sensation of his fist paired with your soft moans that lilted an undeniable sensual tone as your thighs shook in a shattering orgasm with squirting was a harrowing punishment...

Dilf!Satoru nearly weeped that it wasn't him who made you do that, turning green with envy at goddamned plastic dick. His was mouth agape as he found hot, thick spurts of his cum spill onto his chiseled abdomen and stomach, not even noticing the burning scent that floated in his house. His mind only focused on how he could show up at your door and finally take you for himself.

But that bubble was quickly bursted with Megumi thudding his fist loudly against his closed door, the boy's voice coming out in a roar.

"Can you come out you fucking idiot, you burnt the pan!"

Fuck.

[swimmingpoolpumpsuk]

Winter Safety Pool Covers Protect Your Family and Your Investment

What happens if pool is not covered in winter?

If a pool is not covered in winter, several potential issues can arise. Here are some of the common consequences of not covering your pool during the winter season:

Debris accumulation: Leaves, twigs, dirt, and other debris can accumulate in the pool when it is left uncovered. This can lead to a significant mess in the pool, making it more challenging to clean and maintain.

Algae growth: Without a cover, sunlight can reach the pool water, promoting the growth of algae. Algae blooms can cause the water to turn green or cloudy, making it unappealing and requiring additional effort and chemicals to treat and restore the water clarity.

Water evaporation: Winter winds and temperature fluctuations can cause water evaporation from the pool. This leads to a loss of water volume, and you may need to constantly add water to maintain the proper water level.

Increased chemical consumption: With exposure to sunlight and the presence of debris, the pool water's chemical balance can be disrupted. Algae growth, increased evaporation, and debris breakdown can lead to imbalances in pH levels, sanitizer levels, and other water chemistry parameters. As a result, you may need to use more chemicals and spend more time balancing the water chemistry.

Damage to pool equipment: If your pool has equipment exposed to the elements, such as pumps, filters, or plumbing lines, they may be susceptible to freezing temperatures. Freezing can cause damage to the equipment, leading to costly repairs or replacements.

Safety hazards: An uncovered pool poses a safety risk, especially for households with children or pets. Accidental falls into the pool can result in serious injuries or even drownings. It's crucial to prioritize safety and take appropriate measures to secure the pool area during the winter.

While covering the pool may require some effort, it helps protect your pool from the potential issues mentioned above. By covering your pool, you can minimize debris, maintain water cleanliness, conserve water, reduce chemical consumption, and enhance overall safety.

What should I cover my pool with in winter?

When it comes to covering your pool in winter, there are a few options you can consider based on your specific needs and budget. Here are three common choices:

Pool Safety Cover: A pool safety cover is a sturdy and durable option that provides both safety and protection during the winter months. These covers are typically made of solid vinyl or mesh material, which prevents debris from entering the pool while also ensuring that it can support the weight of a person or pet if they accidentally walk on it. Pool safety covers are secured tightly to the pool deck using anchors and straps, creating a barrier that keeps your pool clean and safe during the winter season.

Winter Pool Cover: A winter pool cover, also known as a solid cover, is a popular choice for many pool owners. These covers are made of heavy-duty vinyl or polyethylene material and effectively keep leaves, dirt, and other debris out of the pool. Winter pool covers are typically secured to the pool using water bags or heavy-duty springs and anchors. They provide protection against sunlight, which helps prevent algae growth. However, it's important to regularly remove accumulated rainwater or melted snow from the cover to prevent sagging or damage.

Leaf Net Cover: A leaf net cover is designed to work in conjunction with a winter pool cover. It is a lightweight mesh cover that sits on top of the winter cover, acting as an additional barrier to catch leaves and larger debris. The leaf net cover makes the process of removing leaves and debris in the fall and winter much easier. When it's time to open the pool in spring, you can simply remove the leaf net cover and easily dispose of the debris, leaving the winter cover relatively clean.

Before choosing a cover, consider factors such as your climate, budget, and specific requirements. It's also important to follow the manufacturer's instructions for installation and maintenance to ensure proper use and maximize the lifespan of the cover.

Is safety cover same as a winter cover?

No, a safety cover and a winter cover are not the same thing, although they serve different purposes. Here's the difference between the two:

Safety Cover: A safety cover is a type of pool cover that is designed primarily for safety and to prevent accidents, particularly for households with children or pets. These covers are typically made of solid vinyl or mesh material and are specifically designed to support the weight of a person or pet if they accidentally walk or fall onto the cover. Safety covers are secured tightly to the pool deck using anchors and straps, creating a strong barrier that keeps the pool inaccessible and provides peace of mind during the winter months or when the pool is not in use. While safety covers offer some protection against debris, their primary function is to prevent accidental entry into the pool.

Winter Cover: A winter cover, also known as a solid cover or pool cover, is designed to protect your pool during the winter season. These covers are typically made of heavy-duty vinyl or polyethylene material and are intended to keep leaves, dirt, snow, and other debris out of the pool. Winter covers are secured to the pool using water bags, heavy-duty springs, or anchors. They help maintain the cleanliness of the pool by blocking sunlight, which reduces algae growth. While some winter covers can support light loads, they are not designed to be walked on and do not provide the same level of safety as a dedicated safety cover.

In summary, safety covers are primarily focused on preventing accidents and providing a strong barrier, while winter covers are meant to protect the pool from debris during the winter season. Depending on your needs, you may choose to use either a safety cover, a winter cover, or a combination of both for maximum safety and protection.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Yandere Fae!, who keeps you hidden away deep inside his castle, away from any unnecessary prying eyes, be it human or the eyes of other immortals such as himself. Your meeting was one of chance and the years of fighting have taught him to cherish all the things he wishes to keep.

Keep your enemies close, but your friends even closer. That was his own personal spin on that old saying.

Yandere Fae!, who is just content with you being close. It does sting with how hard you try to escape but he is sure that his home will grow on you.

He is a lonely man. He has fought valiantly for his king, serving as a knight for his realm for ages. Many of his peers said to him that he ought to take on a human lover, or several if he so wished. While eternal life was tempting to many, the taste and vibrancy of humanity was too good to just be ignored. Humans always aim to please, which always made them such marvelous little lovers. He never understood how so many of his brothers and sisters fell head over heels for a human by simply glancing at them.

Yandere Fae!, who upon first seeing you all alone treading deep within his mortal domain, cannot help but to be smitten. You reek of sweat and sweetness, his pupils dilating dangerously as he pictures what it would be like to sink his teeth into your soft neck. He feels his wings fluttering behind his back, urging him to make a move.

Even from this current distance, he can sense the hot blood pumping through your veins, deceiving you into going straight into his arms. Gentle specks of magic dance carefully on his fingertips, the glow just barely visible in the lush green of the forest.

He may be immortal and eternally youthful but it all paled in comparison to how he felt about you.

Yandere Fae!, who showers you in endless silk and gold, also cannot help but to mess with you just a wee bit.

It's in his nature, he cannot help it.

His tricks keep you on the edge of your seat - will he trick you into thinking you're back home just to see how you'll react? Will he cast a completely different illusion on you? Will he put something inside of your food, forcing you to either dance or weep against your will?

It was horrifying, trying to keep up with all of that.

But, that was the nature of the Fae.

[hairyjocktf]

Dude hot as hell blog and all that hair on the jocks..im a jock too but love to see what it be like as a hairy jock please?

You’ve been a jock for years, star of the soccer team, but you always saw these older guys walking around with hair poking out of their shirt collars and wondered, what if that was me? Well no more. After practice one day you stayed around the locker room after everyone left. The musky stench of sweat hung in the air as you eyed a leftover jockstrap on the bench across from you. In a moment of fervor, you grabbed it. It was crusty with cum stains and stunk of who knows what. You brought it up to your face and took a big inhale; I’m talking a huge whiff of jock stench. Your head was overwhelmed, a cloudy fog overtaking you as you fell back against the lockers. You feel an itch flare up in your armpits, upon raising your arm you see what was a modest tuft of light hairs thickening up. Your follicles mature as they begin pumping out thick, dark hairs that quickly begin to tangle together into a proper bush to catch all that sweat. Within moments you can smell your own odor growing more pungent. You lift your other arm to see the same sight, the dark curls of hair popping up and expanding outward, escaping the bounds of your pit. 

Fuck, thats hot. You reach in and grab at the blossoming coils, wiry hairs gliding between your fingers as you feel how thick they’ve gotten. Your mind and body are in agreement as your cock quickly stands to attention, leaving a growing wet stain on your shorts. You look down at your bulge and see the beginnings of a treasure trail poking up above your waistband. Your cock lurches, pulling the elastic band out enough for you to see into your underpants. Underneath, your trimmed bush was growing wild, tendrils of thick black hair expanding from the base of your thickening cock. The curls spread like wildfire, coating your entire groin in a thick musky jungle before climbing up your stomach. Your chiseled abs began to disappear beneath a growing layer of hair, strands shooting out and tangling together. 

The growth made its way up to your pecs, where in between the muscled mounds thick hairs began to crop up like weeds. They grew dense in the center of your chest as a shadow of stubble slowly graced your pecs. From those dark spots emerged a field of growth, thick curly hairs that sprouted across the open expanse of muscle and wove into a masculine rug. The hairs continued to spread, reaching out to connect with the bushes under your arms, and crawling up slowly to your collarbone. A thick tuft sprouted just in the center, always sure to poke out of your jersey.

Your body ached as muscles expanded. Your pecs puffed out more, traps and delts pushing out as your arms swelled with size. Your quads felt like they were on fire as they doubled in size, and your torso took on the shredded v-cut look. Atop those new muscular limbs, hairs began to pop out of formerly smooth skin. Your thighs grew a thick coat connecting up to your pubes, with calves pushing out a wiry rug too. Your feet popped as they grew larger with hairs popping up across your toes; you’re gonna need some new cleats now. Your ass feels sore as it tightens, a dense mat of hair coating both cheeks.

The hair on your collarbone continues its march, spreading out over your traps and shoulders. Your delts erupt with a thick coating of fur that races down your arms, biceps and triceps vanishing underneath. Your forearms tingle as an incredibly thick forest sprouts across them, climbing up the backs of your hands and fingers as you rub them through your fur. You feel an itch across your back and can only assume it’s been given the same coat as your front side. 

You look back up into the mirror to see your babyface shifting, jaw squaring up and hardening as stubble begins to crawl up your neck. Your cheeks itch as the shadow crests your jawline and climbs up towards your eyes. The dark specks quickly begin to gush hairs, follicles pumping out dark thick strands that bury your face beneath. Within moments a luscious wiry beard has uncased your jaw, and you look closely to see your upper lip is still bare. In your reflection you can see a solitary hair push out, lone and dark. Soon, another joins it, followed by several more. Your mustache fills as hairs flow like a waterfall, connecting to the rest of your beard and sealing your fate as the hairiest jock on the team.

[mrs-incognito1]

3:09AM - Ghosts Lonely Deployment Masturbation.

Warnings - masturbation, nudes, praise, sexual stuff.

He’s been deployed and masturbates to a video of y’all.

Long time no see y’all, sorry I ditched 💀.

I take requests :)

———————————————————————-

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Ghost says in his signature gruff Manchester accent as he caresses Y/N’s flushed cheek. Her eyes are screwed shut as the flash from his camera shines in her eyes, creating a glistening effect on her body as her flesh is slick with sweat. Ghosts pubic bone grazes against her clit as he thrusts back into her, she moans and her eyes roll back into her skull with pleasure. “Mmm, good girl,” Ghost says as he pushes his thumb past her plump lips and into into her mouth, rubbing the pad of his thumb around her tongue, encouraging her to suck. 

“Look at the camera for me, love.” Ghost says lowly. Y/N opens her eyes as best as she can, squinting slightly from the flash above her. Lust clearly swirls within her blown out pupils, she gives the camera innocent doe eyes as she takes his cock. Ghost groans lowly as he re-watches the video. 

Ghost pumps his dick faster as he begins to feel his orgasm approaching. His hushed moans and groans appear to echo in the dull space he found, away from fellow soldiers and unfortunately away from Y/N. His head lulls back and his cranium lightly bumps against the wall he’s leaning on. His eyes shut tightly, seeing specks of white amongst the pitch black of the back of his eyelids as his hearing begins to zero in on her elicit moans that sound from the speaker of his phone. 

Ghost’s cock twitches from within his moist palm as a white halo of his spit and precum begins to form at the base of his dick. “Simon...please” Y/N whines within the recording as his fingers reach before him to rub teasingly slow circles on her clit in the video. Ghosts toes curl from within his combat boots as he pushes his skull deeper into the wall behind him, leaving somewhat of a dull ache. 

He lets out a strained whimper as his orgasm washes over him. His chest rises and falls rapidly as his breathing quickens. Spirts of hot cum ooze from his tip, angry and red with repressed arousal. Ghosts hips buck up into the air in desperation, his heart rate quickens and the grip around his phone tightens into a deathly grip, turning his knuckles white.  

He lets go of his cock, the palm of his left hand now aching and sopping with his cum. Ghosts dick twitches as he turns his attention back to the video still playing on his phone. Y/N moans lewdly from under him as he paints her torso with strings of white cum, groaning into the camera as he gives her all that he has. “Perfect girl.” Ghost says to her as he caresses her inner thigh, the camera goes blurry as he leans down to kiss her, before the video ends, leaving Ghost in silence. 

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: 🤭)

Word Count: 621

Summary- You can take it. You will take it; just like the good girl I know you are

Warnings: Size difference, Things break, Emmett stuffs you like a boston cream donut

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Emmett Cullen x Fem! Reader: Kinktober Day 6- Size Kink + Cumflation

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

"S'too big~" you moan.

Emmett's arms bulge from grasping the headboard above you as he works his cock into you. His muscles almost pulse from restraint.

"You can take it," he grunts out, wood creaking under the force of his grip. "You will take it."

You feel like you're being torn apart in the best way possible. His girth stretches you well beyond what you thought was possible. He always does -not that you can complain.

The further he shoves his cock into you, the further your back seems to arch off of the bed. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck- Emmett~"

You're surprised the sheets haven't ripped with how hard you're gripping them.

Emmett grunts out, eyes shut as he bottoms out. He practically shakes with the effort of holding back.

Your pussy clenches as it tries to get used to the sheer size of your mate.

*crack*

You don't have to open your eyes to know the headboard is splintered under his grip.

"God damn it, babe-" he grits out with clenched teeth. "If you do that again, I won't be able to hold back-"

"S-sorry," you gasp out. "Please move- please, Emmett- fuck me…"

A vicious snarl tips through the room at your words. Without warning, Emmett pulls out of you and slams back in. Your hands fly up to claw at his back and side; anything to ground yourself against the onslaught of pleasure as his carnal desires take over. The room echoes with the sound of skin on skin and the filthy squelch of your soaked pussy.

You cry out as Emmett pounds into you. His name falling from your lips in a symphony of lust and ecstasy.

"So fucking tight, baby-" Emmett growls above you. He heaves with unnecessary breathes as his hand sinks further and further into the solid wood of your bed frame.

"Oh, god~" you gasp, moans being punched out of you with each hit to your cervix. You can feel yourself spiraling insanely fast towards release as he abuses your cunt.

It only worsens as Emmett tosses one of your legs over his shoulder, burying himself inside you impossibly deeper. You swear you can feel him in your womb with how deep he's hitting.

Sharp huffs and grunts are falling from Emmett as he hangs his head between his shoulders. "Feel so damn good- s'like this pussy was made for me. You were fucking made for me, baby- my sexy fucking baby~ look at you, taking my cock so fuckin' well."

It's all you can do to keep your sanity as you cum. Your thighs shake with the force of your orgasm as your knuckles go white with exertion.

With how tight your cunt clenches around him, Emmett quickly follows, emptying his spend inside of you with a low rumble. His palm shoves through the headboard, punching into the wall as he falls forward. Specks of drywall and wood land on the bed around you as he continues to fuck into you.

Your silent scream turns into a soft whine as his balls pump more cum inside of you. You feel like you're going to burst with how full you are.

"Too much-" you moan out, hips shifting as he sets your leg back down.

All of a sudden, Emmett stills inside of you. "Fucking hell- Baby-"

You force your eyes open at the tone of his voice. He's staring down at your stomach with a mix of concern and pride.

Following his gaze, your own eyes widen:

Your stomach is slightly distended from how full you are. With his cock still plugging you up, Emmett's cum had pooled inside you to the point of inflation.

"Damn that's hot as fuck-" Emmett breathes out.

[1k1ga1]

Hello!! New follower here! Do you make request for dion agriche? Can you make a continuon of but you can't stay away from me? It's it correct? Or not i hope, im not really good at english, Sorry!!

❝𝓜𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 , 𝓜𝐈𝐍𝐄 , 𝓐𝐋𝐋 𝓜𝐈𝐍𝐄…❞

━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐀 / 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃’𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐗 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 / 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 18+ , 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 , 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 , 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 , 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑

━━ 𝐀/𝐍 💭 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐎𝐎𝐂 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 :p

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t know how to love someone. he was nurtured inside the womb with resentment and entered into this world as an unloved child, loathed by his own blood, his own mother.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who desperately yearns to know what it feels like to love and to be loved. to be cherished by someone unconditionally despite the stygian blood pumping in his veins and the innocent life untimely looted by his hands. wether it be familial love, platonic love, or romantic love, he just wants to experience something. just once in his life so he could believe himself to not be an unlovable child, and yet people only seem to have contempt reserved for him, and so he never knew how to express this inherent need.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was the first to feel the attraction towards you, the only person who reached a hand out to him while wearing a bright smile and not a scowl of disgust. your kindness had touched the forsaken child in him that constantly pleaded to be treated with even a speck of affection. he only felt himself more charmed by you since, invoking dion to desperately cling onto that feeling of what he believed “love” to be—and perhaps it purely was, at first anyways.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who fell deeper and deeper into the pit of attraction until his usually logical mind becomes shrouded, believing his growing infatuation towards you to be love and he was willing to do anything to have you return his affection. even if it meant stripping you of your loved ones and precious lifestyle, even if it meant confining you to his room brimmed with empty luxuries for your amusement, even if it meant all your heart could ever spare him was your vitriol. he wholeheartedly believed that you would one day return his affection because he simply adored you too much for you to resent him forever, and he’d show you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was deeply touched when you were confirmed to be pregnant with his child, a sense of feverish delirium that he’s never even experienced even on his birthdays fluttering through his chest. he was convinced the child in your womb to be the greatest embodiment of your love, that its existence must’ve reified your love for him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who swore to himself that he would love your child, even if he didn’t know how to. the forsaken child in him has already known what it’s like to be nourished by enmity and abhorrence, something that still haunts him into adulthood, and dion wishes to shield your child from that kind of treatment because its existence is precious and lovable purely because it shared your blood, and dion thinks every part of you is lovable.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who usually indulges your every whims (not that you usually have many requests for him), but begins to overindulge you during your pregnancy. even if you didn’t ask for it, he hires tailors to consult with you about specially-designed baby clothes. he even builds a brand new room with a playroom that would be connected to your shared bedroom so you could easily have access to the baby, and even allows you to decorate it however you want.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who follows you like your own shadow during your pregnancy, which really isn’t that different. he can’t really help it. the agriche mansion is a dangerous place with his savage siblings lurking around, always on the hunt for a new toy. even though they know not to test their limits with the unofficial favorite child of their father and his lover, they can torment you in ways other than physical and it makes dion fret for your health as well as the child’s. it’s better to be safe and sorry, even if he sometimes receive sharp glances from you when trailing after you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who worries over your health so much he creates a whole new diet for you with strict rules regarding things you’re allergic to and things that might negatively affect the baby. he also rarely allows you to walk on your own two feet for too long, always timing your steps in his mind and anticipating the moment before you begin to feel worn out. he always swoops in to bridal-carry you in his arms to wherever your destination is, and takes your lack of comment as it’s own form of praise.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who monitors the growth of your belly bump every end of the week. he always glide his hand over your stomach to feel the baby’s heartbeat because he’s trained to detect any heartbeat and feels comforted by the fact the baby’s heartbeat grows stronger every time he checks. he’s also quite fond of caressing your stomach once a bump starts to form, no matter how subtle. especially when the two of you are in bed together, he always has a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby could sense his effort to become familiar with it.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who spoils you with new clothes and imported accessories because your body’s changing and he wants you to be comfortable. even though it might not seem like it most of the time with his indifferent expression, dion cares very much for your happiness and does whatever he can to keep you contented, although with some limits. wether this means spoiling you rotten or allowing you to order him around, dion actually won’t mind and will do as you say, although it seems you rarely ever do so.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who gets incredibly anxious when your due date approaches. he’s complied a lot of information about child birth throughout you pregnancy, just in case you go into labor before your due date, but that only means he’s also aware of the risks of giving birth, and for the first time ever, he feels fear not for himself but for another person. he gets incredibly sensitive during this time, especially his senses which goes haywire any time your heartbeat starts beating quicker than it usually does because of course he has your heart beat memorized. let’s just say a lot of good servants were lost during this time since dion needed many stress relievers.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is in full-blown panic mode when the big moment comes, and for him that means blanching paler than a dove and cold sweat drenching his entire body. he doesn’t even realize it but his body’s shaking because he feels pain even though he’s not wounded; your painful cries and sobs are enough for him to feel as if he’s been stabbed by a sword—no, perhaps even something so macabre couldn’t compare to what he felt when he was utterly helpless whilst you were suffering through something purely agonizing. he holds onto your hand as if you were his lifeline, and even your worst grip couldn’t get him to let go of you first.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who thinks to himself that maybe having only one child is enough. he partly believes so because he has no desire to see you in so much pain and losing unnecessary blood again, but also because he doubts wether he could love more than one child. dion’s heart is not nearly big enough to love more than you and hopefully this child, he could barely even love himself, and even then, dion doubts he would ever cherish your child more than he did you. even if you had asked so if him, he would fail to do it.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who feels lightheaded when he sees the bloody mess that spills from you. no, he’s not disgusted. he’s seen things much more gruesome and grotesque things, yet the fact that blood is coming from you makes him terribly anxious that something might go wrong and he might lose you. for the first time ever in his life, dion prays to something, anything for your safety because he’s simply helpless and he’s not used to it at all.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t hear the baby’s cries but only your sigh of relief when the child is born. he immediately jumps to make sure that you’re fine and healthy, briskly checking your pulse and placing his ear near your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat. it has always calmed him down before and it works like a charm to calm him down once again.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who’s completely taut when the worries finally leave him. he’s like a dear caught in headlights that doesn’t know what to do, and his hands tremble slightly when the child is finally presented for him to hold. he first turns to you for a look of confirmation, and your hesitant yet nod of assurance had him gently taking the sniffling baby into his arms. it’s so small and delicate that dion doesn’t think he’s ever treated something so gently before—well, maybe you were the first.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who finds himself staring at its oddly shaped face as if he were bewitched. a smile never made its way to his callous face yet there’s a shine in his ruby eyes and an undeniable flush of excitement to his pale cheeks. even though he doesn’t find your child as adorable as you did at first, the beaming smile you wore as you held it was enough for dion to also nod along to your hazy words.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who pampers and cosset your child from day one. he’s always around to hold the baby when you’re tired, always admiring its cherubic countenance and incoherent murmurs. he treats your child as if it were a magical creature that’s never been discovered before, and his own curiosity about the baby is quite child-like in its purity and wonder.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who falls into the role of a father not without stumbling along the way. he’s not very expressive and has a hard time comprehending other’s needs, so dion finds it especially difficult to read your baby’s expressions and care for it correctly. he tries, he certainly does, so often that sometimes he’s just sitting around with your baby in his arms and trying to decipher its expressions and moods. he still doesn’t seem to get it right despite his many attempts.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who never lets the baby disturb your sleep. he doesn’t even do this deliberately. as a trained assassin his senses are naturally sensitive to the changes around him and a baby isn’t quite skilled enough to evade his detection. therefore, trust that you’ll have a peaceful sleep, and even if you are awaken it’ll be a gentle shake on your shoulder because dion just can’t seem to guess what the child needs, but you’ll never be awoken by a crying baby.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t allow your baby to ever be close with his other family members. sure, his entire family might be aware of the fact he has a child and a “lover” but that doesn’t mean they also have the privilege to approach your child. he gatekeeps them so fervently that if another member of the family even mentions making an attempt, there might be a battle, and dion definitely won’t be the one loosing.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who personally teaches his child how to wield a sword and other self-defense techniques as they get older. it doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or a girl, they were unfortunate enough to be born into the house of agriche and knowing how to fight is the bare minimum to survive. of course, he won’t be as harsh as his instructors were in the past, often making some adjustments to focus on your child’s strength. he won’t be gentle even if they’re only sparring, and he doesn’t give out praises easily, however he does try to give physical encouragements such as head pats and the occasional hug.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who spoils your kid without restraint when they’re growing up and start having their own needs. be it imported toys or golden staffs for playtime, he doesn’t care as long as his child is kept contented. he even brings home exotic goods from places he visits on his missions for both you and your child as a reminder he was thinking about the two of you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is uncertain if he’s loving his child correctly or if he even loves them at all. sure, there’s an attachment that’s developing that will definitely grow deeper as the years pass, and yes, they do have a certain bond no matter how their relationship might seem. however, his feelings towards your child is no where comparable to the feelings dion has towards you, that which he believes to be “love”, and therefore he can’t properly gauge his own feelings but also partly can’t seem to believe that he could truly love his child with the way he was raised. if worse comes to worse and he had to chose between the two of you, it would never be your child no matter how much time passes.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who passes on his certain idiosyncrasies onto his child. deliberately or not? we’ll never know. it’s quite easy to pick up on this when you begin to notice just how attached your child is to you and how they start getting possessive of you around the maids and easily getting enraged when a servant accidentally bumps into you. sure, your child might be the opposite of dion which allows them to express themselves easier, but they often do so wantonly and has sudden outbursts when it comes to you, almost as if they’re mirroring what dion just can’t seem to express.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who is extremely proud when your child fervently agrees with his belief of keeping you to himself since you were the only one who was kind to him and how others were undeserving of your presence. this even gets to the point where the father-child duo will gang up on you whenever your emotions get out of hand and you start desiring to runaway again. they will manipulate you into believing that everything is just fine and that you would ruin everything if you acted upon those “passing impulses”, and they will do so without an ounce of guilt because in the end they’re still agriches.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who uses your child as another shackle to keep you tied to him along with the silver band on your ring finger that weighs you down. in the end, he’s grateful that you came into his life and gave him the taste of normalcy that he was so famished of. he’s grateful for the nights he would share his bed with you and your child, of the evenings the three of you would take a walk through the garden hand-in-hand, and of the dinners where the three of you would sit together like a peaceful family while your child would rant about their lessons.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who knows he owes all the happiness in his life to you and who’ll make sure to repay you in whatever way he can, and that includes making sure he’ll stay by your side until you grow old together. even in your next life and the many lives after, dion agriche swears that he will find you, because one simply can’t exists in the dark again without getting greedy after having embraced by the light.

[strangerxperv]

Dom Eddie Munson x Shy Sunshine Reader "Sunshine"

(another au? Well of course!)

She Protect and He Fuck

Minors do not interact

NSFW

Eddie is a dominant metal head that takes pleasure in taking care of you. He truly loves caressing your face with his bloody knuckled hands. When you lay kisses on his many wounds or look at him with worried doe eyes. But none of that compares to right now.

"Oh, and by the way! If you ever speak that way about my Eddie: I'll kill you!" Your sweet laugh entangles Eddie and his eyes widen while you're darken, "Sorry. That sounded like a joke. I will actually kill you."

You're standing toe to toe with the jock without a speck of fear. The usual soft warmth you give is eclipsed with glacier rage. It makes the would-be beat up asshole nervous and he takes a step back before fleeing.

Eddie takes slow steps in your direction till he is but a breath away. His dark eyes never wavering from your deep glare that follows the jock. A rough and warm large hand encases your neck while the thumb applies pressure, just slightly.

Finally you look at him as if surprised he's there and your face begins to warm. Your heart races and blood pumps all the quicker under your skin, and he knows. Just as you know that he is affected by you and your show of protectiveness.

"You, you have been such a good girl. So good that I'm not even gonna wait till graduation to knock you up. I'm gonna do it here, Sunshine." Eddie has you backed up to the lines of lockers where one arm lays above your head. He's caged you in with one hand still around your throat, "You get to cum as much as you want tonight, as much as you can handle."

Finally his mouth is pressed to your own but even the gentle touch feels filthy. Eddie's teeth nip at your bottom lip before his long tongue flicks at the sore spot. It makes you moan ever so quietly a sound only he could hear.

"All right! That's enough! Come on! Break it up you two!" Eddie deepens the kiss in retaliation to flick at your tongue before pushing off you.

"Guess I'll have to wait till tonight to thank my little Sunshine."

[hhnguyen]

life of a traitor

I’m really sorry if this one seemed a bit messy, because I was trying to convey the feelings from multiple POV’s at the same time instead of just one. ps. i will drown in the Lo’ak x Tsireya ship. My OTP for life. 

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest daughter!Reader, Lo’ak x Tsireya, Dad!Jake Sully x Lo’ak

♢ Word count: 4k 

♢ Genre: angst, family comfort - Warnings: cursing, Jake being a bad dad for once but we still love him 

⌲ Description: “You have shamed this family.” Words hurt and they sting. Yet you make sure your dad gets to feel that very pain in the wake of Lo’ak’s return. 

M A S T E R L I S T

“The Sully boy has been found!”

“The oldest is with him! They’re both back!”

You were holding your breath, you realized, as the village got closer. The lit-up lanterns that seemed like mere specks of stars in the night from a distance not long ago now seemingly looming over you with intimidation for what was to come. Both of you were perched on the backs of the Metkayina warrior's mounts that had spotted the two swimming back into the reefs after sending the tulkun off. 

And with Atanzaw flying above your heads, shining in the dark with his bioluminescent marks, it was an easy spotting as an uproar had started. 

Your brother reached the dock first, thanking the one who helped as you followed up shortly after doing the same. 

As if as one, both yours and Lo’ak’s gaze locked onto Ao’nung standing at the very front beside his parents. He was silent, though you didn’t know if that was due to the aftermath of his scolding or guilt for nearly killing your brother.

For his sake, it better had been the latter. 

You merely stood back as Lo’ak was ready to pounce on the boy himself until your dad quickly intervened with raised hands of peace, and you could not stop the disappointed roll of your eyes. 

“Hey…” Jake was trying to make eye contact with him, but sensing how his youngest son was too busy death glaring at the Olo’eyktan’s heir it was a futile try. “Let’s have a look at you.”

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Just a few scratches,” your dad declared, obviously nervous and trying to appear calm. 

“Define fine,” you muttered, not bothering to be too discreet and catching both the eyes of Tonowari and Jake. 

Your mother was next, as she threw herself down on the lower ledge and grabbed Lo’ak by his shoulders, nails probably digging in uncomfortably for a short moment. There was clear distress for her child on her face, but also the aggravation of him getting into trouble again. A very familiar combination when it came to your baby brother, admittedly. 

You still made sure to be closer to him as you stepped up, shoulders just barely brushing your dad’s arm in passing and hovering a mere few inches behind. A silent shield to be used if needed. 

“I pray for the strength that I will not rip the eyeballs out of my youngest son!” She growled with a frustrated grab at his face - Lo’ak did nothing but lean away, face stone cold in all the chaos. 

His indifference was worrying you as you reached out to subtly hook your little pinky around his own. An action that only the two of you and Kiri could do with your extra fingers. His body didn’t reveal anything besides the slight twitch at the touch, but he didn’t pull away, and you took it as a good sign. 

For now. 

“No. My son knows better than to take him outside of the reef,” Tonowari pushed Ao’nung down to his knees by the back of his neck, a sight that gave you immense satisfaction as your lips curled up into a small smirk. “The blame is his.”

Your father was trying his best to de-escalate the situation, you knew that. And although you had a lot to say, things were going smoothly at this point, so they were held back. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Jake accepted it, urging Lo’ak to get a move on and you started to follow until the next words made you freeze in shock. 

“No. This is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea.”

What the fuck was he doing?

Stupid, stupid boy!

Your heart was starting to pump, the disbelief at that flat-out lie from Lo’ak not making it any better. And you made sure to voice it. 

“Lo’ak!” Your hiss was hardly low in volume, or gentle in its approach. It was a harsh, aggressive sound that made several people look as you grabbed your youngest brother’s arm and pulled him to you. “What do you think you’re doing?!” 

You were pretty sure your nails were digging into his skin much more painfully than your mom’s did. 

But as the idiot that he was, he wrenched away from you and continued on as if you hadn’t spoken. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it. Really.”

Lie, lie, lies!

The word thundered in your head as you pinched your eyes shut with a rigid sigh. Your parents had so clearly lost their patience as your dad went up first, your mom grabbing Lo’ak either in anger or confusion. “Lo’ak!”

You weren’t sure of anything, to be honest. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally finished. 

“Come on,” Jake’s voice was sternly laced with exhaustion as you both followed him.  “I got this one.”

How many times hadn’t you heard that sentence? 

There was a tense moment of silence as your family walked away, but Tuk was absent you noticed. Which was a good thing in itself, supposedly. She didn’t need to see this ugly side of your family so young - there were certain moments for learning, whereas others would just create minimal trauma. Just like now. 

“Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids, that was what I was trying to do-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

You cautiously straightened up at the apparent held-back anger and glanced at your mom, hoping she might help to diffuse the situation. But her glare was still firmly settled on Lo’ak, as you licked your lips anxiously. 

This situation was not reached its peak yet, the comprehension of the current mood washing over you. 

“Dad…”

“You brought shame to this family.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs and stones beings violently shoved in their stead, eyes widening at the horrible words your dad…no, Jake Sully just blatantly said to your brother. 

Because this was not the dad that you knew. 

How could he? 

Saying such words when Lo’ak was already struggling with himself. 

Couldn’t they see that? 

It was so clear, your confusion nearly befuddled you enough, but not quite.

Because your anger was there. Simmering, boiling - ready to erupt at any moment - because this wasn’t fair.

Your baby brother was being so strong. 

Oh, how his expression squeezed your heart almost painfully. The way his shoulders just only drooped before straightening back up and fists clenching as his cold mask slipped back over the hurt that had been there only for a single second. 

“Can I go now?”

Don’t go. Please, don’t go. 

“Any more trouble I’ll tie a knot in your tail, you read me?”

Stop.

“Yes sir.”

Just fucking stop.  

With a flick of his eyes, your dad dismissed Lo’ak like he was one of his soldiers, and as you tried to reach out for him, your baby brother ignored you with a visible lean away. 

An action that hurt you more than you realized until now. 

“Where were you?” Your mom spoke for the first time, turning to Neteyam. 

Someone that had nothing to do with this whole fiasco. 

“Yeah, what happened to keep an eye on your brother?” 

You spoke before he could. “Where were you?”

Both of your parents turned to look, identical frowns on their faces as they stared you down at your tone. But you would not budge at their intimidation. 

“Excuse me?”

“How could you?” 

“Y/N this is not the time for one of your tirades again.”

The disbelieving laugh that you let out was so out of character that even Kiri’s eyes widened warily. 

Your sister was someone who often silently observed those around you. And she knew that at this point there was no going back. You were clearly losing it. 

“Y/N…” Your mom noticed the same, sensing the seams of your sensibility started to fray at the edges as you and Jake were locked in a stare-down. 

You grinned widely, all teeth on show as your arms spread to the side. “You know what? Thank you for suggesting that dad! I would love to actually!”

Tirades were your favorite part time after all. 

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a finger hovering in the air as Jake hissed in a breath before muttering out harshly - his eyes flickering to the curious audience gathering at your volume. “Watch yourself, young lady.” 

“Why?” Your reply was all but spat out. “Are you embarrassed? Ashamed perhaps?”

“Y/N, you do not speak to your father like that!” Your mom’s voice snapped up, gaze hard with a hint of surprise which you assumed was due to your attitude. 

Admittedly a side that you had never shown before. Or at least managed to hold back in tense moments. 

“Why the hell not?!” your words were met by the gasps of Kiri and Neteyam at the audacity, but they were easily ignored as you whirled to look at your father. 

He had his lips peeled back in a mid-snarl, his animalistic side coming out to warn you of the hierarchy in this family.

“You always speak to us like that! Whenever your emotions are too much to handle and you lash out at us. You say it’s our fault all disguised under your excuse of being a worried parent!”

“Lo’ak is fourteen, dad!” Making sure you had his attention you stepped closer. “Four-teen. He’s fourteen and already thinks he’s a fucking failure - and do you wanna know why that is?” there was no pause in your words as you threw them at his face. “Because of you.”

“You do not get to talk to me this way, Y/N,” Jake was clenching his jaw to the point he was sure his teeth would shatter. “I am your father-”

“-what father tells their child they’re ashamed of them?” You offered him a bitter smile. “The one I know sure as hell doesn’t.”

“Your brother made his choice. These are the consequences that follow-” your dad was having a hard time holding back with the way his voice raised mid-sentence before forcefully stopping himself and releasing a breath. “-that follow along with his actions. I am trying to teach him a lesson.”

“Did you ask him?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Ask. Him?”

Jake sighed in frustration, his hands coming up to grasp at empty air. “What are you talking about?” 

“Did you even bother to ask your son whose fault this really was?” you weren’t interested in hearing his answer. “Do you even know your son? Because I do, and do you wanna know why again? Because I damn well pay attention!”

The laugh coming out of your dad made chills appear on your skin, but you were already far too deep in to turn back. Things were already fucked up, then why not cross the line a little more. 

“Okay then, you little smartass. Are you telling me I don’t care about my own kid?”

He thought he had you there.

 “Caring and knowing are two very different things.” This time you were the one who had him. Shutting down his own retort. 

“You say you love us. You say you care for us. But also that we worry you, and that we disappoint you. Fine - that’s fine dad. But you don’t get to say that we have shamed you.”

For once during this entire duration, you hesitated. 

Your next words were waiting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and loaded - something you didn’t want to say, but a part of you needed to let them out. To let your dad, or even Jake Sully, the former marine soldier hear them to his face from someone close to him.

To feel the same stabbing pain that Lo’ak most certainly did earlier. 

Your aggressive protectiveness came victorious. 

So you let them loose. 

“You don’t get to say that; because we’re not the ones who betrayed an entire race to be where we are.”

Jake stumbled back in shock as if those very words had shot him right in the chest and he couldn’t stop them. Stop the truth that they were covered in. 

It was like a pin dropped in the heavy silence that followed between the loose circle your family stood in. Your mother for the first time in her life since giving birth to you hissed in protectiveness over her mate - at her own daughter - your brother sprung to your side and twisted you away with a snarl of your name, in warning, not scolding. Whereas Kiri remained still, eerie gaze never leaving you.

However, you weren’t done. 

“Hurts doesn’t it?” your voice croaked as Jake’s eyes slowly raised to meet yours. “Words.”

You left without saying anything else.

+

Warm. Gentle. Comforting and so loving.

Tsireya’s hold on his hands was always a welcoming feeling. 

Her touch seemed to ground him more than he sometimes realized. A feeling that was unfamiliar to him mostly, and one that always reminded him of you. 

But right now, with the two of them sitting on a boulder on the edge of a patchy space of grass and gazing out into the star covered night together, it was a touch that calmed the stabbing hurt from earlier and made the night all more bearable. 

Lo’ak had no idea how many hours that passed since the chaos that had ensued after returning with you. His hearing basically stopped working after his dad’s true feelings had slapped him in the face with their words - that stung more than an actual slap would have. 

He would have rather taken that slap. 

“Are you okay?” Tsireya’s voice was soft and light, so sweet in its tone that he couldn’t even stop the small smile on his face after the tumultuous day. 

“I will be,” he admitted honestly. He would always be somewhat okay after a few days, that was the truth. 

The real question was if he would ever heal from it. That one he wasn’t so sure about. 

Lo’ak might not have been mistreated or even abused by his family. A minimum that was expected for a happy life. Because in a certain perspective, he was fortunate in the life that he did have. 

Two caring, protective parents. 

Four loving siblings. 

A grandmother for Tsahik. 

And a home. Kind off. 

Then why didn’t he feel fortunate?

“You can always rely on me, you know that right?” 

Eywa. How beautiful her large eyes looked staring up at him from her place, where her head was previously leaned on his shoulder. 

They were sparkling, he swore. The aquamarine color of them stood out even more in the darkness surrounding them. The bioluminescent lights of nature surrounding them made her all the more ethereal in his gaze.

So large and so loving and caring in the way they always looked at him. 

And not for the first time, Lo’ak found his own gaze wavering - flickering down lower on her face and to her lips, which were adorably pulled down in a slightly concerned pout for him. 

They might be young, just fourteen-year-old kids still growing. But he wasn’t stupid or ignorant at his age. He was well versed in romantic feelings and commitment to your partners, and how to cherish each other if the right one ever did appear. 

And his dad made good on his promise to teach them all about teenage hormones and urges, and how to control them in a respectful manner. To know when it was too early to start exploring what he wanted or not. 

Lo’ak wanted to kiss her. He knew that. It wasn’t a secret. 

But it was too early. And in the aftermath of his falling out with his parents, it seemed too…raw. 

He didn’t want to use someone he was growing to care more for each day as a way of making himself feel better. 

And Tsireya deserved better, being the kindhearted person she was. And he wasn’t quite there to give it to her yet. 

But one day, he hoped he would be. 

“Thank you,” was all he managed to say in reply offering a small tug of his lips as she stared at him for a moment longer before turning away, the clear tell of redness on the tip of her ears as she realized their proximity for the first time. 

He didn’t see a reason to tease her about it, not wanting to break the serenity that they were currently in. It was somewhat possible to block everything that happened. 

He did say somewhat. 

The rustling of bushes becoming louder made both of them straighten up and turn back, only to see Jake coming closer in a slow yet determined stride. 

Lo’ak felt his heart starting to beat faster, a sudden change from the steady calm it had managed to find in the last couple of hours. 

The reality was catching up to him again at the appearance of his father. 

Tsireya turned to look at him with her concerned wide eyes again, he didn’t manage to answer her before his dad had reached them - but Lo’ak didn’t expect to notice the nervous fiddle of his hands as Jake stopped only a few feet away. 

“Hey kids-” his pause was out of character. “Do you mind if I speak to my son a bit, Tsireya?”

As if Lo’ak couldn’t fall for the girl more than he already did. Because instead of letting the presence of his father and Toruk Makto completely intimidate her, she turned to him first; Silently asking if he wanted her to leave. 

Jake seemed to be surprised himself, although pleasantly so. He has been so used to everyone outside of his family doing most things at his beck and call, both as a clan leader and war hero. He had clearly underestimated the relationship between the two young teens in front of him. 

Tsireya stood to leave quickly at the assuring nod of Lo’ak, before parting with a polite smile in Jake’s direction and going back to the village with one last look over her shoulder. 

There was a moment of complete stillness before Jake came and sat down on the space previously occupied next to Lo’ak. The boy didn’t even bother to acknowledge his father, simply staring out at the lapping water, shoulders hunched over. 

His two braids on the side of his face felt like the only shield to cover him as he let them hang, avoiding eye contact firmly. 

Jake let out a heavy sigh, having already expected the cold behavior of his youngest son. 

He didn’t blame him either. 

He had acted like a grade-A asshole, with the biggest A to exist in the universe. And towards his own child too. 

Jake Sully has never claimed parenthood to be easy in any way. It was a hard, taxing journey that he obviously was still trying to learn from. It was a road that never stopped no matter how old his kids got. He would always be a father, but he’s admittedly been a shit one as of late. 

And that wasn’t only according to you. 

Your words had hurt. Like a damn punch to his face. Or ten. 

That was true - Neytiri knew it too. And that made him think and regret. If those words stung him as they did, how much had he hurt his own kid by saying something he didn’t even mean?

Not really at least. 

Jake had been angry at the moment. Pissed off, to be honest. But it was also the overwhelming worry of his kid’s disappearance that made him act out. But it was no excuse for anything he had said.

You were still avoiding him. Well, ignoring is more like it. Which was even worse. Besides your siblings, you were actively shutting out the presence of both him and Neytiri despite their tries in the last few hours to speak. 

Kiri was the one to voice out your thoughts. “She won’t speak unless Lo’ak forgives you first.”

Was it strange that Jake was still proud of you? You owned the same pride he did as a young marine and his first moments on Pandora. 

An unyielding pride that often got him in trouble. 

But for you, it was a pride that protected your siblings even against your own parents. 

“You know, sometimes I think you deserve a better dad.”

Lo’ak didn’t reply, but the shift in his body assured Jake that he was paying attention. 

“I never wanted kids. Never even thought of having them until I met your mother. The world was already shitty enough as it was, so I didn’t see a point in bringing new life into it. And after my injury, that thought cemented.”

“Well, I’m sorry for ending up being your kid,” his low mutter was an inner thought not ever planning to see the light of day. Especially in front of the man himself. But he couldn’t stop himself. 

Jake let out a shuddering breath, finally realizing how deep this…trauma his youngest son was experiencing. And you had been right again; it was all his fault. 

“No, no Lo’ak,” moving closer, his son didn’t resist as he gently grabbed the back of his nape to push their foreheads together. 

Despite his bitter words, his body still relaxed at the comforting feeling. Because it was obvious - even after everything, he still loved his dad. Still craved the comforts of his protective touches, and his overpowering hugs that were rare but much needed whenever offered. 

“I’m sorry, son,” Jake whispered, eyes clenched shut and voice wavering with tears. “I have not been the father you needed since the war started, I know that now. I will try to improve, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck up further in the coming days, but I will never not love you.”

“Dad…”

Lo’ak wanted to cry. 

And in the protective embrace of his dad, he did. He let those long held tears flow loose, dripping down his cheeks and starting to obscure his vision as his breath started to heave at the force of it all. 

“What I said wasn’t true. I am proud of the man you’re starting to grow into, and you have never shamed this family. I am the one who should be ashamed, never you.” 

“I-I am sorry-”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jake demanded pulling his son closer. “Your sister was right. My burdens should not fall on your shoulders. You’re still young and deserve to be a child, not a soldier. So I am sorry.”

Pressing his lips against the crown on his youngest boy’s head, Jake only held him as his silent tears turned into soft sobs. All the pain and hurt that he had bottled up because of him, finally being lifted off his young shoulders that should have never been born them to begin with. 

“Will you ever forgive your old man of his faults?” His dad asked after several minutes he finished crying, his deep voice hoarse with nerves. 

Lo’ak had no idea how long his meltdown lasted, only letting out everything in the presence of his dad without restraint until he had no more tears left. It could have been five minutes or ten. Who knew at this point? 

“You’re my dad…” he had whispered in return. “I will always forgive you.”

There was a thankful smile on Jake’s face, wrinkles crinkling in the corners of his wet eyes. “Then you’re a far better person than I have ever been. Thank you.”

He swallowed, and for the first time in a while, his next words had never been more genuine than at this moment. 

“I love you, dad.”

There was a firm, warm squeeze around his body at hearing that. 

“God, I love you too, kiddo. So much you don’t even know.”

Maybe he’d been mistaken after all. 

Lo’ak doubted this would be the end of their turmoils because life came with them. It was just how it was; parents get angry at their kids, siblings get angry at each other and vice versa. 

It was expected, but at least from now on he would be assured of his parents’ love for him, and their presence would be constant and there whenever he would need them despite their own faults as people.

Updates will unfortunately be a bit slow moving forward. My 3rd semester has started and I’ve started to prepare for my MA thesis + 4 classes, so my days are packed 🥲

taglist:

@nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs @melllinaa  @sugarmummystuff6 @lovekeeho @marit332 @hai-kbai @missroro @lola2004sworld @kage-yaa​

[leychin]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Could be seen as a continuation to All of It, but the idea came from @tenkomura, bc when am i ever not thinking about something she said

Maybe you hate your younger self for being so naive.

Perhaps its because you cling to the memories of before, when everything was so much simpler and All For One was commanding Shigaraki to act. When he messed up, or when you messed up, All For One simply caressed your heads in such a comforting way that the loss felt like nothing.

Oh, how you loved him. Everything was so much easier when it was him. Yes he was the future, yes you were the symbols of fear, but to you he was just Tomura. Its the silent understanding that you both had, that even though the entire world was against you and the cause it was okay because you were together.

He loved you, it didn't need to be said. Even when the league expanded, it was still just you and him. Not to say he doesnt care for the league, because that would be a lie. But the love he has for them pales in comparison to the love he holds for you in the crevices of his heart. Its heard in the blood pumping in his veins and its sung in the whispers of his calm breathing when he's with you.

But you're villains. Villains don't get an ounce of peace. So when the league has ended Overhaul's short lived reign, and everyone's stopped and caught their breath. You sit with him in silence on the side of a bare highway that you'd been walking.

Maybe its foolish, but you follow him like a dog. You watch as Shigaraki opens the case of quirk erasing bullets. He stares. Almost like he wants to test if it works.

You sit next to him, sat shoulder to shoulder now. He simply says "If I erased my quirk, we could be normal." And you don't need to be a genius to know what he means, he means if he didn't have decay he would have a home. If he didn't have decay he wouldn't be All for One's subject of interest, id he didn't have this damn quirk he could be normal with you.

Would there even be a you though?

"Hm, maybe." you supply "You wouldn't have met me though, and I would trade any chances of being normal if it meant i got to be with you." you say, and Shigaraki stills.

"I... I think I would too." he smiles, its a crackly smile that makes blood speck on his lips that you just want to kiss already.

"When this is all over, lets go on a date. Okay?" you ask, your eyes now gazing up at him with hope.

Shigaraki's eyes widen, and looks to the quirk erasing bullets and quickly shuts them. "You promise?" he asks almost eagerly, and you hold up your pinky "pinky swear!"

Oh you fools.

Which is what's left you to stare at Shigaraki's tube. His body floating in the liquid endlessly for whats felt like years, but you know its only been a month or two. You feel so naive for ever thinking it would just be over, because of course its never over.

He would be the new holder of all for one. Because fate stops for nothing and no one, not even love. You hate yourself for being naive enough to hope that you would ever get to love him peacefully. You hate him for not realizing when you did that All for One was using you both. You hate All for One for taking your lives away from you.

This would never be over, Shigaraki will never give pinky promise kisses again, and he'll never build redstone farms for you when you get too frustrated and rage quit. He's never going to reach out for you again, and you're going to spend the rest of your life reaching for someone who's never going to reach back.

You press your head to the glass and cry. The doctor is used to your sobs though ans has grown to ignoring them, which you suppose is a win. But it still doesn't soothe the ache in your chest as you wish for everything to be different, and you pray every night that this is a bad dream. You pray that this is a nightmare and that night Shigaraki did use that quirk erasing bullet. You pray for this to be a bad dream of his and he never developed decay.

Because you would never trade your life with Shigaraki for normalcy, but you love him too much to watch him do this. You wished he would trade you for normalcy because loving him through this and always is simply too much.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Decked in Red

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, what some might consider gore, injuries, pain, captivity, torture, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You make a foolish mistake and pay the price.

Character: Nick Fowler

Day Ten of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - apple cider and a nice book 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The open door feels like a trap. 

You know that it and yet you cannot resist. So long shut in. So long behind these walls, so long staring at closed doors and iron bars, trapped in the desolation of small spaces. 

It is a trap, you know it, but what is left of the person you were will not let you just walk away. It is that sliver of yourself that makes you pull the door wide and step out into the whining winds. The same winds that haunt your nights, that remind you that the world is more than that place. 

You limp, your left leg unbending in its splint, your foot never fully heeling like it should. That wasn't a concern so long as you can move. Sometimes, it's best you stay still. 

You stare out at the glistening white clearing. In the life before, you would think it beautiful, peaceful even. Now it it terrifying. That expanse of ivory blanketing the ground, a steady dusting from above adding to the layers. 

One step, you stop. It's freezing. If you weren't so used to discomfort, it might bother you. Another step and you are unbalanced. You look down at your leg and your crooked foot. Your own body is a prison. 

The third brings you to the ground and you sink to your calves in snow. The weight around your feet makes you falter. You push through on some innate and unbreakable hope. You didn't think that was left in you. 

You lift your feet high. The snow soaks through the hem your skirt and the wilting stockings clinging above your knees. You raise your arms to keep your balance as you make a clumsy progress across the plain. 

You pass between sparse trees as your toes numb. It's almost a relief not to feel. The texture of the vast white changes and you stop before the uneven shore of the frozen lake. 

You stare out at the glistening ice, the snow gathering around the edges and creeping across. You slip as you break the threshold. You scramble to stay on your feet and twist in a panic. As you do, you spot the dark speck coming across the carpet of snow. No... 

It's him. He doesn't need to hurry. You both know you won't get far but that doesn't stop you. You spin and carry on. If anything, it's nice just to be outside even if you know how it ends. 

Your foot thumps as the splint keeps your leg straight and heavy. You are breathless already. You don’t move half as much as this in a single day. Not under his watch. 

You hear him coming. He walks calmly across the icy as you pump your arms and drag your foot in a half-hop. You glance around as his footsteps get closer and closer. He sweeps your feet in a single motion. You’re on your back, dazed and dizzy. 

He lifts you with a tut but does not voice his remonstrance. He doesn’t need to. You know what you’ve done and it doesn’t matter that he set the bait. The door wasn’t just open. He left it open. 

He hauls you with his arms around your middle. Your feet bounce over the ground as the trees creak around you. The wind tunnels around you as he comes out into the open, only to be blocked out by the lone structure amid the tundra. He hauls you up each step without a care for your injured leg. 

He drops you on the floor inside. You pant and don’t move. He steps over you and removes his boots. He clucks and hangs his jacket, tucking his gloves in the pockets. 

Nick bends to remove your soaked stockings. The bandages loosen and the splint shifts, your cracked bone splintering once more. You whine through your teeth as he stays on one knee and rebinds your femur. 

He strips you off your snow-dampened dress and leaves you to languish. You track him with your ears, your eyes closing to the ceiling. It’s his stoicism that scares you most. The calm before the storm. 

He returns and snaps his fingers. “Up.” 

You open your eyes and put your hands on the floor. You push yourself up, first sitting, then you set your good foot and throw your arms out to swing yourself onto one leg. You teeter and limp towards him. 

He leads you into the front room. The fireplace burns with a crackle. The smell of spiced apple wafts around you as you come in sight of the low table on the other side of the sofa. There’s a blanket folded on one cushion beneath a single book. On the table, a mule mug steams, a cinnamon stick poking above the brim. 

“After all I’ve done to make you happy,” he growls and point at the couch. 

You don’t believe his kindness. The blanket, the book, the cider, it’s not without a debt. And since you strayed, it will be steeper now. 

You go to the couch and he follows. You sit and he moves the book onto your lap. He unfolds the blanket and sweeps it around your shoulders. The fuzzy lining is a relief after your delve into the frigid outdoors. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say. 

It isn’t enough to appease him. You see the glint in his eyes that assures you of that. You look down at the book and feel the embossed cover. It’s a special edition of a novel you had once. Before him. 

“Have some cider before it gets cold.” 

You acquiesce but not without noting his tone. It says more than his words. If the cider is cold, it’s because you misbehaved. 

He strides off again. You’re unsettled by his reticence. His unhappiness is not restrained for long. You shift and reach for the cup. You taste the spiced cider and nearly choke. It’s warm and rustic but a bit too much for you.  

You set the mug back on the table, crafted from pine crates, and flip open the cover of the book. Nick comes back. He has something behind his back but he will not let you see. You don’t show your curiosity. 

“Read.” He demands. 

You put your chin down and focus on the words. You don’t digest them as your mind races. What does he have? You peek at the fireplace and the poker beside it. You’re relieved that he doesn’t go for it. The last time left a searing mark on your thigh. A rigid and roiling N. 

He sits beside you. You glance over and he shakes his head. “Out loud.” 

You swallow and look down again. Your vision pinpoints on the words. You take in each letter as you painstakingly enunciate the syllables, sounding it out but not truly understanding what you’re saying. You’re much too distracted by the movement you can’t see. 

He takes your hand and you flinch, but don’t look. He coughs as if to warn you, don’t. You move your other to the center crease and spread your fingers to keep the pages open. 

He pets your hand and plays with it. His touch is almost soothing even if it makes you tense. For a moment, you think it might be one of his games. You can appease him if it is. If he puts it lower... 

There’s a strange noise, a clack or a click, you’re not sure. You turn the page as your dry voice continues through the story. He pushes your hand between to flat pieces of wood? Metal? Yes, it’s cold, it must be metal-- 

There’s a squeak then a snap and your piercing shriek. Tendons, bones, and veins are crushed together by the panels as he twists screw at the one end. Your hand is flattened by the device as the book slips out of your other. 

You whine and wail as he leaves the metal plates tight and lets you go. Your head wobbles and your body rings with agony. 

“Please, sir--” 

“Hush,” he reaches for the cup and brings it toward you, “finish your cider first.” 

“Ow, ow, please, I can’t--” 

“You will,” he grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches you back. He holds your head up and puts the brim to your lips. “Be a good girl and take what I give you.” 

Your eyes stream with tears and your head throbs. You drink deeply, desperate for relief. Your leg, your hand, the burn marks on your thighs. He tearing you apart bit by bit. It won’t be long before he has all of you. 

[swimmingpoolpumpsuk]

Lovibond Test Kits & Reagents: Ensuring Accurate Water Analysis

In the realm of water analysis, precision and reliability are paramount to understanding water quality and ensuring the safety of both human and environmental health. Lovibond Test Kits & Reagents have emerged as trusted tools for professionals in various industries, providing a comprehensive range of testing solutions to assess water parameters accurately. From municipal water treatment plants to industrial facilities and even private pool owners, Lovibond test kits and reagents offer a convenient and efficient means of analyzing water quality. In this article, we will delve into the world of Lovibond Test Kits & Reagents and explore their significance in maintaining water safety and quality.

Understanding Lovibond Test Kits

Lovibond test kits are specifically designed to assess various water parameters by utilizing a colorimetric measurement method. These kits provide a visual means of quantifying substances in water, such as pH, chlorine, alkalinity, hardness, and many other parameters. Each test kit comes with a set of reagents, which are chemical substances that react with water samples to produce color changes. These color changes are then matched to a standardized color chart provided with the test kit, allowing users to determine the concentration or level of the parameter being tested.

Features and Benefits

2.1. Accuracy and Reliability: Lovibond test kits are renowned for their accuracy and reliability, offering consistent and repeatable results. The standardized color chart ensures that users can easily interpret the color changes and obtain accurate measurements.

2.2. Wide Range of Parameters: Lovibond test kits cover an extensive range of parameters, including pH, chlorine, alkalinity, hardness, iron, phosphate, and many more. This versatility makes them suitable for diverse applications, including drinking water analysis, swimming pool maintenance, wastewater treatment, and industrial process control.

2.3. User-Friendly: Lovibond test kits are designed with user convenience in mind. The clear instructions provided with each kit guide users through the testing process, making it accessible to professionals and non-experts alike. The compact and portable design of the kits enables on-site analysis, saving time and resources.

2.4. Cost-Effective: By utilizing Lovibond test kits, users can minimize the costs associated with laboratory testing. On-site analysis eliminates the need for sample transportation and reduces turnaround times, allowing for immediate action if any water quality issues are detected.

Lovibond Reagents: Enhancing Testing Capabilities

The effectiveness of Lovibond test kits can be attributed to the high-quality reagents they employ. Lovibond offers a comprehensive range of reagents formulated to react specifically with various water parameters, ensuring accurate and precise measurements. The reagents are designed to provide reliable results even in challenging water conditions, such as high chlorine or turbidity levels.

Lovibond reagents are produced with stringent quality control measures, adhering to international standards. This commitment to quality guarantees the consistency and reliability of the results obtained. The reagents are conveniently packaged, with clear instructions and safety guidelines, making them easy to handle and store.

Applications of Lovibond Test Kits & Reagents

4.1. Water Treatment Plants: Lovibond test kits play a vital role in the operation and monitoring of water treatment plants. They enable operators to assess parameters such as pH, chlorine, turbidity, and alkalinity to ensure compliance with regulatory standards and maintain optimal water quality for distribution.

4.2. Swimming Pools and Spas: Pool owners and operators rely on Lovibond test kits to maintain the chemical balance of the water. Testing parameters such as pH, chlorine, and alkalinity helps prevent waterborne diseases, optimize water clarity, and extend the lifespan of pool equipment.

[s1llyalabaster]

Haii! Can i request ratio x gn!Reader who is always clingy and clings to ratio everywhere they gotta whether it's holding his arms, or his fingers, or anything, even when they sleep reader always clings to him, ratio can't event get out of the bed ini the morning cuz how tight their grip is. Idk man just a though at 2am lol

WAAAAGH this is such a cute idea!!! I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to pump this out faster and earlier but here it is anon!! (Gonna be doing bullet point for this because I can't really think of how to put multiple scenarios into one whole fic)

Like Dust on an Alabaster Head - Veritas Ratio

Just like what the title says, where reader clings to Ratio like a speck of dust on his alabaster head. ~300 words , SFW

◘ I can imagine you, Ratio, and other researchers sat at a meeting where you're supposed to concentrate and take notes etc, but *THE* Doctor just somehow ends up clenching his jaw in slight embarrassment when you two link fingers or even nudge your foot at his.

◘ ANON YOUR IDEA OF THE BED SCENE IS SO CUTE AS WELL LIKE?!?!?! Imagine Ratio, having a seminar to attend in the morning, using every atom in his body to slowly slip out of your (quite strong) grip. But he ultimately fails as your body somehow works like a bear trap, detecting the movement of that of Vertias'.

◘ Another scenario would be when you two have an off-day, you'd just be always attaching your fingers to his body when you two go on a walk, or spend some time in the library. Despite his half-assed remarks to keep your hands off him, from his body language itself, it seems that he doesn't think it's as unbearable as he says it is.

◘ Your clinginess even shows in text! Dr. Ratio doesn't really text much, even with his accquaintannces, let alone his coworkers. So when he leaves his phone on his work desk without care, his coworkers are shocked to see him reply to your flirty messages or sticker spamming on the dot, not even seconds sparing. You know how phones can have custom "do not disturb" modes? He probably has notifications on only for you 24/7 and ignores everyone else's.

◘ Currently obsessed over domestic malewife! Ratio SO what if you wrap your arms around Ratio when he's cooking or doing chores, and he's trying to pry them off to avoid any danger hazards but you're just clinging on like an octopus or a koala..... GOT ME SO SOFT

◘ Your clinginess would definitely grow TENFOLD when you're tired and you'd be asking him to piggyback carry you around the house until you're satisfied (your last ounce of awakeness decides against doing so in public).

◘ I have a feeling Dr. Ratio would be the "appears touch repulsed but is actually touched starved" type, so sometimes he does really appreciate your clinginess and you taking the initiative to touch him, hug him, kiss him and whatnot. It'll take some time for him to work up the courage, or in his words "stoop so low as to ask for touch like an idiot", to ask for kisses etc.

[unholyhelbig]

I just want to say I'm already hooked on the beast you made me. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 5151

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, animal bones, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Thank you all for the overwelming support on the first chapter! I truly didn't expect that much reception. I'm going to be traveling for the next week so the next chapter might be delayed a bit]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

1917, Rural Pennsylvania

A sweeping river cut through the patch of sweetgrass on the south side of the farm. It emitted a gurgling sound that often soothed your nerves. There was a rocky clearing sandwiched between the tree line and the plain of grass that had become a perfect spot for you to settle in and read the hard-covered books you’d gotten from the corner store.

Your father would bring back any book you requested from the city during his travels. You devoured them faster than he could provide them and had read ‘Eight Cousins’ ,Lousia May Alcott’s foray into the adventures thirteen-year-old Rose, enough to nearly tear the pages from the binding.

The book itself held the clean honeyed scent of the earth, of the secluded spot that you called your own. Your muscles would thrum from loading the bales of hay into your fathers ford. Your fingers were calloused, and dirt caked around your ankle in a dark ring. All of that vanished when you cracked open the book about a girl that was so much like yourself.

It was easy to lose yourself in the paragraphs, the hum of the river sometimes lulling you to sleep. Your mother would pack you a sandwich on warm, hand-kneaded bread, usually some salted meat and mayonnaise. She’d pack sweet tea and send you on your way, knowing that you wouldn’t return to the house until you saw a flicker of a firefly.

Today, you’d fallen asleep under the sun. The book was discarded, and your forearm draped across your eyes. It was easy to drift, and easier still to dream about leaving the small dairy farm for something bigger- the very city that your father would return from with new literature and arts, and spices that made your mouth buzz with flavor.

You were in a haze when the ear-piercing scream cut through the air as if it were a natural solid. Your ears pinched at the sound, heels digging into the coarse sandy shore. Maybe it was a dream. It could have been an animal that had sunk its pointed teeth into the artery of another.

So, you waited, panting with your heart in your chest and the corner of the book barely lapped by the muddied water. And there was this sound. It was no fox caught in a trap or bovine tangled up in the barbed wire fence around the property- no, this was familiar. This was your sister.

Helena was quiet, often described as demure and borderline submissive. Despite being younger than yourself she carried a certain poise about her. Mother would often boast about how she would have no trouble finding a husband, how the boys already fawned over the child of hers that was not feral and unkempt.

Her cry was the loudest you had ever heard her and it had you on your feet, scrambling up the bank. Once past your small world of wonder, you were greeted with an endless sea of sweetgrass that was waist high in some areas.

A warm breeze created waves against the landscape, the farmhouse a small speck among the expanse of land. Your head was spinning, it was hard to track exactly where it had come from. It took another cracking screech to set you North.

Your legs pumped until you were consumed in a blind speed. You’d been renowned for your quickness, for your dedication to get from point A to point B. The kids in your town often joked that you were steadier than a steed. Not only were you the fastest in the class, but the fastest in the county according to some. Still- only a child of fifteen, and no man would want to wed someone with speed. It wasn’t a practical skill.

There was a pit deep in your stomach whirled, instinct knowing precisely where Helena was yowling from.

Jorge had gotten there at the same time you did; his brow was leaking with sweat and he panted against the hot air that surrounded you both. Your older brother was tall and lanky, serpent-like with beady black eyes and pitch hair to match your father’s. His shirt hung low against his midsection, his skin pale despite his hours in the sun working the fields.

“Stay back, y/n.” He demanded sharply.

The old well was a mere foot in front of you both but neither made the effort to move forward. The aged wooden plank that covered the stone shaft had been splintered through the middle, worn from age and weather.

Helena’s soft cries echoed up. When your father had first acquired the property, the previous owners explained that it had been boarded up after of the bulls had fallen down and snapped it’s neck. It was too large to pull out and they left it to starve and then rot.

Your father never let any of his children peer down into the well. You wondered if something had pulled Helena here, or if she had simply forgotten of it’s existence. Jorge dropped down to his knees and did a cautious crawl as if his own two feet couldn’t’ hold him anymore.

You saw the exact moment his skin became waxier, almost a gray porcelain paleness that had a green tint. He was swallowing too much, his white shirt coated in the red clay dirt.

“What?” You asked, voice breaking “What is it?”

“Go get Mama.”

It would have been easy to listen to your brother. He was the man of the house when your father wasn’t there but with him pleading for your mother, for an adult, you got a rancid taste in your mouth.

Against your better judgement you edged close enough to the abandoned well. The sun was setting in a fire-filled orange haze with enough color and angle to get a good view of the bottom; a slosh of fallen grass and rainwater, and muck, and yes; the bones of a beast once left to decay and rot in its own silence.

Your sister was wedged within the ribcage of the befallen bull, almost as if she replaced the beating heart that stopped pulsing long ago. Her hands gripped at the sun-bleached bone, knuckles nearly the same color.

It took you a moment to make out the slick, and the red that stemmed from the center of her stomach. The head of the bull had shattered under her weight, all expect the stretching length of it’s curved horn. That was wedged through her abdomen, surrounded in a vibrant rose red that puddled and had already coated her hands.

Prints from her struggle were against the limestone edges of the well. Her eyes pleaded up at you; your kind and caring, and animal-loving sister was trapped inside the remains of one. You fought back the urge to vomit, the rash thought that if the bone ripping through her flesh didn’t kill her, then infection would.

“Y/n get mama!” Jorge hissed again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. You nearly tripped over your own boots with the fever it took to back away from the scene, the metallic scent of blood mixing deliciously with the turn of rotted soil.

You had never run so fast in your life.

Wanda Maximoff had never felt the cold that wormed its way to her bones before. It was the type of cold that almost wasn’t, a stinging, horrible feeling that had her startled from the folded metal chair. It collapsed within itself as the blinked the wine-dark color from her eyes.

She stumbled backward, only to be brought back to the starkness of the room by a soft grip on her elbow. Wanda allowed herself to be held, if not for stability but for comfort. Steve Rodgers had a welcoming hand on the small of her back, the other steadying her.

He was a solid force, and her reaction stirred him.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from her lips, “Jesus Christ.”

There was quietness to the room in the aftershock of the fallen chair. It was nicer than a standard holding cell. The walls were cream colored, triple enforced to keep people like you inside. There was a bed bolted to the wall, a bunk that was almost like a summer camp endeavor.

A charged glass wall was blocking you from the rest of the world. It was seemingly unbreakable, and in this moment, so were you. Wanda didn’t want to test the glass, nor did she know how to make sense of the memories- your memories- that had flooded every inch of her body.

You were asleep, chest rising and falling at a normal pace, as if none of what Wanda had just seen was flitting around your mind. Soft snores pushed past your lips, one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the other followed the flow of your breathing as it rested on your chest.

Wanda didn’t understand the secrecy and the precaution that surrounded you. The Avengers compound was a constant ebb and flow of different heroes, Inhumans and mutants. What made you so different? What made you an 0-8-4?

It was a term that Natasha had used only once that was usually attached to objects, not a person. It was an object of unknown origin and in that case, it was a power-filled object from space. Space. She’d been through different dimensions, but that, for some reason, struck her as terrifying.

0-8-4’s were never brought here, but then again, they’d never been alive either. Steve had told her that your energy signal was off the charts, and that they wanted her to dig around your head. Something that she denied doing at first. It was an invasion of privacy.

But, there was a certain pleading within Captain America’s eyes that scared Wanda more than the personal rules she set for herself when it came to her power. What she had seen, what she had felt was barely scraping the surface of what your mind contained. She wasn’t keen on pushing past that barrier for the conclusion of that story. Was it even yours?

“What? Wanda, what is it?”

“I… I don’t” She shook her head, eyes hardening as she stared into Steve’s “Where did you find her?”

He hesitated to answer, his eyebrows furrowing before he looked away from the witches’ prying eyes. She’d been part of this team for years now and they were still reluctant with what they were willing to share. Wanda clenched her jaw, then unclenched it before her stare flashed back to your resting form.

There was a small frown that creased your features. You looked so… harmless. You had shifted, folded into yourself as if you were scratching the surface of what flashed before her. Your arm was folded under your head, knees flush to your chest. A small, beautiful whimper escaped you.

“She’s in distress, Steve.”

“Discomfort, more like. It’s better for all of us that she stays in there for right now. The last thing we want to do is harm anyone but if that requires some temporary-“

“Imprisonment?”

“Containment.” He said firmly, eyes hard. Wanda crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent, letting him continue. She was sure she wouldn’t have been asked if not for her ability to worm her way into minds, to rearrange things. “What did you see?”

“A memory, one that can’t possibly be hers. The timeline doesn’t fit, this is a woman in her mid-twenties and who I saw was barely a teenager on a farmstead. To experience that much tragedy, that much fear and heartache.”

She started to pace, trying to not only work through her own thoughts, but yours as well. It could have been a story, and she was convinced of the fact save for the vividness. There was the feeling of grass tickling her arms and the sharp, undeniable stench of blood.

“Her younger sister died, fell through some rotted wood and fell to her death.” Wanda’s fingers pressed against the edge of her hairline. “She could have lived, but I have my doubts.”

He lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. His expression betrayed his compassion towards you, his stance uncomfortable with the topic. While the revelation was heartbreaking it hardly made you extraordinary. They’d all lost people, none had stirred Wanda as you did.

Wanda’s stare found his after darting to you once more, “Steve, I have the sinking feeling that what I saw was only scratching the surface. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of memories that were pressing in on all sides.”

The sensation of being observed is what pulled you from your fitful sleep. Exhaustion had washed over you like a tidal wave, all at once and leaving your mouth dry like a spoonful of salt. There was a stiffness that rivaled that of the grave you’d crawled out of, and you hoped that it was all a dream.

You were in your bed, in your apartment, after having one too many drinks. It was a horrible stretching nightmare that had plunged you into one sea of darkness from another. But even you weren’t that naïve.

Just as you felt a stranger’s eyes on you now, you had felt the dirt under your nails, the cold sodium-filled takeout as you attempted to chew it. More than anything, you remembered the burning feeling of the Black Widow pressed fully against your back, bending you over Jenn’s kitchen counter.  

“I would prefer if you kept the feeling of my wife’s body against yours out of your mind.”

You shot up with a dizzying amount of quickness, heart suddenly in your chest. There was an imbalance to the bed that you were laying on. It was smaller than your own and unfamiliar. The room was stark white. It hurt your eyes and you had to blink the color away. You pressed the heels of your palms close to your eyes.

It felt as if you were locked in a glass shower with an audience and stage lights. The more you looked, the more you realized it was a room, something with no personal effects but a bed and a dimmer switch that you itched to utilize.

A pitcher of water was on an end table. It wasn’t color exactly, but it was more than the rest of your surroundings. Possibly with the worst manners you’d ever exhibited, you drank straight from the pitcher, not remembering the last time you had a drink. Suddenly, you were parched enough to soak your collar.

Despite your audience, you continued until you felt your stomach protest. You used the back of your hand to wipe away the moisture, black dirt was smeared across your skin. It was then, and only then, that you forced yourself to look past the walls of your prison, your enclosure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” The woman said, walking close to the glass. You could see her clearly now, there was an heir of recognition about her, in the same way that there had been with the Black Widow.

“You were in my head.”

“For a while. It’s my job. But your thoughts are also deafening.”

“Sorry,”

This woman was intoxicating. Alluring and beautiful in her presence. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt hugging her form. You weren’t positive what time it was- what day it was- but it could be late into the night. She looked like she was roused from sleep, and a part of you felt guilty for the fact.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Her voice was much more tender than it had been a few moments ago. “You can’t control being brought back from the dead. A lot of trauma comes with that.”

You stood shakily and walked closer to the glass. They’d taken your shoes and the tile under your feet was frigid. You crossed your arms over your chest and shivered into yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that they had undressed you, probably taken your clothes for testing. Instead they left you in a blue set of scrubs.

You averted your stare from your own reflection, not willing or ready to look too hard. You’d much rather look at this stranger, your heart not slowing, your head pounding. Nothing but a simple pane of glass separated you.

“And I was brought back from the dead, wasn’t I? That wasn’t a fucked-up dream where I got hit by a car and then poof God, if there is one, decided that me of all people was worth bringing back.”

She lilted her head, quirked an amusing brow at you. A chill flushed down your spine and seemed to fizzle out at your toes. This woman was gorgeous and terrifying and made you want to squirm. But if this was prison, you had to assert dominance. Right? That’s what Wentworth taught you.

This cell didn’t look or feel like Wentworth, and this Warden had an amused smile tacked to her lips like she had heard your every thought. And she had. At least you assumed that she did. She’d mentioned her wife earlier, and the woman’s body against your own was plaguing you like a runaway freight train.

When she didn’t say anything, you clawed to fill the silence “I want to talk to Bruce.”

“Bruce? Honey, he’s off world.”

“Off… world.” You laughed, softly at first but then almost manically, tears forming in your eyes that you wiped away with your cold fingers. “No, no, that’s really cool. I worked a 9-5 and now I can’t talk to Bruce because he’s in Outer Space.”

“Maybe not outer space, maybe another dimension.”

You leveled her with a humorless glare. She had both of her hands up as if she wanted to comfort you, or the caged animal you had become. You had to give her credit, she seemed just as horrified as you were. She offered up a dim, faltering smile.

There wasn’t a way for you to process this in a gentle manner, there was no one to guide you through it other than Jenn. She’d done this before, lived a whole life that was flipped upside-down and she’d come out on the other side. It was the uncertainty that scared the hell out of you.

“You were in my head earlier,” You stopped suddenly, pressing your fingers against the glass. The woman didn’t flinch. Your frantic breath fogged with each exhalation. “Do you know why I came back?”

She shook her head, “No. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” A weak chuckle, you let your hands drop. “At least we’re on the same page.”

The nurse they allowed to enter through the side of the containment unit took cautious steps towards you that made your chest ache. All your life, people had said how welcoming and kind you were; how they were never afraid to come to you with their worries. It had bothered you before the incident, before your death, but now you missed seeing the stare of those who didn’t harbor any fear.

She was small, a mouse of a thing that had pale blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Her name tag read Julia. Your mind rushed with the paths she’d taken to this place. She must be interning here, much too young to hold a classification herself.

Your finger twitched on your knee, palm sweaty. It’s heat radiated through the thin blue fabric of the pants they’d provided you with. You hated needles, always had. But, you struggled to stay still and the effect that had on poor nurse Julia was making you fidget more.

There was a scent about her. It was under the layers of hairspray, nail polish, and shea butter. It was a sweet metal that made your stomach swirl. Was it her sweat? You’d never smelt anything past walking by the bomb that was the boys locker room, and it certainly had never been this tantalizing before.

Your eyes met hers, crystal blue and uncertain. “You’ll just feel a little pinch”

This is when you pulled your gaze back and instead focused on the cream colored walls. There was no problem with needles, you’d dutifully sit for your flu shots, but something about the sharp edge pushing through a layer of skin and fat before hitting your vein made you nauseous.

“We just need enough to run a few tests.” Julia soothed.

She was a normal nurse in that one, small way. Your mind was itching, blood seeming to congeal. It refused to cooperate and her burning touch was all but dominant against your skin. You both waited for the small tube to fill with black liquid. 

Finally, you felt her press the gauze against the crook of your arm and withdraw the needle. Another small pinch and then a massive relief. Her smell hung around you and filled the room. There was an undeniable urge to sink your teeth into her. To taste her.

You’d stopped the elevator just hours before to assess your penchant for brain consumption, but this wasn’t that. This was an intoxicating pull. This was animalistic, the same rush of emotion that had flooded you without prompting during your earlier conversation.

Julia squeezed your shoulder calmly, not entirely over her own reservations, but on the penance that she was a nurse and this was her job. You kept yourself rooted to the bed, fingers digging into the wood. She left the room and you could hear the compressed lock reseal you inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

That sweet odor lingered, and your reaction to it scared you more than anything. The wood beneath your fingertips splintered, and suddenly that anger, that fear, rolled away to shock. That wasn’t… normal. None of this was normal, but you weren’t exactly picked first in sports either.

You were a middle kid, a I guess I wouldn’t mind having you on my team kid. Suddenly your fingers were cutting through wood like it was butter. You let out an indignant squeak and shifted the blanket until the slashes were covered.

“Is everything alright?”

Wanda, you had learned that her name was Wanda, occupied her usual spot in front of the window. A slick sweat covered your forehead. She was holding a small tray that had a steaming bowl of soup and a delicious hunk of French bread.

“I figured you were hungry,” She lifted her chin towards the panel next to your door. “May I?”

“I’m at your mercy.”

And you were, truly. You hadn’t seen anyone but her since you’d woken up. There were shadows of others, people that made the pit in the center of your stomach grow three sizes. You knew exactly what they were doing, you watched enough true crime with Jennifer to know.

Here was this beautiful and powerful woman offering you food and words of comfort, and you allowed yourself to fall for all of it. Listlessly. Because what did you have to lose? You’d already died, and the thought of putting your family through the heartache of resurrection and then possibly enough committal to the ground was too much.

So, let her Stockholm syndrome you. The food smelled divine.

Wanda didn’t hold the same fear that Julia had. In fact, once the compression of air signified that it was okay for her to enter, she did so without hesitation. She set the food down on the equally dull side table and lowered herself onto the corner of the bed, making herself at home.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt that had the outline of SHIELD on its sleeve. You frowned, for a company that does everything in its power to keep itself hidden, they sure loved that stupid bird so much.

“Go on, sweetie. You can eat.”

Wanda had a command about her that made you fold and listen despite any reservations. You took up a spot on the far end of the bed and shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth. An explosion of heady flavors coated your tongue, coaxing a low moan from your lips.

Blush rushed to your cheeks at the spark in the set of stormy eyes that watched you like a hawk. You rushed to break the tension. “So, what’s the plan here? Run a bunch of tests and keep me locked up?”

“Somewhat.” She paused, carefully thinking of her next words. “Y/n, I have the ability to get inside the psyche. Not only can I read every thought, every action, but I can control them too. It’s not something I like to do, nor something I want to. Not without permission.”

You frowned again. You certainly hadn’t given her permission to enter your mind before, and she tensed at the realization. But, you took another bite of soup and swallowed down the spiced broth. What’s done was done. You didn’t expect her to ask, much less admit to her wrongdoing.

“I prefer to ask. Can you tell me what you do for work?”

“Paralegal, the bar seemed like too much stress. But I’m good at my job. I was good at my job before a car turned me into sidewalk art.”

“Right, and your family, what about them?”

There was no desire to think of them and their perfect lives that you’d shattered with your death. Your mother used to sit in the tepid air on the porch swing, downing a glass of wine before she turned to you with tears in her eyes. She’d urge you to be careful working in the city. She’d plead for you to come home. More than anything, she’d utter the phrase a mother should never outlive her daughter.

“My mother is a seventh grade biology teacher and my father runs a painting business that’s been operating my whole life. They’re not very exciting people. They must be worried sick about me.”

Wanda nodded, “Any siblings?”

“Not anymore.”

She stilled at your words and didn’t pry. You were well aware of the fact that she could push through your deflections and learn the information that she wanted to know. But, you respected that she didn’t. Instead, she stared at you, and you stared right back, suddenly not hungry.

Wanda was someone that you felt the need to open-up to. Unlike the brief encounter you had had with her wife. Not that you let that word stick with you, not in the same way that her touch did. Again, you had to push the thoughts to the back of your mind, even if Wanda wasn’t prying.

Instead, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers through your body. You suppressed a whimper at the sudden contact.

“I had a brother named Pietro. He was fast, unnaturally so. Neither of us ever wanted to be heroes, we didn’t think about the future like that. So, when the Avengers, these so-called saviors of the world, recruited us, we knew about the dangers. But it still shocked me when he died. He was my brother. He wasn’t supposed to be fragile like that.”

You stared at her with an amount of tenderness in your eyes that she wasn’t used to from the others. They cared, sure, but in the way that a co-worker would care enough to purchase cut flowers and a ‘sorry for your loss’ card. You were different.

“They’re our protectors.” You swallowed hard, mouth dry “when something drastic happens, it doesn’t seem real.”

“It still doesn’t.”

There was a lapse of silence that pushed memories in your direction. The burning cold weather on the day your own brother had died. You remember the scream that died in your throat and the way you’d knelt in the cracked snow until you couldn’t’ feel your legs or your fingers. It took an EMT with a heated blanket and a horror story about hypothermia to pull you to your feet.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

She let out a questioning hum, pulling her feet from the floor and making herself more comfortable on the less-than-comfortable bed. “Your brother?”

“My older brother. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he never complained. He was a hockey player and a damn good one too. He’d use the lake behind our house in Jersey to practice and one winter the ice broke underneath him. He drowned, and I was too weak to save him.”

Wanda let out a shuddered breath. You couldn’t read her facial expression. It was a mix of confusion, or sadness, but not pity and that was something you appreciated. You’d had enough pity, just as your family had enough grief without you adding to it.

She opened her mouth to reply, but both of you were startled when three quick knocks shattered the silence. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, stood on the other side. She showed no interest in breeching the containment unit. Instead, she leveled her wife with a dark stare and held up a folded piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” Wanda whispered, giving your leg a settling squeeze.

She left the plate and exited the holding cell. Her words were muffled, but those unripe green eyes that Natasha possessed kept flicking to you nervously. She too, didn’t’ show pity. It was interest and if you were being honest, you thought you saw the smallest spark of fear.

Wanda took the paper from her wife, squinted at something you couldn’t’ see. You felt like you were at a parent teacher conference, just out of bounds of hearing but you could see their body language; the way that Natasha itched to move closer to Wanda, the fingers that the taller woman pressed to her lips, thumb creasing the paper.

Finally, Wanda turned back towards the glass. Natasha met your stare without issue, hitting the intercom on the other side of the cell. It was her who spoke, her raspy voice falling from the speaker.

“In the spirit of transparency, we want to be honest with you about your blood results.”

You stood from the bed, moving to one side of the barrier. They were intimidating like that, standing shoulder to shoulder with a natural beauty. It made you want to shrink. If not for the paper in their hands you would have curled into yourself at the sight.

“Don’t tell me I’m dying.”

“No, honey.” Wanda shook her head, “Quite the opposite, you’re getting stronger.”

“I don’t understand.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow and pressed the paper against the glass so you could read it. None of it made sense, it was lines of DNA that looked like musical notes. You shook your head, giving her a confused look.

Natasha scoffed, peeling the paper from the surface of glass. Wanda bit her thumbnail nervously. “According to these…You’re Asgardian, Kitten.”

[Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato]

[dollivication]

DANTE SPARDA REFERENCE POST - whats it like?: eating him out/eating you out dmc 4, 5

cw: nsfw

It’s a known fact that Dante can be a very messy person. Just take a look at his office, and you’ll find empty pizza boxes and papers all over the place. He doesn’t care for tidiness, not really.

So when he’s eating your pussy, he is practically drowning himself in your arousal. The half-demon will slide his hands beneath your ass, kneading at the flesh as he shoves your sopping wet cunt into his face. His nose will bump your clit multiple times, shaking his head slightly with a deep hum just to see you squirm from the vibrations and additional friction. How fucking adorable.

Blue eyes are crinkled in sadistic amusement as he soaks in each and every one of your little moans, tongue delving as deep as possible, the muscle punching at your gummy walls. Don’t underestimate him just because his mouth’s too busy in order to make his little quips. To make up for the lack of teasing, Dante will slap your ass, forcing you to grind down on his face as his five o’clock shadow kisses your thighs. 

Not sure if you’re capable of squirting? Don’t worry—Dante will help you find out! If the first time is fruitless, he’ll only keep diving back in even when you try pushing his head away. Tug on his hair just like that, lift his silvery bangs so he can see your cute teary-eyed face in its glory. He'll only chuckle, knowing very well it was just going to get worse for you, the stinging sensation on his scalp spurring him on further.

But you can take a few more rounds, right? No? Well, that was too damn bad, because he wasn’t going to let you go until you leave him drenched him in your release. 

….When it comes to eating him out, you should be warned; it doesn’t take much to please him, no. He’s just greedy. 

He’s laying down, the back of his head propped up by a few pillows to watch you work. There is an ache in your jaw from the extended period of having to keep your tongue out, but you’re in no position to complain—Not when you have very little control over your movements, all guided by Dante as he shamelessly rolled his hips on your mouth, groaning with little to no shame. Truthfully, the male did not care if anyone could hear him. The way your tongue fucked into his ass completely distracted him from any worries he might have had—not that there were any in the first place.

One of his hands will grip his cock, fisting it angrily. The smug bastard will peer down at you with a lopsided smile, his bottom lip caught by his fang. 

“That’s it, sweetheart..” Dante grunted, followed by a laugh as he took in the sight of your flushed face. His hand went to clutch at your own locks, only forcing you closer.

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Deeper, honey, there you go—Oh, fuuuck.. Just like that..” 

The only time he’ll have mercy is when he pulls you back, smacking his weeping cock on your cheek a few times as his pre-cum left specks behind on the rosy skin. Use this time wisely, catch your breath, because there was no telling when this opportunity would occur again.

“Spit,” he’ll speak with nonchalance, simply parting his legs further to expose his puckered hole, the mere sight of his throbbing cock and opening working to convey his desires far louder than any words. And of course you’ll abide, because you’re a good girl. His good girl.

Nothing gets him going more than seeing your mouth all shiny from your own saliva, smearing it on his asshole as you licked at the spot with such fervor. Compliments and jeers blend together as they spew from his lips, his eyes fluttering at such sinful enthusiasm he wasn’t aware someone like you could be guilty of.

A few more pumps of his thick cock, and the man bucks his hips, his cum is cascading down the lengths of it, coating his balls in a sticky warmth. The dribbling fluid meets your taste buds, mixing with your spit to form the filthiest concoction. “Shit.. hah..”

…“Did so good for me,” Dante praised, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he attempted to catch his breath. But instead of his grip loosening, it only tightened on you.

“But I think there’s some room for improvement, don’t you?” He mused. “On your back, baby.. Let’s try something new, yeah?”

…You weren’t going anywhere for a while, it seemed.