#call and response - ask box clear out!

[system-positivity]

Your posts should be for everyone! Because even if endos don’t recognize that they have trauma, if they relate to systemhood experiences they’re plural, everyone in the community deserves to have access to the content.

If they relate to my posts, great! If they support endogenics or are endogenic themselves, I don't want them interacting with my posts or my blog.

This will not change. It will never change. It is a hard set boundary that I intend to keep. If people continue to break it they will be blocked.

No one is entitled to posts I make in my free time for the express purpose of spreading positivity to those who need it. If they happen to fall on my very minimal Do Not Interact, my posts are not for them. Even if they relate, they can find the content elsewhere.

I do not want people who support endos or endos interacting with my posts and blogs. i do not have a good history with either community due to the fact i was quite literally groomed into supporting endos.

I was actively abused and manipulated my multiple endos and supporters. It took me years of therapy to even acknowledge that fact and how it has (and does) affect me.

I have active trauma relating to endos and their supporters - leave this trauma victim the fuck alone already. Respect people when they state a boundary.

If you wish for a space for endos and supporters, make your own blog and advertise it. It's that simple. If you don't like what I post, talk to me about it (unless you want me to change my boundaries) or block me. It is that simple and costs fuck all.

PRO ENDOS & ENDOGENIC "SYSTEMS" DNI - THIS POST IS NOT FOR YOU!

[system-community-corner]

support people with DID!!!! but not people with DID who think endos are real!!!

take that shit out of ur bio

Check your entitlement towards another person's blog.

I will always support people with my disorder, even if they support people who make a mockery of it. Do you know what DNI stands for, Anon? it stands for Do Not Interact. It's exceedingly simple.

I doubt you'd care enough about the reason as to why I have such a simple, easy to follow rule for my blogs. Yet I'll always be willing to repeat myself. Pro endos and the endogenic community heavily traumatized me and my system.

We were avidly groomed by multiple people who either identified or supported endos. We were told point blank our trauma would never be enough, that the abuse we went through as a child and young teenager wasn't actual abuse in any way and that we should be thankful to have it so good compared to others.

We were manipulated into believing that our trauma was point blank - not real. The symptoms we showed meant we were endogenic and that we deserved much worse treatment if we ever disagreed with that. We were manipulated into sending adults sexualized photos of ourselves to prove that we supported endos against those bigoted anti-endo sysmeds!!

We were threatened with being doxxed, among other things, if we talked about our experiences publicly. It sounds so stupid as an adult who Knows Better - but I need to be kind to our younger self. We just wanted to fit in, we craved approval, and we didn't care how we got it or from who just so long as we were liked and valued.

Got to the point where we eventually met our ex partner system, one that over time convinced us that alter death was a real thing and that they were able to system hop and kill our alters for stepping out of line.

Multiple people routinely used our trauma against us (after they couldn't claim it wasn't real anymore) to cause us to forcibly split new parts to mold into however they wanted. Oftentimes, they'd attempt to mold the alters into a new efuck buddy <3 our in our ex partner systems case yet another fictive to roleplay with and date <3<3

It took us far too long to recognize that as harmful and abusive behavior because it was heavily normalized in the spaces we were in. We are WELL aware that not every single pro endo or endogenic person is like that.

That said, I don't think its unreasonable for not wanting them to interact with the damage a certain subset of the community has caused me. Even still with how the majority of the community continuously harms people with severe disorders with the blatant misinformation they push - willingly.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

if ur "hear me out"s include human characters i'm assuming u have absolutely no idea what ur doing and have misunderstood the assignment completely

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[chrissv4mp]

bring that over here , BILLIE E.

summary: when billie sees you come out of the shower, she can't hold back her crush on you anymore.

pairing: bsf!billie eilish × bsf!fem!reader

warnings/topics: smut, dom!billie, sub!reader, fingering, praise, begging, pet names(mamas, baby, good girl, pretty girl, etc.), oral, restraints, blindfolds, etc.

a/n: first billie one-shot, gimme ur thoughts🙏

wc: 2.6k

"call me back when you get here," billie said, finger tapping on the back of her phone as she looked up at the ceiling of her living room.

"i will, see you in a little, bills." you replied, smiling even if she couldn't see.

before you could hang up, billie's voice came through your phone again, and you put the device back up to your ear.

"wait, wait! i forgot to tell you that i got you somethin'." the girl spoke, sitting up straight on the couch before resting her feet on the coffee table.

your eyebrow raised, and you laughed nervously, "what? you really didn't have to, i'm just sleeping over for a few days. did i do something?"

billie smirked, "nope, just wanted to get you something. you work so hard and barely ever treat yourself, y/n."

your cheeks flushed, eyes flicking between your floor and the kitchen counter, "thank you."

"no problem, mamas." your smile faded at the nickname, face turning redder by the second.

it wasn't like that was the first time she's called you by that name. it was just that it had such an effect on you, and you had no idea why.

"see you later," billie muttered before she hung up.

the doorbell rang, and billie quickly got off the couch and went over to the front door. she smiled when the door opened, revealing you.

"hey," the black-haired girl said, leaning down to give you a hug before moving to the side to let you in.

"i missed you," you replied, looking back at her, placing your backpack beside the couch before sitting down.

billie hummed, lockint the door before walking over to the couch and taking a seat next to you, "i missed you, too."

"and that's why i got you this," the girl exclaimed, grabbing a white box from off the coffee table and giving it to you.

your smile widened as you grabbed the box, carefully opening it and revealing a necklace that had your initial on it, "oh my god, thank you so much, bills!"

she nodded, smile wide, "of course, y/n,"

"lemme help you put it on?" billie asked, reaching out for the necklace in which you gave it to her.

you turned your back to her, and billie gently moved your hair over to one of your shoulders, her cold touch making you shiver slightly.

billie bit her lip, noticing how soft and clear your neck was. she just wanted to mark your skin, make you hers.

she carefully clipped the necklace together, before scooting back as you turned to look over at her again.

"it looks great on you, mamas," she complimented, eyes traveling further down your body, going unnoticed by you.

your cheeks flushed again, looking down at the floor, nervous as you felt her gaze on you.

"thank you," you muttered, a small smile on your face.

"billie!" you called, and the girls head quickly went up from her phone as she got on her feet.

"yeah?" she yelled back, tucking her phone into her back pocket and making her way over to the hallway to hear you better.

"could you get my towel? i forgot it when i got in here. it's on your desk chair." billie hummed in response before making her way up the stairs to her room.

after she made her way back down, she knocked, towel hanging over her forearm as she waited for you to crack the door open.

you opened the door slightly, leaving the smallest space so billie could slip the towel through, and as the black-haired girl looked up, she froze.

her face flushed a light pink color, and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips at the sight of your body in the mirror. she could only see the top half of you, but she wasn't complaining.

your tits were on display, and billie couldn't help but stare. sure, she'd seen them whenever you two went to the beach together, but now they weren't covered.

your wet hair was still falling over your shoulders, some strands sticking to the wet skin of your neck. you looked unreal, and billie couldn't help but bite her lip.

"are you there?" your voice had the girl jump slightly before quickly slip the towel through the gap, her eyes moving down to the floor.

the door closed, and she wasted no time in walking back to the living room and sitting down in her spot again.

her phone wouldn't satiate her boredom anymore. she felt like only you could in this moment of time.

billie groaned, throwing her head back against the couch in frustration. she swore you did that on purpose. why else would you open the door that much?

maybe she was overthinking, but then again, you knew she had a crush on you. she didn't even try to hide it, and yet you still didn't care.

i mean, who wouldn't want billie eilish obsessing over them?

the creaking sound of the bathroom door caught billie's attention, her head turning to look over at you.

you stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but your towel wrapped around your body, your now dry hair falling perfectly over your shoulders.

the blush on your best friends face was noticeable from where you stood, now, and you couldn't help but smirk.

your smirk widened as you watched her stand up, making her way over to you with a pout clear on her face.

she stopped in front of you, closer than intended, before she spoke.

"what game are you trying to play, y/n?" billie asked quietly, tilting her head to the side.

your eyes stayed on hers, arms crossed over the front of your chest to hold up your towel, "i don't know what you're talking about."

her lips upturned into a small smile, taking a step closer to your half-naked body. you could feel her breath on your lips.

billie's eyes went down to your lips, her breathing shaky from how close your two bodies were.

her hands stayed at her sides, not wanting to be the first one to give in, "oh, i think you do,"

"you're teasing me, trying to get me to break," she muttered, tongue peeking out to lick her lips again, "just tell me what you want, y/n."

your eyes moved to her lips, staying there for a while before your eyes found hers again.

exhaling shakily, you grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling her body flush against yours, "i want you, billie."

she opened her mouth in a silent gasp, shock flashing over her features before she finally leaned down to kiss you.

you smiled into the kiss, feeling her hands on your waist through the fabric of your towel. billie sighed, running her tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

your lips parted, and the black-haired girl quickly dipped her tongue between your lips, exploring your mouth and whining.

she was the first to pull away, chest heaving up and down from breathlessness as she stared at you with lust-blown pupils.

"you're so fuckin' hot." the girl confessed, knees almost giving out just from the way you looked at her.

"and you're by far the best kisser i've ever met." you whispered, looking up at her.

she nodded with a smirk on her face, "yeah?"

you hummed in approval, grip on her collar loosening, "go upstairs, i'll be there in a minute."

the black-haired girl didn't think twice, following your orders as she quickly made it over and up the stairs to her bedroom.

she grabbed a hair tie from her desk, putting up her hair before sitting on the desk chair, waiting impatiently for you to come through the door.

billie bounced her leg as she heard the stairs creak, eyes fixated on her halfway open bedroom door.

she gasped quietly as she watched you open the door, your naked body on full display for her to see. her face flushed red, getting out of the chair and walking over to you.

her hand landed on your bare waist, and you shivered once again at her cold hands. her free hand went to close and lock the door before she pushed you against it.

her clothed body was flush against yours, and the feeling of the fabric of your bestfriends shirt rubbing against your chest made your nipples harden.

a whimper escaped your throat, lips parting slightly as you stared up at billie, "need you,"

the girl almost groaned at your confession, instead inhaling sharply before going to tease you, "how bad, baby?"

"s'fucking bad, bills.." you whined, hands going up to tug at her collared shirt.

her hand landed on yours, stopping your movements as she gripped your hand harshly. she finally got to touch you after all the time she's waited.

"well, you can wait a little longer, yeah? go sit on my chair for me." billie demanded softly, stepping back to let you walk over and sit.

she bit her lip, walking over and kneeling in front of where you sat, "so pretty, baby."

you sighed impatiently, moving to spread your legs and show your wetness to your best friend, "please."

the black-haired girls breath hitched, her pupils almost completely covering the light blue irises of her eyes.

"fuck—just, wait, stay here." billie exhaled, getting off her knees to go to her closet.

you listened to her, waiting on the chair for her return. when she did come back, you felt her presence behind you.

"put your hands behind the chair, y/n," she muttered softly, and you obeyed her, moving your hands so that they were resting behind you.

you felt the girl tie your hands together with a soft ribbon, and your eyes rolled back just at the thought of being restrained whole she touched you.

her hands left yours, and then she came into view again, walking back in front of you and getting on her knees.

she didn't even ask this time, knowing what your answer would be just by staring into your eyes before pulling your legs apart and tying each of them to either leg of the chair.

the ribbon was blue, of course, that was one of the colors she was obsessing over currently. she had blue everything, and fuck, even her shirt was a light blue.

there was still one last piece of fabric in her hands, and when she went to move behind you again, you knew what it was for.

"is this okay, y/n..?" she whispered, her breath on your ear turning you on even more.

you nodded frantically as if it was the last time you'd ever get to do this, and billie chuckled quietly before beginning to put it around your head.

your vision was completely black now, and you squirmed around in the chair out of excitement and nervousness.

"made me wait so fuckin' long.." you heard the girl grumble before you felt cold hands on your thighs.

"i should make you wait longer.." a pout showed on your lips, and you threw your head back softly with a whine, "but i'm nicer than that, and i want to taste you s'bad."

billie went silent, and you would've thought she left the room if it wasn't for the feeling of her breath on your chest and her weight on your lap.

you gasped as you felt her lips wrap around your nipple, her tongue swirling around the hardened bud.

her hand went to your other breast, toying with your nipple as she worked the other with her mouth.

the girl groaned as she continued her movements, her mouth moving higher up your chest and leaving a trail of purple-ish marks up to your neck.

she could mark you now, she could let everyone know that you were hers now. billie sucked on the pulse point of your neck, making you squirm even more at the pleasure.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. feels s'good, baby," you moaned quietly, hands straining against the ribbon around your wrists.

as she continued the bites on your neck, you groaned impatiently, hips bucking up in an attempt for some sort of friction.

"please, baby, i need you. need you t'fuck me so good.." you begged, and billie whined at the wetness pooling in her panties at your noises.

the girl got off your lap, quickly dropping to her knees for the third time that night. this time, you felt her lips on your thighs, trailing kissing upwards and toward the place you wanted her the most.

your hips bucked up again, and this time billie pushed you down, her grip surely leaving marks. your lips upturned into a smirk as you let your best friend control your movements.

you'd never been in a situation like this ever, and billie being one doing this to you made it all the more pleasurable.

"shit," you gasped, feeling the girls tongue run along your clit and then your entrance.

she dipped her tongue into you slightly before pulling back and repeating her motions.

after a few minutes of her torture, you heard the girl huff and then felt 2 of her fingers slip inside of your entrance.

"fuck!—billie, oh m'god," whines and whimpers fell from your lips, and you swore your wrists were white with how hard you were tugging on the ribbon.

the black-haired girl smirked as she watched you squirm, your chest rising and falling quickly, "doin' so good, pretty girl."

her fingers curled as soon as she was knuckles deep inside of you, making you let out a pornographic moan at the feeling.

she chuckled as she continued fucking you with her fingers, leaning down to wrap her lips around clit and suck harshly on the swollen bud.

billie was sure she would get noise complaints sometime tonight or tomorrow morning, but she didn't care. all she cared about was getting you off right now.

"m'gonna cum!—please, please, please lemme cum, bills..!" you begged, the rest of your sentence coming out as incoherent babbles.

she smiled around your clit, her fingers speeding up and ignoring the ache in her wrist.

her lips left your clit, and she licked them, groaning audibly at your taste, "cum for me, mamas, c'mon,"

just from her words, you came with an especially loud moan, eyes feeling like they would roll to the back of your head from the pleasure.

"s'good, such a good girl for me, baby." the girl praised, eyes fixated on the way your chest rose and fell with each breath you took.

as you came down, billie carefully pulled her fingers out of you, moving to stand up, "open."

you listened to the girl, opening your mouth and feeling her fingers rest on your tongue. you quickly lapped at them, licking then clean of your juices before she pulled her hand back.

billie took off the blindfold and restraints before helping you onto the edge of her bed to sit again.

"how was that, mamas?" she asked softly, stroking your cheek with her thumb as you rested on her clothed chest.

you only nodded, feeling incapable of speaking after the high you just came down from.

she smiled, laughing softly before kissing your head.

"so, i don't know if you know, but i'm interested in more than just bring your friend, y/n." she teased, and you laughed.

"actually shut the fuck up," you playfully nudged her shoulder before pulling her in again.

a few moments of silence, and then you spoke again, "i'm also interested in being more than just your friend, bills."

tags: @cindylcuwho @livialifesblog

[roosterforme]

Mail Call | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After a long and illustrious Naval career, Bradley was used to months spent on an aircraft carrier. Nothing ever felt quite as good as a letter from home. He thought he knew what to expect this time, but you always made things more exciting.

Warnings: adult language, masturbation, horny love letter

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley had been in the Navy long enough to know when to expect a mail call. Maybe it was intuition or a sixth sense, but after so many years of deployments, he was certain. When he woke up on Tuesday, something told him to start getting excited. There would be a box with his name written in a familiar scrawl in his hands soon. "Commander Bradshaw." He turned to see a petty officer jogging along the interior corridor of the aircraft carrier with a clipboard in hand. "Sir, here's your schedule for the day." Bradley grunted and skimmed the sheet as he made his way up to the tower. The lightness he felt mere moments ago was replaced by annoyance. Back-to-back meetings filled every inch of the sheet, including a meeting that was scheduled for after dinner.

"Damn it," he muttered, taking the stairs two at a time. His plan to collect his parcel, enjoy a meal, and then head to his private bunk to read the letter was dashed. But he was still convinced that a Comanche helicopter would touch down on deck at some point this afternoon if the weather permitted. He'd get his mail when he could. He needed to wait a little longer to hear from you, which would make him grouchy in the interim.When he pushed open the heavy door to the tower, he greeted the collection of older officers by uttering just one word. "Admirals."

They all greeted him in response with a chorus of overworked voices, and then another clipboard was thrust into his hand. Attached to this one was a sheet detailing the flight schedules for the day, and sure enough, a smile curled along his lips below his mustache when he saw that a Comanche was slated to arrive at 1500 hours with the note US Airmail Transport.

God, a letter from you was sounding better by the minute. Your tone would be soft. You'd tell him how much you missed him. There would be something in there from-

"Commander Bradshaw. Let's get started with your pilots."

His musings were cut short, and he sighed before slipping the offered headset into place and testing out the comms. He was in charge of the training exercises for this deployment, and he needed to keep his mind clear so he could keep his aviators safe. It would do him no good to be focused on what might be happening back at home. He could read about it later.

But as the day wore on, the sky darkened, and storm clouds painted the horizon. When he called his team back to the carrier and watched them land one at a time, he asked the admirals, "Should we check in with the mail transport? It seems to have gone off schedule."

Lightning cut across the sky just as the comms crackled to life with a new voice. "This is Comanche. We're coming in low from the east, trying to avoid the rain. Are we clear to make a quick landing in seventeen minutes?"

Bradley listened to the air traffic team guide the helicopter in, and sure enough, the landing was low and loud, followed by another crack of lightning. He watched from his high vantage point as a team ran out in boots and rain slickers to collect bin after bin of mail, and now his hands were itching again. He could already feel the familiar weight of the box packed with his favorite snacks and some handmade artwork.

"Commander, you'll be late to meet with the pilots."

Bradley was once again yanked from his daydream of being at home where it was warm and dry and cozy, and he was faced with the prospect of having to duck outside into the storm to get to the meeting rooms on time.

The first gust of wind had him shivering and wishing he could grab his mail directly from the helicopter and head back to his bunk. The second gust left him cursing under his breath. He had to go lecture all of these young pilots about where they needed to improve before they could fly their mission, and he just didn't have the energy for it.

"Work now, reward later," he told himself, taking a deep breath and picturing your smile. That was enough to get him through the meetings. It was enough to get him back to his small office where he wrote up his notes for the day. It was even enough to get him all the way to the narrow hallway where the mail was being sorted.

But now there was a massive fucking line of officers in uniform waiting for the same thing he was. And to top it off, his stomach was growling. He could bail out of line, eat dinner, and come back later, hoping there was still someone there to disperse the mail before they closed up shop for the night. But it wasn't worth the risk. He'd be happy to skip dinner in favor of mail from you. It wasn't even a question in his mind.

When he finally reached the window and the rows of alphabetized bins, he told the officer in charge, "Bradshaw, Bradley," and then waited quite impatiently to have an ordinary looking cardboard box thrust into his hands. But his heart leapt with joy as soon as he held it and saw your handwriting. "Thank you."

The box felt a little lighter than usual. Maybe you didn't have time to load it up with as many snacks as you usually did. He hated leaving you for weeks and months at a time to deal with everything at home on your own. He loved being at home for the day to day grind. Loved it. But there was something unique about seeing how much things changed while he was gone.

He shook the box a little bit, curiosity getting the best of him. He passed the cafeteria and ran like a child to get back to his bunk as quickly as he could where he set the box down and tore into it. When he saw the three envelopes on top, he had to fight back his tears and take a deep breath.

He carefully picked up the envelope that said Daddy in purple crayon and opened it up to find several coloring sheets and a note written in light pink crayon that was a little hard to read.

Daddy,

I lost my first toooth. The toooth fairee took it. I got a glittery doller. I drew you the toooth and the fairee.

Love, Wren

Bradley found the corresponding page with a drawing of the tooth along with the tooth fairy. His daughter also wrote her name all over the back of the paper in every color crayon imaginable which made him smile. He read her note again before carefully placing it on his nightstand, and then he picked up the envelope that said Dad in black pen.

Dad,

When are you coming home? Fourth grade is so boring. We are learning how to write in cursive, but I already know how. Mom doesn't make the homework as fun as you do. Don't tell her I said that.

Actually everything is better when you're at home. I had a good report card, so mom let me get a skateboard. I covered it in bird stickers. I can almost stand on it for three seconds. Soccer tryouts are next week, and mom promised to take a video so you can watch it later. When are you coming home again? I'll make sure she doesn't delete the video.

Wren drew you a tooth fairy, but it looks like a demon. So then I started to try to draw the tooth fairy, and it looks really cool. It's on the back of the page. Please write back and tell us when you're coming home.

Love, Hawk

His son's version of the tooth fairy did look pretty cool, and now Bradley was cracking up as he took a second look at the one his daughter drew. Yeah, it was a bit frightening. He set both notes aside, finally ready to read what you had written to him. The third envelope said Bradley in your familiar handwriting, but his heart lurched into his belly. Instead of the thick envelope filled with page after page that he usually received from you, this one was light. His brow creased in concern as he opened it up to reveal just one sheet.

Bradley,

We miss you. The kids are mostly holding it together, but we're waiting until we know your return date to start a countdown. You know how much Wren cries when the countdown goes on for too long. Honestly, it makes me want to cry, too.

I could write you a novel about work and school and how much I miss you, but I thought it might just be more fun to show you. I got a little carried away with the camera a few nights ago when I couldn't sleep. I was too hot, and your pillow still smells like you. It smelled so good. I started thinking about what you and I will do when you get home. Then I couldn't stop. I literally could not stop touching myself, Bradley.

It never feels as good without you, but I do think some of the photos portray just how vivid my imagination was that night. Like I said, I got carried away.

Let us know when you'll be home.

Love, Your horny wife

Bradley immediately started digging through the box, and he soon realized you'd only included a thin layer of his favorite snacks. He scooped them out onto his bed and was left with some Polaroids. A lot of Polaroids.

"Holy shit," he whispered under his breath, reaching in and pulling out a photo of you wearing nothing but a tiny lace thong in his favorite shade of blue. He loved that thing. He loved taking it off of you. Your arm was covering your breasts in the photo, but that was okay. He had a vivid imagination.

Oh, but you didn't leave him hanging at all. The next one he grabbed was you sprawled out in bed, tits on full display, thong present and accounted for. You were biting down on your lip, and he could almost hear you moan. Your nipples were hard and looked just like they did after he had them in his mouth.

"God damn it, Baby. You're killing me." He missed his family. He missed being at home. But right now, all he could think about was fucking the absolute shit out of his wife.

Now he was looking at a beautiful shot of just your face, eyes closed, lips parted in pleasure. That was followed up by you bending over in the thong. And then one where you had your nose buried in his pillow.

There were so many photos, he was getting dizzy. And he was hard. He took a few seconds to unzip his khaki uniform pants while his eyes searched through the photos still inside the box. "Damn," he groaned, wrapping his right hand around his cock while he picked up one of the photos with his left.

You were straddling his pillow in your underwear. Literally grinding your pussy against it. Back arched, tits front and center, riding his pillow like it was his face. He really wished it was.

"Okay, Baby," he murmured, picking up another one while he stroked himself. Your hand was inside your thong. Another one where your blue thong was pulled to the side, showing off your pussy. Another one where you had two fingers knuckle-deep inside yourself. Another one where you were licking your wet fingers.

When he reached blindly into the box again, his hand connected with something softer next to the Polaroids. To his absolute delight, his fingers wrapped around that bit of fabric that he recognized right away. The blue thong. His cock jumped in excitement as he raised your panties slowly from the box and brought them all the way to his face. He knew. He knew you hadn't washed it. He just fucking knew this little thing was put in the box directly after you came all over it and dragged it down your soft legs.

His mouth watered as he pressed it to his nose. Eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled the scent of your arousal. He moaned your name. He could practically taste you as he rutted into his own hand. Bradley inhaled and exhaled your smell, running the lace along his nose, mustache and lips. The fabric was soft on his face, and he could picture you teasing him with it.

He would do anything to have you right now. He wanted you bent over the end of the bed, sobbing and begging him to go harder. He wanted your sweet voice in his ear. He wanted you on your knees. He wanted to bury his face in your pussy until you screamed.

"Jesus Christ," he whined, panting as he jerked himself off. All he could smell was you. It smelled like home and being in love. He couldn't get enough as he rubbed your thong all over his face before lowering it down to his cock. The lace felt exquisite as he ached with need. The fabric glided along in his hand, creating a friction that left him groaning.

He jerked himself off slowly, trying to make it last as long as he could, but the Polaroids were all he could see, and your pussy was all he could smell. He came all over your thong, ribbons of white decorating it while he held onto the wall for support.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered, voice harsh as he drained every drop onto the lace. He held the sticky mess in his hand and huffed out a surprised laugh. From thousands of miles away, you did this to him. This was different from the mail he usually received from you, but he wasn't complaining. He got a nice update on what was happening at home plus a lot more than he bargained for.

Bradley walked into his tiny bathroom and draped your thong over the sink faucet before washing his hands. Maybe he'd have time to grab some dinner before returning to his bunk to write back to you, Hawk, and Wren. He had so much to say. Especially to you. He'd set himself up in bed with one of his clipboards and tell you all about what you made him do.

"Oh, shit," he told his reflection in the mirror as he thought about his clipboard again. "Fuck!"

He had one more meeting left. Starting in just minutes. He eased his cock back into his pants, still zipping up as he left his bunk. Then he walked while discreetly trying to tuck his shirt in and straighten out his uniform.

The further he got from your wrecked underwear, the more he realized he could still smell you. He was going to be able to smell you all night. This was going to be a painfully long meeting. And the letter he wrote to you later was going to be as dirty as your underwear.

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

Thanks for reading! It's been a while since I posted a Bradley one-shot, and this one was hanging out in my drafts for a bit. Much love for a DILF. Hope you enjoy your Valentine's Day as much as Bradley enjoyed his mail!

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[ruewritesoccasionally]

Shades of Red | Terry Richmond

Pairing: Dark!Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

Warnings: dark themes + smut 18+, breaking + entering, jealousy, possessiveness, toxic themes, slight power dynamics, rough sex, choking, light slapping, spitting, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), squirting, breeding kink } everything is consensual but read at your own risk !

Summary: Passion, anger, lust, jealousy—all woven together into one man. Terry is charming, entitled, enticing and dangerous. YN couldn’t have seen his latest move coming….

Word count: 4.7K

a/n: This is my first time writing anything remotely dark and I think I really stepped outside of my little box. I wanted to craft a toxic love letter of sorts and I'd love to hear your thoughts..

Terry Richmond wasn’t the kind of man who stayed anywhere too long. His life was like a shifting tide—here today, gone tomorrow, always pulling away just when you thought you had him figured out. The nomadic way he moved through life suited him. He’d had his fill of staying still, of people poking too closely at the layers of armour he’d carefully crafted. Shelby Springs was just another pit stop, a place he landed when the world got too loud. And it’s where he met YN.

They’d been introduced a couple of years back through a mutual friend who had the bright idea of setting them up. “You two would be perfect for each other,” the friend had said with entirely too much conviction. But what had started as a well-intentioned matchmaking attempt quickly took a detour.

From the jump, Terry and YN decided that dating wasn’t in the cards. He was too restless, too unpredictable. She had her own life, full and vibrant, with no room to babysit someone who disappeared for weeks at a time with no explanation. Still, their chemistry was undeniable, electric in a way neither could ignore. They both wanted something—each other. And so, they reached a compromise: friends with benefits. No strings, no expectations, no hard feelings.

For the most part, it worked. YN respected Terry’s need for space, and he appreciated that she didn’t cling or demand more than he was willing to give. She had her own thing going on—a career she loved, friends who kept her laughing, and a life that was full even without him in it. She’d grown used to his disappearing acts, the way he’d go rogue and vanish for weeks or months at a time. He always came back, though. And when he did, he always found his way to her.

He was good at that—finding her. A text here, a call there, a late-night knock on her door. She’d let him in every time because, for all his flaws, there was something about Terry that drew her in. Maybe it was his charm, that easy confidence that made her roll her eyes even as it made her pulse quicken. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered when he was near. Whatever it was, she couldn’t quite quit him. And truthfully, she didn’t want to.

But this time felt different.

His text came in the middle of the day while her phone was on silent. She didn’t see it until much later, after the rush of meetings and emails had finally died down.

“Be back in town tomorrow night. Clear your schedule for me.”

The audacity of it made her laugh out loud. Terry had never been one to ask—he told. It was part of his charm and part of what made her want to strangle him sometimes. Still, she wasn’t mad. She got as much out of their arrangement as he did, and she’d been known to hit him up with the same kind of energy when the mood struck. They were equals in that way, unapologetic about what they wanted from each other.

But tonight, she couldn’t clear her schedule for him.

She typed out her response quickly, a small smirk on her lips as she imagined his reaction.

“Can’t tomorrow. Got a date.”

The reply came faster than she expected.

“A date, huh?”

That was it. No teasing, no snide comments, no flirty jabs. Just three little words that carried a weight she couldn’t quite place.

She frowned at the screen, re-reading the message as if the meaning would suddenly reveal itself. It was unlike Terry not to have some kind of comeback, some witty remark designed to get under her skin. The lack of it left her unsettled. But she shrugged it off, chalking it up to him being busy or distracted.

On the other side of the phone, though, Terry wasn’t as calm as he seemed.

Sitting in a dingy motel room on the outskirts of God-knows-where, he stared at her message, his jaw tight. A date. Someone else was taking her out, sitting across from her, making her laugh, looking at her the way he looked at her. And worse, someone else might be touching her, staking a claim to what he’d quietly, possessively come to think of as his.

He took a slow, steadying breath, forcing himself to calm the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. She wasn’t his. Not really. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. But the thought of someone else having her, even for one night, made his chest burn with something he couldn’t quite name.

Terry’s fingers hovered over the screen, itching to say something, to tell her to cancel, to remind her who always had her coming back. But he stopped himself. No, he’d let her have her little date. Let her laugh and flirt and pretend that whoever this guy was could give her what she needed. Because when it was all said and done, she’d come back to him.

And when she did, he’d make damn sure she remembered exactly who she belonged to.

Terry Richmond wasn’t an easy man to forget, and that much was evident as YN stood in her bathroom mirror, smoothing on her lipstick for the finishing touch. Tonight was a rare occasion for her—a date with someone who wasn’t him. She tilted her head slightly, assessing her reflection. The soft waves in her hair framed her face just right, the shimmer on her eyelids caught the light, and the dress she’d chosen fit like a second skin. She looked good. She felt good.

Still, a shadow lingered in the back of her mind, one with piercing eyes and an infuriatingly smug smirk. YN had spent the last two hours convincing herself this date was just what she needed: a change, something uncomplicated. Terry was Terry—a storm she willingly walked into time and time again. But tonight? Tonight was about something different, something quieter.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and her eyes flicked to the screen. A simple text from her date: “Looking forward to tonight. See you soon!”

She smiled faintly, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. YN tucked the phone into her clutch, grabbed her coat, and headed out. It was time to leave Terry Richmond out of her headspace—for now.

The restaurant was cozy and inviting, the kind of place that struck a balance between intimate and casual. Her date, Mark, had chosen well. He was polite, attentive, and easy on the eyes—a charming blend of confidence and warmth. They’d talked about work, travel, books, and even swapped a couple of funny anecdotes about their childhoods. By all accounts, it should’ve been perfect.

But halfway through Mark’s story about his latest hiking trip, YN caught herself tuning out. Not entirely—she was still nodding at the right moments, laughing softly where appropriate—but her mind drifted, unbidden, to another memory. One of Terry.

She could almost hear his voice, teasing and sharp. “Hiking, huh? Bet he’s one of those guys who carries a selfie stick to the summit just to post about it.” The thought was so vivid, so him, that YN nearly laughed aloud. She caught herself, her smile faltering for a moment before she refocused on Mark.

“So, what about you? Do you hike much?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

“Not really,” YN replied smoothly, pushing the thought of Terry aside. “But it sounds like you’ve had some incredible adventures.”

Mark beamed, and the conversation continued. YN did her best to stay present, to enjoy the evening for what it was. By the time dessert came around, she’d almost succeeded in compartmentalizing the storm that was Terry Richmond.

Almost.

The date ended as expected—with polite goodbyes and the suggestion that they should “do this again sometime.” Mark walked her to her car like a gentleman, and she thanked him for the lovely evening. As she slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door, YN let out a small sigh.

It hadn’t been a bad date—not by a long shot. Mark was sweet, thoughtful, and seemed genuinely interested in her. But he wasn’t...well, she refused to finish that thought.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she started the engine, the soft purr of the car filling the quiet night. She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. The lipstick was still perfectly intact, the curls still falling in place. By all accounts, the night had been a success. So why did it feel like something was missing?

Across town, Terry sat in his truck, parked a few blocks from YN’s apartment. His phone screen glowed faintly in the darkness as he scanned the messages she hadn’t yet responded to. His jaw tightened. The thought of her out with someone else wasn’t one he could swallow easily, no matter how cool and composed he pretended to be.

Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabbed the small black bag he’d brought with him. It contained exactly what he needed—what he’d planned for. With practiced ease, Terry slid out of the truck and moved through the shadows. The street was quiet, the kind of stillness that came late at night when most people were already home.

It didn’t take him long to reach her place. The familiarity of it was almost comforting. Almost. He worked quickly, his movements precise and deliberate, the product of years spent learning how to move unseen, unheard. Within moments, he was inside.

The scent of her perfume—light, floral, undeniably her—lingered in the air. Terry inhaled deeply, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He made his way to the living room, his boots barely making a sound against the hardwood floors.

There, on the coffee table, was the bottle of whiskey she kept for him. He chuckled softly, pouring himself a glass and settling into the armchair in the corner of the room. The dim light from the streetlamp outside cast long shadows across the walls, and Terry sat there, waiting.

She’d be home soon. And when she walked through that door, she’d find out exactly what happened when you tried to leave Terry Richmond behind.

The hum of her car engine faded into the quiet night as YN pulled into her driveway, the evening’s events still replaying in her mind. The date had been pleasant enough—a nice dinner, polite conversation, and a genuine, if not thrilling, connection. But as she turned off the ignition, an inexplicable sense of unease settled over her, clawing its way into her chest. It had been faint earlier, an odd niggling in the back of her mind, but now it was undeniable. Something was off.

Stepping out of the car, she adjusted her coat and approached her front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. As her hand reached for the keys in her bag, she froze. The door wasn’t locked. Her pulse quickened, and she stood there for a moment, staring at the slightly ajar entrance.

No. She distinctly remembered locking it before leaving. Didn’t she?

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, her mind racing. Maybe she had been distracted and forgotten in her rush to leave. But no matter how she tried to rationalise it, the unease only deepened. The air around her felt heavy, charged, as though the house itself was holding its breath.

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside cautiously, her senses on high alert. The room was unnervingly quiet, and yet something wasn’t right. There was an energy in the space that hadn’t been there before, a presence she couldn’t see but could feel. She paused in the doorway, her hand still gripping the doorknob as her eyes scanned the dimly lit room.

Then it hit her—the faintest trace of cologne lingering in the air, mingling with the rich, unmistakable scent of whiskey. Her stomach dropped. It couldn’t be. Could it?

Her voice cut through the silence, firm but edged with trepidation. "Terry?"

No answer. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took a tentative step further into the house. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. "Terrance Richmond," she called again, louder this time, her tone sharper, more demanding. "If this is some kind of joke, I swear—"

Her words faltered as her eyes adjusted to the low light, finally spotting the shadowed figure seated in the corner of the room. The amber glow of a table lamp barely illuminated his silhouette, but she didn’t need to see his face to know. She would recognise his posture anywhere, relaxed yet commanding, his arm draped over the back of her chair as though he owned the place. The glass in his hand caught the light as he raised it to his lips, the sound of ice clinking faintly breaking the silence.

"Terry," she breathed, her voice a mix of anger and disbelief.

He set the glass down with deliberate slowness, leaning forward just enough for the light to catch his features—a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker. "Welcome home, Princess."

“You’re home late,” he said, his voice smooth and low.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through her veins. “How did you even get in?”

He raised the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before answering. “You’re not the only one with a key, Princess.”

“I never gave you—”

“You didn’t have to,” he interrupted, setting the glass down with deliberate precision. “I’m a resourceful man.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, fury and confusion warring inside her. “You can’t just break into my house, Terry. That’s insane.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving hers. “What’s insane is you thinking I wouldn’t notice.”

“Notice what?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“You,” he said simply, his tone unnervingly even. “Trying to replace me. With him.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating and thick. YN stared at him, her mind racing to process what was happening. This wasn’t Terry—at least, not the Terry she thought she knew. The possessiveness in his voice, the casual way he’d invaded her space, it all screamed of something darker, something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

“This isn’t about you,” she said, forcing her voice to steady. “I have a life outside of you, Terry. You don’t get to control that.”

His lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “I’m not here to control you, YN. Just to remind you who you belong to.”

Terry’s words lingered in the air, heavy with promise and warning, as he took a slow step closer. The air crackled between them, electric, suffocating and sinister. YN felt her pulse thunder in her ears, the thrum of anticipation coursing through her veins like wildfire. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run, to retreat, to reclaim control of the situation, but her feet refused to move. It wasn’t fear that kept her rooted in place—it was him. The commanding weight of his presence, the way his eyes bore into her with a heat that made her knees tremble.

“Terry,” she began, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to steady it, “I—”

He cut her off with a single step, closing the distance between them until the barest whisper of air separated their bodies. His scent—whiskey, spice, and the faintest trace of cedar—enveloped her senses, dizzying and disarming.

“Don’t,” he growled, tilting his head slightly as if daring her to finish that sentence. “Don’t give me excuses. Don’t feed me lies about him or pretend he’s what you want.” His hand came up, fingers brushing against her jaw, and she flinched—not from fear, but from the raw, undeniable pull between them. “You and I both know that man doesn’t know a damn thing about you.”

Her lips parted, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but he moved faster. His hand slid to the back of her neck, gripping just firm enough to make her gasp. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice a rough rasp against her ear. “Say you thought about me tonight.”

YN’s breath hitched. She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was delusional, but the truth burned hotter in her chest than any denial ever could. She had thought about him. His presence lingered in the back of her mind all night, the ghost of his touch, the memory of his voice. It had tainted every polite smile, every harmless laugh, every fleeting touch from a man who wasn’t him.

“I hate you,” she whispered instead, the words trembling with a mixture of fury and something far more dangerous.

Terry’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin. “Hate me all you want, Princess,” he drawled, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. “But don’t forget who makes you feel alive.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed against hers, rough and unyielding. It wasn’t a kiss born of tenderness; it was hunger and frustration, a collision of wills that neither of them intended to lose. YN’s hands pushed against his chest, but it only seemed to fuel him further. He growled low in his throat, his teeth grazing her bottom lip before his tongue swept inside, claiming her in a way that made her knees buckle.

Her defiance melted into something impure, needier. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even as she cursed herself for it. Terry’s hand slid down her back, gripping her waist and yanking her against him with a force that made her gasp into his mouth.

“You’re a piece of work,” she hissed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“And you love every second of it,” he shot back, his voice dripping with arrogance. His hands didn’t stop moving, sliding under the hem of her top to find bare skin. The heat of his touch burned against her, sending shivers cascading down her spine.

“Terry…” Her voice faltered as his fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of her hip. She hated how easily he unravelled her, how her body betrayed her with every shiver, every hitch of her breath.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips finding the curve of her neck. He bit down lightly, just enough to make her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. “I told you, I’m not here to control you. But you’re going to remember exactly who you belong to by the time I’m done.”

With one swift motion, he lifted her onto the counter, his hands gripping her thighs with bruising force. YN barely had time to protest before his mouth was on hers again, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for argument. His hands pushed her dress higher, exposing more of her skin to the cool air and his insatiable touch.

She moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked through. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against her lips. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. “All night, you were mine. Even when you were with him.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of anger and arousal.

“Make me,” he challenged, his voice dripping with smug defiance.

She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into another kiss, pouring every ounce of frustration and longing into it. But Terry wasn’t content to let her take control for long. His hand slid further up, his fingers pressing against her with a skill that had her crying out despite herself.

“Say it,” he demanded again, his breath hot against her ear as his fingers worked her relentlessly. “Say you’re mine.”

“Terry,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as the tension in her body built to an unbearable crescendo.

“Say it,” he growled, his voice taking on an edge that sent a shiver of both fear and excitement racing through her.

“I—I’m yours,” she choked out, the admission torn from her lips as her body betrayed her completely.

He grinned wickedly, his fingers pushing her over the edge with ruthless precision. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as she shattered in his arms, her cries echoing through the room.

And he wasn’t done yet.

Terry’s grip on YN’s hips tightened, the pads of his fingers digging into her flesh as he hovered above her. His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting, as if trying to burn every unspoken word into her very soul. He leaned down, his mouth a breath away from hers, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured, “You only ever say my name tonight. Nothing else. No one else.”

Before she could respond, his lips descended on hers with bruising intensity. The kiss was all-consuming, a searing mix of dominance and desperation, his tongue delving into her mouth as though he could taste every word she hadn’t yet spoken. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over her swollen lips, and he smirked like a predator.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his voice rough, laced with dark amusement. “Always trying to act tough. Always pretending like you don’t need me. But I’ll fix that.”

Without another word, he moved lower, kissing his way down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and between her breasts. His teeth scraped lightly against her skin, eliciting a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He paused for a moment, watching her with an almost sadistic level of patience, as if daring her to tell him to stop.

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

His hands roamed lower, pushing her thighs apart with an ease that made her stomach twist with equal parts annoyance and anticipation. She was already dripping wet, the evidence of her arousal glistening in the low light. Terry groaned at the sight, a deep, primal sound that sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

“Look at you,” he said, almost to himself, as he trailed his fingers along her folds. “So fucking perfect. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Before she could muster any sort of response, he lowered his head between her thighs, his tongue swiping a deliberate, teasing stripe through her slickness. Her back arched involuntarily, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. Terry chuckled against her, the vibrations making her toes curl.

“That’s it,” he murmured, before diving in with a newfound ferocity. His tongue worked her clit in relentless circles, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks that had her gripping the sheets for dear life. He didn’t stop there, though. Two of his fingers slipped inside her, curling upward in a way that made her see stars.

“Oh, fuck—Terry,” she choked out, her voice raw with desperation.

He hummed in approval, his name falling from her lips like a melody he wanted to hear on repeat. Her thighs began to tremble, the pressure building so quickly it almost scared her. She tried to pull away, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his hands clamped down on her hips, anchoring her in place.

“Uh-uh,” he growled, his lips never leaving her clit. “You’re not running from this. You’re taking everything I give you.”

The overstimulation had her head spinning, tears welling up in her eyes as her orgasm tore through her. She screamed his name, her body shaking uncontrollably as she soaked his fingers, his mouth, everything. Terry groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop like a man possessed.

When her body finally went limp, he sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with something feral as he watched her struggle to catch her breath.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “See? You don’t need anyone else. Just me.”

Before she could recover, he was on her again, positioning himself between her legs. He leaned down, spitting directly into her mouth, his gaze daring her to defy him. She swallowed without hesitation, her body responding to his dominance in ways she couldn’t control.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, lining himself up at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, making her feel every inch of him, until he was buried to the hilt. He stayed there for a moment, letting her adjust, his eyes locked on hers.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one designed to remind her of exactly who she belonged to. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by her cries and his grunts.

Her mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the lines between the two blurring as he pushed her closer to the edge once more. When her responses began to falter, her head lolling to the side, he delivered a sharp slap to her cheek—not enough to hurt, but enough to snap her back into focus.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the fog. “I want to see you come undone for me.”

She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his as her second orgasm ripped through her, even more intense than the first.

The final wave of his dominance surged as Terry pressed her deeper into the mattress, his thrusts growing slow but deliberate, each one hitting with a force that left her breathless. Her legs trembled uncontrollably around his waist, every overstimulated nerve in her body aflame, her cries breaking into fragmented whimpers.

His breathing grew heavier, ragged, the telltale signs of his release building. Still, he didn’t rush—he wanted her to feel it all. Every inch of his claim. His hand tightened around her throat as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, his voice dropping to a rough, guttural growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I’m going to cum deep inside you," he rasped, his words slow and deliberate, carrying the weight of his intent. "And you’re not going to let a single drop out. You need to feel me, baby—every part of me."

Her head flung back, her lips parted in a silent gasp, unable to do anything but nod as her body clung to him, every sensation amplified. She didn’t even have time to prepare as he thrust into her one final time, his release hitting her like a brand, searing and unrelenting.

The warmth of him filled her, explored her body like it belonged there, and Terry didn’t move—he stayed there, buried to the hilt, ensuring she took every ounce of him. His hand slid from her throat to her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his intense gaze. The raw satisfaction in his eyes mirrored the shattering chaos within her.

"Mine," he murmured, the word almost reverent, though it carried the weight of a command.

They stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in the aftermath, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high. Terry brushed a stray curl from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite everything that had just transpired.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said softly, almost tenderly, though the possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[squidthusiast]

Ok, but why do I imagine Eight being the unofficial child of Pearl x Marina?

Because I imagine Eight was minding their business and all of a sudden, Pearl would slam the paper down and said “You’re adopted now”

Basically OTH at the start of their world tour haha, I love that they took Eight with them.

I have more detailed thoughts under the cut for those interested in my ramblings, analysis and interpretations of the characters.

Disclaimer: This is my own take on it, don’t let it ruin your fun!

I personally don’t really subscribe to the fandom’s ‘pearlina moms’ headcanon.

On the one hand, I am an absolute sucker for the ‘found family’ trope, and I definitely think Agent 8 and OTH fit in it!

On the other hand, I think people immediately put Pearl and Marina into the ‘parenthood’ box, a little too eagerly. Not saying this specific ask is that, btw, it just reminded me of some instances i’ve seen.

I personally think that the relationship between OTH and Agent 8 is a little more nuanced & sibling-esque, for the following reasons:

1. Within canon, we often see 8 being referred to as a friend by both Pearl and Marina.

Pearl does it more explicitly (see that one interview at her house), whereas with Marina it’s more insinuated (ex. In the Side Order dev diaries, she starts calling Agent 8 as ‘Eight’, which is stated to be a name used by their friends).

Pearl seems to be an accidental-duck-parent of sorts who haphazardly collects octoling teenagers & young musical talent. It goes in line with her whole mentor-esque leader personality, and i’m sure these disoriented teens find relief in an idol who seemingly knows what she’s doing (she really doesn’t).

However she doesn’t act in a parental manner. More-so like your estranged gay cousin who hit it big in another country and is down to show your queer little butt the ropes.

Marina on the other hand seems to have a more empathetic approach with Agent 8 (opposite to Pearl’s brashness). Marina clearly connects with Agent 8 through their shared experience as defected octoling soldiers, and probably sees her younger self in them. She’s already caring as it is, but this is accentuated during octo expansion given the circumstances.

I feel however that, unlike Pearl, Marina has a bit of a harder time actually forming a bond with Eight at the beginning. Their similarities (seemingly) end at their shared experience, and probably leaves Marina awkwardly wondering how to approach them further. What we can assume though is that they become closer friends during OTH’s world tour, given the events described in the Memverse Dev Diaries.

Meeting Eight during difficult circumstances (OE) and helping them get out creates a sense of camaraderie between them, which probably devolves into genuine care, established friendship and a strong bond amongst the three overtime.

2. Pearl and Marina are very career-centric both in Splat 2 and 3.

It is reasonable that the two young idols, who see their fame and musical recognition rise spectacularly & fast, are not particularly interested in settling down at this point in their lives.

Now entering her late 20s, Pearl is most definitely still interested in keeping the ball rolling with Off the Hook’s international success. Her character often points towards restlessness, freedom and discovery. There has definitely been character development in regards to her maturity in Splatoon 3, but these aforementioned traits are still ever present in her demeanour & decision-making.

Marina on the other hand can be seen slowly blossoming from a supporting character to being her own person. She definitely develops more self-confidence by Splatoon 3, but is still naturally bashful. It’s clear that she is allowing herself to explore & open up to new things for her own sake. She remains a caring and somewhat nurturing individual, but she is at a stage where she’s learning to live for herself and not for others.

Parenthood (and all the responsibilities and sacrifices it entails) at this moment of their lives would probably freak Pearl out, and stunt Marina’s personal growth.

3. The age gaps between OTH and Agent 8 are too close for it to create a parent/kid bond.

This makes their relationship a little hazy in regards to roles; 8 is still young enough that they may seek out rolemodels and mentors (still relatively influenceable), but they’re also nearing their 20s. By this point they are fairly self sufficient, have a sense of their personal values & identity, and they are relatively responsible & mature.

Pearl and Marina are 8’s seniors by approximately 4-6 years. However, in Splatoon 2 they’re entering their early 20s and their career has just begun to take off.

They are both still relatively youngsters, albeit older & more mature(? glancing at Pearl) youngsters than 8. This places them in a position where they can guide 8 and offer certain support and resources, but lack the maturity and experience of a full-fledged adult. This would approximate their relationship closer to that of siblings in a family setting.

Pearl & Marina are also less likely to feel a duty towards Eight as an adult would with a child. Instead, the latter’s circumstances are more likely to incite feelings of rapport and compassion as a fellow young inkfish.

Now, with all of this said, I will acknowledge that friendship/found family is MUCH more nuanced than a strict binary.

From personal experience in my last years of college, I did find myself caring for my fellow freshmen as though they were my kids, in certain ways. Hell, I called them my kids.

I acted as a proud parent whenever some of them achieved something, attempted to pass down my knowledge to them, and was protective of them to a certain extent.

They also annoyed me sometimes, like younger people do haha. And i’m sure I annoyed them too!

So I wouldn’t put it past OTH to call Eight their kid and have this mentor/parent-esque rapport with them in certain circumstances.

This is all based both on canon & my own interpretations of it, but still closely aligned to what has been shown in-game.

So if you have a different interpretation of Agent 8 and OTH, that’s great! I love to see people’s personal headcanons. Ultimately, Agent 8 is meant to be somewhat of a blank slate for the players to mold, with some hinted-at personality traits of their own.

As long as you have fun with these characters, that’s all that matters. This is just my personal opinion on their relationship in-game.

If you read all of this, you deserve the biggest golden star for listening to my incessant yapping 🤲⭐️

Feel free to bother me about this or other opinions you may have in my inbox, just be kind please!

[mountquokka]

Attention

Bang Chan X fem!reader

Word count: 1,848

Warnings: dom Chan, sub reader, bondage, heavy amounts of teasing, orgasm denial, sir kink, begging, no protection (no), pet names (baby, babygirl, babe), hair pulling, mirror sex, slight choking, oral (f receiving)

Summary: You're bored and just trying to find a way to past the time

Notes: This will have a second part 🤭

Taglist <3: @hongjoongtime117 @lee-sang1625 @wontini

Part 2>>

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays🎄☃️🎅🏻

Chan was with 3racha working on a song for their next comeback and you were alone in the dorm. You find ways to pass time. You clean any room that seemed remotely dirty and reorganized random books on the bookshelf. Looking at your phone hoping the time would go by faster yet nothing kept you occupied long enough.

You then get an idea. 

You remember you had bought an outfit to surprise him with. You knew he would love it and wouldn’t be able to resist you, so you kept it hidden. Until now…

You went to your bedroom, fetched the box you hid in the back of the closet and opened the lid. You took out the red lingerie with matching thigh highs. You admired the soft material and started changing. Once changed, you walked over to the mirror next to the bed and smiled at yourself. The lingerie hugged your body perfectly. The sheer material with lacy detail left little to imagination.

Afterwards, you put on a little lipgloss and sat on the bed. You took a pillow, placed it in front of you and put your phone on it.

You go to your camera and set the timer. You do various poses, showing off the set. When you were satisfied, you sent them to Chan with the message “I miss you sir, please come home soon. I really need you” You wait for his response with a mischievous giggle.

Chan was in the studio trying to find lyrics when he felt his phone vibrate. Usually he'd ignore it but he thought that a little break might help his writer's block. He pulls it out and sees it’s a text from you. 

He opens it and his eyes widen. He clears his throat and excused himself from the studio and went to the bathroom. He pulled up the pictures you sent again, smirking. He called you.

When you saw him calling, you smiled and answered, putting it on speaker. “Hey babe, how’s work going?” You asked innocently “Oh babygirl, I know what you’re doing” you giggled “I don’t know what you are talking about sir” he growled into the phone “watch it” you could tell you were getting to him so you push a little further. You slide your hand into your panties and moan at how wet you already were “Sir please? I need you, I’m already so wet for you.” You add a hint of tease in your tone. He groans a soft fuck, trying so hard to not pull his cock out and release right there in that bathroom. “You’re playing a dangerous game baby, you better watch it before I punish you” 

You smiled to yourself, you had him right where you wanted him “maybe that’s what I want” the phone goes quiet for a few seconds before Chan replies in a deep lust filled voice “you just wait” With that he hangs up and heads back to the studio and starts packing his things.

 “Hey everything ok?” Han asked and Changbin looked him slightly concerned. “Yeah I’m good but I gotta go… y/n needs… help. with… something? GottaGo!” Then he was out the door. Changbin and Han look at each other and just shake their heads and get back to work.

When Chan arrived at the dorms, he drop his stuff at the door. He instantly went to the bedroom where you were. He opens the door to see you laying there on the bed, in a sexy pose, looking back at him. He smirks and takes off his shirt. He walks to the bed and stops at the edge. You get on your knees in front of him on the bed. “Such a naughty girl, you really thought it was a good idea to tease me while I’m working?” “It seemed like you were enjoying” You giggled, continue your teasing. He grabs you by the throat and brings your ear to his mouth “you think this is funny? You better drop this teasing act before your punishment gets worse” you shiver and  thought for a moment, wanting to keep this game going. You put on an innocent look and answered “I just wanted your attention sir” you drag your hand against his abs, biting your lower lip. He grabs your wrist with his free hand before you can get any lower. “And now you have it” He lets go of your throat with a growl and walks to the dresser across from the bed.

He pulls out a box from one of the drawers. He takes out rope and walks back over to the bed, you’re already in position. He smirks at your eagerness and he gets onto the bed, kneeling next to you. “Arms” you raised your arms up and he started tying the rope in a basic but pretty design up to your elbow.

He gets between your legs and hovers over you. He starts kissing you and his hands roaming your body. His kisses start making its way down your body. You moan as he starts going lower. You take your tied arms and grab his hair as he kisses your inner thigh. Chan moves away and slams your arms down over your head. “Who said you could touch me? You wanted to be a tease so your lost your privilege” you whine, realizing what the REAL punishment is.

“Now be a good girl and keep your arms there”

He starts taking the bottom of the lingerie off and admired your glistening pussy before him. “you look so beautiful babygirl, so wet” he takes his index and middle finger and drags it against your folds. Your fingers twitched trying to hold back from touching. He continues to move his fingers against you as he starts bringing his face closer. He starts with a lick to your clit and you tense at the pleasure. He feels you tense up so he lightly rubs your thigh. 

He starts lapping at your folds and your hand goes to his hair, unable to stop yourself. He takes your wrists into his hand and continues licking and sucking your clit. He held your arms far enough where you couldn’t reach him even if you weren’t tied up. He pulls off your clit with a pop and looks up at you. 

“What did I say about not touching me? You just don’t wanna listen today do you?” You mewl and squirm in his hold “No wait please I’m sorry. It was a reflex. I didn’t mean t-” He cuts you off by going back to your folds also plunging two fingers into you. He pumps at a fast pace while sucking your clit. You wriggle against him as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach builds rapidly. Your moans get louder and more high pitched as you feel your release approach.

When your legs started shaking, he knew you were close and removes his fingers and mouth. You whined as your high starts to die down. “No cumming yet baby, we’re just getting started”

He gets off the bed taking off his pants but leaving on his boxers, the tent very prominent. You eyes fall to his dick and your mouth starts watering. The wet spot in his boxers doesn’t go unnoticed along with the twitch when he realized you were staring. “My eyes are up here babygirl” he says with a smirk. You look up at him with doe-like eyes “Please I want it in my mouth” He groans at your response “Do you think you deserve it? Especially with how you were acting earlier?” You pout, knowing the right answer “No…” He hums at your response.

Chan unties the rope but still pins them down so you can’t touch him “You still can’t touch me baby, your punishment isn’t over yet” You whine loudly. He flips you onto your stomach and moves behind you. He pulls you up by your hips so your ass meets his bulge. He slowly rocks himself against you groaning at the friction. You feel him twitching against you and you whimper, trying to push back against him. He holds you hips in place and continues grinding against you faster, more precum building in his boxers. 

“Please sir just fuck me already. I really need you please” he smirks and pulls down his boxers. He lines himself up to your entrance, but he doesn’t push in right away. “Hmmm, I don’t know if I should. Maybe I’ll just stay like this”  “No no please, sir I wanna feel you so bad! I’ll be good please, no more teasing I really really want you” Chan groaned at your begs. He slams into you, you let out a scream. “Damn baby you feel so good, still so tight” Your eyes roll back as you moan at his words. You grip the sheets in front of you until your knuckles turn white. You mewl out his name as he groans at you clenching him, throwing his head back. His speed increasing the more you clench him.

He looks over to the side and sees the mirror across from the bed. Then an idea pops in his head. He moves you and places you facing the mirror. He grabs your hair and pulls you up to look at yourself. “Look at how fucked out you look on my cock” you whimper as you make eye contact with him and then yourself, taking in you disheveled appearance. He grabs your boobs and squeezes them as you fall apart underneath him. He plays with your nipples through the bra of the lingerie and you start clenching around him more. He groans and starts picking up more speed. 

He starts thrusting harder getting close to his high. You start shaking getting close to yours too. “S-sir I’m gonna-“ he groans, not being able to hold back anymore. He flips you onto your back, continuing his rough pace “I wanna see your face while you cum for me” You grip the sheets next to you. He interlaced one of his hands into yours “you can touch me now baby” You wrap your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Cum for me babygirl” he moans against your lips. Your release crashes over you. Chan swallowing your screams as his hips stutter. He releases into you and you moan at the warmth of his cum painting your walls. You wrap your arms around his neck. “You took your punishment so well baby” You giggle into his neck as you come down from your high.

Chan pulls out if you and goes to the bathroom. He wets a rag and comes back into the room. He wipes you down then goes to the closet. He grabs one of his hoodies and puts it on you. He grabs boxers for himself and puts them on. He gets back on the bed and cuddles up with you. He kisses your forehead as you drift to sleep.

“You’ll never fail to get my attention babygirl”

[monzamash]

wouldn't dream of it lando norris x reader rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, angst) requested by anon for monzamusings ✨

“What are you doing here, Lando?”

“I just needed to see you.”

Things had been good with Lando. You’d started dating a couple of months ago after being set up by a mutual friend who swore up and down that you were made for each other. And she was right for a time, over winter break when life was easy, no real responsibility or commitment needed to keep whatever it was between the two of you simmering away.

Fuelled by passion and lust with a dash of attachment. He was at your place every night nearly, besides Christmas day when you both agreed taking time away from family for a hook up was absurd. He was back in your bed the day after Boxing day, and working you over until New Years Eve, just the two of you tangled up in the sheets, closed off from the rest.

But then you flew to Monaco to see his world. Big mistake. 

It felt enormous. The constant attention and the anxiety, knowing that fans were sneakily taking photos at every opportunity, which always ended up on the silly gossip pages. And they were silly to begin with, salaciously lying about who you were and what you and Lando were until it got under you skin. Stomach churning.

There seemed to be a direct line of online hate funnelled your way and at first you promised Lando you could stomach it, until you couldn’t. It didn’t take long until reality seeped in, cold and harsh, tarnishing something that was so beautiful. It wasn't labelled but it could be in time, if his life was different – if he was a different person. 

Lando could feel you slipping away so he tried to bring you into his weird and wonderful world, to show you that it wasn’t so scary. But the more he introduced you to his "racing friends" and explained what a "paddock walk" was, the further you retreated and you knew a line needed to be drawn in the sand. Before it was too late.

Before it was too hard to let him go. 

It was callous in retrospect – a handwritten note left on his kitchen counter and slipping into an uber to Nice in the dead of the night. Cruel, really but necessary, you lied to yourself. Lando wanted to be surprised, he did. But everything you had written was true, he knew deep down that his life was fucking stressful, he didn't need reminding or how harsh people could be about the women involved with him and if it were anyone else, he would've slipped the letter in the rubbish bin and moved on.

But you were worth fighting for. And so here he was, on your doorstep in Shoreditch at 11pm on a Tuesday. It’s a wonder you answered the door but maybe there was a part of you that hoped it was him. Glassy eyed and dishevelled from the flight.

“I got your voicemails, I know where you stand but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Why didn’t you call me back?” Lando asked, the crease in his brow permanently furrowed in confusion.

“Because everything I needed to say was in the letter.” 

“What? This letter?” He scoffed, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out the piece of paper he had been carrying since the day you left. Battered and torn. 

“All this tells me is that you’re scared to let me in and fine! I get that but if theres even a tiny part of you that wants me –wants us to try and make it work, then tell me because I want this…” Lando stepped forward, making his intentions clear.

“I want you.” 

“It’s not that simple,” You sighed, hands instinctively reaching for him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you both inside. 

You wanted him more than anything.

“I know it’s not, baby,” He whispered back while you pushed the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, “But we’re so good together… God, you’re beautiful.” 

Lando took a second to bathe in your beauty before tangling you in a fierce kiss, one that had you clutching his shirt even harder, dragging his pliant body towards your bedroom. He knew the way – every wall you came into contact with bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your bed, needy kisses between sharp inhales of breath. 

“I missed you so much, Lan.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you more.” Lando whimpered as he hovered above and nestled himself between your thighs, hands roaming every inch of skin presented to him. 

The need to have him was bubbling over as you took him in your hand and guided him to where you needed, eyes squeezed shut as he fell forward, trembling arms holding up his aching body, “That’s so fucking good, baby – ugh, so tight f’me.”

You moaned in response as Lando slowly rocked forward, grappling with the surge of pleasure rushing to your core and the relief washing from your limbs. He was your missing puzzle piece and everything else was background noise, dulled when you had him like this – whimpering and moaning sweet nothings in your ear. Silver chains tangled between you as he pressed his greedy lips to your chest, leaving small bites as a reminder of his adoration and desire. 

“I need you, you know?” Lando purred into your ear as you held him close, fingers sprawled across his perspiring back as he fucked you deep, “These last couple of weeks have been hell without you… hated waking up alone and not having you beside me… not being able to hear your voice… I'm down so fucking bad.” 

His soft voice was breaking as the first droplets fell to your neck, “I know what it’s like now to lose you and I won’t ever take you for granted, I swear on my life…” 

Lando's sobs were quick to wrack his chest as you pulled him down, taking his full body weight in your embrace. He couldn't help but succumb to the emotions that had bottled up and finally spilled, every single worry dissipating as you held him close and soothed his tears with a soft hum. 

“Hey, it’s okay, baby – I’m here…” You cooed, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls and trying your hardest to keep it together. But you could feel the welling in your eyes, heartbroken for the man in your arms and the pain you had caused, no matter how much you believed you had done the right thing at the time.

“I know you’ve been dealing with so much and I never wanted to walk away – I just… I didn’t know what to do because I could feel myself falling for you but what I was too stupid to realise was that I was already in love with you – I think I have been since the moment we met…” 

Lando craned his neck, just enough to catch a glimpse of your beautiful eyes boring into his own – sincerity in every fleck. A small smile stretched across his face as he rested his forehead on yours, “I’m in love with you too. Have been since day one.” 

The smiles on your faces couldn’t have been any wider as Lando pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your pouting lips. You couldn’t help but giggle as he nuzzled into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss on your sensitive skin.

“You loooove me,” He sang, tickling your ribs with his eager hands before flipping onto his back and pulling you on top.  

“Oh, so I’m finishing us off, am I?”

“Yeah, I’m tired from the crying,” He shrugged and clutched your hips, playfully rutting them against his own. The moan that fell from your throat betrayed your mind, body and soul and Lando simply smirked, forever pleased with the effect he had on you. 

“If you weren’t so sexy I would leave you like this,” You teased back, rolling back and forth, edging both of you like a woman on a mission. 

“Please don’t ever leave me again,” Lando moaned, gripping tighter with every tantalising movement.

You shook your head and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

a/n – did i keep it under 1k words? of course not lol but hope you enjoyed x more f1 writing awaits ...

[system-positivity]

hope not too many people are hating on you for having endos be your dni, you really shouldnt have to explain your own boundaries. it's really not that hard to respect other people, i hope youre doing okay tho !!

Anon, you have no idea how hard I work at deleting and blocking pro endos from sending me horrendous asks and shit takes in my replies. Out here playing DODGEBALL every single day.

I've been taking care of my partner system, and I'm doing well :]

[system-community-corner]

I JUST WANT AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS PLEASE I RUN AN ANTI ENDO BLOG AND IVE GOTTEN CONFLICTING STATEMENTS ABOUT SAS ARE THEY ANTI ENDO OR PRO ENDO?? NOBODY SEEMS TO AGREE PLEASE SEND HELP I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHETHER TO BLOCK THEM OR NOT /SRS

I'm unable to help with that. Due to the increase of people sending my system gore via ask box links, as well as other triggering stuff, there is no way I am going to click that. (I urge others not to do the same, too. Even if it isn't gore, there's a real possibility it could be harmful in other ways.) I hope you're able to get help with your questions eventually!

I'm. Also going to take the time with this ask to state a few things.

If you are going to send links, paste them in full. Otherwise, your ask will likely be deleted, and you will likely be blocked.

I am not joking - this is the only ask that I will answer that has a link shared like this going forward. I am not taking my chances anymore.

This is nothing against the asker. It's just one too many bad experiences leading to extreme caution.

[violettwrites]

jealousy, jealousy 🏹 daryl dixon

summary: daryl noticed you growing closer to another member of the group and becomes increasingly jealous as days go by. when you finally confront him, it leads to confessions of feelings that had been pushed down.

author’s note: hi guys !! this is just something that i vaguely wrote at work until i had time to edit it 🥲 it’s been sitting in my drafts for days now but i hope you enjoy !

don’t forget to like, reblog, leave a comment, or give me a follow ! i appreciate the support 🫶🏻

as always, my ask box is open for requests x

warnings: angst ?? vulnerable!jealous!daryl

word count: 1,295

— — —

life in the apocalypse had turned into a ( somewhat ) steady rhythm of survival, yet often overtaken with moments of fear, exhaustion, and fleeting happiness. you’d always felt fortunate enough to be apart of such a strong group— strangers that had turned into close friends and family. and as the days blurred together with long hours on the road to find a new place to call home, you had found yourself spending more time with glenn. he was easy to talk to; wise, a good listener, and had a calm presence that made the chaos of the world a little easier to handle.

but daryl noticed.

he noticed every laugh, every smile you shared with glenn. at first, he tried to shrug it off. of course you’d get along with glenn; he was a great guy, trustworthy. but the more he watched the two of you, the more he felt the knot twist in his chest, a feeling he wasn’t familiar with at all.

jealousy.

he’d never been the kind of guy to voice his emotions like that, never been the one to let himself care too much. especially in a world like this, when you could be ripped away from him in seconds. caring got people hurt, and in this world, there was no room for distractions. but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter, it did. and everytime he saw you with glenn, it became harder to ignore.

days passed, and his usual gruffness turned colder, his responses to you were shorter. you had noticed the shift in his energy towards you— the way he had become distant, pretty much avoiding you completely. confusion clouded your mind as you wonder where it had gone wrong. daryl had always been protective over you, but this was different. he was pulling away from you, and you had no idea why.

after a long day of clearing out walkers from the gates of the prison the group had decided to make their new home, you found daryl sitting alone on the rooftop of the prison lookout tower, sharpening his knife. the moonlight illuminated his face, highlighting his tensed jaw. taking a deep breath, you stepped closer towards him.

“daryl,” you spoke softly, careful to not spook the male.

he didn’t look up. he continued to work on his knife, the scraping of metal filling the silence between the two of you.

“daryl.” you repeated, your words a little more sterner as you stepped towards him, minimising the space between the both of you. “what’s wrong? why are you ignoring me?”

daryl paused, his hands stalling their moment before he finally looked up, blue eyes glimmering from the moonlight. “nothin’,” he muttered, but the edge in his voice betrayed him.

you crossed your arms over you chest, brows furrowed in confusion and a little bit of frustration. “it’s not nothing. you’ve been acting weird to me for days now, and i don’t know why. what did i do?”

the brunette male scoffed, shaking his head as he stood up, sliding his knife into its holder on his belt. “ain’t about what ya did,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

“then what’s this about?” you pressed, blocking his path by stepping in front of him as he tried to walk around you. “talk to me daryl, please.” you had always been much better at confrontation than he had, and it was something he admired about you. the way you got straight to the point, instead of avoiding it all together like he did.

daryl stopped when you had stepped in front of him, his shoulders tensing. there was a long silence before he finally let out a breath, frustration and… something else flickering over his features.

“yer gettin’ real close to glenn,” he said, his voice low. almost a growl. “real close.”

you furrowed your brow in confusion, taken aback by his words. “glenn? what does he have to do with anything?”

daryl huffed, running a hand through his hair. “ya don’t see it, do ya? e’ry time i turn ‘round, yer with him. laughin’, talkin’— it’s like ya don’t even see me anymore.”

your heart skipped a beat as the realisation of his mood change set in. “wait.. are you.. jealous?”

he looked away, clenching his jaw, annoyed you had somehow caught on so quickly to his shitty mood. “ain’t about bein’ jealous. just.. i dunno.. you and him? feels like ya don’t need me around anymore.”

“daryl,” you sighed softly, stepping closer to him. “glenn’s just a friend. i’m not interested in him like that— plus he’s got the hots for maggie.” you raised a brow at him, eyes locked on to his as you gaged his reaction.

“then wha’ about me?” his eyes held your gaze, uncertainty written across his face. the question hung in the air, heavy with all the things that had been left unsaid for so long. your breath caught in your throat as you realised this was the moment. the moment to either push forward, or walk away.

“daryl,” you whispered his name again, taking a step closer to him. “i’ve always needed you around, and i always will. more than anyone else.” you watched the lump in his throat as he swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. and when he didn’t find any, he copied you, stepping closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies.

“thought.. thought maybe ya didn’t feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice strong with vulnerability.

you reached out for him, hand pressing gently against his bicep. “i’ve always felt this way about you, daryl. i just didn’t think— i didn’t think you wanted that.”

a low breath escaped him, and he closed his eyes for a moment as if he was trying to steady himself. when he opened them again, there was a softness there that you hadn’t really seen before. a tenderness that made your heart ache. “been tryin’ to push it down,” he said. “didn’t think i had the right.. not in this world.”

you shook your head, stepping even closer to him so you were inches apart. “you have every right, daryl. we both do. the world might be broken, but we’re still here. we’re still allowed to feel.”

his hand slowly lifted, hesitating for a moment before he cupped your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the skin of your cheekbone. you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand causing your heart to pound against your chest.

“dunno how to do this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you don’t have to know,” you replied, your own voice quiet. “we’ll figure it out together.”

for a moment, everything else fell away— the dangers, the fear, the uncertainty of tomorrow. all that mattered was the way daryl was looking at you. the way his thumb continued to stroke the skin of your cheek, grounding you in this moment.

slowly, he leaned down, his forehead resting against your own. his breath was warm across your face, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. like everything might actually be okay.

“i’m here,” you whispered, your hands gently resting on his chest. “i’m not going anywhere.” and with that, the last of daryl dixon’s defences crumbled. he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you into him as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. you held him just as tightly, feeling the unspoken promises in his embrace.

in a world full of loss, you had found something worth holding onto. and for the first time, daryl allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to fight for.

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 0:

When Blake Fell in Love with You

Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

You heard the other students chant over and over that there was a fight, and judging by the "Ooohs!" and "Oh shit!", you could tell that someone was getting their butt kicked.

You didn't want to be associated with any of that stuff, so you did your best to steer clear of any drama.

You were only in fifth grade, but you were pretty wise in a certain retrospect in that you did not want to be involved in any sort if unnecessary drama that would add stress to your life. In fact, this was so prominent in your attitude that you were deemed to be a bit anti-social (shy was more apt).

However, since the crowd of chanting students was in the same direction that you had to take in order to get home, you were forced to walk towards the commotion despite your apprehension.

The closer you got, the more you could see the fight that was going on.

One guy had another pinned to the ground, and the one on top was wailing on the other one with both fists. The sounds of flesh against flesh banged out, and you cringed at the onslaught you witnessed.

"Teacher!" a random kid shouted out, pointing towards the school where one of the fourth grade teachers poked her head out to scream at the crowd to disperse.

Everyone scattered, leaving the one kid who'd been wailed on in the dust.

He stayed on the ground, coughing a little bit as he tried to catch his breath.

You didn't move from your spot, ignoring everyone else as they ran off, leaving just you and the apparent loser of the fight.

A part of you said that it wasn't your responsibility, that you should've just walked home and tried your best to pretend that you didn't see anything at all.

But your conscience told you otherwise.

Swallowing your nerves, you called out, "H-hey!"

The guy remained still on the ground.

You didn't have a phone yet (thanks Mom and Dad), so you couldn't call 911. Therefore, you rushed forward and up to the other guy, your eyes widening at what you saw.

You didn't recognize him. He must've been in a different grade, maybe older because he seemed really big and tall (even from his lying position). His cheek was bruised up and his right eye was swollen shut. He had a cut on his arm that was bleeding a little bit-- not too bad, but enough to where it might ruin his leather jacket.

"Are you okay?" you asked, immediately feeling stupid because he obviously wasn't.

"...yeah," the guy grunted, turning his head away from you, blushing a little bit.

You bit down on your lower lip, not knowing what you could say to help out the random dude who'd gotten his butt kicked. Therefore, you did the only thing that you could think of.

"Um," you mumbled, "um, I have a band-aid...?" You cringed a little, but still dug through your backpack for a band-aid to give him. Your mom made you carry a box with you to school since you were pretty clumsy and always seemed to manage to fall down and skin your knee, hence your box of Hello Kitty Band-Aids.

You pulled out a band-aid with Pompompurin and peeled off the back, carefully sticking it to the guy's cut arm. Out of instinct, you bent down and pressed your lips to it, giving it a little kiss like what your mom does to all of your ouchies.

You froze, having no idea why you'd done that.

"Uhh..." you mumbled. "I hope you feel better!"

Thinking quickly, you shot up to your feet and sprinted away as quickly as you could, scurrying in the direction of your house.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

As Blake watched you run off, he looked down at the band-aid on his arm that had some random cartoon character on it.

He snorted and was about to pull it off, but then froze.

His skin still tingled from where you'd kissed him and simply thinking about it made his heart flutter in his chest and his breath get all ragged.

He recognized you from school, recalling how you'd typically keep to yourself and how you were a Grade A nerd.

...and how cute you are.

That'd been it initially-- Blake had thought that you were sorta cute, not paying too much attention otherwise.

But as he watched you run off, he couldn't help but stare in wonder.

Why had you helped him?

Why did you care?

And, ultimately, why weren't you his yet?

"They'll be mine," Blake promised himself. "Sooner or later, I'll make them mine."

He smiled as looked down at the Band-Aid you'd given him and placed his hand over where you'd kissed him, smiling to himself.

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

From then on, Blake made it his mission to make sure that you were protected at all costs.

He heard someone talking shit about you or thinking about messing with you?

He kicked their ass.

He heard someone say something negative about you?

He kicked their ass.

Someone cut you in line during lunch?

He kicked their ass.

Someone was wanting to ask you out on a date?

He kicked their ass.

Just that simple act of kindness that you showed the school bully had him wrapped around your finger. You didn't know it, but he was one-hundred percent devoted to you.

He walked you to and from school everyday, making sure to keep a little bit of distance in between the two of you. He knew that you were shy and that you didn't want to be involved in any sort of drama.

Plus, Blake wasn't delusional. He knew that he had an extremely negative reputation surrounding him, and he didn't want to drag you down with him. Everyone looked at him with fear in their eyes, and if you were associated with him, then he'd inadvertently ruin whatever reputation you'd built up.

In his mind, you're an angel, and he didn't want to taint you.

Hence, he kept his distance and made sure to admire you from afar.

But still, if anyone were to ask, Blake would say that you're his. He loves you after all, more than anything in the world.

And he promised himself that eventually he'd confess to you... all he needed was something to push him to do so...

[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gloomwitchwrites]

For Long Distance Fun - John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, mutual masturbation, gift giving, sex toys, oral sex (male & female receiving), vibrator, swearing

Word Count: 820

A/N: For Kinkmas 2024 (Mutual Masturbation)

For Christmas, John bought the two of you a new sex toy. He wants to try it out.

ao3 // main masterlist // kinkmas 2024 masterlist

"What—" You laugh softly, and then glance up at John. "What is this?"

Inside the unwrapped gift is a pink and white box. The label is clear. There is no mistake or denial of what this is, but you’re startled by the gesture. This isn’t something you thought John was interested in.

“It’s for the both of us,” replies John. He shifts, scooting closer to you on the sofa. “Interested in trying it out?”

“Right now?” He nods. “Right here?” you continue, glancing around at your living room.

Gently taking the box from your lap, John transfers it to his.

Long Distance Relationship Sex Toy, says the box. The vibrator for the woman is called “Eve” and the male counterpart is called “Adam.”

“Why not,” shrugs John, removing the pink and white box from its packaging.

Breaking the seal, John delicately removes the toys and the instruction manual. The light on the Christmas tree sparkle against the plastic as he sets it aside.

“Thought we could use these when I’m away,” says John, opening up the user manual. “See here.” He points. “They connect to an app on our phones. We can use them simultaneously even if I’m on the other side of the world.”

John lifts the Adam toy. “I fuck this.” He then lifts the Eve toy. “And this fucks you.” He smirks. “We can play at the same time.”

“Across the world?” you ask, unbelieving.

“All I need is bluetooth and a couple bars of service, love.”

You shake your head. “You can’t take that on missions.”

John laughs. “Course not. You think I’m going to take this out during a firefight?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, teasing.

“Certainly would startle the enemy,” chuckles John. “But in all seriousness, it doesn’t have to be at the same time.”

“I don’t understand.”

John’s brow creases, and there is a mischievous hunger that wasn’t there before. “I can fuck this on my own time,” he replies, lifting the Adam toy. “Record the whole thing on the app. And then when you log in, you can have your toy vibrate along to what I recorded. Doesn’t have to be at the same time.”

With his free hand, John starts to undo the buttons on your pajama top, revealing skin. His hand slides inside, cupping one breast as his mouth presses to your throat. You groan at his touch.

“Want to have a go, love?” he murmurs against your throat.

His lips against your skin make you tingle—sending a little shiver down your back. Gently squeezing your breast, John’s hand descends to toy with the elastic of your pants.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your response breathy and wanton.

John’s hand slides under the elastic band and tugs. Shifting, he places the box on the sofa and goes down on his knees before you. With another tug, your pants are gone and John is draping your legs over his shoulder.

“Follow the instructions while I prep you, love.”

Heat instantly radiates up your neck and enflames your face. You grab your phone the moment John’s tongue touches your clit. It’s hard to concentrate as he tongues you. The words on the instruction manual are blurring together with every stroke.

“I—oh. John.” He hums against your pussy. “It’s done,” you gasp.

He draws back, lips glossy. Reaching behind him, John removes his shirt with one hand. As he stands, John shoves his pants down, the two of you falling onto the couch completely naked and entwined.

John reaches for his phone the second you take his dick in your hand. You’re aching for this, and getting to taste him for a bit is perfectly satisfying. As you throat him, John taps away at his phone. He’s hard, almost throbbing in your mouth by the time he’s drawing your head back.

“Come here,” he growls. You ascend, draping yourself over him. “Open your legs, love. Just like that.” Holding the Eve toy in his hand, he guides it to your pussy, pushing the head of the rabbit vibrator in.

“Take it,” he rasps, and you grab on to the handle. John takes up the Adam toy, easing his dick in. “Ready, love?”

You nod and John thrusts.

The rabbit vibrator moves inside you, and you cry out immediately at the shock of sensation.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that,” he groans against your cheek, hips thrusting into the toy. “Fuck. I can feel you.”

You whimper, walls clenching around the vibrator as it buzzes along with John’s movements. It’s almost too much too fast. John’s grunts aren’t helping nor is his heat. Turning your face into his chest, you cry out his name, the orgasm rising fast, extending outward until it’s all you can focus on.

It’s unending rocket fuel that’s sending you up to the stars.

“I can fucking feel you,” he says again, this time groaning loudly, indicating his own end.

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