#fireflygraphics

[holylulusworld]

I love these. Beautiful colors.

Autumn Fall Dividers

Please like and reblog if you use or save.

Dividers List

[milky-aeons]

— HE’S MINE

౨ৎ . . . general CHUUYA NAKAHARA was a name that instilled terror into even the most seasoned underground criminals. but to you, he was simply your man.

warnings: swearing, criminal themes, pet-names, w.c 1.6k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ he's mine — mahalia ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍. . .

Chuuya Nakahara was not immune to the pleasures being one of the five Port Mafia Executives brought him. Oftentimes, he was in attendance at the lavish cabaret clubs downtown, if only to entertain a criminal boss the organisation sought business with. He appreciated beauty. He'd enjoy the heated looks, the coyness, as he flirted with many women — and, sometimes, booked a hotel room just for two.

But that was where they had ended; tristes, nights of pleasure, never to happen again. Chuuya was, at first, against the idea of getting involved in a permanent relationship. His life was drenched in danger, his hands bloodied, his friends few and far between. Any woman who affiliated themselves with him would share the target that was constantly nailed into his back. They would need to know that some nights, he wouldn't come home. That he couldn't answer every call. In his eyes, Chuuya Nakahara was confident he would be the absolute shitiest of the shit when it came to being a boyfriend, and refused to put any woman through that type of hell.

That was, of course, until he fell in love. With you.

It was a constant push and pull with his feelings for you, in the beginning. But the longer he decided to neglect them, the larger they became, ballooning into an avalanche until he was knee deep in it. In so many ways, you were beautiful. You had an infectious smile, you had strong morals you abided and lived by. You were kind and caring and loyal — but above everything else, you accepted him for who he was. You didn't try to change him. Instead, you stood by his side, you took that hand he always kept hidden by a leather glove, and said;

"You have me, Chuuya. I'm not going anywhere. Forever and always, I am yours, and you are mine."

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘. . .

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who threw his entire heart and soul into his job. Being a Port Mafia Executive on top of a militant General would wear down even a soul crafted from steel. You could always tell when your mafioso lover had been pushing himself too hard; his shoulders would sit high and tense, he'd have permanent stress lines on his forehead just above bunched eyebrows. In those moments, you would guide him to the nearest chair and instruct him to sit down. You would work your fingers into his tight muscles until they softened and released, only to let your fingers dance up to his temples, rubbing soothing circles.

"Got a meeting to get to in 10, princess." He'd drawl, yet his eyes would slip closed, he'd sigh in a way that deflated his entire body when you began to massage his forehead. You'd smile, whispering, "Then make it 20."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who sometimes became cross with him whenever Chuuya took you shopping. He was forever spoiling you, would always insist on paying for the meal, the dress you were looking at for a little too long in the storefront window, the fourteen karat gold necklace sitting on some model in a glossy magazine. And when you went clothes shopping — you'd tease him, telling him that he never, ever helped in the dressing rooms, whatsoever.

"What about this one?" "Beautiful, sweetheart." "Okay — this one? I think it sits on me a little weird." "You look gorgeous." "And this one?" "The prettiest girl I've ever seen." "You are absolutely no help at all." "What do ya mean? It's not my fault you look damn good in everything."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who had many long and trying missions, yet no matter the length of time he would be gone for, would always find a way to tell you he was thinking of you. Sometimes, it would be in the form of little letters delivered by his rookie underlings to your apartment door. Others; surprise text messages, a two minute phone call in the middle of a gunfight, an extravagant take-out meal brought to your doorstep when you've had a particularly bad day. But your favourite had always been the evening when he brought you flowers. Not just any flowers — but a luscious bouquet of roses he had lifted right to your bedroom window through the action of his ability.

"You're unbelievable!" You shouted down to him, barely able to hold the massive bundle when he released the gravitational hold on them. Chuuya smirked up at you. "And I missed ya, too."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who oftentimes, booked entire days off just so he could spend them with you. He was a dignified workaholic, that was certain, but he would always make sure to clear the books for you. On those days, he was at your mercy — you were free to do anything your heart desired, and he would not protest. He would take you to see that awful romcom your friends had been raving about, he would curl up on your couch and let you pet his wildfire hair, he'd take you walking along the skyline if you so wished. For on those days, Chuuya was not a brutal mafia general so used to death and destruction. He was just a man, he was yours.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who loved when Chuuya brought you with him on those long night-time motorcycle rides. The city of Yokohama never slept. It was always humming with life, just like the engine as it purred throughout the city. You would wrap your arms around his slim waist and bury into his back, relishing in the strength he housed. His comforting scent of cigarettes and leather and expensive fougere.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who adored music. Who always had something playing whenever you would spend time in his mafia lodging. When he would unscrew a precious bottle of wine from his prized stash and pour you a glass, he'd murmur the words to whatever track it was. He knew them all. And oftentimes, after a drink or two, he'd drag you to your feet and waltz around the room, holding you impossibly close. Until your ears swam with dizziness and your chest hurt from laughing. Until the sun dipped low beyond the horizon of Yokohama and you both danced the night away.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀, who took quite some time to unveil that vulnerable side to you. It was instinct really, for him to mask any of his insecurities and doubts — weaknesses for his dangerous enemies to exploit. His heart took time to learn that you were not one of those enemies. And like a hesitant flower, it opened for you, piece by piece. The feared General would bury into your chest and let you hold him when nightmares kept sleep at bay. He'd ask you to stay when he wasn't ready for you to go, yet. Word by word, he'd divulge some of the deepest fears he held in his heart concerning you — covering his face, spitting them out, like they left a vile taste in his mouth.

"I just — I can't stop thinking about it. The shit those motherfuckers would do to you if they knew — if they knew how much you mean to me. Fuck — Fuck, I don't know what I'd do. If I'd even be a human being after it, princess, I'd — I'd—!" In those moments, you came rushing forward, you clutched his head into your embrace to steady him. Let him breathe you in, feel the air moving in your lungs and blood pumping from your heart. "Shh, shh, Chuuya. It's okay. They'll never get me. I promise. I'll make sure of it."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who made a pledge to accept your boyfriend for who he was. To know that within that stout build housed a terrifying god of destruction. And you, who was always there for him when he tapped into that power and used Corruption. In the days following those instances, you would never dare leave his side. You would watch his chest rise and fall, rise and fall, as he slept for hours at a time. Dabbed at his sweating face, brought bowls of nourishing broth and fed him one spoonful at a time until he gathered his strength back. Lucidity would drift back to him like that of a tidal wave. And in those moments, he'd focus his heart-breaking blue eyes on you. He'd quirk a tired grin and croak;

"You really... keep savin' my ass, ya know that? I'm such a fuckin' mess, baby, I'm sorry."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would smile, who would hold back the emotional rush behind your glassy eyes and say;

"You're not a mess, Chuuya. You're beautiful. You're the light of my life. Now, hush, get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

requested by lovely [ nonnie! ]

[egoioist]

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒 jungeun's relationships with, nct dream

── ⟢ main masterlist ⭑.ᐟ ⟢ jungeun's masterlist ꪆৎ

── ⟢ MARK⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ loser ・ mark

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ mark + jungeun › jungmark

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : markie ^_^ ⸝⸝ hers : child #1 👧🏻

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about jungmark ꪆৎ

with mark being the oldest, he's pretty much watched jungeun grow up. he often finds it endearing and a little sad, but his way to forget how much she's grown is to put her name as "child #1" (jisung being #2)

in any interview or situation where jungeun gets directly ostracized, or a inappropriate or sensitive topic gets brought up, mark is always the first to say something about how maybe that's not the best thing to ask and they'd rather move onto the next question

mark is always looking out for jungeun, and she resiprocates the same energy as well. she didn't do it at first, but once she got more comfortable with mark (and after he started teaching her some english) she would repeat the same things he'd say to her and he found it the funniest (but cutest) thing ever. "how're you doing mark?", "what's up mark!", "you good?", "thank you for teaching me english (.◜◡◝)".

── ⟢ RENJUN⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ fools ・ troye sivan

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ renjun + jungeun › junren

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : renie 💛 ⸝⸝ hers : jungie 🌸

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about junren ꪆৎ

THE twins. when jungeun first met renjun when he joined sm in 2015 she honestly was sad at the thought that she wouldn't debut with him before she knew she was in nct

whenever jungeun is experiencing high anxiety, renjun knows how to help and how relieve her stress. because he's dealt with it before, he always tells her to let him know if she's having a hard time and he will be there

just like renjun helps jungeun when she's struggling, she did the same for renjun during dream()scape era when he was getting hate comments constantly, she was there to tell him nothing that the haters were saying was true.

through thick and thin these two can understand each other's feelings very well, and because of that it's also helped them whenever the full group has a serious argument, the two of them alone can help alleviate the situation.

── ⟢ JENO⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ supernatural ・ ariana grande

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ jeno + jungeun › juno

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : nono 🙂‍↕️ ⸝⸝ hers : juju 🙂‍↔️

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about juno ꪆৎ

gosh, these two... they are the textbook definition of best friends. they do so many things together that they forget one thing they've already done just to accidentally do it again

jeno (somehow) makes jungeun more confident, she mentioned in a "7llin' in the dream" episode that jeno was the one who really got her interested in the gym and that whenever he shows his abs she suddenly feels confident too as well (unfortunately many fans have taken this out of context)

their duo name, juno, came from their names but also came from their nicknames for each other being "nono" and "juju".

── ⟢ HAECHAN⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ aeao ・ dynamic duo

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ haechan + jungeun › haejung

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : haech 🧸 ⸝⸝ hers : jungeunie 🐣

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about haejung ꪆৎ

these two are honestly inseparable. very much so that they went through a period of time where they would talk to each other through BUBBLE when their messages weren't working

the evil duo, they always are up to something mischevious whether it be pranking the members or just pestering them

their main inside joke is that they're twins because a non-fan once said that they wholeheartedly believed they were twins, and they thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

── ⟢ JAEMIN⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ pink matter ・ frank ocean, andré 3000

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ jaemin + jungeun › jungmin

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : jaem <3 ⸝⸝ hers : wife <3

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about jungmin ꪆৎ

jaemin was jungeun's closest friend as a trainee, and it shows by the way they interact now. always being the closest members of nct dream and all the fans knowing it, it was a bit of an obivous fact when rumors started going around about their relationship.

they just get each other, they understand each other's feelings so well that they can tell if the other is upset just by the way they type

not to say the dreamies aren't there for jungeun, because they are, but jaemin is always the #1 person to help her or comfort her. whenever jungeun antis are having a field day online and spewing death threats at her for the nth time, you bet jaemin is right with her and calming her down if needed

THE ideal idol couple, everyone wants to be them.

── ⟢ CHENLE⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ count on me ・ bruno mars

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ chenle + jungeun › chenjung

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : daegal's dad 🐩 ⸝⸝ hers : miso's mother 🐕

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about chenjung ꪆৎ

both chenle and jungeun have dogs, daegal and miso. due to this, they call each other their respective dog's parents. chenle is miso's dad and jungeun is daegal's mom.

you'd have to be blind to miss the millions of side eyes these two give each other every day, their sassyness combined could kill a caveman on the spot

despite both being extremely sassy to each other, they get along very well when not bickering. their favorite things to do together is take daegal and miso for walks, play video games, and chenle enjoys decorating things with jungeun as her hobby.

── ⟢ JISUNG⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. ♬ ܁˖ now playing ⟡ puzzle piece ・ nct dream

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ jisung + jungeun › jijung

⠀⠀⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ contacts... ⸝⸝ his : jiji 🐛 ⸝⸝ hers : sunbaenim 🫡

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ about jijung ꪆৎ

with the both of them being the babies in not only nct but also the babies of sm (at one point), they've grown as close as siblings

90% of the time the other members will walk in on them arguing, most times it's not even genuine arguing they're just arguing for fun

in a episode of "7llin' in the dream", jisung mentioned how they used to hug before every performance and cheer each other up because of their nerves

if you didn't know these two, you'd probably assume they were biological siblings. and surprisingly they aren't. they have so much love and care for each other like genuine siblings.

©️egoioist

[kweenhazbin]

Marquie | 28 | masterlist (maybe coming soon idk)

[writermuses]

About Afet "Eris" Fischer

Age: 35

FC: Tuvana Türkay

Fears: Losing family/friends in some way out of her control

Height: 5'9

Role model(s): Jill Biden and Julia Gillard

Things they hate: The patriarchy

They will love you if... your idea of a good time is taking an unplanned motorcycle road trip and making good trouble along the way.

Favorite film(s): Mad Max: Fury Road, Erin Brockovich, Mulan

Favorite tv show(s): Kath & Kim, Golden Girls, Designated Survivor

Biography coming soon...

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

Part 2

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hello I hope you've been sleeping and eating well, may I request this? Whitebeard Pirates x Inosuke reader like he was the smallest and youngest among them, he gets into a lot of trouble

Inosuke was raised by boars his life and he has little to no human contact

Inosuke is influenced more and more by the Whitebeard pirates ways ways and becomes more accustomed to affection and generosity, learning to also acknowledge the strength of people besides himself and develop feelings of friendship towards the Whitebeard pirates , although he does still retain his proud nature and constant want for praise. He also begins to think more strategically when engaging in combat, using smarter tactics he has picked up from more experienced Demon Slayers and not just rushing into fights head-on without thinking, he goes mad when anyone tries to hurt his family, though despite being a troublemaker he can be shy and quiet whenever it comes to new things like Inosuke would hold Marco sleeve and watch in awe as a parade was happening

So how would the Whitebeard pirates react seeing their youngest and smallest crewmate being quiet for the first time like someone made a comment like "I wonder why would they allow a troublemaker boar into their crew?" And Inosuke started wondering that too and started being quiet as the Whitebeard pirates were behind him glaring at the bastard who made their youngest upset

Doubtful affections ( Whitebeard pirates x m!reader)

I don’t know how to feel about this one yall I really liked it at the beginning but then it was eh maybe I tried to hard using different characters I think that lowkey ruined it but nevertheless here we are I am proud that I finished dit today though! :)

Personification of Fossa was heavily inspired by @hannahbarberra162 ‘s own take on the character :)

Reader here has been replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika and @/fireflygraphics

“Why does it have to be boars anyway? We haven’t had sparrows in a while, and they are here by the plenty,” Ace whined as he followed after his brother.

“Cos’ the sparrows are here to control the caterpillar population, the villagers recently managed to get it under control and save their crops; boars are killin’ off their livestock,” Thatch huffed out, venturing further into the forest and away from the grasslands the village had made a home in

“We can get some good meat, and they will trade us materials if we help hunt them down; it’s a win-win for both sides.”

Ace let out a hum in response, looking further into the forest and placing an arm out to halt Thatch, gesturing for him to be quiet and lower himself on the ground.

Thatch is quick to understand the reasoning behind his actions as not far from there was a large sounder grazing on the wild vegetation. Letting out a smile as he unsheathed his knife and edged closer to them

“We goin’ to eat good tonight,” he grinned, stalking closer to the boars, knife raised and ready to strike; the opportunity ended as elated for the hunt he had failed to notice the foliage beneath his feet, cringing at the loud crinkling sound that quickly alerted the sounder.

“Ha...Howdy”

“Good going, Thatch,” Ace sarcastically called after they had managed to fend off the angry mothers that had charged at them the minute they realized someone had gotten too close to them and their piglets.

“Quit yer Hollerin; it ain’t matter how it got done. What matters is we got the meat,” he called, rolling his eyes and taking a glance at a nearby bush for a moment, his attention going back to the gathering of their hunt.

“Make yer’self useful and take care of the last one, think might be anotha piglet.”

“Aye, Aye, Captain,”” he called dismissively, igniting one of his hands as he approached the bush.

“Come here, piggy, piggy, come....here? Thatch you might want to take a look at this:”

“What is it? Oh.” The two men gawked at the sight in front of them; perhaps if they were not as worried at the fact that in front of them sat a toddler alone in the middle of the woods, they would have found it amusing at the mannerisms it showed as it let out what they guessed were small growls and charges towards them, a mask just as small as he was decorating his head.

Ace grinned gingerly. He picked up the aggressive child and boosted him up in the air for a few seconds. A laugh escaped him as the boy started giggling, his small hands trying to reach the man.

“Ya ain’t a boar, ain’tcha? What are ya doin’ all alone here?”” Thatch questioned, looking up at the giggling boy

“You don’t think he was being raised by one of the boars, do you?” Ace mulled lowering the toddler onto his hip, occasionally bouncing him

“Don’ see any other way he coulda survive alone out here” he mumbled, slipping off the boy’s mask to take a peak at his features.

“Well, it doesn’t matter cause he’s coming with us”” Ace laughed, but it was cut short as the child sank his teeth into his torso, gaining a hiss from the man.

“He’s gonna give Marco a run for his money.”” Thatch grinned, finding humor in his brother’s glowering

Thatch was definitely not wrong when he spoke those words as Marco stood in front of the child watching at his latest achievement; he had made a mistake in giving his back to a child who had been raised in the wild, and what did this cost him? A clinical bed, as the current one was now trashed, with small claw and bite marks littering it, springs and stuffing exposed to the frigid air of the room

Marco let out a sigh at the sight

“Alright, let’s set things straight; you do not destroy things,” Marco called, stopping the child from digging his teeth into the bed once again. He placed him on his lap, facing him, and held him as he struggled to get away from him and attack him.

“We can do this all day,”” he stated, looking down at the boy, who eventually stopped trying to headbutt his way out and began pointing to the bed.

“Don’t destroy my clinic,” he called sternly. He complied with his silent request and placed the child on the bed, watching him for a while to see if he would repeat her actions. He nodded when he didn’t and simply sat there staring at him. He then began assessing the child, taking all measurements, and, much to his displeasure, vaccinating him.

“There we go, you did great. Now I think it’s time you meet the rest of your brothers. Pops is waiting too.” he called, lowering the boy to the ground, his eyes softening as he gingerly took hold of his sleeve as they left the clinic, slowly walking closer to the deck, the rowdiness of the crowd getting louder and louder the closer they got

“You have improved greatly, Dokucha,” Vista applauded as he approached the small boy after he had successfully beaten his opponents under his brother’s watch.

A now older Dokucha spun around to meet his brother grinning at him

“You think so, Vista-nii?!” He called excitedly as he pulled up his mask and sheathed his wakizashi. Even though six years had already gone by since the day he had been found in that forest among boars, the young boy had kept his signature mask, having to replace it every year to fit his growing body.

“Your agility with the wakizashi has increased. Your movements are much smoother than last time, and your stance has improved as well. You no longer stumble on your feet when you must spin to meet opponents behind you,” he complimented, mirroring the child’s wide smile.

“Of course, I did a good job! I am the best after all!” he boasted as he put his hands on his hips in a proud manner.

“Remember to not underestimate your opponent regardless of their skill, or it will be your downfall on the battlefield,” He said as he placed a hand on the child’s head.

“I won’t, Vista-nii, don’t worry!”

“Now then, I must finish some training with my unit before we depart. Are you able to stock up on some of our supplies? We need new whetstones and truingstones"

“Leave it to me, Vista-nii!”

“Atta boy! I will see you shortly!” He called as he walked away

“Alright! I Saw a blacksmith right around the corner!” Dokucha noted as he made his way into the local village

“Here it is,” he remarked as he made his way inside the store, easily finding the items he was searching for and making his payment. Waving off the store owner as he made his exit, stopping as he heard the shop owner begin to talk, he turned around to see what the owner needed, only to once again be stopped as another voice spoke up.

“Who was that dear?”

“It was one of the Whitebeard pirates; he came to refill some of their smithing supplies.

He knew he was quick to jump into action; he had greatly improved this in the last years as he was less prone to suddenly lash out and act out on impulse. Under his brother’s tutelage, he now analyzed the situation and thought of a solution before his body moved. Much to Marco’s surprise and pleasure, the small boy had shown a great ability to strategize, coming up with strategies and views that never failed to impress him, much to his pleasure.

“Oh, was it one of the commanders? I heard Vista was around.”

“No, it was the boy,”

“That small child that tags along with them? I heard he was up to no good.”

Nevertheless, since he was still a child, it was only normal that many mannerisms he gained during his first two years of life still prevailed, which his brothers and father welcomed as they had grown to be a part of him. This, however, was not the case with people outside his circle; he was not deaf to the people’s words, the whispers of judgment following everywhere he went. He usually never let this get to him as he knew better than to care for stranger's words, but today was not one of those times.

“I wonder why they even keep such a boy.”

“I know, right? If anything, he would be a liability. That crew comprises such strong people, and then there’s him.”

“Maybe they felt bad for the boy, heard he was raised by boars. Can you believe that?” he said with a small laugh.

“Boars?! HA! I'm sure they keep him for entertainment. Their days at sea are very long after all.”

“Oh! That must be it I'm sure they...

Dokucha turned around, not waiting to hear the rest of the conversation, as he made his way back to the ship

“Have any of you seen Dokucha?” Namur questioned as he entered the mess hall, looking around for said boy

“He asked me for swimming lessons, and then the little rascal didn’t show up,” he grumbled, making his way to the table where the rest of the commanders sat at

“I asked him to get some materials from me, but I haven’t seen him since then,” Vista piped up

“I saw him go to his room earlier. Has he not left since then? It’s been hours since then,” Jozu noted, sharing a few worried glances with his brothers

“I will go check in on him,” Izou stated as he made his out of the mess hall

“Dokucha, are you there?” Izou called as he knocked on the door to his room, frowning as he received no response

‘He’s a light sleeper, so there’s no way he didn’t hear my knocking,’ he thought as he took a bobby pin out of his hair and easily unlocked the door, his frown deepening as his eyes fell on the lump on the bed.

“Dokucha?” He called sitting down on the bed

“The door was closed for a reason, Izou-nii,” the child grumbled, his voice muffled by the bed sheets. Despite this, the roughness and scratchiness of the voice was not lost to Izou as he swiftly removed the covers from the boy and pulled him closer to him.

“I have told you that it is unbecoming to not look as someone when you speak,” he called, tightening his hold as Dokucha tried pushing him away.

“Just leave Izou-nii,” he growled.

“I will not leave until you tell me what has had you acting this way.”

“Why do you even care? I’m just a form of entertainment for you guys, so you don’t have to pretend anymore, so...just leave me alone!” he cried.

Shocked by his words, Izou is quick to release him, watching as he broke down in front of him.

“Who told you this?”

“So it’s true!” he wailed, his cries growing louder as he turned away until a delicate hand made his place under his chin and softly turned it back.

“Dokucha. I do not know where you have heard of this, but know that it could not be farther from the truth,” he softly spoke as he lifted his face.

“We care for you deeply; we were all so happy the day Ace and Thatch brought you aboard. Trust me, living in a ship surrounded by such barbarians can become tiring after a while.” He started gaining a small giggle from the child at his words

“But then there was you; you were the most delicate yet wildest thing I had seen,” he voiced with a small smile.

“It was quite a sight, having a toddler run around amock and causing experienced warriors to lose their minds over such a small thing,” he recalled with a smile.

“It’s concerning how quickly you became the most precious treasure that any of us have found. And that is why I would like to know how you ever thought you were simply a means for entertainment,” he finished, looking down at Dokucha.

The child, comforted by the words, threw himself into Izou's arms, sobs racking his small body.

“Was it because of something we said or did? Despite not being as uncivilized as some of them, I understand some of us can be a lot,” he spoke as he hugged the boy closer to him, rubbing his back to soothe his cries.

“No, it wasn’t you guys.”

“Then?”

Encouraged by his words, Dokusha told him of what he had heard in the shop earlier. After a while, his brother smiled at him and encouraged him to relax for a while as he and the others 'handled it.’

“Say Fossa-nii, why did everyone leave?” Dokucha wondered as he looked up at the stars that filled the sky

“They had something that needed ta be handled,” he huffed out as he lay beside the boy.

“What is it?”

“What with the damn questions?! Just shut up n’ go to sleep,” the man growled, only getting a small snicker in response.

“I love you, Fossa-nii!” he exclaimed, throwing himself towards said man, hugging him tightly.

“Tch, yer lucky m' in a good mood,” he grunted out.

"Hey, hey, did you sneak any out today?" the child whispered, looking up at him

"Ya better not tell that idiot about this," he grumbled as he pulled out a small pastry from his pocket, handing it to the boy.

"I won't! Cause then I won't get any treats after hours!" he exclaimed, munching on the pastry and ignoring the snickers escaping his brother.

Ahhhh im tired yall but I finally finished it. What are we thinking?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

[kayentokk]

“You came?”

“You called.”

The dialing tone is almost mocking you as it rings. You’re a brave woman, and by no means do you let anyone walk over you, so why do you get the constant urge to tell him whenever you feel less?

Is it because you know he’ll reassure you? Help you get back up with the simplest, “it’ll be okay.” is that why? To be honest, you don’t know the true answer. You know that what other people say doesn’t define you, and you could care less. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though, and sometimes you just need someone. 

It doesn’t ring for long, maybe three times or five maximum, because he picks up. He always answers your calls and texts, it might take him a minute if he’s a work but he prioritizes you. That feels nice.Maybe that’s another reason why you call, because that’s the only constant thing left in your life at this point, him caring. Well, what you would define as caring anyway. 

He always waits for you to speak first if you call him, no matter how long it takes for you to get your thoughts together into a coherent sentence. He’ll wait. 

There’s silence for about a minute before you speak up.

“…sorry, I-I don’t really know-“ you pause and exhale mentally telling yourself to get your shit together. He senses your frustration through the phone. 

“Take your time,” he says lowly.

With one more breath you begin again tears filling your lash line, “I um..” your voice cracks and his heart is literally ripped from his chest. So you just say it all while trying to keep from absolutely sobbing over the phone. You tell him about how the gas station didn’t have your favorite drink, how your coworkers were complete assholes, the higher-ups who never deny the accusations, and he listens. Truly listens. It feels nice. 

In the middle of you going on another rant your doorbell rings. “Sorry, hold on one second,” you say into your phone.

You weren’t expecting a visitor, and you definitely didn’t feel like keeping company right now. It also didn’t help that your eyes were probably puffy along with your tear stained cheeks.

When you open the door though, all those thoughts go away. 

He’s here. 

Before you can even close the door and hang up the phone, you’re engulfed in a warm, tight embrace. You breathe in his scent that floods through you and puts you at ease as his stolid abdomen presses into your face. 

“You came,” you stated not even sure if he could understand you through the fabric of his sweater and your quiet voice.

He didn’t even get to respond before you let it all go. You wail, and sob, and cry your eyes out. All the while his hold on you never falters. Even though your tears and snot have soaked through to his stomach and he can feel it, even though he’s kind of hunched over in order to keep his arms around you due the the height difference, and even though he’s tired and has probably had a rough day too, none of that matters. 

Eventually your cries slow into soft sniffles and hiccups. He pulls you out of his chest, earning a groan from you, to tilt your face upwards where he can see. Your cheeks are all squished up covering some of your vision, and he delicately places a kiss on your forehead. 

“You called.”

[Nanami, Hinata, Bakugo, Rengoku, Kiba, Geto, Ushijima, Shinso, Tanjiro, Shikamaru, your fave]

@/fireflygraphics for the divider

[finniestoncrane]

🩷🍿 Finnie's 2k Event Masterlist 🍿💚

masterlist of all showings at the cinema (updated soon)

🔞minors dni🔞 • main event post • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block) dividers used by @/fireflygraphics

🍿 "Now or Never" • Short Fic • Two Face 🍿 "Finders, Keepers" • Short Fic • Cooper Howard 🍿 Character Pairing • Catwoman 🍿 "Roleplaying" • Headcanons • Firefly 🍿 Character Pairing • Poison Ivy 🍿 "Possessive" • Short Fic • Two Face 🍿 "Well-Trained" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 "My Girl" • Short Fic • Black Mask 🍿 "Blush" • Short Fic • Black Mask 🍿 "Comforting" • Headcanons • Poison Ivy 🍿 "Only Natural" • Short Fic • Penguin 🍿 "Together" • Short Fic • Victor Zsasz 🍿 "Mine To Use" • Short Fic • Cooper Howard 🍿 "Need" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 "Ditto" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 Character Pairing • Penguin 🍿 "This Will Hurt Me" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 "Posessive" • Headcanons • Riddler 🍿 "The Grind" • Short Fic • Penguin 🍿 "Just A Fool" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 "Gentle Touch" • Short Fic • Captain Boomerang 🍿 "Caress" • Short Fic • Penguin 🍿 "Quick Break" • Short Fic • Nick 🍿 "Hungry" • Short Fic • Scriddler 🍿 "Rosy" • Short Fic • Riddler

🍿 "Double Feature" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 "Dark" • Short Fic • Victor Zsasz 🍿 Character Pairing • Scarecrow 🍿 Character Pairing • Music Meister 🍿 "Exorcise" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 Character Pairing • Harley Quinn 🍿 "Starlight" • Short Fic • Nick Valentine 🍿 "Hurt/Comfort" • Headcanons • Scarecrow 🍿 "Humiliation" • Headcanons • Riddler 🍿 Moodboard • Scarecrow 🍿 Character Pairing • Mary-Beth Gaskill 🍿 "Obedient" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 "Seated" • Short Fic • Mad Hatter 🍿 "A Bit European" • Short Fic • Penguin 🍿 "Crime and Punishment" • Short Fic • Harvey Bullock 🍿 "First Time" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 "Only Fear" • Short Fic • Scarecrow 🍿 "The Idea" • Short Fic • Cooper Howard 🍿 Character Pairing • Kent Connolly 🍿 "Softly, Softly" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 "Nerves" • Short Fic • Riddler 🍿 "Partner" • Short Fic • Arthur Morgan 🍿 "Voyeurism" • Headcanons • Mad Hatter 🍿 "My Hero" • Short Fic • Maximus 🍿 "Sharing Is Caring" • Short Fic • Cooper Howard

[holylulusworld]

Love these.

Flame Dividers

Please like and reblog if you use or save.

Dividers List

[milky-aeons]

— PRETTY, PRETTY BOY

౨ৎ . . . there was a saying in the port mafia; that amongst their ranks hid an angel in disguise, who, through simple words alone, could make any man bend to her mercy. nobody could really resist her blinding charm. her mafioso boyfriend, of course, was no exemption.

alternatively, you convince CHUUYA NAKAHARA to try on a maid's uniform. You like it a lot more than you thought.

warnings: criminal themes, swearing, female reader, slight manipulation, pet-names, suggestive content, w.c 1.9k

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄, at first. For your stout, temperamental mafioso lover was always such a pleasure to tease. He took everything so seriously, in that adorable, flustered way of his. Not many would think that the Chuuya Nakahara was so easy to work up. He commanded soldiers, legions; men were terrified of the underground General who was also a mortal master of gravity. Maybe it was a side to him he kept reserved just for you. That soft, cheeky side. The blush that always heated his ears to the colour of his hair whenever you decided to play with him.

"No fuckin' way."

You stood there in the bedroom you both shared — lavish and expensive, sitting on one of the highest floors of the Port Mafia's headquarters. He had already discarded his coat and hat, was busy scratching the crown of his head when you had put the question to him. Interrupting his yawn mid-way. Chuuya's eyebrows had scrunched, he'd shot you a disbelieving retort — the hell did you just say? Then, he caught sight of what was draped across your bent forearm.

His eyes had flickered from yours, to the dress, to yours, once more. When he asked you to say that again, that he didn't think he had heard you right, he had shut you down with that very blunt denial.

"Please?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes. "It's just a bit of fun. You'd look so adorable, Chuuya!"

"Hah?! No!" Chuuya snapped. He was like an angry kitten, his canines sharp and baring. "The fuck did you even get that thing, anyway?"

"I think Mori ordered the wrong size for Elise-chan," You held up the dress so it draped down, almost the length of your body, but not quite. It just barely sat a size too small. With its narrow set waist and countless little frills, you were, at first, a little disappointed — that such a pretty thing was going to go to waste. And then, the gears in your mind began their mischievous little tune. You looked at Chuuya with wide, imploring eyes. "Are you scared to put on a dress, my love?"

Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not scared of anything, baby doll."

"Then put it on."

"Go fuck yourself."

"You're so mean!"

At your wounded tone, the General's shoulders tightened a little. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw the way your eyebrows drooped over your sad doe eyes, how your full lips formed that pretty little pout. Damn him, he was not considering this shit, there was absolutely no way Chuuya Nakahara was going to fit himself into that ugly piece of cloth just to make you happy. Murder, espionage — sure. For you, he wouldn't even give it a second thought. It would come as natural to him as breathing air.

But this?

He poked his cheek with his tongue. He began angrily tapping his foot against the carpeted floor. Stealing a second glance at the woman he loved, he caught the shadow of disappointment hanging over your head like an ominous raincloud, and felt the last shred of his resistance dissipate into sorry little afterthoughts.

Chuuya let out an extremely exaggerated sigh. Blinking, you glanced at him. He had his head bowed a little and was holding out one open, gloved palm.

"Hand it over."

A little startled all of a sudden, you gawped, making a strange sound. "Huh?"

An impatient growl echoed in the air. Chuuya looked up to glare at you from underneath his fair lashes, his eyes the colour of diamonds, of hard impenetrable sapphires. They narrowed dangerously when you were staring too long at the rose that blushed against his alabaster skin.

"So? Are ya gonna give me the shitty little thing, or not?"

Quickly understanding that he was actually taking you seriously, that he was considering your little charade, you had become too stupefied to do anything else. With hesitant fingers did you hold the maid's dress out to him, which he snatched from your grip in one forceful, swiping movement. You thought you caught the ends of the fuckin' shit I do for this woman, at the tail of it, but you couldn't be totally sure.

Seething, Chuuya balled the garment in his fist and marched off to your on-suite bathroom. He took a little longer than you expected him to — of course, he had never tried on a dress before. Maybe he was having trouble getting past all the ribbons and buttons, ties and zippers.

"Fuck me!" You heard him swear through the door after a few more moments of silence. Tender chuckles rose like bubbles in your chest — he was trying so hard to please you, exposing that soft side you kept under lock and key, only for yourself to indulge.

You lifted your hand to knock softly on the door. "Do you need some help in there?"

A growling blue-streak of profanities. Somehow, becoming more colourful and creative than the last. "How the hell do you women wake up in the morning and do this shit, every day? There's like, a million buttons on this ugly piece of crap!"

Crashing and banging mixed into the collection of sounds that was coming from the small bathroom. Amused, but also a little worried that he'd pull a little too hard on one of the ribbons and fall backwards against the toilet seat, you placed your hand on the golden doorhandle.

"Because us women are just that amazing," You mused, not resisting the urge to goad him. Your voice then dropped into a serious lilt. "Really, it's okay, Chuuya — you don't have to—"

That was when you felt it — the cool, insistent press of gravity, the humming in the air that told you your lover had activated his fearful technique. Your eyes shot down to where it was coming from, and to your immediate surprise, you saw the soft glow of crimson enveloped around the handle you were trying to unlatch — holding it securely in place.

"No. I said I'd fuckin' do it, didn't I?" Chuuya remarked through the wood. "So I will. Go wait over at the bed."

Prideful, stubborn man, you thought, rolling your eyes at his defensive tone, oh, how you loved him. "Okay." You sang sweetly, then stepped away from the bathroom door so as to sashay over to your expansive king size. You barely had a chance to set yourself down on the satin sheets when — bang!

The on-suite door had been thrown off of its hinges and cracked against the neighbouring wall with the force he put behind it. And standing there in the doorway in all his blood-boiling, skin-heating, frill-covered glory, was that very General who instilled terror to even the most seasoned of underground criminals. The long black dress that stopped just at his ankles and puffed at the shoulders threw his wild fiery hair into focus. The frilly white apron hanging loosely at his narrow waist contested with the bright red flush creeping up his neck.

You must have been staring at him for a little too long, because Chuuya snarled. "You happy now? I look damn ridiculous."

You didn't laugh. Nor did you tease him, as always, but you rose slowly up off of the bed and began to walk over to him. Stalk him, quietly, your expression a smooth, unreadable slate. The extreme lack of a reaction from you was making Chuuya's eyebrows knit, his lips softening from snarl to frown.

"O-Oi?"

When you reached him, you shot out to grab the little lapels of the dress that collared his long neck and tugged him down. So that he came just eye level with your own darker, smouldering ones. Oh, you were going to pounce on him. Packaged up in that pretty little parcel for you, you were going to devour him where he stood.

You smiled, leaning in, and whispered, "Told you you'd look absolutely adorable, my pretty, pretty boy."

requested by the lovely [ @ringsofsaturnnnn! ]

[egoioist]

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒 stress, written scenario about jungeun in which ; she takes on heavy stress with the end of year award shows coming up and additional nct promotions

── ⟢ main masterlist ⭑.ᐟ ⟢ jungeun's masterlist ꪆৎ

time : november 2023 ⋮ pairings : jungeun , jaemin , mark , and dream's manager ⋮ genre : angst, fluff ⋮ warnings : tw.ᐟ mentions of disordered eating , stress , jungeun overworking herself , mentions of panic attacks , jungeun almost passing out , if i miss anything pls lmk!

when the members received their upcoming schedules for the next two months, jungeun thought it would be easy to manage. despite finishing a tour only a few months ago, jungeun was somehow motivated for the upcoming promotions. but her excitement was cut short when she found herself almost passing out in the practice room while preparing for her solo for an end of year award ceremony.

"jungeun, are you sure you don't need to sit and take a break?" the manager's worried voice echoed through jungeun's ears like they were heard from another planet. her head was dizzy, her breathing was picking up, and her vision was blurry.

"no. i'm fine. let's run it again." she took a deep breath as she tried to get herself up from where she was sat on the floor, but that quickly failed as she fell to the ground in her attempt to get up. jaemin and mark, who were present in the practice room, ran to jungeun to help her up.

after a few minutes of sitting up and getting some water, jungeun insisted on finishing her practice, "only one more time, please?"

"no, you need to rest for the rest of the day." jaemin's words coming out cold and sharp. anyone would think jaemin was seriously mad, but no, he was only like this so jungeun would give herself a break. and not only does it upset him seeing her like this, mark was just as hurt.

"yeah, you need to take a break. you have plently of time until the performance to practice, but you're not going to improve at all if you work yourself to nearly passing out." mark came off more genuinely concerned, he knew what it was like to practice until you can't stand straight, and he didn't want to see jungeun do that to herself.

jungeun sighed and placed her head in her hands, tears starting to form in her eyes. she knew she needed to take a break, actually take time to allow herself to improve every move and detail of her dance. but it ate at her every day that she wasn't practicing, she felt as if she wouldn't provide a good performance if she wasn't constantly working on it and trying to improve. she also knew it wasn't healthy to skip meals and rather go to the company building to repeat the same steps over and over until she was short of breath. it's not like she meant to do any of this to herself on purpose, but as an idol she feels she need to perform at her best and from her experience through the years, you can't take breaks until your art is perfect.

"jungeun, we can't stay to watch you to practice the dance a million more times until you pass out again." jaemin rubbed his hand along jungeun's back in an attempt to calm her down. "have you eaten anything today? we should get something to eat."

jaemin's words rung through her ears, he couldn't possibly know she wasn't eating properly? she tried her best to hide it from the members, not wanting them to become apart of her stress and issues. but as usual, jaemin knew even if he didn't see it with his own eyes. her passing on dinner the past few weeks, getting small portions when the group went out, "oh i ate earlier before practice", and other small indications that she wasn't eating healthily.

despite her mind telling her that jaemin's protest was unnecessary, she sighed and lifted her head, "okay." satisfied with her answer, jaemin gave her a small smile.

╱ on the ride back to jungeun and jaemin's shared apartment the silence felt suffocating to her. every second passing was another that neither of them spoke. as she watched the cars pass she was still thinking about needing to practice. no matter how hard she worked the itch was still there and it bothered her knowing thate jaemin wouldn't let her practice again for the rest of the day, even though it's because he cares about her health.

"why didn't you tell me you weren't eating?" jaemin said finally breaking the silence. jungeun took a deep breath knowing she couldn't hide it from him anymore, she felt bad for lying in the first place but her practice was her number one priority for the last few weeks.

"I- i was eating, just not as much as i probably should have." jungeun's voice was quiet, she was slightly embarrased to be talking about this out loud after keeping it to herself for so long. jaemin opened his mouth to speak again but before he could jungeun continued, "i know it's not healthy, but i really want this performance to be perfect so i feel like all i can focus on is practicing." it was hard for her to get her thoughts out, she knew everything she had been dealing with and how she felt but actually getting herself to say it aloud to jaemin's face was difficult. trying to gather the words in her head quickly became even harder, her thoughts jumbling and her mind beginning to scramble. realizing how hard she'd been pushing herself without going to any of the members for support hit her like a brick, and suddenly her breathing started to pick up and tears prodded at her eyes.

jaemin, waiting for her to continue speaking, looked over at jungeun and noticed her anxious state. his expression quickly turning into a worried one, "jungeun, what's wrong?"

"i'm fine, sorry." she hid her head in her hands, tears from her eyes immediately wetting the fabric of her hoodie sleeves.

"jungeun, you're not fine. please tell me what's been going on. tell me everything even if you find it embarrassing, which i know you do because i know how hard talking about your problems out loud is for you. just please talk to me."

jungeun was honestly touched by his words, she felt bad not being more open so now she felt she had no choice but to tell him everything.

"i'm just really stressed jaem, i feel like everytime i practice the choreography there's something else i need to work on and the performance has been stressing me out for weeks. i want to perform really really good, i'm excited but i'm scared i'm gonna mess it all up if i don't work on it every day." she doesn't notice she's fully sobbing at this point, she never realized how much she needed to talk to anyone about this. "if i go to practice during the day i usually don't have time to eat before so i've been unintentionally missing meals, so that's making me more stressed and i've been so anxious recently and sometimes i have panic attacks again and-"

"wait, you've been having panic attacks again and didn't say anything?!"

"i- well, yeah sometimes." jungeun's voice gets quiet again. she looks down as she plays with her hands, ashamed of not having told jaemin her issues earlier. "i'm sorry, i feel bad if you have to deal with me when i'm having panic attacks so i tried not to bother you about it."

"jungeun, you need to tell me, or any of the members, when you have panic attacks. it's not safe for you to deal with them yourself."

"i feel bad that you have to worry about me, they haven't been bad so i didn't think saying anything would be necessary." jungeun knew it wasn't safe for her to not bring it up to the members, panic attacks being a recurring issue for her that's affected her ability to promote during schedules several times. she's had them for years since debut, but overtime she's been able to manage the attacks better and even reduce them by focusing on relieiving stress. she's gotten used to them so she forgets to say anything to the members sometimes, which causes problems when they end up find out.

"listen, i don't mind dealing with you at all if you need me to help you, but please tell me this stuff when it happens."

jungeun is ashamed that this conversation even came to be, so all she can do is nod to jaemin's words.

"we don't have to keep talking about it if you don't want to, i understand, but you need to tell me these things when they happen. i love you and i don't want to see you struggle like this without reaching out."

"thank you, i love you too jaem."

note ʚɞ sighs i SUCKKKK at writing scenarios/fics.. i feel like this had a good start then i just kept writing and it ended weird 😭 i also apologize if this portrayal of mental struggles isn't that good, i went off my own experiences so it may not seem realistic to others but i hope it's enjoyable nonetheless!

©️egoioist

[self-shipping-doll13]

#1 - First Snowfall

December Prompts

Wc: 335

The frigid morning air bit at my skin as I helped Ivar don his thick fur-lined cloak, the heavy wool smelling of lanolin and sheep. Ivar, smelling of Ivar, of home.

His fingers, rough with calluses, brushed mine as he gripped the fabric, pulling it close around him. The cloak was dark, nearly black, with a clasp of hammered silver at the throat that glinted in the pale Winter light slanting through the window slats.

“I’ll be back before nightfall,” he promised, thumb rubbing my lip as he cupped my jaw, holding it like something beloved, precious. “Wait for me.”

“Always,” I told him, putting my hand over his.

Ivar leaned in, capturing my lips in a swift, fierce kiss that stole away my breaths. Then he turned, moving towards the door on his iron-tipped crutch.

His war chariot awaited outside, the driving mare snorting plumes of frosty breath, harnesses jingling as jerky-hard faced scouts readied the rigging.

My own fur cloak was white wolf, the pelt soft and trapping heat against my body, the ruff of it tickling my face like some sinuous beast was wrapped around it.

I met Ivar’s cold blue gaze one last time—softening only for me, then forming once more into harsh ice as he cracked the embellished leather reins. He galloped off into the rising mist, his scouts in tow. By then the snow was already beginning to fall in fat, lazy flakes. Swirling, flurrying, tumbling whiteness.

I turned my face up to the sky, letting the first few crystals settle on my lashes and melt against my cheeks. The cold nipped at my nose and fingertips, but I relished the last sight of him in warm-blooded flesh, knowing he would be riding out into danger, into whatever threat that loomed on the horizon, a fleeting vision as dark as snow-choked skies...

I shivered, my teeth clattering in the cold, and turned back to the Great Hall, my boots crunching in the thin layer of snow that already blanketed the ground.

Dividers by @/fireflygraphics

[something-tofightfor]

First and 10 - Masterlist

Summary: Meeting a handsome stranger at a Super Bowl party leads to much more than you ever imagined.

Smut will be marked with an *; individual warnings, thorough summaries and further story information on each post.

Everything is a one-shot, unless otherwise marked.

(divider by @/fireflygraphics)

Daniel + Vacation (how Daniel ended up at the party)

First and 10 

Daniel + Beer (meeting Reader; Daniel’s POV)

Extras: Football square sheet / Dirt Cake recipe / Butter Cake recipe

Daniel - Distracting Kiss (summer smooch prompt request)

Smutsgiving 2023: Sweet Potato Casserole

Second and Goal

Third and Long

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[alexa-yukiyu]

Could I please request fem avatar!child!reader (avatar as in avatar the last Airbender) with the whitebeard pirates?

But the avatar is a myth but one day ace (or any other character/s) is losing battle and reader uses the avatar state to save them but reader ends up fainting from how much energy they used up

And ofc reader has no family or friends to go back to.

I love your writing sm and I hope you're drinking enough water, sleeping enough and eating properly :D

Torturous Training ( Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader)

A/N . Alright I took the liberty of straying away from the request because I have no idea how the avatar state works or what it really is no matter how much I read so I din’t feel confident in doing that but instead we get Dokucha training her different elements with the crew….so basically I just did the avatar part of the request 😂 I hope yall like it regardless

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/fireflygraphics and @/drinkthesky

“Agh! I don’t get it!!” Dokucha huffs, throwing herself on the ground, much to the older man’s amusement

“GuraGuraGura! What’s wrong, squirt? Giving up so easy?!” he booms, looking down at her defeated form.

“Easy for you to say, Papaw!” She exclaimed, bolting up from the floor and pointing an accusing finger in his direction

“All you have to do is grabby hands, and the earth and air will tremble for you!” she screamed.

“We’ve been going at it for hours, and I haven’t been able to lift even a single pebble,” she whined, stomping her feet.

“You must will the heavens and earth to move for you; you lack the will,” he easily replied

“Hah?” she frowned, dropping herself to the ground once again, crossing her legs as she sat in front of the man, looking up at him, confused.

“What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not trying hard enough? Because that’s bullshit, Papaw”

“Watch your language,” he grumbled.

“Sorrey”

“I’m saying that we have been training for hours, but not once have you believed the earth or wind would bend to your will.”

“Well, yeah, we have been training for hours, and it hasn’t moved, so why would I expect it to move this time?” She asked confused

“The earth is the foundation of everything, so why would it move for a brat who doesn’t even believe she can move it?!” He bellows

She frowned, thinking over his words, unable to make sense of it.

He narrowed his eyes at this as he activated his devil fruit, causing the earth to tremble and for Dokucha to fall backward, trying to withstand the seismic movement.

“Gurarara! How can you possibly move the earth if you can’t even keep your feet on the ground!! Root Yourself Girl! We will try again.” He laughed

She groaned, standing up and brushing the dirt that had fallen herself on the earthquake as she planted her feet on her ground and tensed her muscles, trying to visualize the land below her, gritting her teeth as she felt his devil fruit begin to move the ground.

As the ground beneath her began to shake uncontrollably she stomped her feet, digging them into the ground to maintain herself standing.

“Gurararara! That’s more like it squirt!” Whitebeard cackled as he deactivated his devil fruit as she slowly opened her eyes and took in the scene in front of her. All around her was the evident aftermath of her father’s devil fruit, with the earth having been terraformed, various points of the ground spiking forward in an attempt to escape the heavy pressure it found itself under. All around her, except the earth below her feet, where she had deeply planted her feet, remained a small platform untouched by the chaos.

“Ha..haHAHAHA I did it!” She hollered, jumping in excitement.

“I did it, Papaw!! I did it!!”

“Don’t get too excited. We are just getting started.”

“Huh?”

“You thought this training would be done when you withstood the power a single finger managed to do?”

“One finger?” She asked as her blood drained from her face at the information

“Should we jump to a hand now since you seemed so sure of yourself?” He asked with a dubious grin on his face

“Like this?” she muttered, trying to imitate the position Namur was currently doing.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Umm, I’m gonna need more than that, Namur-nii,” she stated hesitantly, watching as the short-spoken fishman let out a grunt, approached her figure, and began moving her limbs into an outward block position.

“Too stiff,” he stated, prying open her tight fists.

“Let go.” He added, stepping back

“Let go? Namur-nii, your instructions are too vague!!” She cried, gaining a huff from the Fishman

“Water is not earth. It is light. Be loose like the water so you can move the water.”

“Umm, like jello?” she questioned, confused, tilting her head as Namur let out a sigh.

“Let it flow. Do not force it.”

She frowned but closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she did as he asked, dropping the aggressive movements she had practiced earlier and replacing them with soft movements, making gentle pulling motions as she glided along the ship’s deck.

After hours of straining her body trying to control such a heavy element like earth, these movements felt nice; they felt liberating, and she smiled. Feeling the heaviness on her body slowly leave her as she continued her movements, she let herself free and be pulled by the flow, as her brother had suggested.

“You did it.” She heard her brother’s voice state, causing her to shoot her eyes open, watching in awe at the currents of water that now surrounded her

“Do-

Before Namur could warn her, Dokucha easily guessed what the warning was. She realized that with her movements and concentration broken, nothing was willing the water to move with her anymore, and it shot out in a powerful gust of water….straight into Namur.

“Ha…ha..uh, sorry?” She muttered, watching his drenched form, his frown deepening further than usual, something that would have amused Dokucha had she not been the cause of it, flinching at the glare he sent her way

“I guess water practice is over?” She spoke, chuckling nervously

“Go.”

“Yes sir,” she muttered, quickly scrambling off.

“So are we here because it is quieter, Marco-nii?” she questioned, looking down at the deck, the figures of her brothers down minimized to the size of ants.

“Something like that-yoi.”

“I thought you said I had gotten better at the meditating stuff?” she questioned, looking up at him.

“You have, which is why we will now practice flying-yoi.”

“Really?!” she beamed, laughing gleefully as he let out an affirming hum.

“Are you going to let me write your back?”

“No”

“Oh. Are you going to carry me then?”

“No”

“Huh?” she questioned

“Then h-

She paused her words, taking one good look at the grin on his face and backing away from him as it dawned on her.

“Marco-nii, no way.”

“The bird needs to leave the nest eventually-yoi.” He smiled, walking closer to her

“M-Marco-nii, wait. Let’s think about this: I can help you in the clinic with the paperwork. You have lots of it, yes?”

“I do, but I will prioritize the training of my dear sister above paperwork.”

“Is there anything I can offer you to push this training back?”

“Nope”

“Marco-nii, if you don’t catch me, I will hunt you until the end of times!”

“Yes, yes; now let’s get this started,” he laughed, transforming into his full zoan form as he gave her a nudge, ignoring the glare she gave her as he did

“I’m going to get back at you for this, Marco!” she cried as she jumped from the nest.

“Ace-nii!!” She cried, running to the man

“Wow, there! I wish my subordinates were as excited as you are about training,” he snickered. He grabbed the tween and spun her around, grinning as she let loud giggles escape her at the motion.

“You would be too, after having to train with Papaw and Namur-nii, not to mention the years Marco-nii just scared out of me,” She whined as they both sat down.

“It feels like my arms, legs, and heart are going to fall off,” she muttered, climbing into his lap and smiling when he wrapped his arms around her.

“Well, you do struggle with the other elements more than you do with fire.”

“Can you blame me? Fire comes out so easy, maybe because I don’t have to worry about my limbs falling off or me falling off,” she grinned, lifting a hand and easily igniting it on fire.

“Maybe if I had a logia devil fruit like you, my body wouldn’t hurt as much? You know, with my body made of an element and whatnot.” she voiced absentmindedly, tossing a ball of fire in between her hands.

“It Doesn’t work like that, Dork; I still feel fatigued and pained my body is not always made of fire. Don’t you remember when I first came aboard? Marco had to patch me up multiple times a day when I fought Pops.”

“Papaw is merciless,” she sighed.

“It’s because he cares.”

“I know, but tell my body that,” she groaned, cuddling further into him.

“Alright, alright. Seeing as you’re already good with fire, how about we take a small break today?”

“Yes, please,” she pleaded.

“Alright, want to give the Striker a spin?”

“Yes! But…can it wait? I just need to rest for a little bit.”

“To bed it is!! He exclaimed, shooting up and bringing the girl up with him.

“You’re the best, Ace!” She exclaimed with a tired giggle escaping her as she nuzzled further into him

We somewhat got that fainting scene, ish? I mean she fell asleep from the fatigue so close enough?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162