#fair isn't a word where i come from YOU'RE A KID

[cassettemoon]

You are eight years old

You have to kill your dad

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.

! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.

! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.

! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.

! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.

! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."

You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.

! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."

His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.

"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.

[buckyalpine]

I'm in a angsty, fluffy, sensitive babie mood. You know that silly prank people do where they text/talk to their partner all serious about having to confess something serious just to tell them "I'm Batman". So imagine Bucky does that but he has no idea how badly it would trigger you.

"Y/n" Bucky entered your shared bedroom quietly, letting his heavy duffle bag hit the ground with a thud. "There's-there's something I have to tell you"

"What is it, is everything okay baby" You set down the book you were reading, growing worried seeing his fallen expression. He sighs, slowly approaching the bed and taking a seat by the edge next to you. You move to see if he's injured anywhere but he stops you, resting his hand on your leg.

"I'm fine. It's just-something I've been meaning to tell you. Probably something I should've told you a long time ago" He bites his lip contemplating his next words, itching to burst into a fit of giggles. "I have to tell you the truth"

"Tell me the truth?" Your stomach drops and your throat starts to tighten. "You can tell me Bucky, anything" You struggle to keep your voice steady, holding your breath, waiting for his next words.

"It's just-I can't believe I kept this from you and it isn't fair to you at all, you know?" He runs his hand through is locks while keeping his blue eyes cast down. "It's been going on for about a year now..."

If you weren't already sitting down, you would've passed out. All the pervious anxieties you'd had in past relationships, all the deep insecurities and worries you had came pouring out at once, your deepest fears coming true.

Of course Bucky was seeing someone else.

Of course you weren't good enough.

Of course he cheated on you just like the last guy, why did you think you deserved someone to love you, obviously-

"I'm bat man!-baby? baby, what's wrong" Bucky went from giggling like a madman to feeling pure dread within a matter of seconds seeing your tear streaked face. His nervous act was no longer just an act, anxiety filling his chest seeing you so distraught. "Oh God, baby don't cry, I was joking, c'mere"

"W-what?" You sniffled, trying to swallow down a hiccup while Bucky scrambled to scoop you in his arms, wiping away your tears.

"I was just kidding around with you doll, I said I was bat man, I didn't mean to upset you babygirl" Bucky cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while you slowly got your breathing under control again. Bucky truly thought you would've whacked him with a pillow or playfully shoved him off the bed, never in a million years did he think you'd take actually any of this seriously. You whimpered in his arms as he squeezed you tighter, continuing to give you soft, sweet kisses.

"Baby-do you-do you really think I'd ever cheat on you?" He spoke softly, keeping you cradled in a ball, close to his body. A part of him felt hurt that you felt that way, that he'd ever given you room to think he would do such a thing. He thought he was going to cry, the very thought of being with anyone else made his heart hurt.

"I thought you were seeing someone else" you whispered, old pains of coming in second resurfacing. "Maybe you found someone better-

"Never" Bucky moved to cup your cheeks firmly in his hands, making you look at him, "I would never. I love you so much angel, so much it fucking hurts. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't even dream of someone else. I couldn't, I-fuck, you're everything to me" His own voice nearly cracked with emotion, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I love you like I've loved no one else, you have my heart sweet girl"

"Promise?" You toyed with his dogtags while he pressed his lips firms to yours, sealing every bit of his feelings with that kiss.

"I promise baby" He pulled you down to lay with your head resting on his chest, his hand gently playing with your hair, "So back to what I was confessing - Ow"

...

"I deserved that"

[lovelybrooke]

Since my hazbin hotel concept didn't really go over the characters reactions to the readers dissaperrance, I thought I'd go over it here.

masterlist

---

Charlie

Charlie is so, so very sad. She doesn't know what she did wrong, why would you leave? Part of her wonders if it's her, if it's the hotel, maybe she did something wrong and now you're gone.

Charlie devotes all her time into finding you, you have to be somewhere. But after days and days of looking and finding nothing, not even a trace, she starts to feel like it's hopeless.

Charlie switches between intense depression and motivation constantly. She'll spend weeks in her room, alone, only letting Vaggie in. Then, suddenly, she'll burst out and demand that they get on with the search. It's like she's a completely different person, but deep down, everyone can tell that she's racked with guilt.

She just has to find you, she'll even get his dad to help if it comes to it. It doesn't matter, whatever it takes. She just wants to apologize for...whatever she did. Once you're back in the hotel, she'll make everything right, so right that you won't want to leave again.

Vaggie

Vaggie is well...Vaggie. She's conflicted. She doesn't know whether to feel afraid, upset, worried. It's too many emotions to shift through, too complicated. Because of these complicated feelings, she has a hard time being there for Charlie. She want's to help with the search, she really does, but at the same time she doesn't want to have to accept the fact that you truly are gone.

Lucifer isn't even able to find you, Alastor isn't even able to find you. You have to bee somewhere far away to stay out of there reach. The longer you're gone, the longer she's left wondering what made you leave. In your last few days at the hotel you were distant, like mentally. You were incapable of paying attention to anyone or anything, and thinking back on it, she should've known something was up.

She feels ashamed for being so guarded around you, for making it seem like she was weary of you. She was, but the point still stands. You're a nice kid, way too nice to be in hell. Maybe heaven realized that, and sent you back to where you belonged. No--

She won't have that, that isn't right, and it's not fair. It's not fair to Charlie, it's not fair to her, it's not fair to anyone else. You shouldn't just get to dig yourself into everyone in the hotel and then get ripped away when they finally accepted it. It's not fair.

If it was heaven that took you from them, she'll make them pay.

Angel

Angel wants closure.

He gets why you left, he really does. You're too good for this place, for all these people, and so you left, he gets it. What he wants is for you to tell him to his face that it wasn't his fault.

He looks back on his interactions with you, him closing himself off only to welcome you in at the very last moment, the moment where he craved friendship and stability the most, only to then push you away when you needed him. You were struggling, with--something.

Something he has no understanding of. He can't decipher anything behind those blank eyes, he can't figure out what your monotone words mean, and it worries him. He wants to be there for you, offer you comfort, anything.

But he knows he'll just ruin you more. He'll say something, do something, and you'll leave him, you'll hate him. He'll infect you, ruin you, until you're nothing more than a shell of what you used to be, and he hates the thought.

But it doesn't matter now, because even after keeping you at arms length, after depriving himself of you, you still leave, and all he's left with is the pain of not knowing. Not knowing if he did something, if he hurt you, if this is his fault.

But what hurts the most is the pain of not knowing if he could've done something, said something, did anything other than wallow in his own pity and desperation.

Maybe if he did you'd still be here. But he'd never know, would he.

Husk

Husk immediately assumes Alastor is to blame.

That Radio Demon is up to something, he's been gone for days since you left, doing whatever the fuck. He assumes, hopes, that Alastor is looking for you, because if anyones to find you its him. But of course, Alastor tells him nothing. So all he can do is hope.

Hope that you're somewhere safe, somewhere good. He hopes that there's someone nice taking care of you, or that you're at least taking care of yourself. He hopes that you're happy, and healthy, and everything else a kid should be. Because ultimately that's all Husk has, is hope.

He wonders what he could've done, if anything. He wonders what Alastor is going to do, if anything. He wonders what's going to eventually happen when they don't find you, and you're gone, and everyone just has to accept that you're not coming back. He wonders if that's even possible.

Because as a bartender he watches as Angel drink his days away, and as Charlie slaves away with searching for you, and as Vaggie spends all her time in her head.

And when Alastor is at the Hotel, he watches as he converses with Charlie, both of them talking in hushed whispers. He can hear the static, and the screams, and the pleas as Alastor demands to know how you haven't been found. And for a second, he sees worry in Alastor.

And in turn, Husk worries, because if you, and you disappearing, is so easily capable of making Alastor lose his composer, than something must be wrong. If Alastor isn't able to find you, and it's making him worry then it must be serious, it must be real.

But even so, Husk hopes. He hopes you're safe, and happy, and healthy. Because now there's the possibility that you're not coming back, and Husk has nothing left but hope.

Alastor

Alastor knew something was up with you.

From the moment you appeared in Hell, he knew you weren't right. You were too...alive for a demon. You were too naive for someone in Hell. You were too human.

For a while, there was nothing Alastor could do to prove his thoughts and honesty, he didn't want to. It was fun, watching as you stumble about this world completely unaware of what you've gotten yourself into. You're interesting, and you intrigue him. You should be proud, that's not something most can do.

But as your stay in hell lengthens, his feelings for you a mudded. His intrigue is turned into obsession, an obsession for you naivety, for you humanness. It makes him wonder how, or why you're down here. What you must've done to be placed here, even if you are somehow alive.

Alastor hasn't felt like this in a long time, and a part of him despises you for it. He hates the feelings that washes through his chest when he's around you, almost paternal like. He hates the way he faltered when he was told of your disappearance. And he hates the anger that course through him after weeks of not being able to find you.

Alastor looks everywhere, in every corner of Hell for any sign of you, and comes up with nothing, and it enrages him. It's an emotion he's more familiar with, rage, and for some reason hates it.

Because this type of rage is only direct at people who take you from him, this type of rage means you had the gaul to leave him. But this type of rage is the thing motivating him to keep searching and he looks forward to when you back with him.

Because you will be back with him, and the rage will be gone, and instead be replaced with that sweat, unfamiliar obsession that he's come to crave.

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath out bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[junipers-archive]

Reíd request here! Could you do playing strip poker with Spencer?

Hi! yes ofc thank you for sending your idea to me, also hope you don't mind I kinda made this sub!spencer x reader and a lil smutty blurb:') Word count: 660//Includes smutty themes obviously & grinding & sub x dom dynamic a lil bit

"Four of a kind." You say smirking to yourself as Spencer blushes and ducks his head. He's down to his boxers by this point and similarly you're down to your underwear and bra.

Quietly looking up he replys, "Royal Flush."

To be fair this was your own fault. You were one who had insisted you two play strip poker when he had only suggested poker to pass the time. But in your defense you needed to get over this crush of yours.

It was getting embarrassing how many times you wondered what it would feel like to skim your fingers down his chest, kiss his neck, feel the weight of him under you, inside you...

So when Hotch told you you'd be rooming together you took it to your advantage.

You'd convinced yourself that worst case sceneario he'd flat out reject you and it'd be easier to get over him. Best case...well you'd see when the time came.

"You're kidding." He'd won the past few rounds. He had to be cheating, but to your surprise the very thought sent a rush of warmth to your core. If he was cheating, he wanted to win, and if he wanted to win...could that mean he wanted to see you naked?

"Nope!" he's smirking all the while blushing bright red as he puts his cards down for you to see, and when you lean over to get a good look you also give him one of your chest.

When he sputters, not even hiding the fact he's staring right at your tits you laugh, crawling slightly closer to him so he can see all of you better, even the curve of your ass which you purposely arch your back to create a better view for.

"See something you like, genius?"

Now he's turning his head every-which way trying to look anywhere but your chest, and failing horribly as he attempts to look downward which only gives him the best shot.

"I-I no! I- mean ye-yes-I just-I'm sorry-" he stutters as you grab his face, coming to sit on his lap where you take notice of his hard-on beneath you.

"Answer the question Doctor."

At that he whines, squirming, "Y-Yes?"

"Okay, that's good to hear" You begin trailing kisses down his neck and whispering, "So tell me Spence, since you won the last round, what piece of clothing do I take off now?"

"I-I get to choose?" His hands still haven't left the rug beneath him so you pull them to rest on the back of your thighs when you look up at him again.

"You win, pretty boy." you're whispering against hips lips at this point so you lean in to kiss him fully and feel him finally relax, grabbing your ass to pull you even closer.

When you pull back he's gasps, which you deem as your new favorite sound, "This."

It takes you a moment to realize he's referring to your lacy bra as he tugs at it from behind, giving you his big hazel doe eyes all the while.

When you unclasp it, its falls to the ground simultaneously as he audibly groans at your bare breasts.

He takes one hand off your ass, no longer shy, massaging one of your tits in one hand as he sucks small hickies that make your head spin on the other.

You giggle at his eagerness and slip his cock out of his boxers pumping it in your hand until the tip is leaking with pre-cum.

He whines when you swipe your finger over it, and you swear you could come at the sound alone.

It isn't until he begs that you begin to grind your clothed mound against him.

You both moan at the friction your panties provide and you yourself throw your head back as he begins to move you faster with the hand that remains on your ass.

And you're surprised that even in this blissed state you can hear him over both of your loud border-line pornographic moans, as he whispers against you, "Thank god for strip poker."

[bruciemilf]

Need an AU where Bruce, after a particularly nasty fight with Dick, pays a visit to Dr. Fate,

It wasn't meant to happen. There's no such thing as a good patrol, but Dami wasn't supposed to get hurt. He wasn't supposed to hold back sobbing under Alfred's stitches.

Because kids aren't made for that. Kids aren't made for pain and agony. Kids aren't made to suffer quietly.

Dami reaches for him, face shining with sweat, and Bruce reaches back, " It's okay, Damian. You'll be fine,"

"Okay?!" Dick's anger is like a knife dragged on skin. He doesn't sound angry. Bruce works well with that. He sounds like someone whose baby brother is bleeding on their hands. Distraught and wrecked. "Nothing about this is okay. And you're going to act like this is normal?"

" Dick, now's not the time, --"

" No, little wing, it is. When I met Damian, -- I swore, that I wouldn't let Gotham break him like it broke you. That I'd never fail like Bruce failed you. Because that's what you do, isn't it? You're ruin. We're in pain, and you put us here."

And there's no real argument to be made. No rebuttal, no verbal combat. Bruce's words don't matter. The shatter in his heart doesn't matter. That flood of poisoning sadness stabbing his stomach doesn't matter.

Because Dick wasn't hateful. He wasn't angry. He was simply truthful. And it's no longer fair to pretend otherwise.

He accepts it with his head lowered and a mission in mind. He pretends every hair doesn't stiffen and his skin doesn't freeze when Damian's chokes, " Baba, don't go,"

But he knows what he has to do. And he knows Dr. Fate does, too.

"Erasing you from the chapters of time would be unwise. You are balance. It's also massively selfish, but I don't need to tell you that. Legends aren't legends by belonging to themselves. The world needs Barman,"

"But not Bruce Wayne."

Dr. Fate doesn't disagree.

"From the moment they met you. All memories. Everyone you've ever known isn't allowed to know you?''

He doesn't hesitate. Not even once, " Yes.''

"Be careful what you wish for, Wayne," But Dr. Fate glows, with brilliant white and gold, and Bruce's body quivers. God, he hates magic. "One day, it might come true."

---

Clark blinked.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

He wasn't sure why he was dizzy. He wasn't sure why he was standing in the middle of a jewelry store. "Oh, yes, I'm good. Sorry, just...I'll go now. I think I walked here by mistake."

The cashier gives him an understanding look, sending him off with a congratulations on the way.

He wast sure why she was congratulating him.

Why was he holding an engagement ring?

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hey can I request Korra x gn!reader where Asami doesn’t know that reader is in relationship with Korra and starts flirting with reader and Korra gets jealous and it ends up in cuddles?

Can be headcannons or one-shot. However you want it!

EEP. I've been in a korra mood lately so I'm sooo down for this.

Jealous Thing | Korra x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: It's her own fault. Due to Avatar duties, Korra failed to tell Asami you and her were together. Now, she has to suffer the consequences of her actions.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: A Curse Word, Jealous Korra, Mako Cameo, Playful Banter, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

Okay, it wasn't supposed to be this way. Today was supposed to be a calm, chill, relaxing day in the Air Temple. You finally got a day off of work, Korra had some relief from her Avatar duties, and Asami got some time off as well. But now, Korra has to watch Asami flirt with her partner from across the room.

You were laughing, playfully pushing Asami. You were completely oblivious to her acts.

Asami's flirting isn't subtle. It's very in your face in the best way possible. She deepens her tone, uses touch and body language, and she never ever breaks eye contact. Her attempts toward you fell flat though.

You were with Korra. Hopelessly devoted to her, if you will. Since Korra and Asami are best friends, you assumed the raven knew of your relationship. However, with work and avatar duties, neither of them had the time to chat or sit down to write a letter. You thought Asami's touchiness and flirts were a part of her nature.

You were only acquaintances after all.

"No, you have to come over sometime!" Asami laughed. "I brought the Krew before, it's only fair you come to. Think of it as a new friendship tradition," she shimmed her shoulder against yours. A laugh broke out of you.

"Mm, sure. I mean, spending some time in a pool sounds fun. You said it was at your house?"

"Yeah! Indoors, you can use floaties or you can stay on the pool chairs."

Korra watched as Asami's green eyes sparkled as she looked into yours. She watched as the raven made subtle flirtatious expressions as she listened to you speak.

The scene made Korra want to barf.

"You gonna say something or are you going to stand here, hiding behind a pillar, like a creep?" Mako spoke from behind Korra. The Avatar didn't jump. She simply waved him off.

"Go away, Mako. I'm listening to an important conversation here."

Mako quirked a brow. He peeked from the pillar, his eyes landing on you and Asami. He hummed. Unlike most people, Mako was observant. It was obvious Korra had some sort of crush on you.

Her body langauge was closed off, her jaw was tense, and if looks could kill, Asami would be obliterated. The sight of Korra made Mako chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" Korra spat. Her eyes remained on the two of you.

"Because this is reminding me of when you first met Asami. You were jealous of her then and you're jealous of her now."

Korra snapped towards him. "I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous. I'm the Avatar. What do I have to be jealous of?"

Mako shrugged "I don't know. Someone else getting close to someone you want to get close to? Someone else getting the opportunity to be romantically involved with someone you want to be romantically involved with? Someone who--"

"--Okay, I get it. You think I'm jealous," scoffed Korra. The Avatar finally peeled her eyes away from the pair. With her arms crossed over her chest, she turned around and rested her back on the pillar.

"No," Mako mimicked her arms. "I know you're jealous." He gained another scoff. He only continued. "Look, just sort through your feelings and confess before it's too late, okay? You don't want to break up another couple."

Korra dropped her jaw with a gasp. She looked up at Mako who only laughed in response. "Kidding, kidding," Mako said through laughter. Korra's face morphed into a scowl. "I'm kidding!" the boy defended with his arms up.

With a roll of her eyes, Korra turned back around to watch you and Asami again. "Whatever, Mako."

A quiet laugh blew past Mako's lips as he walked away.

"I don't need to confess anything," Korra muttered to herself. "They're my partner. I've already done the hard part. If only Miss.Asami could see that."

-

Dinner was anything but peaceful. Asami decided to take you and Korra out for noodles in the city. Mako and Bolin were invited as well, but they had prior plans.

You sat in a booth next to Korra. You slurped your noodles and wiped the broth off your face. Asami would like to do the same, slurping her noodles, but Korra sent daggers from across the table.

Her blue eyes pierced into Asami's green. Korra was so tense that her shoulders were to her ears, her lips were pursed to the side, and her jaw was tensed.

"Is something wrong?" Asami asked. The girl neatly placed her chopsticks on the chopstick rest.

"No." Korra iced.

Slurping up an awry noodle, you peeked out of the corner of your eye. "Doesn't seem like it."

Korra snapped a glare towards you, but once she realized who she was sitting next to, she eased. "Oh, sorry." Korra grabbed her soup spoon and scooped up some broth.

You and Asami shared a puzzled glance.

That was weird, right?

Extremely.

-

Back at the Air Temple, you three walked in a horizontal line. You were in the middle, Asami was on your left, Korra was on your right. The crickets chirped as the cool breeze brushed past your skin.

If twinkling stars made a sound, they would chime and ping. The water from the fountain in the middle of the courtyard completed the night's ambiance.

You stopped walking, letting the moonlight bask on you. You closed your eyes and took a deep inhale.

"Everything okay?" Asami asked. She and Korra stood in front of you.

You nodded. You continued to let the moon soak into your skin and the breeze settle you. It was times like this where you remember how pivotal nature is to the human body. You needed to meditate with Tenzin more often. Is this what grounding feels like?

"Never better," you exhaled. Your feet dug into the ground and you opened your palms to further enjoy the night.

Both Korra and Asami couldn't believe the sight there were seeing. This ethereal human was standing right in front of them looking like a deity. Your complexion glowed in the moonlight and your eyelashes looked especially long and kissable.

Korra took a gander towards Asami. It had to be hard being lighter-skinned. Even in the nighttime, a blush still showed. Asami's lovestruck eyes and tilt of her head made Korra sick. She felt the urge to grab your face and kiss you until your lips turned purple.

Yes, right in front of Asami.

She wished she didn't care about Asami's feelings, but she does. If Asami truly had a crush on you, kissing you like that would break her heart. Plus, Korra couldn't blame her. You were the most beautiful being she's ever seen and Korra owns a mirror.

"I think," Korra's voice croaked. "I'm gonna hit the hay. Dinner was so filling and who knew a day of nothing could be so tiring?" she gave the two of you a forced chuckle.

"But you barely ate your dinner." you finally opened your eyes to see Korra. You should've opened your eyes earlier. She looked like a moon spirit in the moonlight. Her eyes were wide and sparkling and damn, her arms never looked better.

"Ah, well. What can you do? The body is crazy, haha." Without another spoken word, Korra turned on her heels and walked away.

You and Asami exchanged another glance.

-

"Hey, Korra?" you murmured. You let your knuckles knock on her wooden door. "Can I come in?"

Korra was dressed in her pjs with her hair down and her bed prepared for sleeping, but she shuffled over to the door. She gave you a tired smile when she opened her door. "Of course you can. You don't have to ask.”

"Oh, well, I thought I should since... since you've been mad at me all day," you kept your gaze on the ground as you stepped into her room. You picked at your nails and met her eyes when she closed her door.

"Mad at you? I'm not mad at you. I could never be mad at you," Korra frowned. She shuffled over to you. She put her hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. "What makes you think I was mad at you?"

"You haven't spoken to me all day. I thought we were supposed to be spending time together. You know, you and me. Maybe even you, me, and Asami," you pouted as you spoke. "Do you hate me?"

"No, babe. No. I don't hate you and I never could." her hands found their way to your face. She cupped her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry, I've been in my head all day."

"Why? Did I do something?" Your eyes shifted between hers, trying to find some animosity or insincerity. You couldn't find any.

"No, here, come sit." Korra took ahold of your hand. She led you to the bed and sat you down. With her next to you, she pulled your legs over her lap. Korra took a deep breath.

She hates when Mako is right. She was jealous. Jealous as hell. She was so jealous she didn't want to admit it and ended up hurting you in the process. She couldn't even imagine how Asami felt. She'll have to deal with that in the morning. Right now, Korra's priority is you.

"The reason why I haven't been sociable today is because," she took another deep breath. "Iwasjealous."

"What?" You leaned closer into her.

"I was jealous," admitted Korra. "I didn't like how Asami was flirting with you, putting her hands on you, making you laugh. That's my job. Mine. Not anyone else's and especially not hers."

You debated on scolding Korra for the way she was talking about her best friend, but it would be inappropriate. Korra was expressing an insecurity of hers. Now was not the time to scold her for talking ill about her best friend.

"Korra," you cupped her cheek. "Asami wasn't flirting with me. She was just being nice."

"No, babe," Korra chuckled. She placed a hand on your hip. "She was flirting with you. Trust me, I've seen it myself."

"But, why would she flirt with her best friend's partner?" Your face scruched in disgust. Maybe Korra talking ill about Asami was justified. You never struck Asami as a girl who would steal her best friend's partner. Icky.

"Because," Korra chewed on her lower lip. Her heartbeat rose and she bit down on her inner cheek. "She doesn't know you're my partner."

"What?" You peeled yourself off of Korra. You went to take your legs off her lap, but Korra pinned them down.

"Hey now, wait. It's not like that."

You went to rebuttal, but Korra put her hand over your mouth.

"Shh, listen." Korra was tempted to smirk and tease you about how cute you looked with her hand over your mouth, but she decided against it. At least for now. "She doesn't know we're together because we haven't had time to chat. I've been so busy with my avatar duties and any free time I have, I want to spend with you. Not to mention Asami's killer and brutal schedule. That girl cannot get a break."

You brought your hand to push Korra's off of you. She didn't budge. You continued to push and nudge at her hand.

"Are you gonna be upset? I'm not going to take my hand off if you're still upset."

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You exclaimed her name behind her hand.

"As much as I like hearing you scream my name, that's not the answer I'm looking for," the Avatar smirked at you.

Warmth glowed behind your cheeks. You playfully slammed your hands down on the bed and kicked your legs which were still under her grip. "Korra!" you exclaimed once more, laughter ripping from your belly.

Since your laughter is music to her ears, and the fact that she didn't hear you laugh this way with Asami, Korra removed her hand from your mouth. "Hey, stop kicking me." Korra gave a love tap to the side of your thigh.

You laughed, kicking a few moments longer before stopping. "Why didn't you tell her about us when she first arrived?"

Korra whined. "I don't know! I just saw you two talking and the way she was moving and knew she was flirting with you. I was stunned with jealousy. I couldn't move," she whined again.

"Oh, poor baby." You brought Korra's head down to your shoulders. You laid yourselves back on her mattress, your heads resting on her plush pillows. "You should tell her. And you should know I'm yours and only yours."

"But she's my best friend who has a crush on you! If I tell her you're taken by me, she's going to be heartbroken. Who can blame her? You're a catch," Korra pouted up at you.

You smoothed your hand over her hair. "Or she'll be understanding and the best best friend ever. She'll congratulate you and tell you how lucky we are to have each other," you hummed. "If you can't tell your best friend about the hard stuff, are you really best friends?"

Korra pondered over your sentence for a second. Korra loved talking about anything and everything with Asami. Not being able to fawn over you with her and ramble about how awesome you are was killing her.

"I guess you're right," Korra snuggled her head into the crook of your neck. "Can we pick this up in the morning? I'm sleepy and I haven't had time with you all day."

"Oh, I wonder who's fault that is."

Korra playfully smacked your butt.

"Hey!" you laughed. You rubbed the area she hit. "Kor, you're heavy-handed! That hurt!"

The Avatar shrugged, humming as if she wasn't the cause of your stinging ass. "I just want cuddles. I don't see what the problem is."

With a playful eye-roll, you pinched Korra's side. "Yeah, right, Avatar. Go to bed."

"Only in your arms."

WC: 2,331

[just-jordie-things]

I have a idea so like, there this challenge, it like the kid tells their mom to shut up, and see what the dad does

And I wondering if you could do

Toji, Gojo, Geto, Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami, and who whoever else u want to do

Hopefully you like the idea thank you!

definitely some crack head canons but i love crack content and barely write it myself so lets go for it !!

FUSHIGURO TOJI

as annoyed as you'd be with your kid for being disrespectful, you're instantly scooping up the brat and holding them to your chest bc toji is booking it from across the house.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY YOU LITTLE SHIT?"

your kid is crying instantly (from guilt- bc they know better than to talk to you that way- and now their dad is going to going to raise hell)

they're wailing about how sorry they are- "I didn't mean it mommy!" over and over- it's almost annoying

toji thinks that must come from you because where else would the brat learn to take accountability pfft

he probably stuffs their mouth with soap and they'll never speak to you that way again.

GETO SUGURU

in an au where geto isn't a mass murderer...

if he hears your child tell you to shut up, he instinctively straightens up and tells them to "knock it off!" in that classic dad tone

probably goes for a time out session- but if your kid's especially bratty then he's gonna make their life hell. by that i mean the most brutal torture of all- no phone, no tv, and no hanging out with friends for the week. *shiver*

but your kid's a good kid, they just had a nasty moment and let their words get ahead of them. so that night they're knocking at our door and telling you they're sorry.

geto doesn't want to lift the grounding, but you're a fair ruler in this household and grant your kid their little freedoms :)

GOJO SATORU

just for kicks- this one will be megumi centered, bc i love bratty little megumi heh heh heh

when he tells you to shut up, he hadn't even thought twice about it. it's not like he had a filter.

he also hadn't really meant it, it was sarcastic of course, because megumi actually liked you- but he'd never admit it.

(you were the lesser of two evils when it came to gojo)

but the words come out and in the next second he's dangling in the air, suspended there with Gojo's hand firmly wrapped around his ankle.

you're squealing, scolding the childish man to "put him down!" but he's not listening.

the brat tried to hurt your honor after all. and he must defend it.

"apologize to my wife, brat! or face punishment"

("i'm not your wife, satoru" "hush, wife" *eye roll*)

megumi's thrashing around, little fists swinging and missing as he tries to attack the blindfolded idiot

"go on. keep fighting. all the blood will rush to your lil' noggin and then you'll pass out. i'm sure that's a pleasant feeling"

you can't stand by and let this go on, so with a sigh you pull megumi away from satoru, and place him upright on the ground

"those techniques may work on other eight year olds, 'gumi, but you'll have to try harder if you want to take on a big oaf like him"

"hey!"

"okay" megumi agrees with a nod, before mumbling an apology for his previous rudeness, and running off with pink cheeks.

CHOSO

as soon as the kid says it-

blank stare.

the table you'd previously been eating dinner at goes completely silent, with your kid and Choso trapped in their eye contact

you also don't know what to say, so you're also trapped in this silence

your kid's eyes are round, huge, blown wide with fear. a deer caught in headlights.

and choso's expression is perfectly neutral, not a single crease or twitch giving in to any sort of expression.

it's more menacing than a sneer.

if you'd been chewing, you'd be choking by now.

at first, your kid's so quiet that you don't realize they're speaking, until choso's voice comes out, clear and monotone.

"properly, now"

your kid turns to you, their face laced with guilt for being so rude to you.

"i'm sorry, mommy, i didn't mean it"

"better" choose huffs

"it's alright, little one," you assure them kindly. "i forgive you"

the awkwardness lasts for the rest of dinner, but that's just chose being protective and wanting his kid to learn their manners

RYOMEN SUKUNA

sorry but your kid is gone ¯\ (ツ) /¯

he'll get you another one.

NANAMI KENTO

oof. this man is going to deliver a three hour lecture on respecting parents, respecting women, and respecting you specifically.

your kid probably doesn't even remember why they'd said it by the time he's done.

it's the perfect punishment really. your kid walks away learning something and also goes straight to bed because now it's quite late.

he's proud of himself ofc, he's done a good thing. he made a good move as a father and also made sure your kid knew just how much to value and respect you.

you- who's asleep at the table because maybe his lecture was a little too much.

oh well, he thinks as he carries you to bed. surely your kid will tell you all about it tomorrow when they apologize.

[russellsppttemplates]

hi I love your writing so much

can u write a blurb of max and Julia and fin where they got in trouble at school and reader and max got called called for a parent’s meeting

Cw: kid being bullied

Note: thank you ✨️

"Did you notice anything weird lately?", you asked Max as he parked the car, "nope, they have been fine, they don't complain about anything, I'm not sure why they did this", he said, holding your hand once you were out of the car and walking into the school. After a quick chat with the secretary at the front to let the principal know you were there, you were welcomed to the office, Julia and Finn sitting in the chairs, feet swinging since they couldn't reach the floor.

"Thank you for coming", the principal said, shaking your and Max's hand, "I think it's best if they explains why I called you here", he said, sitting down as you did the same, facing your kids.

"We were in the playground, and we noticed there was a group of boys being mean to Lyla - she's the new girl I told you about, mama -, and they were calling her those words you told us were mean and bad", Julia said, "so I went up to Finn and his friends because I thought they could help since the boys calling her names were from the year behind them", your daughter reasoned.

"I went there with my friends to talk and then they took our football", Finn continued, "because of that, I tried to go get the ball back and when the other boy wad dribbling away from me, I ran and I nudged the ball as he was kicking it so the ball went on the window and it shattered", Finn said.

By the way your husband was closing his fists, you figured he was thinking about the same things and worried about the same issue as you, a different worry from the principal it seemed.

"I know I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry that I broke the window", Finn turned to the principal, "and I'm sorry if we disappointed you, but we wasn't going to let them carry on!", Julia reasoned as you and Max looked at both of them.

"We have also spoken to the other kids' parents, you were the last ones. Fortunately, it was the cleaning supplies' closet and no ine was there, so no one got hurt", the principal attempted to gain your attention as you both kept looking at your kids.

"Both me and my wife appreciate you telling us, but the only issue here is that you're allowing this in your school. We can pay for the window if that is your problem, but I'd like you to reflect on the whole situation", Max stated calmly.

"As you can imagine, we don't always have control of everything", the principal excused himself.

"Me or my husband won't apologise for what happened. Like you said, no one was harmed, but you should look into paying more attention to Lyla, it's not the first time it was brought to my attention that the little girl is being bullied and no adult seems to be worried about it, when that is in fact where your worry should be", you followed, tone stern and convict.

Leaving the money they asked for the repair, you and Max split up to go with each kid to their classrooms and get their backpacks, "I'm sorry they were mean Lyla, my love, but you did well in defending hour friend, it's a shame they didn't listen to you", you said as you looked at Finn towards the end of the sentence.

"It's not fair", Finn complained, "this principal isn't nice, I don't like him", he pouted.

"Finn, sometimes things don't go our way, and we shouldn't say that about people, okay?", Max lectured as he drove home, squeezing your thigh ans whispering, "as much as I believe what I just said, I have to agree. Since they changed principal, the priorities have been a bit all over tha place", he commented, "might be a good time to reconsider schools", you noted.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[inlovewhithafairytale]

01 x 01 Pilot part 1

"You're waiting in the car" is the first thing Dean says when he parks the '67 Chevy Impala in front of the apartments where their brother lived.

Yn scrunched up her nose and furrowed her eyebrows "dude. Why?"

"Cause I say so"

"Why do you get to see him before me? Its not fair" Yn says not backing up as her oldest brother got out of the car.

"Just stay in the car" Dean says slamming the car door shut behind him and making his way to the apartments.

The 15 year old leaned back against the car seat crossing her arms over her chest with a pout "not fair" she mumbled to herself.

****

Yn had nodded off to sleep resting her head against the car window as she waited for her brothers hoping that Sam would go with them.

"Why did you even leave her in the car?" Sam asked Dean as he walked next to him to the parking lot.

"She was sleeping" Dean lied. Truth be told, he didn't want Yn to get her hopes up to Sam coming, he knew that she missed their brother horribly and had cried herself to sleep when he first went away to Stanford.

Yn woke up to her brothers voices and the sound of the cars trunk being open. She grinned widely when she heard Sam's voice and quickly opened the car door and rushed to Sam jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly as she let out a series of happy squeals.

"Sammy I missed you so fucking much" she said as Sam laughed hugging her tightly back and giving her a spin before setting her back on the ground.

"I missed you so much too Yn. Wow, you've grown so much!" Sam looked her up and down a smile on his face as he looked at his little sister.

"Yeah. She turned 15 two months ago" Dean cut in a with an edge to his words.

"Dean. I know" Sam answered glaring slightly at his brother.

"But that doesn't matter. We're here" Yn cut in giving Dean a reproach in her look, turning back to Sam "so...are you coming with us to search for dad?" She asked him eyes begging him to come.

"Yes, but i have to be back by Monday" came Sam's reply as he ruffled her hair up a bit.

Yn pouted a bit at his words "oh well I guess"

"Yn, get back in the car" Dean told her.

"Why?" She asked turning to him eyebrows furrowed.

"I want to talk with Sam and you're on the way. Car. Now" Dean said closing the back of the car.

Yn have a dramatic sight "fine...." she muttered and got back in the car arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. When she walked behind Dean she stuck her tongue out at him making Sam stifle a laugh.

***

Dean knocked on the car window of the backseat startling Yn awake who sat up from the seat rubbing her eyes "what? Where are we?" She said groaning as she opened the car door.

"On our way to Jericho right now on a gas stop. Go to the bathroom" Dean said handing her a bottle of pear juice and a bag of cheese puffs "breakfast" he said simply and turning to Sam who was sitting shotgun he gestured to the other bag of chips he was holding"breakfast?"

Sam scoffed "no. How do you even give that to Yn?"

"Eh. I'm used to it." Yn said shrugging as Dean glared at his brother. Yn out her bag of chips and bottle of juice down on the leather seat and got out of the car stretching "I'm going to the bathroom" she said groaning a bit and walking past Dean into the small gas stop.

"How do you even buy stuff? Still on the credit card schemes?" Sam asked knowingly.

"Well, hunting isn't exactly a paying job" Dean shrugged as he walked to the other side of the car and got into the drivers seat.

"What names did you use this time?"

"Bert Afrahiam and his loving kids Hector and Evangeline Afrahiam" came the smug reply.

Sam gave a snort and a shake of his head turning his attention back to the cassette collection box Dean had "dude. You need to update your cassette collection. Black Sabath? Metallica? Ac/Dc? Who even listen to those anymore?"

"House rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" Dean said taking one of the cassettes and putting it on the radio.

"Sammy it's a chubby 8 hear old. Its Sam."

"Sorry. Can't hear you. Music's too loud" Dean said as he turned the music up, back in black playing loudly through the speakers.

The backseat door opened and Yn slipped in wincing slightly at the loud music. "Dude. Lower it down a little"

"House rules booger driver picks the music and-" Dean start again as he drove away from the gas station.

"Yeah but backseat gets to lower the music. Tune it down a bit, I've got a headache" Yn said rolling her eyes a bit at him

Dean complies and puts the volume down just a little.

Sam turns to her a bit of concern flashing through his face "you've got a headache?"

"No. But I'll get one if Dean keeps putting the music so loud"yn answered

Dean rolled her eyes at her through the rear view mirror "just eat your vegetables"

"Yeah dad..." yn said mockingly as she opened her bag of cheese puffs and started eating.

***

Part two ... Flashbacks.a.k.a. younger years before season 1

if any of you have any ideas I am all ears <333

[blacktacmopsi]

The NSFW Alphabet: Keegan Russ Platinum Collector's Edition

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

A- Aftercare (What does it look like?)

Keegan is great at this...in his own way. He'll hold you close as you come down and just remain silent listening to your breathing and heartbeat. He'll cradle you against him enjoying the soothing silence.

B- Body count (How many people have they fucked)

Not many. Keegan is about quality not quantity. Couple this with his personality of not being social, his numbers are VERY low.

C- Cum (Where do they do it? How much is there?)

Keegan likes his creampies. If you let him, he'll give you a good one and boy, will it be a CREAM pie indeed. His production is thick and he might ask you if he can look at it and admire it. He thinks you look very beautiful with it in you.

D- Daydreaming (How often do they find themselves having dirty (day)dreams about their partner)

Keegan sometimes daydreams about his partner if he's feeling particularly horny. If he's single, he'll just daydream about sex or masturbating.

E- Emotion (Do they fuck when angry? Excited? Do they get emotional after?)

Oh, does Keegan love the emotional side of sex. He likes the eroticism that can be built. He could best be described as a black hole or whirlpool when it comes to his emotional intensity- building and building before it becomes very intense that you're just sucked in completely in the feelings he can coax out of you. He's not the kind to hate fuck or anything like that. At most, he might get a bit handsy if he's pent up after coming home from a deployment.

F- Famous (Would they ever be a camgirl/boy? How popular would their channel be?)

Absolutely not. Keegan isn't social so showing his ass or dick on camera to randos is never going to happen.

G- Goated (What are they the absolute best at?)

Dirty talk! Keegan can make you cum with his sexy ass voice telling you some of the he dirtiest things you've ever heard. Get ready because his words are a real panty dropper.

H- Hair (How much do they shave? Does the carpet match the drapes? Do they mind hair on their partner?)

Keegan is never bare fully. He bounces between manscaping and letting it all grow out. All his body hair is black like the hair on his head and he totally doesn't mind his woman being in her natural state. He kind of digs it.

I- Intimacy (How intimate are they during it?)

Very. As mentioned, Keegan prefers the more emotional side of sex and with this comes a deep intimacy. He's not the kind to do one night stands but would definitely bare his soul to you in a committed relationship in the bedroom.

J-  Joking (How serious are they during the deed?)

This can vary. Keegan isn't allways Mr. Super Serious. He can get playful and silly but it all depends on his mood.

K- Kinks (Their five biggest)

Though he's not one for straight up kinks he does have some things he really likes.

Creampies: He REALLY likes cumming in you. He'll want to see it drip out and he might even push it back in with his fingers.

Mutual masturbation: If you are in a well established relationship with Keegan, he'll want to watch some porn with you and go downtown to rub town. He'll either do it to you or you both sit next to each other and do it to yourselves.

Sensual massage. He's not opposed to doing this as a form of foreplay. Plus, it feels really good both giving and receiving.

Dirty talk. Tell him the filthiest things you can. If you can get him groaning with your words, you're golden.

Oral. Suck this man's dick, now! He'll roll over for you if you give him a stellar BJ Blazkowicz.

L- Location (Where are they down to fuck?)

Really anywhere private and away from the public eye. Ideally Keegan likes to get jiggy with it in the confines of his home. But if the armory is empty on base and you're both in the mood then it's fair game.

M- Music (Do they like to listen to songs during the deed? If so what ones?)

Dragula by Rob Zombie on repeat. Just kidding. Keegan prefers the natural sounds of love making and fucking. Let him hear those moans and whimpers and he'll contribute his as well making a symphony of sexual pleasure.

N- No (Something they would never do).

Keegan isn't into anything that would deal with body fluids like shit and piss. He also is not down for sex regarding things that are too out there for his square ass. Dressing as clowns? Age play? Diapers? Licking batteries? Hard pass! In fact, don't bring the unusual to the bedroom with him.

O- Orgy (Will they ever have group sex? If so with who?)

Hell no! Keegan? Mr. Not-very-social- around- people? You have a higher chance of meeting bigfoot before you see his glorious dick in an orgy. 

P- Position (What position do they favorite? Are they the giver/receiver in the position?)

Keegan is not picky about positions but he does have a soft spot for Cowgirl because he likes to see you and your body fully. Really, he's both a giver & receiver depending on the position and the mood of what's going on.

Q- Quirks (Do they have any weird traits in bed?)

He might request to keep the skull mask on. Wheather this is a joke or not is unknown.

R- Rough (What’s their pace?)

Keegan can get rough if you can coax that side of him out. If you're having the deep, erotic sex with him then the pace is slow and intense. If you're having a good fuck with him, it will go fast.

S- Stamina (How many rounds can they last?)

It ain't what it used to be. He's at that point in his life where, depending, he could either go again for a round two or sleep...and sleep is probably the more likely outcome.

T- Toys (Do they use em? What ones? On their partner or themselves?)

Keegan isn't one for toys. He's old school with his hand. If you bring a toy to use in the bedroom, he'll use it on you if you request.

U- Urgent (Their opinions on quickies)

Keegan would rather not. It's rare that he does a quicky these days opting to have a long intimate session.

V- Volume (How loud are they in bed?)

Oh pookies, he is a moaner and a groaner and a talker. HE. IS. VOCAL.

W- WorldWideWeb (What sex things have they googled? What’s their porn history?)

Keegan has a few porn bookmarks saved. A few are good creampie vids and others are things like shower sex.

X- Xtra (A fun lil random fact)

Keegan once read an erotic novel and he loved it. It's something he'll never admit to.

Y- Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Well, Keegan is a man so it skews high. But he is in his late thirties so it's not like it was when he was in his twenties. His drive is healthy for a man his age.

Z- Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

These days, Keegan can knock out after pretty quickly. But he is considerate and will spoon with you as he drifts off to slumberland.

No pressure tags: Whoever sees this :)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

So I’m mostly curious about this for Muriel’s sake (he’s my favorite) but I have an HC request for if the M6, whether through a dream or magic, got to talk with their past selves from the darkest point in their lives, what would they say? Try to comfort/cheer themselves up? Assuming everyone got their Upright endings.

The Arcana HCs: M6 talking to their past selves

~ this is such an interesting one, @httyd-chocolate! thank you for the request, I hope you like what I do with it! (for hc purposes, this occurs as a magical dream where past and present selves interact) - brainrot ~

Julian

The dream is so vivid that he doesn't realize what it is until it's over

But right now, he's staring down at this gangly, scared, insecure almost-teenager, and every heroic bone in his body is telling him that this boy deserves all the safety and support in the world

It's weird to hear his young self saying the same deprecating things that he still does, but the jokes that normally make him laugh don't sound funny at all coming from a kid

And before he knows it, all the words he's heard you and Portia and Mazelinka say to him are spilling out of his mouth

"You're not alone. People are fortunate to be around you. You only drag everyone around you down when you refuse to let them lift you up. Sticking around to see the future is worth it."

At the same time, seeing himself in that kid's eyes is world-altering

Because to that younger self, the man he is now is smart, and heroic, and important, and somebody worth growing up to be

They stroll down to the seaside, at one point, as Julian listens to tiny Ilya's frustrations with his sister, and himself, and not knowing who he is or what comes next besides a call away from home

"You're pretty cool, mister," Ilya says at one point, "who are you?"

"I'm you," Julian says, and the look of hope and surprised delight he sees on Ilya's face makes him wake up with tears in his eyes

Asra

They know where they are as soon as the back alleys of the South End swim into view. They don't expect to see themself though

He's caught glimpses of the past once or twice, with you by his side, but those were moments of a childhood of wonder and escape. The kid in front of him hasn't found that magic yet

Little Asra is hiding in a corner behind a trash heap, clutching their lost mother's shawl and trying to hide the sniffles that shake their thin shoulders. Though all that disappears when they spot Big Asra

Suddenly, he's being scrutinized with the most curious gaze, and there's no hiding who he is. So he joins hands with him and starts wandering around, paying for lots of street food along the way

They'd forgotten how many questions they used to ask people

Until one hits him out of nowhere: "what's it like for us now?"

They don't want to leave that scared, lonely kid without something to look forward to, so they play with the dream a bit and lead Little Asra to a familiar magic shop a few streets away from the town square

In the dream, you're dozing by the fire, tea and snacks waiting on the table, and Big Asra watches his child self gaze at you in awe and remember what home feels like

It's sobering, to lead that child back to the docks and tuck them in to sleep under the pier, but it's a glimpse of warmth they're glad they got to share

Nadia

She has a suspicion of what's going on when she opens her eyes in her childhood bedroom, and that suspicion is confirmed when her 14-year-old self storms in and slams the door shut

She's ready to provide a haven. A listening ear. Ready to tell the young woman in front of her that she's right, that she's ready for more, that being held back and dismissed like this really isn't fair

Until the 14-year-old opens her mouth and starts to unload her day

For the first time in years, Nadia's not sure what to say. Does she want to tell this young woman that she's right, her parents and older sisters are being overprotective and unreasonable? Yes!

But does she find herself agreeing that a 14-year-old should not be allowed to go off to the battlefield her older sibling is serving as a medic on to lead the army to victory herself? ... yes ...

Does the embarrassed, hurting, angry teen in front of her need to know that? Absolutely not. So Nadia listens and nods instead

There are other things she sees that she realizes she remembers correctly. The fear of not measuring up. The frustration of having to wait to meet the milestones her siblings have already passed

So she tells this precocious, prickly young woman what you've been seeing in her all along: she is strong. She is smart. She is someone worth having faith in, and she doesn't need to be afraid

Muriel

He doesn't have to think twice. As soon as he sees that big, bony lad that was himself in his early twenties, huddled in a cell under the Coliseum after his first fight, he's breaking him out of there

He starts to wonder if this is a dream, when the iron bars give way under his grasp, but he's focusing on wrapping his cloak around those shivering shoulders and leading him out of the city

He's forgotten how scrawny he'd been before he bulked up on the meals provided for Lucio's prized fighter, and seeing spatters of his first opponent's blood on such a boyish face breaks his heart

They're both silent on the way through the woods. The younger him is still in shock, and the older him isn't sure what to do next

When the reach the clearing, the hut is more like what older him is used to. He helps young Muriel into the outside bath and begins putting together a hearty stew for the two of them to share

They both stay quiet. Older him watches every flinch and start and quiet pause of happiness and safety and keeps realizing that he deserves better. He deserves good things. I want him to have that.

They both turn bright red when younger him notices that the bed has two pillows on it, but they both know that that's a good thing

When the time comes for them to wake up, Muriel wraps that kid up in his arms. "... it gets better. Promise. You deserve it."

Portia

This is trippy, but after what she's been through with you, Portia guesses this is just par for the course. Why is she in Nevivon?

Her question is answered when a nine-year-old girl comes careening around the corner, fiery curls flying, just in time to collide with her and go sprawling in the dust by the road

Oh, Portia thinks, I remember being like this. I remember her.

Portia watches Pasha pick herself up, lower lip trembling with rage and eyes full of tears, getting ready to lash out at whoever just ripped her dress and made her day go from awful to terrible

And she pulls that little girl into the tightest hug she can manage

Once Pasha's made good use of the handkerchief she's been handed, she takes Portia's hand and shows her around town

She tells Portia all about her life right now. About the grandmas who take care of her, and the parents she doesn't remember

And she talks and talks and talks about her amazing older brother, the last family she has, who left several months ago to explore the world and find adventure and save people - without her

Portia listens and comments, but she keeps getting distracted looking at the strong, clear-eyed, purposeful little girl next to her

So she spends the rest of her visit telling that kid that she's strong, she's interesting, she's exciting, and she is so, so very important, even when it's just her

Lucio

He's back in the frozen woods. He doesn't like the frozen woods

And neither, apparently, does the six year old boy across from him

At first he's just concerned. Why is a small child alone in the freezing cold? He needs to help them get safe and warm

Then he recognizes the golden head of hair, and the big, silver eyes staring up at him, and the nose red from cold, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from yelling as he starts a fire and asks for a name

He likes having a different name, he realizes, when he gets to introduce himself as Lucio the Adventurer to little Montag

Montag, he learns, is alone on a quest to hunt down a bear per his mother's instructions, but he's cold and hungry and frightened

To Montag, Lucio is a hero. He's big and strong and has a cool arm and builds a fire to keep him warm and listens to him talk about how he wants to be a leader when he grows up, without scoffing at his dreams

So the two of them huddle together by the fire under one of the trees, sharing a cloak and talking about who they are

Lucio hears the beginnings of his downfall already in Montag's stories about growing up stronger than everyone so the people in his family and his tribe will have no choice but to praise him

And Montag hears humility and hope from Lucio, about the importance of recognizing mistakes and learning to love and be loved

[vigarioamelia]

there are a lot of tragic characters in elden ring (pretty much everyone lol) but godwyn exudes a kind of Shakespearean tragedy that just makes me feel so bad for him

godwyn the... betrayed

do you guys remember that trend? jupiter was supposed to be a star but failed?

alexa, play the old doll audio

i'll be talking a lot about godwyn so uh big words trigger warning i guess

Godwyn the Golden, the first child of Godfrey and Queen Marika the Eternal and also the first Demigod known to ever perish.

He was the first descendant of the Golden Line and one of his traits is *literally* being friends with dragons.

Whenever he's mentioned, grief is involved. Both the grief of a Mother and the grief of the people.

He was part of the Golden Order, but we know for a fact he was no maniac for its fundamentals, given the genuine bond he had with Fortissax, for example.

I know we can't really Know this stuff but come on, Godwyn seemed like a certified Big Bro™. He gives the feeling of how pure a person should be. Royal blood – of the purest kind! From the lore we have of him, it appears that he really was The ideal prince.

I like to believe he was particularly fond of the Omen Twins and that, even though they grew up in completely opposite worlds from each other, he was always sort of There. Better than Marika, that's for sure. Just imagine big bro Godwyn taking his baby bros for a tour around the capital. They spend the entire day running around and Godwyn looks so peaceful that the twins can't help but feel that too, if only for a moment.

Not to mention the tender relationship he probably had with the cursed twins.

When Godwyn's spirit was slayed during the Night of the Black Knives, he received a fate worse than death itself: the curse of living in Death.

He who should be crowned golden as the Lord among them all was crowned in ruin as the Prince of Death.

Godwyn will not only never die, but he will never live again. His existence is a terror that punishes the roots of the Erdtree, a thing that not even Miquella was able to stop or help in any way.

This once sweet and kind and beautiful lord is now nothing but a creature spreading across the land.

When both Miquella and Fortissax failed to give him a proper death and rest, what then remained of his body was laid under the roots of the Erdtree. A bit fair, isn't it? First of the Demigod, ruined and buried under the Erdree, where he will slowly but certainly cause destruction and despair all across the land, bringing death to all it touches.

It kills me that the place where he's buried is so dark and lonely and scary. The Godwyn before the Rune of Death was assured to have dozens if not hundreds of statues and paintings and churches and whatever to honor him.

But Godwyn the Golden ceased to exist. There's no one left to adore or admire or cherish. The only thing left is Godwyn the Prince of Death.

He's now worshipped by the undead, Those Who Live in Death, as D calls them. Is there a more tragic end for a royal who was once beloved all across a golden capital?

The only way to change his fate is to make things even WORSE.

Restore the Elden Ring with the Rune of Death and he supposedly comes back again, but. Oh. My. Fucking. God. I would literally go fucking insane if I first opened my eyes to the world I cherished and grew up on completely destroyed by MYSELF without my damn consent.

If he became Prince of Death by his own choice? Fucking sexy. I would support him. SLAY (literally).

But this? My man was ROBBED.

Imagine being "reborn" (in death) and realizing that EVERYONE from your life is dead. The place where you ran around as a kid? Fucking demolished, DIRTY with ashes. ASHES OF DEAD PEOPLE.

AND YOU'RE THEIR MONARCH.

There's NOTHING to rule and most of all THERE'S NOTHING TO PROTECT.

Literally the worst thing that could happen to a dude.

look what the fuck they did to my baby holy shit there truly wasn't enough room for a blonde twink in the lands between was there

Ohh... Oh,  Lord Godwyn... Such cruelty, such humiliation... My poor, sweet lordling should have died a true death. As the first of the demigods to die. As a martyr to Destined Death. But why must it yet bring such disgrace? A scion of the golden bough, sentenced to live in Death...

i really only have two things left to say:

1. godwyn was too sexy to be in the game so miyazaki gave him the worst fate known to humanity (godhood?)

2. this happened to my buddy eric

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

What's the occasion?

Masterlist

A/N: What this was supposed to be: A fluffy comfort fic about reader's husband taking care of her after a rough day/week/month. What this isn't: A fluffy comfort fic about read.... you get me.

What this somehow ended up being: A not-so-fluffy not-so-comfort (?) fic about reader's husband taking real good care of her after a rough day/week/month.

You're welcome, I think? (I honestly don't have a clue how this ended up being some of the smuttiest smut I've written to date... But it happened... I'm not even going to question it.)

Pairing: Syverson x reader (you)

Summary: You come home from a terrible day at work, thinking you have about a thousand things still on your to do list, only to find your husband has taken care of all of that, and has also made you the first thing on his to do list.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex, Sy being all dominant and massive, some light (yes, really) throatfucking, hair pulling, manhandling. Some of this can probably be considered blasphemy.

Also, fair warning: this story contains a man doing household chores without having been (explicitly) asked to do so. Just... Bear with me. I know it's not realistic, but we're here to have fun, right?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

Parking your husband’s truck in your driveway is an absolute nightmare. It takes you twenty minutes and a breakdown – during which you fight yourself over whether or not to just go inside and ask him to park his stupid car for you – but you eventually manage. Now, it’s time to go inside, after the longest day at the office in the history of long ass days at the office, and do the six million other things that come for free with having a house, husband, and kids. Dishes. Laundry. Dinner. That stuff.

You toss your bag down on the bench next to the front door and put your coat on the overflowing coat rack six times – it keeps coming down because for some reason, your teen daughter owns 12 jackets, yet she still always asks to borrow yours seconds before telling you that all of your clothes suck – before you finally give up and leave it where it falls.

It takes you a minute to realize that you smell food. With three kids and your mountain of a husband, that can only really mean one thing: someone got hungry, your plans for dinner are now in ruins and your kitchen looks like an episode of Hoarders. And even though those are your expectations, your family still manage to exceed them every time, so God knows what you’re going to find when you round that corner and step into your kitchen...

It’s Sy. And it’s not just Sy, but it’s just Sy. Come to think of it... The whole house is suspiciously void of music, screaming or shoes scattered around for you to break your neck over.

“Where are the kids?” you ask as you walk towards Sy.

“With my mother,” he replies without turning around, “to be returned to us on Sunday night at eight, and not a second before then. Are ya goin' to make a habit of not sayin’ hello to me when you get home? ‘Cause I don’t care for it.”

“Well, excuse me for not taking the time out of my busy schedule for pleasantries, but I have a week’s worth of laundry to get to,” you snap. He doesn’t deserve it, you know that, but it’s the kind of day you’ve had, and... And it’s all on you again.

“Laundry’s done,” Sy says calmly, still not looking up from the lasagna he’s putting together.

“Oh,” you stammer. “Well, then I’ll just grab the vacuum and...”

“I did that, too.”

“Alright, I’ll give the garage a quick call to see if they can...”

“I changed the oil in your car this morning.”

“Groceries?”

“Done.”

“The bathroom?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve obviously got a handle on dinner...” You have to admit it: you’re a little stumped. “What about...”

“Woman, if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ I didn’t do so you can blow up at me for it, I’ll just hand it to ya: I didn’t get to cleanin’ out the gutters today, so I’ll have to do that tomorrow.”

But you’re not planning on blowing up at him over anything...

“Well, hello Mr. Syverson,” you say, still completely in awe that your entire schedule for the night – and probably the whole weekend – just opened up. “Remind me... We got married in October, right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Syverson, we did.” He’s even less subtle than usual, skipping your hips and putting his hands on our ass right off the bat.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you chuckle. Sy pulls you in for a kiss, just passionate enough to leave you wanting more, but not so bad you beg him to take you right here on the kitchen counter. It’s a fine line, really. A tightrope you’ve tried to walk before, only to fall off on the wrong side and be late for yet another dinner with someone who was never going to be more important than having sex with your husband, anyway.

“The occasion is... You’re beautiful. You deserve it. You do so much for our family and somewhere along the lines I seem to have started takin’ that for granted. Take your pick, I’m sure there’s plenty more reasons to come up with.” He squeezes your ass. Hard. “This sensational ass could be the occasion?”

“You’re saying you got rid of the kids for the weekend and checked off my whole to do list to celebrate the existence of my ass?”

“Sugar, I celebrate the existence of that fine ass every damn day. Now, I’ve fallen a little behind on celebrating the existence of the woman attached to it... I’d like to make up for that.” There is absolutely no way you aren’t blushing right now. Sy doesn’t let go of you, but his hands move to your waist. You’re trying your best to not drown in his eyes, but you’ve been hopelessly lost in there for nearly twenty years. For a brief – but lovely – moment, you stand there, just holding each other and making eyes like you used to when you were young and in love. And young...

“This needs about half an hour in the oven, still, so how about I give you forty-five and you can take a nice, long shower?” Sy winks at you – or rather: tries to. “There’s something on the bed I’d love to take off of you later tonight, but I also understand if you just want to wear something comfortable.”

“Did you pick it?” you tease him.

“You’ll be more than happy to know that I did, but under the very strict supervision of Dana.” It seems like your dear husband has finally learned how to use the fact his best friend’s wife works in a lingerie store to his advantage… Took him long enough.

“Right on time,” Sy says as you step into the kitchen. You take the glass of wine he’s holding out to you and take a sip.

“Mmm...” The sound you make is almost a moan. One look at the bottle on the table tells you this is a really nice wine – one from a price range you can’t afford to shop at...

“Gift from a client. Walker said I could take it. I guess his wine cellar doesn’t fit any more.” Sy pulls you in for a hug. It doesn’t last long, but it’s nice, very nice.

Dinner is amazing. Sy is a great cook – when given means, motive, and opportunity – and he has prepared three courses of absolute heaven. He only has to assure you twice that the price of the ingredients won’t put your family in financial ruin.

You’re halfway through dessert – a deliciously indulgent, rich chocolate mousse you’re fairly sure he made from scratch – when you realize something.

“You can’t have done all the laundry. We don’t have the space to hang all of that...”

“I fixed the dryer,” Sy interrupts, “I’m sorry I only did that after it became a problem to me, personally.”

“That’s alright...”

“No, it ain’t,” Sy grins. He knows you.

“Very well, then. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven.” You remember the moment you knew you were going to marry this man: right after your first fight – he had been wrong, although you can’t remember what he’d been wrong about. It had had something to do with your mother. Either way, right after that fight, he’d apologized, and for some reason the lack of excuses had made you want to jump him right where you were standing. You’d almost broken up with him when you realized you weren’t half as good at apologizing as he was.

“Alright, well,” Sy smirked, still. It was incredibly attractive, and at least as annoying. “I was planning on makin’ up for that, but now that I don’t have to…” His voice trailed off for a moment before you gently nudged his leg with your foot.

“How about we finish this bottle upstairs?” You don’t need to tell him twice: he’s on his feet before you even finish the sentence.

“You go ahead, Sugar,” he says before kissing you as gently as a giant like him can muster, “I’ll make sure this kitchen is spotless before I come up.”

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, you are killing me.”

“Oh,” Sy adds with a grin on his face, “and you were right. The vacuum cleaner sucks, we need a new one.”

“Say that again…”

“The vacuum cleaner sucks?” He knows damn well which part you’re referring to. That wasn’t it.

“Before that.”

“Ah. You were right.”

“You have ten minutes to get to bed, or I’m starting without you,” you tease, knowing very well he wouldn’t mind one bit if you did start before he got there.

Sy is impatient as ever when he finally steps into your bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head before the door even shuts behind… Alright, maybe the door doesn’t close because he just leaves it wide open.

“Sy! Close the door!” you shriek, but he just takes a few more steps until he’s right next to the bed.

“Why? Kids ain’t home. We’re alone, we don’t need to close the door,” he says as he pushes you back onto the mattress. “We don’t gotta be quiet, either.” With a devilish grin on his face, he kisses you. First your lips, then your neck. His beard doesn’t tickle – not after all these years. He shaved it off once, only to immediately get on growing it back, because you wouldn’t give him any. You move your hands through the hair on his chest while Sy roughly pulls your shirt over your head. He groans appreciatively when the bra he picked out for you appears.

“Do you like it?” he asks. He doesn’t have the greatest track record when it comes to picking stuff that’s actually to your tastes, but you’d be lying if those items didn’t have their own special little drawer – that you definitely haven’t opened in far too long…

“I do,” you purr into his ear, biting your lip when he grinds his hips into you. He’s hard, seeking friction, release. You love when he gets this worked up over you. “You did a good job.”

“Hm,” he growls, “I didn’t like it at first. Thought it was kinda boring.” That’s not what you want to hear… It’s a good thing he opens his mouth again to continue: “But now that it’s your tits in there… Can’t decide if I wanna keep it on ya or rip it off…” To your surprise, he opts for the former, making sure to kiss every inch of skin that’s newly available to him as he makes his way down your stomach, dragging you to the edge of the bed as he goes along.

He can do it within minutes. Making you come on his tongue, that is. He never does, because the smug fucking bastard likes teasing you too much to ever give you what you want – nay, need – that quickly. That patience, however, is nowhere to be found when it comes to taking your clothes off. He admires you and your new underwear for maybe five seconds, and then your panties are somewhere in the room. No, you don’t care where, exactly.

“Fuck, Sugar, you’re beautiful,” Sy growls from between your legs. “I’ve missed this sweet little cunt.” His words used to startle you so bad you asked him to stop talking multiple times when you’d first started going out. Now, they just make you blush, and they make you wet, and that’s all that you need from him right now. Sometimes, you’re still grateful for the moments he can’t speak – when his mouth is otherwise occupied, so to speak. It’s the moaning, and growling, and the grunts and obscene slurping – hideous word, but sadly the only applicable description – sounds that get you. It’s the pleasure, and the way he knows exactly how and when and where to move his tongue to make you squirm, moan, and scream in his strong arms. Unfortunately, he still isn’t exactly at that point. He’s still teasing, and you’re still whining, and no one is coming.

In no time, you’re going nuts. It’s not bad enough to speak up. And by that you mean: beg him to finally eat you in that way you both know makes you see stars and seek God and scream His name – or Sy’s, but what difference does that make, anyway? Instead, he keeps you right there, at the point where you’re just invested enough in the fantastic feeling that you want to be consumed by it, but it just isn’t enough to keep you from getting distracted. By the feeling of his beard against the inside of your thighs. By the fact that your panties somehow ended up on the lamp on his bedside table. By the gentle pulsing of the vein in his forearm your finger currently rests on. And he keeps you there, and keeps you there until you’ve almost convinced yourself you’ve gotten so used to this – to him – that he can’t do it anymore, forgetting that he really isn’t even trying. That twenty years of ‘this’, whatever the fuck that may mean, just means that he’s found so many different ways to take care of you that he couldn’t go through all of them in one night even if you could physically take it, simply because he’d run out of time before he made it halfway through the list.

And when you get there, to that point where you start thinking he might just not be as good as he used to, you’ve lost. Because from then on, it’s a minute. Thirty seconds. Maybe even twenty, or ten, or less – not that you’d know, because you couldn’t count to three anymore if you tried.

“Darlin’, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he mutters, never taking his lips off your skin completely. His fingers tease your entrance, pads coarse and calloused. It appears that, even after all these years, you still haven’t learned that if your mouth won’t beg, your body will. Unconsciously, you angle your hips, lean into his touch, use your legs to pull him closer – and he answers. As always. Sy knows what you want, and he doesn’t think twice to give it to you, even if – possibly especially when – what you really want isn’t what you think you want. He’ll know, just like he’ll know exactly when his name is on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released along with everything he’s building up inside of you.

A loud moan escapes you when his fingers curl inside you, diligently working the perfect spot while his tongue laps at your clit, looking for the perfect move, speed, pressure, everything, until you shriek the words ‘oh God, Sy, don’t stop’, or you gasp, or moan – or one of the million other ways in which you tell him what needs done without saying a single word. And he doesn’t stop. Not until he unravels you completely. Not until you remember why you normally close and lock that door and keep quiet. Not until you know with every fiber of your being that he holds back, and he reminds you of everything he’s capable of.

When he comes back up, caging your body in between his strong arms and broad chest, pinning you down on the mattress, you hope he’s had enough time to catch his breath, because you immediately pull him into a long, deep kiss that says more than just ‘I missed you’. If it was at all possible to stress every syllable of a sentence, now would be the time. But who’s got time for talking when that impatient bulge grinds between your legs, the heavy, coarse fabric of Sy’s jeans harsh against your sensitive skin.

You push against his shoulders – it’s usually pointless, but he seems to have grown at least as impatient as you have, so he gets up. Four hands reach for his belt. You always make a great team, but this is madness, and neither of you are surprised you don’t get anything done this way.

“Move those hands if you wanna keep ‘em, Syverson,” you say with a sly smile on your face. He grits his teeth when you look up at him – it’s one of the things you know he loves to hate, because it drives him insane, and he doesn’t like that. Sy wants to be in control. Tough luck. Getting him naked is child’s play now that his hands aren’t in the way anymore, and you can’t stifle an appreciative moan when his cock appears in front of you.  

“I’m not saying I married you for this big dick, but it didn’t hurt your chances.” You bite your lip and look up at him. The amusement at your words fades off his face within seconds, making room for something darker and more sinister than you usually get to see.

“If you can use that mouth to talk, you can use it to suck my cock,” he says. You’ve played this game a thousand times, yet you’re still stupid enough to open your mouth in protest, and he seizes the opportunity. “That’s a good girl.” There’s a hint more… savagery to his naturally dark and gravelly voice than you’re used to hearing under normal circumstances. It’s a possessive, almost animalistic sound. It’s something that used to scare you when you were first going out. Something he didn’t let you get too closely acquainted with until he knew for sure he could trust you with that side of him – the side of him that sometimes just loves to shove his cock down your throat in one smooth thrust until you’re gagging and fighting back tears. Tonight is exactly the night you want every inch of him in the exact way you haven’t had him in for the longest time.

Your eyes beg, and once again he listens. How one man can be made up of so many contradictions, is something you’ve accepted you might never find out. ‘He gently fucks your throat.’ It sounds completely insane, but it’s possible. And you know it’s possible, because it’s happening. To you. Right now. If that weren’t the case, you probably wouldn’t have believed it yourself. He’s kind and ruthless at the same time, moving in and out of your mouth with controlled movements while moans and profanities escape him with reckless abandon. His hand is tangled in your hair, gathering a good portion of it in his fist, gripping just tight enough to remind you he’s there, but not so tight you’re in pain.

“God, baby, I love fucking this pretty li’l mouth of yours,” he says, teeth gritted, eyes closed, and the expression on his face warped in such a way that tells you it’s taking everything he’s got to keep whatever composure he has left at this stage. “But I gotta tell ya,” he continues as his breathing grows more and more ragged, a low growl barely audible on the exhale, “this ain’t what I need right now.”

He effortlessly tosses you back onto the mattress, finding his way between your legs in no time.

“Baby, I want you,” he growls before he kisses you again. “I need you. Need your tight, wet, fucking pussy around my cock right now.” He doesn’t move away from you much as he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. He’ll be deep, too deep, maybe, and you know you’ll regret this in the morning – but what good has regret ever done anyone, anyway? As he pushes into you, you realize he’s on his last bit of restraint. You take one last good look at him, because after this, it’s going to hurt so good you won’t be able to keep your eyes open for so much as a split second.

“Careful,” you chuckle, already far more out of breath than you like to admit, “you’re too much for me.”

“What’re’ya talkin’bout, woman?” Sy grumbles. “I know you can take me.” He’s not wrong. Exhibit A would be the fact that he buried his cock in your tight pussy with that one, agonizingly slow thrust. The next one is neither slow, nor even remotely as gentle, making you moan as you pull his face down to yours and kiss him. Your legs are trembling on his shoulders within minutes, and you find yourself chanting his name religiously – making it just about the only thing in your life you’ve done in that particular manner.

“Good God, you’re amazing,” Sy growls in your ear as he bottoms out with every erratic thrust. You watch as his jaw clenches when you dig your nails into the flesh of his back, careful to avoid the scars – an unwelcome souvenir from his time in the army. Most of the memories of the times you accidentally caught one in the heat of the moment have faded away by now. It hasn’t happened in years. You could draw a map of his back: every muscle, every scar, every mark on his skin is etched into your brain, and will stay there until the day you die. He’s yours every bit as much as you’re his, although he likes to put a little more emphasis on the latter.

“Want me to fuck another baby into you?” Hearing him say that makes you realize how incredibly happy you are that he can’t make good on that threat anymore. Sy hadn’t been happy when you’d informed him that you were bestowing upon him the incredible responsibility of contraception after having baby number three, but appointments were made, surgeries were had and all was right with the world. He’d only pouted and moaned about shooting blanks for about six months until things went back to normal.

“Do your worst, big guy,” you tease. You heard his breathing when he asked his question, felt the sheen of sweat covering his whole, massive body as he continued pounding you into the mattress with the same relentless pace as before, only slightly wavering in rhythm… You pull him close, gritting your teeth to get through the cramp in your leg as the weight of Sy’s body forces your legs closer to yours. “Fill me up.”

“That was mean,” Sy mutters, out of breath.

“As if you would have lasted any longer!” you say as you slap him in the face with a pillow. “I was about to tap out, anyway.” Not one word of that is a lie. You wouldn’t have walked for a week if you’d let him keep going. It really was a good thing he was a little on edge already…  

“Fine, woman, have your victory,” he growls as he pulls you into his arms and lifts you off the bed. “Ready for another shower?”

[slxsherwriter]

Love is a Labor

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairings: Rusty Nail x Single Mother reader

Word count: 2,127

Warnings: None

Author's note: This is for @umnitsa who had asked for a second part of A Chance at New Beginnings and have it be fluff (sorry I couldn't expand on the further part of that request this was where my brain went). Have some soft, domestic Rusty.

Tagging: @tinalbion

“Are you really sure about this?” The question came for what had to be the fifteenth time in the last hour. It was coming from a place of good intentions, that much was well known. But after so many times, that raw nerve of irritation was starting to flare. 

“Yes. The answer isn't going to change. It hasn't yet, and it won't.” Your friend sighed beside you, still not convinced that this was anything other than a bad idea. A fact that had also been aired out several times over the last two days. Ever since you announced the plans to meet up with Rusty. This time with Michael in tow. 

“I just…I got a bad feeling about this guy. You've met him once, talked to him, what? Three times? And now you are going to meet him with your kid?” All good and valid points. You were thankful for the concern and the worry. It meant that she cared. What she didn't know? You had been talking with Rusty almost nightly for the past month. Yeah, you had only met with him once up until now. Maybe it was a little silly, but his presence had made you feel safe, far safer than anyone else in your life had ever managed. He had already proven himself good with Michael. So why not? Did it feel a little like a rebound after what you had gone through with your ex? Slightly. But that wasn't the point. Rusty was kind, patient, and caring. You considered him a good friend. The attraction that you had to the man that had seemingly ignited out of nowhere was just a side point. 

“I get you're worried, and I appreciate it. I really do. But there isn't anything to be worried about, okay? It's not like I'm going to meet up with him at some motel. We are meeting in a public place. You know where I'll be, and there are going to be plenty of other people around.”

“I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?" It wasn't defeat in her voice but awful close to it.

“Not a chance.” You leaned in and gave your friend a hug. “Everything's going to be just fine, okay? I know it.” The huff that came from her told you all that you needed to know; she didn't believe a word that you had said and was still going to panic over the entire thing. If it wasn't, well, she would get to say I told you so. Michael appeared in the doorway, wearing a grin and tucking his truck into the little backpack he carried everywhere. 

“Come on, mom.” There hadn't been this sort of impatience about him before. It was endearing and solidified your choice in this whole thing. “If we're late, we might miss him.”

“We aren't going to miss him, I promise.” You scooped your son up into your arms and smiled. “Got everything?” He nodded.

“You two be careful, okay?”.

“We will be. Let's get going then.” You got Michael's shoes on and tucked him up in his jacket before heading out the door and to the agreed meeting spot. Location services on your phone turned on as per the request of your friend and current roommate. 

Okay, so the meeting spot wasn't exactly largely full of people. You had opted for a park. Still a little dangerous, yes, but you truly weren't worried. Besides, it gave Michael open space to play and be away from the man if he did feel uncomfortable. He was four after all, being cramped into a coffee shop, or something of the like wasn't fair. The weather was nice enough, just on the right side of chilly and clouds provided just enough cover where the sun wasn't constantly beaming down into eyes. You had settled on a bench, letting Mike play with the trucks that he brought in the sand not too far off. 

“Excuse me, that seat taken?” The low, gravelly voice was one you could recognize in your sleep by now. 

“Well, I was saving it for someone,” you offered back, looking up at the towering figure with a grin. You couldn't entirely see his face from how he was standing, hat keeping half of his face shielded. “But, I guess I could offer it. You seem like a nice man.”

“Very kind of you.” Rusty moved to settle on the bench beside you. Not close enough that he was pressed against your side but enough that you could feel the heat radiating from the man. A pleasant feeling. “How are you doing today, darling?”

“I'm good. How are you?” He looked tired. Had he come right from the road here? You wouldn't have been surprised. From your understanding, he lived further south on a nice quiet piece of land. It sounded like a little slice of heaven, if you could be honest. That felt like too much to say to the man, though, so it was a thought you kept to yourself. His eyes found you before flicking briefly to Michael. 

“Got nothing to complain about.” Michael looked up and saw the man sitting beside you, and all else was immediately forgotten about, trucks abandoned in the sand to run over to you both. 

“Are you Rusty?” Rusty leaned forward just a little bit, elbows resting against his knees. 

“I am. You must be Michael.” Your son beamed at the recognition, lightly bouncing on his feet.

“Do you really drive a big truck?” Rusty chuckled softly at the eager question that came. Thankfully, he didn't seem bothered that Michael had launched right into the questioning. Others may have been. 

“I do. Even drove it here. If your ma says it's, we can go look at it.” Michael's eyes widened almost impossibly large before his head whipped to you. 

“Can we mom? Please?” He had never been in a real truck before. You could hear your friends voice screaming in your head about how terrible an idea it was, but at the same time, you truly felt no danger from the man and trusted that everything would be safe. There was also a worry that if you denied his request, the poor boy might just have spontaneous combust. There was a risk of that happening, too, with you agreeing. But it was a far better risk. 

“Of course, but you have to listen to everything he says, okay? I don't want you getting hurt because you are so excited.”

“I promise.” 

“No better time than now. Whatcha think, big man?” Michael was ecstatic, and the yes that came was both enthusiastic and loud. “Go get your stuff, and we'll go look at my truck.” If it had been a cartoon, there would have been burn marks trailing behind him. You couldn't help the small laugh and fond shake of your head. Your son was something else. 

“I think you might have made his year.” He was leaning back, and before you knew it, his arm was around your shoulders. Heavy but fully pleasant. A sensation that you could get used to quickly. 

“Now I just need to find out how to make yours.” The flirting tease had heat rising to your cheeks. There wasn't a quick response to that, and the floundering surely had to be clear to him. His warm breath ghosted over your cheek as his lips briefly pressed to the skin. “That blush is mighty cute, darling.” Yeah, he absolutely had you there. However, Michael came running back over and cut off anything else that might have been said. Standing up, you took the tiny hand that was held out to you. Though, you didn't move since Michael hesitated just a second before reaching his other out to Rusty. 

Your heart melted as he didn't seem to take even a second to think about it. His large hand dwarfed Michael's, more so than your own. Then, the three of you were off to his truck. 

Finding parking for the rig clearly hadn't been easy since it was a bit of a walk to where he had left it. Not that it seemed to matter all that much as your son's excitement filled the silence and the distance.

“You said it was black, right? Why black?” As soon as Rusty would finish answering one, another would come. “Does it have a really loud horn?” And so on it went until you came to the rig. You knew almost nothing about trucks, but the monster of a truck seemed to fit the man with you in an odd way. Rusty knelt down, letting go of Michael's hand. 

“All right. Now, I know you promised your ma that you were going to listen. And we don't lie to ma, right?” Michael nodded, staring intently at the man. “Good. Now, I'm gonna have to pick you up to get in. I don't want you climbing yourself, trying to get in or out. It's a long way up, and you could get hurt if you do fall. I need you to hold on real tight. Can you do that?” Michael glanced at you, wanting the reassurance it seemed. There was a bit of that shy nature coming out. 

“It’s okay, buddy.” Rusty waited patiently, his eyes not leaving Michael this time. “You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you want to see the inside of the truck, Rusty has to carry you up.” 

“It's up to you.” Rusty backed up the fact that no one was forcing him to do anything that he didn't want to do. A few more seconds passed before Michael finally nodded. 

“Okay.” His curiosity and eagerness about the truck had trumped the shyness. 

“All right. Let me go get it unlocked and opened up, okay?” He pushed back up and moved off to his truck after shooting you a smile. You reached out to take the backpack from your son, kneeling down beside him to help soothe any of the nerves that he still had going on. 

“This is exciting! Getting to go into a truck like that.” He nodded, eyes moving from the truck to you and back. “Everything's going to be okay.” Finally, a smile came to his face. That was more what you wanted to see. Rusty came wandering back over. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah.” He knelt down so that Michael could come to him, lifting him up only when your son had wrapped his arms around the man's neck. You followed right alongside them, unable to help yourself from grinning as more excitement came forth from Michael. “Why don't you get in from the other side?” He suggested with a smile, one hand holding your son to him securely, the other wrapped around the grab handle. Nodding, you did just as suggested and moved to the other side of his truck, having to climb up a step before even opening the door. 

“Wow…” Rusty was already settled into the driver seat, letting Michael look around at everything. From the wheel to the mirror and beyond. He was behaving well, not touching anything. Rusty shifted him so he was more seated in his lap. 

“Go on, you can take a hold of the wheel, big man.” The gleeful laugh that came from him had the both of you smiling. His hands looked small against the wheel. In that moment, you reached for your phone to snap a picture, not even thinking to ask if the man would mind. It was just a moment that you wanted to capture. 

“This is so cool.” 

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Carefully, once Michael had his fill, Rusty set him to the side and motioned for him to head into the back of the cab, where a little bed was set up. It allowed him to explore the small space. 

“Hope you don't mind me taking a picture…” 

“Not at all, darling. Ya wanna see him get really excited?” Your cheeks actually hurt so much from smiling. It was the most that you had done since leaving the better part of three months ago. “Hey, Michael. You wanna honk the horn?” Michael scrambled back to the front so quickly that he nearly tripped and landed face first into the shifter. Rusty had managed to catch him just in time. 

“Easy there, buddy. Don't need your first ride here to be a trip to the ER.” It was a bit astounding how good he was with your son, but you couldn't have asked for more in that moment. Nothing about this had been a mistake. And it wouldn't be moving forward with whatever happened to come between you and this man.