#and i self-indulged shamelessly in writing this

[blackjackkent]

Narrator: Tonight's troubled rest is, as ever, overwhelmed by your killing fate. You dangle above a dark precipice, one move away from falling.

Narrator: Another watches your body while it is possessed by the night. You do not dream alone.

The blinding pain and fear of the dream fades, and as Rakha slowly comes to consciousness, trembling with the revelation of who and what she is, she finds that she is not alone. This is not precisely a surprise; Wyll sometimes sits up with her as she sits tied up in her bedroll, shivering with restless nightmares. Lae'zel, too, often prowls at her bedside, watchful for any loss of control.

Tonight, though, it is Jaheira. The older woman sits calmly nearby. Both of her scimitars are out in her hands, rested across her lap, and she watches Rakha stir with calm attentiveness. Her pose is relaxed, but there is a tension in it like the coiled spring of the panther she can become, in the moment before it pounces.

"Dark dreams?" she asks neutrally as Rakha lifts her head.

(A/N: I'm so goddamn proud that I called out in this post that Jaheira had absolutely clocked Rakha's whole situation, because it set this up perfectly entirely by accident. XD )

Slowly and awkwardly, Rakha wrestles herself into a sitting position, watching the Harper guardedly. But Jaheira makes no move to attack, just continues to watch her intently.

"I think I can guess," she goes on, one eyebrow quirking up. "Visions of blood on your hands. The blood in your veins, perhaps."

Rakha goes utterly still. Her eyes widen, and for a moment, utter surprise replaces all the fear and agitation. You know what I am?

Jaheira's lips twitch in a slight, rueful smile. "For all the gifts Bhaal's children inherit," she murmurs, "a peaceful night's sleep is not among them."

(She remembers so many nights on the road. She remembers Caden's torment as he learned who he was, as it threatened to overwhelm him. She remembers many things Caden does not even know she saw.

The last days before their battle against Sarevok; Khalid's low murmur to her as they heard Caden weeping in his bunk. "S-s-should we go to him?" And her slight shake of the head, because what comfort could she possibly offer to that good, kind boy who had just learned there was murder in his soul?

The nights on the road to Dragonspear after Boarskyr Bridge, nights when Caden would wake with a low cry in fear of some monster that had found him in his dreams. She could sense shame in him in those moments, and never spoke to him of them until it was far too late to matter - but she and Khalid watched over him in the night, a comforting presence just out of view.

And the nights in Amn after Spellhold... the worst nights of all. Nights when her bed was cold with Khalid's absence and her thoughts in turmoil, and Caden's soul had been ripped out of him, leaving an empty shell behind in the form of her friend. Nights when he became a monster and had to be beaten into submission. Nights when her deep-set reserve at last failed her, overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion, and she would have welcomed her friend's comfort and to offer it in turn. But there was little left of him to hear her, almost swallowed up by the beast that haunted his mind, and Aerie haunted the bedside of his empty not-quite-corpse like a ghost.

She watches Rakha and sees traces of that same haunted darkness in her new companion's eyes. Caden eventually managed to slip the noose of his heritage and find peace in the forests of Faenya-Dail. She does not know if Rakha will have the strength to do the same - but she is older now, and she will not make the mistake this time of being silent.)

Rakha swallows. Her throat still feels dry and tight and resists speech, but she manages to croak out the question anyway. "How... could you possibly know?"

Her emotions are so tangled it is hard to put names to them. Relief, perhaps - for Jaheira is one of those she trusts most in the camp, and if Jaheira knows, perhaps she will know what to do. But there is also shame, guilt, terror; she feels exposed and frightened and lost. And angry, too.

How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me?

But Jaheira just shrugs. "I don't. Not yet."(*) She climbs slowly to her feet, her eyes never leaving Rakha's. The scimitars hang loosely in both her hands, their blades just skimming the hay-strewn ground. "The dreams alone do not concern me," she goes on after a slight pause. "It is what waking deeds they might inspire."

She peers at Rakha searchingly, her lips drawn into a tight line. "Are you truly your own master?" she asks - and her tone is a strange melding of gentle warmth and cold steel. "What is it you feel, when Father's dreams come calling?"

Rakha flinches. Father. She has never before had that word to put to the urges that drive her. She has not yet accustomed herself to it.

She wondered once - after learning of Shadowheart's past - if she herself had a father that she would drop everything to save. Now she knows the answer, and it makes her skin crawl. Her father is the source of everything that is wrong and broken about her. His influence sits in her head and drives her to kill.

"Helpless..." she mutters. The sense of shame deepens. Her head ducks, but she can feel Jaheira's eyes on her. "Like I can deny him nothing."

She can see the flicker out of the corner of her eye as Jaheira's blades twitch - but do not lift. "Then would you call it mercy," Jaheira says softly, "if the next night I never let you wake?"

Rakha says nothing - but they both know the answer. Yes.

Jaheira sighs, studying her for a long time - and then the blades move again. With a sharp movement, she steps to Rakha's side, flicks out one wrist... and severs the bindings on Rakha's hands.(**) "This is your father's true legacy," she says bitterly. "Not his children, but the fear they plant in us. The savagery it blossoms into."

Rakha draws her hands in front of her, rubs at the sore place on her wrists where the ropes chafed. Then she stands slowly and looks down at Jaheira; for a moment the two of them stare at each other, a long moment of unspoken understanding.

The half-elf is so much smaller than she is, but in this moment Rakha feels much the smaller, for she is acutely aware of the trust Jaheira is giving her... and the fact that Jaheira would end her in an instant if that trust proved misplaced.

"In another time," Jaheira says slowly, "with another of your kind, we found a better way. I would dearly like to find it again."

(Rakha is not Caden, no. She never will be. She did not have the benefit of Gorion's training; there is more of the animal darkness in her than Caden ever had, even in his worst moments. But Jaheira has seen her fight it, has seen the moments of softness in her with Wyll, has seen the strange sincerity with which she asks questions and searches for the right path. In spite of all her caution, Jaheira likes her. If there is a way that does not lead to her death, Jaheira will find it.)

"Tell me what I must do," Rakha whispers. Her voice sounds small in her own ears.

Perhaps Jaheira can hear how lost Rakha feels, because her expression softens a little with a slight, reassuring smile. "You would not be the first to turn the taint in your blood to your advantage," she says quietly. "But there are barriers a Bhaalspawn must overcome, first."

She hisses out a heavy breath between her teeth, her gaze going distant, looking past Rakha and through the wall behind her. "Those of your kind. Orin... I am sure you already know that so long as she lives, she will never stop hunting you."

(She remembers the Five. The Bhaalspawn under Amelyssan's direction who sought to obliterate all those who shared their tainted blood. They nearly succeeded; indeed, she thought they had. How do any remain? How does Rakha live, and Orin? How did Bhaal, dead god that he is, create yet more spawn to do his bloody work?)

She shakes her head sharply with a tight frown. "It might be that you have to turn and face her. You cannot change that. All you can choose is how you meet her - as another bloodied child of Bhaal, or as yourself."

She lifts her head and again meets Rakha's eyes, and the steady certainty in her expression meets Rakha's agitation and calms it like water over fire. "All *I* can offer is the promise that, should you choose to do so, you will not meet her alone."

She waits until Rakha nods. Then, in a single smooth motion, she sheathes both scimitars and sits down on a nearby haybale. "For now, take what rest you can," she says - and now there's an unmistakable gentleness in her tone that Rakha has never heard before. "I will watch over you this night."

Rakha tilts her head to one side, and something like black humor flickers through her eyes for a moment. "To watch over me?" she asks. "Or to protect against me?"

Jaheira's lips twitch with muted amusement. "I suppose you'll have your answer when you wake in the morning."

It's not much reassurance. But it's something. The dreams of blood still wait for her... but it's a comfort different even from Wyll's support to know that Jaheira's eyes are on her, that the Harper knows what she is and hasn't turned away.

She curls back into her bedroll, her hands free, her eyes twitching restlessly under their lids. And Jaheira, true to her word, waits and watches in the darkness, like a wolf on guard before its den.

----

(*) I looked at the dialogue files for this scene. This line appears to be bugged, bc in-game it got skipped, but I like it so I'm including it. XD

(**) Artistic license, obviously. All the references to Rakha being bound up at night are my particular headcanon.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Skin-to-skin

Follow up to 'Little Dove'. Inspired by this comment by @ruby-kissed (〃´ω`〃)♡

No warnings. Only pure fluff ^^

Again, not proofread at all, but written on a whim. 100% self indulgent. Had to get my Dad!Sylus feels out immediately

Beneath a soft blanket, Sylus' little dove is sleeping peacefully, her cheek resting against his solid bare chest, the sound of his heartbeat having lulled her within minutes of being cradled against him. In this way, she reminds Sylus of you — of your tendency to instantly fall asleep on top of him, and his heart swells with renewed tenderness for you both.

The tiny baby is almost swallowed up against her father's massive frame, the contrast in their sizes striking and touching in equal measure. Sylus drinks in the sight of his daughter, his crimson irises peering down at her with a tenderness that you alone have ever seen in them before. But now there is a whole new vulnerability to his gaze.

"Daddy loves you so much. More than anything" he whispers softly, the first time of innumerable that he'll utter these eight words to the little girl in his arms. "I will always be here for you. No matter what" he vows.

Never will his child have to grow up scared and alone. Never for a moment will she feel the absence of love or security.

His left index finger is caught in his daughter's grip, her tiny fingers having curled around it earlier with a firmness that had caused both his heart and eyes to well up. In that moment Sylus had known for certain that he was completely hers. Forever.

When you had gently teased that your daughter already had him completely wrapped around her finger, Sylus had simply chuckled, unable to refute the statement.

"Our little dove takes after a certain kitten in this regard" he had replied warmly, fond amusement twinkling in his red irises as he gazed at you.

With his baby girl curled up against him like this, skin-to-skin, it's as though the final piece has been added to the jigsaw puzzle that is Sylus' life.

With the sensation of her warmth on his bare chest, and her little heartbeat against his own, everything finally feels whole.

With his two precious girls at his side, Sylus has all he could ever want in life and more.

He is now truly the richest man on earth.

.♡

[skyheld]

"Did I hear you correctly?" The heat of the fire crowds sound from the space around it, and he wonders if he mistook what Ameridan said. There is no judgment in his voice as he elaborates, "You called yourself Telana's wife."

"I did, yes." It was a spontaneous decision to slip it into a sentence, but he wasn't being careless. As honest as Ameridan is, there is a measure of care in everything he says, the stories he shares of himself, of the past. He is careful when speaking of spirits, of tranquility, of blood magic, because a thoughtless word could bring the new Inquisition's reputation in question. When it comes to more personal matters, some things he simply prefers to hold close to his heart. Maybe it's a leftover from when he had enemies who would use anything they could find to hurt him—which he still does, though they are fewer and not as powerful. Maybe it is just the way he is.

But as he sits with Solas by the watchfire at night, their companions sleeping around them, he's speaking of Telana and he says, "it was a good thing we married when we did; she would not have wanted an Inquisitor for a wife." He's not certain Solas will pick up on it, and he's fine either way. It is an invitation, he supposes, extended to one of the people close to him he thinks will understand him the most.

Being Telana's wife wasn't a given thing, even if marrying her was. At first they just said spouse. He didn't like the sound of it, but it was what they had. He liked calling Telana his wife and he liked the way her face lit up when he did, but he never had a reaction like that to when she said spouse, or partner, or any other variant. They were staying at an inn in the heart of the Daled one night, and he was thinking about how nice it had felt to walk up to the innkeeper and say "we need a room for the night, and my wife wants a bath" and then he realized he had the answer right there.

He turned his head towards Telana and pressed a kiss to her forehead, where she had a small scar from a spellgone awry when she was young. "What would you say if I said I am your wife?"

"Of course you are", she said, scrunching her brow the way he found so endearing, "we're—oh, wife." She smiled when she caught herself, then more softly when she understood. "I suppose I would say, 'this is my wife Ameridan, who I love beyond everything.'"

He drew her head down and kissed her again so she couldn't see the way he blushed. "I like that."

"I would say, 'I waited years for him to come back to the Dales and be my wife, and I would wait for eternity, but I don't have to because he already is my wife.'"

"Telana..."

"I would say", she propped herself up on an elbow, so she was looking down and he couldn't escape her gaze, "'there, look at my wife, he's the most beautiful person I know.'"

"You wouldn't."

"My wife is a fool who thinks I'm lying, but I love him anyway."

He pulled her down on top of him, and flipped them over, and the rest wasn't said in words.

—

He's drawn back to the present when a log bursts in the fire, sending up a shower of sparks, and finds himself smiling at the memory.

"Spouse felt too formal", he says. "Husband.... it would have been what people expected, so then they'd have drawn conclusions, you know? And I've never felt like a husband. Wife felt right. I do not know if that makes sense to anyone but me."

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Akai is going to be the death of him.

This has been a long-time conviction of Rei's, and yet of all the ways that could go, this really is not how he pictured it.

Leading contender for cause of death: irregular blood flow, leaving him without the oxygen necessary for higher brain functions.

Where has it gone? Mostly to his cheeks. And the tips of his ears. They're burning.

(And some of it may have gone further south, pooling warmly in his stomach).

Akai's wearing the sweater Rei made and it's so oversized he's got cute little sweater paws covering his hands. Rei would like to faint now, please. Please. Please?

He closes his eyes in hopes this is all just a hallucination caused by lack of sleep (ignoring the fact Akai just woke him up, actually feeling well-rested for once). But when he opens them again, Akai's still there, eyebrow raised. Lit in the warm colours of a new dawn, and covered in a sweater Rei knows is incredibly soft, because he picked the wool himself. Holding a steaming cup of something.

Hm. It smells like sencha.

Temptation itself, in the morning cool.

Rei curses, resigns himself to the new reality he gets to enjoy now. Okiya Subaru is one thing, the identity deliberately crafted to be harmless and cozy, but Akai Shuichi should not be looking this adorable. Maybe Rei did suffer that concussion, after all.

.

There's some overlap in their watch cycle, so Rei busies himself trying to get the excess energy out and make breakfast. He's definitely not ignoring Akai. Which would be difficult anyways in the one room apartment they're using to lay low.

It's going to be bland, even with his best efforts. There's barely any spices in stock, just lots and lots of dried and pickled foods, stuff that keeps. Not that Rei's expected anything more from Akai - okay, maybe a little, considering he's trying (and failing) to learn how to cook. Then again, he probably didn't figure he'd actually have to use the safehouse, and they've had worse. That weekend in Rikubetsu comes to mind. It still sends shivers down his spine.

Besides, the food isn't actually the problem - though they'll need to be conservative with it. No, the real issue is the shitty insulation. And terrible heating. Rei shivers in his sweater and huddles closer to the stove. It's not like they can call a HVAC repairman without drawing attention to themselves. Who thought it was a good idea to do this sting in the winter?

Whatever. They'll only need to stay here for a couple of days, until their allies have finished the witch-hunt, and then they can leave this safehouse behind them.

.

An uneventful breakfast and several hours later it's Akai's turn to sleep. He's mostly been sitting quiet and unobtrusive in the corner chair, keeping an eye on the street below. Rei knows the look, has seen it many times. Mostly on Rye, back in Osaka. Perching on the place with the best view, making as little noise and movement as possible. Coiled up and ready to bolt. The apartment isn't safe, and the mission isn't over. Akai won't rest, not really, until the all-clear. Idiot. As if he's not injured, doesn't need to recover.

"Akai. Your turn." He tries, and is roundly ignored. Akai must've heard him - there's nothing to listen to, in here. If he's somewhere else, mentally, well. Rei's never been good at quitting. Or alright with being denied attention.

"Akai." When the sniper still doesn't react, Rei walks up to him. Grabs a hold of his chin, tipping it up, forcing the other to look up at him. There's no resistance; either Akai is too tired to object, or he actively allows the touch. Rei's not sure which is worse. He feels Akai flinch as he straightens - must be the strain on his injured ribs. The sniper stares up at him, jade eyes dull and lifeless. The shadows under his eyes are deep enough to blot out the sun. Where's his stupid mirth, the barely concealed amusement? This won't do.

"Go lie down. Even if you can't sleep, your body still needs the rest. You're useless like this." How long has it been since he last slept?

"I can still-" Akai starts to object, eyes flicking to the window, to the street below.

"No. I've got this." Akai's so close, and so painfully tense, and Rei really doesn't know how to get his message through Akai's thick skull. So he tries for the closest approximation. He leans down that last little bit, until their noses touch, their foreheads rest together. Akai's skin burns against his own. "Rest." A single word, too gentle to be a command, but Akai still obeys. Long, soft lashes flutter against Rei's cheek, feather-light, as green eyes slip shut. The ghost of a sigh brushes against his lips. The pressure against him increases as Shuichi loosens into his touch.

Rei allows himself to indulge in the warmth of their shared space for a few shared breaths. It shouldn't be this hard to pull away. "Not here, idiot. The bed."

It's unclear whether Akai actually needs the help, or if he just likes to force Rei to do extra work, but he finds himself supporting the sniper to the bed. Helps lower Akai to the mattress as he settles in, careful not to aggravate his wounds. Cocoons him in the blanket. And if he's being a little too considerate, well, Akai looks about ready to pass out, so it's likely he won't notice or remember.

.

Rei finds himself checking in every once in a while, making sure Akai's still breathing. The man can be eerily quiet when he wants, and in slumber he almost seems dead. The first couple of times Rei saw him asleep, he found it disconcerting. By now, he knows how to spot Akai's signs of life, the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Of all the things that happened in the last 48 hours, Rei's mind returns to the most harmless offense - Akai in a too-large sweater.

How could that happen? He knows Akai's features by heart, by touch and measurement, and he's pretty sure he's counted out the rows and numbers correctly. Okay, fine, he might have picked out the design and worked on it in a hazy fugue state, but that is only slightly worse than his usual operating conditions. The result shouldn't be such a disaster. Maybe elder Tsuruyama will know where he went wrong.

(Because he did go wrong. No amount of stupid, heady pride at seeing Akai wear what Rei made for him with his own two hands can dissuade him from that. Rei tries to shove down the satisfaction spreading warmth throughout his body, right down to his toes. But the feeling has been building for weeks now, and is getting harder to ignore each day. Rei pretends he doesn't see the signs, doesn't know what they mean. They can't afford the distraction.)

Thankfully, his musings are interrupted by a sharp intake of breath, followed by a series of shallow gasps. He scans the room, wondering if Akai's noticed something he missed, when, with a quiet thud, the thick blanket slides to the floor. Akai's twisting and turning on the bed. Oh, great, the genius wants to agitate his wounds and freeze in one go.

Rei abandons his watch uneasily. But it's the middle of the day, and anyone coming after them right now would have to be stupidly brazen. Besides, he'd probably not notice attackers anyways. Akai's panting and thrashing is way too distracting.

Night (well, day in this case) terrors are not unusual for people in their profession, and if they are a regular issue for Akai, that might explain his general reluctance to get to bed, as well as the permanent bags under his eyes. But at this rate, Rei will need to intervene, or Akai will further injure himself.

"Don't go inside-" Akai's words, low and sharp, stop Rei dead in his tracks. Oh. They should've done a debrief before heading to bed. He's willing to bet he can guess pretty accurately what holds Akai in its grasp. It takes him a deep breath and a conscious effort of will to shake off the image of the abandoned factory, the smell of dust and mildew. The echo of a gunshot.

"Akai?" Rei continues his slow approach, gentle, non-threatening. Though Akai's eyes are wide open, staring at the ceiling, Rei doubts he can see him.

"At least wait for backup-", Akai pleads, unsteady. He's reaching out, grabbing at empty air. Grinding his teeth in agitation.

Alright. What did Hiro say? Considering Akai's taller, and loathe as Rei is to admit it, a better fighter, trying to wake him is most certainly a bad idea. Even if he weren't stronger, there's a gun on the bedside table, and Rei's not keen to learn what Akai's instincts look like if he wakes up disoriented and with too much adrenaline in his system.

So. Soothing might or might not be possible, but he has to try. "Akai. Shhh, it's all right. You got to me in time. We made it out. I'm here. I'm safe."

'Because you took a bullet for me', he doesn't say. Bulletproof vest or not, Akai's carrying the reminder of his actions on his chest, in cracked ribs, tender skin, and colourful bruises. It's grating to be in his debt, yet again. The first time might have been accidental, more about Scotch than Bourbon, but there's no doubt that this time, it was all about Rei. Who has the sickening suspicion Akai would've acted no differently, had he not been wearing body armour.

It makes no sense why he would go this far. There's people waiting for him - his siblings, his coworkers, the Kudos. Besides, he's the Silver Bullet, meant to take down the organisation. And here he is, throwing it all away for nothing. Who really cares whether Rei survives? He's long resigned himself to the fact he might not.

Hiro comes to mind, and Rei immediately rejects the notion. Maybe it's uncharitable. Things surely were difficult for Hiro, but the longer Rei has to think about it, the less he can forgive him. If he truly had cared about Rei, he would've found a way to let him know he made it. It's been three years, after all, easily enough time to settle into his cover. It shouldn't have fallen to Akai, perceived threat and even enemy at the time, to bring this revelation.

Rei's glad Hiro is safe, make no mistake. But there's years of grief and guilt between them, the loneliness growing roots so deep it's isolated him from the one person that mattered the most. The betrayal of the trust he thought they shared stings every time he thinks about his best friend. If he can even be called that, these days.

Akai thrashes, and Rei barely manages to grab a hold of his arm before he's decked in the face. Stupid. Here he is, getting lost in his own issues, while the other agent needs his support. He owes him that much, if not more.

Making sure he keeps Akai's arms in view, Rei puts the gun into the bedside table's drawer to avoid any accidents. He sits himself down at the corner of the bed, next to the agent's head. The stupid knit cap has slid off, revealing sweat-slick curls of dark hair. Rye's hair used to be so fine, smoothed out by its length, obviously well taken care of. The texture now, as Rei cards his fingers through steadily, is wet and oily - Akai should wash it tomorrow. With all that sweat, he'll need to shower anyways, though the motion might be straining his injuries. It might be good to offer to help - with the hair, that is.

"Not you too, not so soon-" Akai still seems agitated, but the repetitive stroking of his hair grounds them both, little by little. At least he's not kicking out anymore. "Akai, listen. You're not getting rid of me that easily, all right? And they're not getting you, either. You're here, with me, safe and sound. We're both here." And freezing, he notices. Akai's shivering beneath him, seeking his touch, his warmth. Rei feels like an idiot. He really should've grabbed the blanket first. Then again, Akai probably would've just shaken it off again. He'll fetch it when Akai's calmed down a bit more.

He scooches closer. Rubs circles into Akai's shoulder and upper arm, trying to create warmth through friction. Running his hand along, he's glad to feel the mohair he picked is as soft as he had hoped.

"No, please, Rei-" A stupid slip-up, inappropriate not just because it happened in front of the enemy. And yet the PSB agent can't bring himself to be too mad about it. It's not like Aperol lived to tell the tale. Rei had taken the shot in the window of opportunity Akai had bought him, and, well. He might have cared more about dispatching Aperol quickly so he could focus on a downed Akai. He's already mourned Akai once before; he'd rather not do so again, in the foreseeable future.

"Shhh. I'm with you." He squeezes Akai's shoulders, trying to make sure the other knows. He shouldn't indulge like this. Can't encourage Akai's behaviour. But duty demanded he go into that warehouse, and he's really not sure he would've walked back out without Akai.

Either Bourbon's cover is blown, or Rum has decided it's time to clean house and deal with loose ends. Whatever the case may be, killing Aperol will have burnt any goodwill he might have had, if it existed at all. He can't go back.

Except, it hits him: it doesn't matter. If the Kudos' plan worked, there's no place to go back to. He's survived Gin's distrust and Vermouth's games. Rum's relentless chase. He's still standing. Because of skill and luck and the allies Edogawa Conan has collected. Five long years undercover. They're finally over. He doesn't believe in miracles, but this comes pretty damn close.

Of course the job is not over, not by a long shot. There's stragglers to round up, witnesses to interrogate, statements to give. Evidence to submit and analyse. Going up against the Karasuma corporation means their case needs to be airtight, or they'll wiggle out of it with good attorneys. In all likelihood, everyone involved in this operation will need to sleep with one eye open for the rest of their lives.

But the fact remains that it looks like there will be a future, after all.

And it doesn't look terribly bleak.

Three years ago, he'd thought his world had ended. But he'd kept going, hanging on for duty - and the need to corner Akai for answers.

It just might have been worth it.

For late-night talks, shared cigarettes and stolen sweaters. For this beautiful, brave, reckless idiot, lost in fitful sleep beside him. For the hope of a better future, forgotten and rekindled.

He can't bring himself to say it, not even when Akai's asleep in his arms, unpleasant memories barely kept. But he knows it all the same.

'Thank you for keeping me alive to see this day.'

.

Sweater weather AU masterpost

[thelivingautomaton]

true love waits in haunted houses (Or: Mary gets sick. James disappears. Three years later, Mary gets a letter.)

chapter 19: see that you're mine (see you at the bitter end)

"Mary was, it must be said, uncommonly practiced at the art of lying to herself – yet even she couldn’t deny that she felt (fire kindles) something stir, deep inside her chest. It was not dead; perhaps it could not die. But it had been asleep for so long she nearly forgot it was there. Now, she knew, it was alive. It was patient. And it was very hungry." In which: cracks start to show, as they are wont to do; our heroine and her companion get to stroll through the rain; a ring is bequeathed (but, as the poet said, "to take is not to give"); and one game ends, while another sits on the cusp of beginning.

[rosepetalgold]

i look at you (and i dream)

Summary: Roman tells Logan what he’s thinking about and discovers his dreams might be closer to reality than he’d dared to imagine.

Relationships: Romantic Logince

Warnings: None! Pure domestic fluff!

Word count: 962

Notes: Title inspired by Mikrokosmos by BTS

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

-

“Roman, are you even listening to me?”

Roman blinks, emerging out of the colorful tapestry of his thoughts to find Logan staring at him from where he’s paused chopping vegetables for the dish he’s concocting for dinner, one eyebrow arched in a silent question.

“Sorry, my love,” he says sheepishly. “I just got caught up daydreaming.”

Logan sighs, shaking his head not unkindly as he returns to his cutting board, the slightest upturn of his lips betraying that he mustn’t be too put out by Roman’s lapse of focus. “I suppose it would be too much to ask for your ambitions of fame and grandeur to wait until I was done telling you about my day.”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t thinking about any of that.”

“Work, then?”

“No, not that either.”

“Then what on earth were you daydreaming about?”

“You.”

Logan casts him a sideways glance, clearly baffled, even as his knife doesn’t falter in its steady rhythm. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” Roman breathes, not even trying to keep the wonderment out of his voice at the truth of such a simple statement, still unable to quite believe that this was real, that Logan was here, was choosing him, was his. “But I look at you and I just can’t help but dream.”

But his words only cause the puzzlement furrowing Logan’s brow to deepen. “I don’t understand. What could you possibly be dreaming about?”

Roman laughs under his breath, answers dancing over one another in his mind like so many bits of dandelion fluff caught in a breeze, too many to ever count. Where to even begin?

“Everything.”

He shifts closer, gently finessing the knife from Logan’s grip and laying it on the counter before taking his lover’s hands in his own.

“I dream about waking up next to you every morning and watching the sunset next to you every night. I dream about seeing you land your dream job and finally being recognized for that endlessly brilliant mind of yours. I dream about buying a house together out in the country like you want and us making it our own. I dream about surprising you with homegrown roses on idyllic summer mornings and slow dancing in the dark with you on starlit winter nights. I dream about all the days I’ll come home to you and all the ways I’ll fall even deeper in love with you and all the countless quiet moments I’ll get to just be by your side as we grow old and gray.” He laces their fingers together, marveling inwardly at how readily Logan reciprocates the touch, palms warm and steady against his own. “I dream of us, of the life we’ll lead, of the future we have together.”

Logan only stares at him for a long moment, gaze searching his own as a hint of pink begins to tinge his cheeks, and Roman can’t help but smile softly at the sight, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the bloom of color.

“You really think about all that?” Logan’s voice is slightly choked, words scarcely more than a whisper, and Roman draws back, a twinge of worry flickering to life in his stomach, but Logan’s grip tightens around his, keeping him from retreating.

“Of course I do. You’re it for me, Logan; why would I ever dream about anything else?”

Logan doesn’t even bother replying, simply tugs one hand free from Roman’s fingers, wraps it around the back of his neck, and pulls him into an ardent kiss.

Logan had never been as much of one for words as Roman was, had always tended to struggle a bit to vocalize his deepest feelings, but Roman doesn’t need a long-winded reply, not when the press of the other man’s body against his is all the answer he needs.

Logan, though, apparently isn’t content to let his reaction do all the talking for him.

“I know that not many people would call me a dreamer,” he says as he pulls back, gaze so open and vulnerable in the golden rays of the late afternoon light that Roman’s heart squeezes in his chest. “But I want that too. That future. The two of us. You.”

“It’s ours,” Roman vows. “And I’m yours.”

They meet in the middle this time, an intoxicating press of lips that tastes of hopes and dreams and happy endings, and oh nevermind all his indulgent imaginings about what might be, this is all Roman could ever want.

If this is his reward for daydreaming, he really needs to do it more often.

Entirely too soon Logan is drawing back again, rosiness now fully blossomed across his cheekbones.

“We don’t have to have a house in the country,” he says as if his brain has just caught up to Roman’s earlier words, the delay in processing entirely more endearing than it should be. “I know you like the city.”

Roman shrugs, sure the expression on his face can only be described as utterly besotted as his hands find a home in the familiar curve of Logan’s waist, pure affection melting through every inch of his body. “I can compromise as long as there’s no bears.”

Logan chuckles, low and bemused.

“No bears,” he promises, and with the way his eyes are sparkling with amusement, what else is Roman supposed to do but kiss him again?

“Love you,” Logan murmurs against his lips, the words still enough even after all this time to send butterflies dancing through Roman’s stomach like it’s the first he’s ever heard them. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” he whispers, and here, with Logan in his arms, present and future inseparable from each other for one breathlessly suspended moment, he can’t dream to ask for anything more.

-

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @darth-does-stuff

[a-gay-bloodmage]

Day 27: Road 

(Thom x Mallory Trevelyan)

When the Anchor acts up in the Inquisitor’s sleep, Thom Rainier is pulled into one of Mallory Trevelyan’s dreams. He encounters a man he hardly recognizes in a tavern in Markham, on the road away from Ostwick and toward anywhere else.

[thedocs-in]

Military School Pt.1

Sorry this took so long to get out, a self-indulgent Cecilxreader fic that I started to write took over my life for a couple on months. And then school started.

But I wrote this about two years ago, and I only meant for it to be shared with people on this Cecil server I was in. But, considering its gone now, I figured why not. And Cecil is supposed to be like, 14 or 15 in this.

This is part one of a three part story. The second part should be up possibly by the end of the week. Gotta make some edits to it first.

Plot: Cecil gets into a fight that nearly gets him expelled from high school, and almost gets sent to military school.

Link to Pt.2

TW: blood, injuries, and mentions of violence and sexual harassment (very briefly on that second one)

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

Sitting there in an uncomfortable chair, Cecil leaned forward. His elbows resting on his knees and a bloody rag pressed against his nose. Though, given the fact that his shirt was already covered in his own blood, the rag was pretty much useless. Craning his neck, he looked at the senior who sat across from him. The senior he’s labeled ‘Jackass’ looked like shit, his shirt stained with blood. The skin around his nose and one of his eyes starting to turn purple.

The senior pressed a bloodied rag into his face, as his lip had been busted and his nose broken. Two of the seniors’ fingers were in a makeshift splint; and while he had heard something pop, he wasn’t sure if they were broken or just dislocated.

But it didn’t matter; he was still screwed regardless. Up until this point he had gotten away with getting into fights with assholes or bullies. Middle school kids were too embarrassed that they got their ass kicked. Sure, there were times when someone would snitch, and he’d get in trouble. But most of the time he’d get a warning or detention, considering the other kids never got hurt enough to warrant suspension, or worse, expulsion. But high schoolers were different, you fight back, hurt their ego, and they’ll find a way to make your life miserable; especially if they had been on top of the food chain.

But here he was, sitting outside the principal’s office contemplating everything that went wrong, how he let his temper get the better of him.

Craning his head up, he got a better look at the ‘jackass’ sitting across from him. And he was met with a glare that could melt steel. Lowering the rag, he checked his nose; thankful that the bleeding finally stopped.

He returned the dirty look to the senior, scrunching his nose in the process. Which only sent a wave of pain through his face, and he was convinced that it was broken. It wasn't the first time it's been broken, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But knowing his dad, a trip to the emergency room wasn’t likely, as his dad would rather just set it at home.

Looking at the floor, he stared at the ugly linoleum. He could see a few stray droplets of blood on the ugly brown linoleum, that was probably outdated when it was put down. And he wondered who had the bright idea to choose brown of all colors.

But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a shouting match break out behind him. The door to his right muffled the voices, but he quickly straightened up when he heard his dad shouting.

The ‘Jackass’ spoke up, “Sounds like you’re in trouble you little shit.”

He looked at the senior and could see that he had a shit eating grin on his face. But he watched as the smug look turned to regret as blood started to run down his chin, and he moved the rag from his nose to his lip.

“I wouldn’t have kicked your sorry ass if you had just left my friend alone.” He spat back.

He leaned back in the chair and looked up to the stained ceiling, attempting to make sense of what was being said. All he could tell was that it didn’t sound good for him. Occasionally he could make out his dad insulting whoever else was in there.

The shouting quickly died down, and he heard a third voice talking, then footsteps.

On his right, a door quickly opened, and he turned his head to look. Standing in the doorway was short and portly man who looked both terrified and exhausted.

He sighs, “Both of you in my office, now!”

Forcing himself up from the chair, he reluctantly walked through the doorway. Quickly spotting his dad standing across from the ‘jackasses’ father.

His dad quickly looked at him, and ice filled his veins. He could see that his dad was not happy. Catching his eye for a moment, he quickly looked elsewhere as he walked into the office. While he was never scared of his father, for once he was nervous. The fact that this fight had gotten so out of hand made things look worse for him.

As soon as he was within grabbing distance, his dad pulled him close. Quietly seething at him through his teeth, “You are in so much trouble!”

What little color there was in his face left as he rarely saw his dad this angry.

The portly man walks around the room and sits down behind his desk. On top sat a little placard, ‘Principal Owens’.

With a sigh, the principal sat down. “Mr. Stedman, I’m afraid we have a serious situation on our hands here. I don’t take kindly to violence occurring on school grounds, especially when it leads to serious injury. And to be completely honest Mr. Stedman, this isn’t looking good for your son.”

He felt his chest tighten. And while he wanted to defend himself, he bit his tongue right as the ‘jackasses’ father started to yell.

“I want that little bastard expelled and arrested! Look at what he did to my son!” The man spat, gesturing to his son’s injuries.

Principal Owens cuts in with exasperation, “Mr. Lawson please, before any decision is made, I want Mr. Stedmans’ to explain himself.”

Now with everyone’s attention turned towards him, his mouth suddenly went dry, and he had no idea how to explain himself. Where to even begin, and if they would even believe him. Considering it was his word against ‘jackasses’ and his cronies. He had a few friends that could certainly vouch for him, but he didn’t want them involved in this mess.

He could feel his dad’s grip on his shoulder tighten, and in that moment, he was almost too terrified to even look towards his father. Taking a deep breath, knowing that even if he told the truth, he could still be screwed. “He’s been harassing my friend for days. And when I went to talk to him, to tell him to leave her alone, he took a swing at me. I didn’t start the fi-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Mr. Lawson lost his grip on his son for a moment as the senior attempted to lunge at him, calling him a liar. Thankfully, his dad quickly put himself in between the two teenagers, and Mr. Lawson pulled his son back.

Principal Owens stood up quickly and slammed his hands onto his desk, “That’s enough! I will not have any more fighting! Especially in my office.” Looking over to Mr. Lawson he said, “Control your son!”

He watched as the ‘jackass’ huffed in anger.

As soon as things started to calm down for a moment the principal looked at him, “Cecil, what do you mean he’s been harassing your friend?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he began to explain things. “All of this started two weeks ago, when he started to harass my friend. He kept making all sorts of sexual comments towards her, or him and his friends kept harassing her after school. I went to go talk to him, to tell him to knock it off. But all he did was attack me. I didn’t go looking for a fight, but no one else was telling him to stop.”

As the words left his mouth, he could feel the tension growing in the room. But he noticed his dad’s grip loosen a bit.

The principal narrowed his eyes at him, as he leaned back into his chair. “And why didn’t you think to report this to the office? And why hasn’t she come forward?”

What anxiety he felt, was quickly replaced with anger, “I tried, and no one did anything! She tried, but no one would take her seriously. If you really don’t believe me, ask her. Ask the teacher that caught the ‘jackass’ messing with her yesterday.”

He still couldn’t remember his name, though at this point it wasn’t worth trying.

“Young man, I will not tolerate that language in my office or my school.” Owens said. “Which teacher are you talking about?”

He wracked his brain trying to remember who had caught the older student, but his memory was failing him. “I don’t know, I think it might’ve been the P.E. teacher. I wasn’t there, she just told me about all of this, this morning. She said it’s been happening after school for the past two weeks. She said that the teacher saw and stopped it but didn’t do anything else.”

Principal Owens sighed and rubbed his face. And for what felt like minutes, everyone was silent.

His dad cleared his throat, “Principal Owens, I’d like to know what you plan on doing? I agree that what my son did was wrong, but if what he’s saying is true, I hope ‘jacka-’, Mr. Lawson’s son is punished as well.”

Biting his tongue, he had to stop himself from laughing at his dad’s slip-up. Over the past couple of years, many of his teachers had complained about his colorful language. Resulting in a lot of parent teacher conferences, where they quickly learned where he got it from.

But before Principal Owens could respond Mr. Lawson interjected, “Are you kidding me? My son is the victim here, I want the little menace arrested.”

He felt his heart stop for a moment and his dad’s grip tighten again.

“Now hold on.” Principal Owens says. “Before the police get involved, I want to make sure that everyone is telling the truth.”

Mr. Lawson’s face was turning red, “I know for a fact that this isn’t the first time that little bastard has done something like this. Everyone knows he’s done this before.”

“Sir please calm down; I know all too well about Cecil’s previous incidents. I’ve seen his records, but his past incidents have never been like this. And I don’t think the police need to be involved yet.”

He internally breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the cops wouldn’t be involved just yet.

Lawson opens his mouth to start again, but Owens stops him, “I think the best course of action, for now, would be suspension for both. I want to see if what Cecil say’s is true. If it ends up being a lie then your son can return to school immediately, if not, then he’ll have to serve out his suspension. And he will be put on academic probation when he returns.”

‘Jackass’ begins to whine, “What?! You can’t do that? I’m needed on the team. I need this to get into college.”

The older Stedman cuts in, “Kid, if you have to rely on to being a football player to get yourself into college, you probably shouldn’t be going. Besides if my son is lying then you have nothing to worry about.”

Both Lawson’s looked at his father, moving their anger from Principal Owens to the older Stedman.

Before either Lawson could say anything, Owens speaks. “Now Mr. Stedman, I cannot let Cecil off with just a warning, he did injure another student. If he’s telling the truth, he’ll have to serve out his suspension, and a few weeks of detention when he comes back. But if your son is lying, I will be forced to expel him.”

His father, now much more levelheaded, spoke. “I understand.”

“Now please, go home. I have an incident report to fill out.”

As he and his dad walked out of the principal’s office, his father spoke to him quietly, “We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

He nodded his head, “Yes sir.”

[loganthrives]

Heeeeey, guess who, instead of writing any of my other fics that I already have ongoing, decided to start posting my FFXIV WoL gay sandwich fic instead??? (and stayed up until 3am writing it last night don't @ me-)

This is a new adventure that follows my WoL in the game, Logan Thrives (of course) who is a shy awkward Elezen with a really bad case of amnesia. I got kinda thrown into RP before I was ready for it and understood the lore of the world, so I always RPed him as having amnesia and just being a shy, sweet, awkward tall dork who's very good with White Magic 😁

And this story, apart from giving me space to create a whole damn world and give him an actual backstory, is intended to give me my favourite sandwich - G'raha/Logan/Haurchefant 💜

Spoilers for Endwalker and some of the post patch content (I played up to the point where you save that guy's sister, let's say 😁). I am actually on a hiatus from the game so I personally have no idea about anything beyond that point though, so bear with me 😅

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i feel like its been ages since i posted a fic my brain is slowly rotting from the inside out T_T

[stardust-falling]

Me when I create a guy whose entire purpose is to suffer and put him in a world whose entire purpose is to cause him suffering:

[wycross]

started writing for flufftober today!! i really hope ill actually finish it on time since i actually started reasonably early i am excited to write probably mostly nanago unless another hyperfixation takes me and whisks me away to a far off land

[nightmare-niko]

Blame It On The Rain [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Word count: 855

Warnings: oral (m! receiving), rough sex, shower sex, once again completely self-indulgent

A/N: the obsession is going strong hehehe

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Your boyfriend lay on your bed, scrolling away on his phone. Such a simple task, but he looks so damn good. You lean against the door frame, shamelessly watching your unsuspecting lover.

"Hey, Nick?" You call out innocently.

"Yes, baby?" He looks up from his phone.

"I'm gonna shower."

He looks at you, confused, “oookay..?”

"Join me.”

The corners of his mouth curled up into a mischievous smile, "you askin or tellin?"

You roll your eyes, “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes!” you turn on your heels and head towards your bathroom.

”Or what?" He shouts, still in your room.

"Or you're not getting head for a month!" You close the bathroom door behind you.

You hastily drop your pants and turn on the warm shower water. You hear Nicholas fumbling around in your bedroom. and you're not surprised when he practically through the door.

"That was like twenty seconds dude,” You feign disappointment.

Nicholas just shrugs, taking off his shirt in one movement.

"The waters not even warm yet!"

"Don't care!" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, tongues fighting for dominance— not like you'd ever win.

You waste no time untying his sweatpants and pulling them down haphazardly. You go to pull down his underwear but are met with bare skin. You pause and pull away, you giggle as he chases your lips for more, “No underwear? what a slut!" You tease.

"Says the one who lured me in here just to fuck me,” he accuses.

You gasp and wrap your nimble fingers around his half-hard cock. "I didn't call you in here just fuck you!" You defend, running your thumb over his slit— he hisses.

”Why am I here then?” His voice is strained.

You hum, pretending to think deeply about his question. letting go of him you take a step back. He whines at the loss of contact, eyes trained on you as you remove your shirt and underwear.

Now, just as bare as him you step into the water stream. you sigh in delight as the waterfalls around you.

Nicholas steps in behind you, “Baby this water is boiling!”

You chuckle and turn around to change the water temperature for him. With for back facing him he wastes no time landing a loud “thwack” on your bare ass.

“Ow!! Nick what the hell!”

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself!!”

“I'll remember that,” you warn as you pull him closer to you by his waist. “You're so hot,” you playfully bite his chest.

“So are you~” he runs his fingers into your hair and tugs your face up towards him, capturing you in another breathtaking kiss.

His now fully hard cock pressed in between your torsos. Backing up, he pulls you with him until his back meets the shower wall. You recapture his lips in a searing kiss, your greedy hands roaming and feeling his toned body.

You part briefly for air, the both of you breathing heavily. Nicholas’ eyes are deep with desire as he trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips.

As much as you wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of your boyfriend— you had brought him here for a reason. “Let me take care of you,” you offer— pulling back from his grasp.

He looks at you for a moment— pupils blown out in his eager eyes.

He moans pathetically when you finally sink to your knees. “Use me,” you mutter.

“W-what?”

“I want you,” you wrap your hands around the base of his shaft. “To use me,” you kiss up the sides until you reach the tip.

‘A-Are you sure?? I don't want to hurt you!”

“Nicholas,” you state flatly. “I want you to fuck my face. Now.”

He growls, gripping your hair tightly. This is what you've been waiting for!

“Tongue. out,” he demands, you stick out your tongue obediently.

He slaps his red leaking tip on it with his free hand before he presses you all the way down his shaft. He throws his head back and it thumps against the wall behind him as a moan rips through him.

“fuck—” he curses, as he begins his steady rhythm fucking into your mouth.

You run your manicured nails along his toned thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake.

You can feel his cock twitch deep in your throat.

You look up at him through your eyelashes— you moan at his fucked out state. The vibration sends him over the edge as he pulls out of your mouth. The string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip is downright pornographic. Hot ropes of white cum fall on your face and tongue as your boyfriend shouts obscenities from above you.

You rise from your position on the bathtub floor. You reach up and pull Nicholas down for one final kiss— He whines as he tastes himself on your lips.

You pull away, dopey grin on both of your faces. “See now— that. Is why I called you here.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[nonushu]

things svt would do to you (this is just for fun) - ot13

genre: fluff | wc: it’s jot notes | ot13 (separately) x reader a/n: self indulgent ??? you’ll never know 🤗

seungcheol - would drag you or 🥰princess carry🥰 you out your shared home

jeonghan - put his COLD feet on your leg while you’re both sleeping or relaxing

joshua - become the BIGGEST pick-me for you…

jun - feed you cat food on accident

hoshi - would tell everyone you can breakdance (you can’t)

wonwoo - drop his controller on your face while you’re laying on his lap

wooozi - forgot you were sleeping in the car and locked you inside

minghao - steals your clothes and styles it better (10000000000000000x offense taken)

mingyu - sacrifice you in a haunted house 🙄

dokyeom - shamelessly uses your toothbrush (nana tour 😭)

seungkwan - i feel like he’d get all sassy because you corrected his mental math

vernon - leech off of your spotify account and ruin your algorithm (i’d never complain)

dino - would write a SUPER long apology text because he thought you were mad at him for taking your lunch

[yuujispinkhair]

Alpha!Yuuji headcanons

A sweet anon sent me an ask wanting to know my thoughts about Alpha!Yuuji and my brain went grrr. Thank you!! I finally had an excuse to write about this strong and sexy Alpha with the sunshine smile and the knot so thick that it makes us sob ;) As you can see, I wrote this very shamelessly with my omega pussy lol but I hope my fellow Yuuji lovers can enjoy this self-indulgent piece too ;)

Pairing: Alpha!Yuuji x Omega!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, Omegaverse AU Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, omegaverse, smut, breeding, knotting, creampie, pregnancy, biting, a bit of rough sex when Yuuji is in a rut, slight lactation kink, praise, mentions of blood and scars. Yuuji has to kill to protect his pack. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Thank you for the star divider @/benkeibear. There is now fanart for this AU!! Thank you so much to @sandiaarts !!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the strongest Alpha in the city but never planned to become a leader. Until the former boss-Alpha dies and is succeeded by his cruel son, who puts the whole city under his reign of terror. That's when Yuuji's heroic instincts are triggered, and he decides to step up and claim the position as the ruling Alpha.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who you see for the first time during his fight for dominance in a back alley behind a nightclub where the packs are gathered to watch the fight that will decide who becomes their new leader. You get one look at this gorgeous pink-haired Alpha and already know he will win. Tall and buff, with firm muscles and a feral conviction in his golden eyes. A true Alpha!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wins the fight after just a few minutes. He lifts his face while pinning his opponent down, one hand on the man's head and one foot on his back. His golden eyes find you in the crowd, and you feel a shudder run through you, your Omega cunt slicking up just at the sight of this strong and brave Alpha. Your new leader, who you will submit to all too happily.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so attractive with his boyish good looks and that muscular, powerful build. He has such a pretty sunshine smile but also such a broad, tall body packed with buff muscles. His skin is littered with scars that show the feral fighter he is, making him look so sexy and strong that it causes the most primal needs to awaken in you. You want to offer yourself to him, offer your slicked-up Omega cunt to him so he can breed you full of his strong pups.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who finds you later on in the nightclub, where you celebrate his victory. Who smiles sweetly when you congratulate him on his win. Who is so kind and easy to get along with despite how powerful he is. Who tells you he hates fighting, but since he is unfortunately very good at it, he thinks it's his duty to use his fists to protect the ones who are weaker than him.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your Omega cunt throb with his words. All your primal instincts scream that you need this big, strong Alpha who is so brave and kind. You feel dizzy when you smell his enticing scent, filling your nostrils with its sexy, musky smell of wood and sunlight and the deep, rich aroma of ripe cherries. You gulp nervously as you tilt your head to look up at Yuuji's gorgeous face and see the same craving you feel mirrored in his golden eyes.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you only a few minutes later. Bending you over a table in the backroom of the nightclub, his pants and boxer briefs hastily pushed down while he ruts feverishly into you from behind. Riled up from the fight and exhilarated from the victory, needing to sink his Alpha cock into a willing slicked-up Omega cunt to come down again.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who fucks you like the leader that he is now. Who leans down to cage you between his big buff body and the table, interlacing his large fingers with your smaller ones while he fucks into you, making you cream again and again on his fat Alpha cock. His canines graze your skin as if he can hardly restrain himself from marking you as his mate right then and there.

+ Alpha Yuuji, who presses his nose against your neck and sniffs you, inhaling your scent hungrily and moaning against your neck, "Fuck. Fuck. You smell so good, baby." His big, heavy body shudders behind you while you feel him pulse his hot seed into you. And you know at that moment that you want to be his. That you want him to be your Alpha and your mate. You hope he will claim you one day!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who doesn't pull out and leave after your needy fuck, like most new pack leaders would. Many of them would go from unmated Omega to unmated Omega to show them that the new Alpha has a right to take them now. But Yuuji stays with you. His big, broad body slumps against you, his muscular arms wrap around you, hugging you while he kisses your neck, sweet and caring. His seed and your slick run down your thighs in hot sticky rivulets, and your pussy twitches around his gorgeous thick cock, instinctively asking him for more, as if your Omega cunt is begging her Alpha to mate her and claim her for life.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tells you that he needs to see you again when he finally pulls out of you. He turns you around, a large calloused hand cupping your chin tenderly, and he captures your lips in a sweet kiss before he lifts you up and places you on the table so he can clean your pussy with his loving mouth, taking proper care of you, moaning against your wet cunt how sweet of an Omega you are.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who keeps you close after that first night and makes an effort to get to know you. He buys you flowers and chocolates and asks you on dates, making sure to appreciate you and not just see you as a willing and breedable Omega but as a woman he cherishes and adores.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a good pack leader, kind and protective. He is so sweet to the little ones, playing with them and teaching them how to box so they can learn how to protect themselves. He also cares about the older members of the pack, telling them he looked after his sick grandpa for many years and, therefore, understands the struggles of the elderly and that they can always come to him and ask for help. He is a natural leader. A real Alpha. It makes him even more attractive in your eyes, and you catch yourself getting nice and slick for him anytime he is in the same room.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes your scent glands throb hotly anytime he fucks you, your body trying to lure him in, wordlessly signaling to him how bad you want to be his. How bad you want him to mate you. He growls brokenly anytime it happens and licks hungrily over your scent glands, making you cum instantly around his powerful Alpha cock.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is so sweet and caring that he tries to hold back as long as possible before he claims you. Who fucks his balls empty into your sweet Omega cunt and grunts and growls as he tries his best to stop himself from forcefully claiming you as his mate.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you in front of the nightclub that belongs to him now, smiling against your lips while his strong arms hold you so tightly, pulling you against his tall, buff body, offering you a feeling of safety you have never known before. He tells you he loves you while he holds you in his strong arms, and you almost cry from the happiness you feel.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who reaches his breaking point that night after you both confessed your love to each other and pushes his cock extra deep into you, letting you get a little taste of his knot, making you sob in need while he groans in your ear: "I want to mate you so bad, cutie. Want to make you my Omega. I can't hold back much longer, sweetie. Want to mate you and breed you and cherish you and give you my pups. Fuck... please let me mate you! Please be my Omega and my mate!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who waits for your consent even while his muscular body is shaking from the effort it takes to hold back before he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites you with a mating bite that hurts and arouses you at the same time.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you again to seal your bond with another load of his Alpha seed. He fucks you deep and feral, claiming his mate thoroughly, making sure you know how much he loves you and that he is yours now and you are his. He moans and growls and tells you he will give you his knot, will give you his everything for the rest of his life, while mounting you so hard and good that you see stars.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose knot is so big that you are worried you won't be able to take him when you feel the first swelling at his thick base. But Yuuji is such a caring Alpha and such a sweet mate. He soothes you with his low, sexy voice, whispering the sweetest praise to you while he prepares you thoroughly for his knot. He will give you his all, even if it takes hours to prepare you for his knot. He kisses you and rubs slow, tender circles around your swollen clit, loosening your cunt with several orgasms on his cock before he allows his knot to grow and plug you up.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who makes you mewl and orgasm instantly when you finally feel his fat knot plugging you up, claiming you as his alone while he moans I love you's in your ear. His calloused fingers rub your puffy clit, making you squirt over and over again on his fat knot while he pulses his hot seed into you, sealing your mating ritual with both of your cum.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses you deeply and tells you how sweet and beautiful you are while he slowly slips out of you after a night spent mating you. You sigh happily, so content and happy that you found such a strong Alpha and such a caring mate. Yuuji stays with you for hours afterward, refusing to leave your side after such an intimate experience. He holds you tightly, lets you rest and sleep in his strong arms, safe and warm in your mate's embrace, knowing he will take care of you for the rest of his life.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is loved by his whole pack for his kindness and strength. A caring and protective Alpha. His large, calloused hands touch you with so much love and tenderness, but they can also deal the hardest punches against the ones who dare attack his pack. And if anyone tries to hurt his mate, Yuuji will see red and become a feral predator so powerful that his enemies will grovel before him and beg for mercy.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who won't start a fight without a reason. But he hunts down the ones who break the rules of peace and are cruel and dangerous to others. He kills if he has to, but it bothers him greatly to take a life, and he always seeks comfort and reassurance in your arms after every kill.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who comes back home to you after a deadly fight with bloody scratches all over his body, which will heal into a few more sexy scars that show his dominance and strength. There's a feral glint in his golden eyes, making them glow like two full moons, angry and unrelenting. The eyes of a powerful predator who was forced to unleash his fury against his enemies. A gaze that makes you moan and grab the bed sheets tightly, your legs instinctively falling open to present your panty-clad slick cunt to this strong Alpha in front of you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who craves you badly after every kill. Who rips off his shirt and lets it fall to the ground, looking at you with that feral, primal need in his eyes while he opens his belt with one large hand, so riled up from the fight and ready to fuck his anger into the comforting wet heat of your sweet Omega cunt.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose buff body is bloody and sweaty from the fight. Veins standing out on his taut, flexed muscles. His fight triggered a rut, making his thick fat Alpha cock slap heavily against his firm abs when he frees himself from his trousers. The irresistible primal scent of his pheromones fills the whole room, making the slick run down your thighs even before Yuuji has laid a single finger on you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who tears your soaked panties down, presses his face against your slick cunt, and growls wildly when he inhales your scent and licks up your sweet slick. He needs to fuck all his worries and anger into you. Needs you so bad to make things ok again. He growls a thank you after you tell him to let it all out on you, to fuck you as hard as he needs. "Don't hold back, Yuuji. I can take it. Fuck me as hard as you need, Alpha."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always fucks you harder after a kill. Using his strength on you and manhandling you with rough, calloused hands. He growls when he has you on all fours for him, with your cute ass in the air and legs spread, presenting him your pretty Omega cunt to claim and fuck. He groans behind you, low and feral, in full Alpha mode, giving your ass a hard slap as he splits you open around his fat cockhead.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who mounts you wild and hard, slapping your ass and fucking you with rough hard thrusts that go so deep that you howl with the most primal need and lust every time he ruts into you. He takes you in such a primal way, like an animal, hard and deep, while biting your neck and drooling all over your skin. He is so loud and feral, not holding back at all, fucking you unrelentingly from one orgasm to the next.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who only pulls out after he has exhausted himself completely, taking all his anger and pain out on your sweet, willing Omega cunt. You know that on those kinds of nights, he needs you to give him comfort, and so you pull him in your arms, hug him and cuddle him, and stroke his pretty pink hair, telling him he did the right thing and that you are so proud of him for protecting his pack. "You are such a good Alpha. And such a good man."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who not only wants you as his mate, but also as his wife, giving you a double promise of always protecting and loving you. Now you wear his teeth imprint on your neck and a beautiful golden wedding band on your ring finger.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose need to breed is so strong that he practically begs you to please let him fuck his pups into you anytime he smells your heat approaching. Your fertile pussy always drives him insane, making him lick up your slick needily while shooting his first load all over the bedsheets and himself, unable to hold back with your sweet taste filling his mouth and nose.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is the happiest man ever, when you tell him you stopped taking your birth control. "I want your babies, Yuuji. Want to give you so many cute and strong pups, just like their daddy." And your man instantly has you under him, pinning you to the bed with his heavy, muscular body, snapping his hips furiously, shooting load after load into you while thanking you. "Thank you, baby, oh fuck, thank you so much! I will give you so many cute pups, my angel! Will fuck so many into you!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who always breeds you anytime he claims you, now that he knows you want his pups. He fucks to breed. He wants a whole litter of cute little pups with you. He moans and growls ferally into your ear while he mounts you from behind and fucks you with such savage, needy, and deep thrusts that he almost breaks the bed.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who loves to put you in a mating press with you all needy under his heavy buff body, your knees pressed to your tits while he bucks his hips ferally against you, going wild at the thought of his fat cock so deep in you.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who wants to knock you up so bad that he is in a permanent rut now, triggering your heat over and over again, making you so wet and horny for him that you can barely walk anymore.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who has so much stamina that when he knots you, his knot stays inside you all night. Slow rolls of his hips while he is in you balls-deep, shooting thick load after load of his hot fertile seed into you, his balls so big and heavy that they slap loudly against your slicked-up swollen clit, making you cum over and over again until you are delirious from it, babbling how much you need him, "Please, Yuu, please make me a mommy. Please gimme your pups, baby."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who hugs you in his strong, buff arms and kisses your neck and lips lovingly while his knot is throbbing in you and plugging you up to keep his hot, fertile seed deep in you, breeding his sweet wife so thoroughly while praising you the whole time. "Look at you taking my knot so well. Fuck, I love you so much, cutie. I can't wait to see your belly so big and swollen with our pups. You'll be such a beautiful mommy."

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose seed is strong and fertile and takes immediately. He smiles brightly at you and hugs you tightly when you tell him you are pregnant. He goes out to buy materials to build a cradle immediately, so eager and excited to start his family with you. And then repeats the same thing a few weeks later when you find out he fucked twins into you on the first try.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is always very protective but gets even worse when you carry his pups in you. Who growls at everyone who comes too close to you, always ensuring his mate and pups are safe. Who leaves his scent all over you to keep potential threats away.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who goes feral when your belly grows. He loves you so much, and it drives him crazy with lust and love to see that he successfully bred you, making you round and big with his pups, with his strong and chubby babies. It makes Yuuji so hard to see you like that. He has to take you every night while he caresses your belly and kneads your swollen tits, already milking a bit of milk out of them that he hungrily licks up.

+ Alpha! Yuuji, who pulls out of your cunt and cums all over your swollen belly because the sight turns him on so much.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who kisses and licks you clean afterward before he rests his head on your belly and talks to his little ones, telling them how much their mommy and daddy love them. And he looks up at you with those gleaming golden eyes full of love and tells you, "And I also love you so much, baby. Thank you for being my mate and my wife. I am so lucky!"

+ Alpha!Yuuji, whose genes are very dominant, so all your pups will have his pink hair. But you definitely don't mind because it looks so cute when your twins are born with a soft tuft of pink hair on their little heads! Your pups are two big, strong boys with chubby thighs and cheeks and loud voices. Strong, just like their daddy.

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who is such a proud mate and daddy. He never gets tired of spending time with his wife and his little ones. He gets up in the middle of the night to feed and cuddle his little boys so his sweet wife can rest. He carries the twins around in his strong arms, showing them off all proudly with a big happy smile on his face, cooing at them, playing with them, and petting their pink hair. And you watch him with happy tears in your eyes, so happy that you found such a good Alpha and loving husband!

+ Alpha!Yuuji, who beams at you and pulls you against his buff, tall body to kiss you thoroughly. Who doesn't let you go again because his heart feels so full and his cock is already swelling again, knowing that you are such a good mommy and such a sweet mate. He needs to bend you over the nearest surface and mount you again until your cute Omega cunt is stuffed with his fertile seed again, making more cute little pink-haired pups with the love of his life.

FUCKKKKK HE MAKES ME FERAL!! I don't know why, but there is something about Yuuji that fits Omegaverse so well, in my opinion. My head is spinning!!! Thank you so much, dear anon, for sending me this ask! When I wrote my Sukuna Omegaverse story, I already low-key wanted to write for Yuuji (and Megumi) too, and you motivated me to do so!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked Alpha!Yuuji and enjoyed this sexy little story!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

[honeyedmiller]

Pretty Little Thing | Joel Miller

joel miller x oc!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

synopsis: it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.

warnings: original female character, no outbreak (game) joel, joel has a hidden identity in this for a bit, joel is taller than reader, joel can pull reader’s hair, reader is mentioned to blush once, joel indulges in virtual sex work, joel has no kids in this, flirting, talks of masturbation, smut (protected sex, blowjob, consensual choking, spitting, hair pulling, many ass slaps, edging, squirting, name calling, ass play), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: this is entirely self indulgent. sorry for the small writing hiatus, life has been insanely busy. thanks for being patient with me as i ease back into writing fanfic.

-

It was like clockwork. 

Every day was the same. 

The same regulars, the same orders being put in, the same rushes. 

The lunch rush usually died down around two, which gave you time to prepare for the dinner rush before five. 

It was funny, really. You never thought that such a tiny diner off of Interstate 35, tucked in a corner on the outskirts of Austin, would have such an attraction as it does. 

Maybe it was the house favorite flapjacks you guys sold. Maybe it was the friendly hospitality you and your favorite coworker, Betty, gave to new and familiar faces. Hell, maybe it was the half-decent coffee and the low prices for everything that kept everyone coming in and coming back. 

Either way, it was all the same every single day. 

Until today. 

Usually, there’d be no more than three stragglers from lunch, and no one would come in until around five. 

The little bell above the door chimed as someone walked in, and Betty tapped you on the shoulder with a pleading look in her eyes. 

You averted your gaze from the sugar pourers you were refilling, giving her a small smile. 

“Honey, I’m sorry, I was about to take my break. Can you take that table for me? I need a cig after this morning’s rush.” Her blonde-gray hair was in disarray and her voice was scratchy and desperate. 

“No problem. Enjoy your break.” 

“Bless you, sweetheart.” 

You brush off the straggling sugar crystals that stuck to your hands on your black apron, pulling out your pad of paper and pen before approaching the man that sat with his back facing you. 

You muster up the best smile you can before stopping at the booth, ready to jot down his order. 

“Hello sir, how are you doin’ today?” You ask, and he looks up from the menu with a grin. 

The first thing you notice is his eyes. They’re a warm and inviting shade of hazel; a mixture of a beautiful green that reflects off of his tan skin and an amber as smooth as whiskey. 

Then you notice his lips. Pink and plush. Kissable. 

And then there’s the smile hidden behind the lips. Bright, pearly whites that take your breath away and make your heart palpitate, because god, why is he so handsome? 

It’s like he won the genetic lottery or something.

The mustache above his lips and the scruff on his jawline matches his dark hair with a few silver strands peeking through; the only identifier of his prospective age. 

His lips pull up into a smirk as he watches you shamelessly checking him out. Truthfully, you want him to watch you watching him. 

He clears his throat and your eyes snap back up to his. You tilt your head to the side and study him for a moment further before he finally speaks. 

“I’ll take a black coffee n’ the number three please. Eggs over easy.” 

You write down his order and your brows furrow as he speaks. Something about his voice sounds so… familiar. 

“Midday breakfast?” You tease, and he offers you a shrug and a grin. “It’ll be right out, sir.” You gingerly take the menu from him and walk back behind the counter. 

His voice keeps ringing through your head as you ring in his order on the POS system. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but his voice was attractive nonetheless — deep and gruff, yet sweet and polite. 

Where the hell have you heard that voice before? 

And then it hits you. 

Fuck. 

Oh, fuck. 

That man’s voice has brought you more orgasms than you can possibly even count. 

In a desperate need to get yourself off one night, you explored your options until you came across a faceless account. It was his broad body and thick, muscular arms that caught your attention. And — yeah, okay, maybe his deliciously girthy cock, too. 

The final nail in the coffin was that thick, syrupy Southern drawl that reeled you in and immersed you in a world full of pleasure. 

His voice and groans alone have made you come harder than any man you’ve ever been with. 

Your throat goes dry as you look back at him, tucked into the booth he chose to sit at, looking at his phone. 

You mindlessly pour his coffee and bring it out to his table, legs seemingly floating in his direction.

You set the coffee cup down on his table. His large hand grabs the cup, making it look nearly miniature. 

Your mind was fuzzy and your core suddenly had an aching throb as you thought of his hands exploring your body; what they’d feel like all over you and — god, get a fucking grip. 

“Was there anythin’ else I can get for you?” You ask as nonchalant as you can muster up. 

“Nope, that’ll do it darlin’. Thank you.” The crinkles beside his eyes deepen in the slightest as he tosses a polite smile your way. 

“Food should be out in a couple of minutes.” You rap your knuckles on the table once before turning around to finish topping off the sugar pourers. 

The chef chimed the bell indicating the handsome man’s food was done. You wipe your hands on your apron once more before sucking in a breath. 

You decided to shoot your shot and call him out by his screen name. You were confident it was him. 

You saw no wedding band on his finger, either, so what the hell, right? Worst that could happen is he rejects your advances. 

You grab his plate from the kitchen window and head toward his table. Your palms start to sweat and you’re nervous as hell, because fuck, a face like that is hard to forget. 

You set the plate down in front of him and he softly thanks you. You hesitate for a second before tucking a stray hair that had fallen out of your braid behind your ear, shooting a wink his way. 

“Anytime, Mr. Ryder. Let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 

He pauses before looking up at you again, eyebrows furrowing. 

“How do you—?” He starts, clearing his throat as his eyes travel down your figure. 

“I’m a fan of your work.” You shrug, passing it off like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I see,” He looks back at the now empty diner, gaze shifting back to you. “Wanna sit for a minute and chat?” His voice holds sincerity and — god, let it be — desire. 

You nod and hold a finger up to him. “Just a sec.” 

You walk back to the counter, catching Betty at a perfect time. She grins at you as she re-ties her apron around her waist. 

You jerk your head back to Ryder. “The guy over there wants to chat for a few. Mind if I take a break?” 

“Go ‘head baby. Not like we got a ton ‘a people to serve.” She laughs, and you shoot her a smile. 

“Thanks, Betty.” 

You untie your apron from your waist and walk back over to his booth. He gestures for you to slide into the side opposite of him, and you clumsily settle into the worn leather bench. 

He chews on a piece of bacon before his gaze roams your face, seemingly studying you before he swallows. 

“So, what’s the first video you watched?” He asks, and you feel your face burn with a blush. You thought he’d be more subtle, but it’s better to lay the cards on the table you suppose. 

“Truthfully, I’ve scrolled all the way to the bottom of your page and have probably watched every single one.” You shrug at your confession, and that pulls a smirk out of him. 

“What about your favorite?” His tone is almost challenging, but truthfully, he’s intrigued. Never did he think anyone could recognize him by just his voice. 

Joel was careful not to show his face on camera. He wanted to keep himself a mystery—the gruff, sexy voice of a suave cowboy and his perfect body that he shared with the world—a secret. 

“It’s probably gonna have to be the one where you’re pretty much just talkin’ the viewer through it and, fuck, this is kinda embarrassing but we’re already here,” You huff, and Joel shakes his head and urges you to continue. “When I watch that video, I’ve kinda timed it to make myself come the same time you do.” 

“Not embarrassin’, sugar. That’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever confessed to me.” 

“Yeah, well, when you got a voice like yours and a dry spell like mine, it’s the perfect mix for a most blissful—” Joel’s hearty laugh cut you off, and you couldn’t help but admire him from across the table. 

He was so fucking handsome and you genuinely couldn’t believe you were seeing the man who’s made you come more times than you can count without even fucking touching you, in person. 

“Can I see your notepad and pen real quick, baby?” He asks, gesturing down to your lap. You shuffle the items out of your apron pocket before sliding them across the table, and at the click of the pen, he starts to write something down. 

You lick your lips and cross your arms over your torso, lolling your head to the side. He clicks the pen once more before sliding it back over to you with the notepad. 

You look down at what he’s written, to see his fake name, phone number and an address. 

“Whenever you get off, gimme a call n’ come over if you’d like. No pressure though, sugar.” 

Holy fuck. 

No way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity, so you shoot a smirk his way and tuck the paper into your apron pocket. 

Play. It. Cool. 

“I get off in about,” You look down at your watch, twisting your lips to the side. “An hour.” 

You try to keep your voice steady, but your heart is thumping in your chest and your desperate, aching cunt. 

“Sounds good,” He raps his knuckles on the wooden table before grinning at you, nudging your foot in the slightest before he finishes off his breakfast for lunch. “Just the check, sugar. Then I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“I’d rather you pull it than get out of it.” You grin wickedly at the astonished man in front of you, sliding out of the booth. 

You walk away to the counter before he can retort and ring the check up for his meal, but before you can bring it back to him, he slaps two twenties on the counter before you. 

His thick fingers find their way to your wrist and give it a squeeze as he leans down to you and whispers his next words. 

“Hope I can satisfy you in more ways than one, baby. See ya in an hour,” He straightens back up before looking down at the twin Jacksons staring back at the both of you, “Keep the change.” 

He walks out without another word, without looking back, and it leaves you nearly winded. 

“What was that all about?” Betty asks, sidling up beside you as she gently nudges your ribs.

“Looks like I got a hot date.” You half joke. 

“If I was thirty years younger I woulda been all over that too, baby,” A hearty laugh escapes her and she shoots a wink your way. “Have fun tonight.” 

-

The hour goes by surprisingly fast and you find yourself almost scurrying to your car after you clock out. You toss your apron into the passenger seat of your car and immediately roll down the windows. 

The AC decided to give out on you about a week ago, and of course it was during a time where it was hotter than the devil’s fucking asshole outside. 

You groan as you close your eyes, the heat already making you miserable. At least the diner had a good central air system. 

You peel your eyes open to fish the paper out of your apron pocket with Ryder’s number and address on it, dialing the numbers scrawled across in blue ink. 

After the second ring, his rich voice picked up on the other end of the line. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Ryder. ‘M off work now if you still want me to head to your place.” 

“Hey sugar. Head on over. There’s a spot in the driveway for ya.” 

“See you soon.” 

Nerves coursed through your veins as the line went dead. You type in his address into your phone, and to your surprise, he only lived fifteen minutes away. 

You threw your car in drive and you were off, the hot air whipping through the cab of your car. 

It was truly unlike you to do something so bold like this. 

You never went to strangers houses, always ignored when you got hit on at the diner, rejected offers from several men for what would probably be a night full of mediocre sex—and yet, there was something about this man that you couldn’t shake off. 

Even with just video evidence of this man’s gruff voice, veiny cock and skillful hands, you could just tell he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to a quiet neighborhood. His house was on the right hand side, and you pulled up into the driveway next to his black truck. 

You took a deep breath before looking at yourself in the mirror of your sun visor before touching up with some lip gloss. You spray your perfume on your pulse points before deciding to stop stalling and finally get out of your car before psyching yourself out. 

Your beat up work shoes scuff the concrete path leading up to Ryder’s door, and you swallow thickly before you knock. 

Thirty seconds later, a now shirtless Southern gentleman answers the door, hazel eyes catching yours as you stare up at him in awe. 

“Well fuck me.” You mutter under your breath as you study his handsome face and his thick, toned torso. 

“Tha’s the plan, sugar.” His deep voice shoots straight down to your core, nearly making you audibly moan. 

He steps aside to let you into his house, which is surprisingly warm and inviting. It’s cozy with its worn-in furnishings and family photos on the walls. It smells like him too; something earthy and musky and delicious. 

He guides you into the living room with his hand on your lower back, touch sending a chill down your spine. 

“Make yourself cozy, darlin’. Would y’like anythin’ to drink?” 

“Whiskey, neat please. If you have it.” You respond, and he softly smiles at you before nodding and retreating into the kitchen. You can’t help but watch him walk away with the muscles clearly rippling in his back as he walks, all the way down to the back dimples he has. 

There’s no fucking way this man is real. 

You sigh and settle onto the couch, folding your hands into your lap after setting your purse and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 

It’s only a couple of minutes before Ryder reappears before you, handing you a glass of amber liquid. You thank him and sip on it graciously, the smooth taste gliding down your throat and going straight to your already throbbing core. 

He sits next to you and slings his arm over the back of the couch, allowing himself to get comfortable as if this occurrence is the most natural thing in the world. 

Fuck, maybe it might be for him. You wouldn’t really be surprised considering the charm and suave demeanor he possesses. 

“You can relax, darlin’. ‘M not gonna try anythin’ or touch ya without your consent.” 

Your shoulders visibly relax at that, not even noticing they were tense to begin with. He didn’t give you bad vibes or scare you. He made you nervous—a feeling you haven’t felt with a man in a very long time. 

“So,” You start, voice scratchy from talking so much hours prior and the burn of the whiskey affecting your throat, “You usually bring women home like this?” You’re half teasing and half curious, wanting to see if this really is a regular occurrence for him. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and practically vibrates the whole couch. “No, sugar. You’d be the first t’ even recognize me just by my voice. Gotta say, ‘m pretty impressed with that. Guess you’re a regular viewer then, I take it.” 

Now he’s the one teasing, but there’s a knowing tone in his voice. You didn’t even have to say it. He knows. 

There’s really no point in denying how turned on he gets you, so you just… let it happen. 

You feel a little looser with the whiskey swimming in your veins, giving you the bit of courage you mustered up within the past minute or so. You sink into the couch further, spreading your legs enough to keep the man curious. 

He watches you wearily, eyes trained on your body and the signals you were emitting. 

“You’re the only man that can get me off now. You’ve got me wrapped around those skillful fingers, Mr. Ryder.” Your voice sounds more smooth and sultry than you expected it to, but it was definitely working in your favor. 

“These skillful fingers would love to show you a thing or two, baby.” His fingers twitch around the glass he holds tightly; clearly a form of self-restraint. 

You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. 

“Show me.” You say. 

A small groan emits from the back of his throat. 

You suck in a breath as your eyes notice his going completely dark, drowning in desire for you. His once bright hazel eyes have since been replaced with something deeper than a simple need to satiate. 

It was fucking carnal. 

He downs the rest of his drink and licks his lips, patting his jean-clad thigh. 

“Sit on my lap. Back against my chest.” He commands, and you try to smoothly maneuver yourself onto him just as he’d asked. 

Once you’re settled on top of him, he gently grips onto both of your knees to spread your legs apart so they’re on either side of his thick thighs. 

Your lips part and you don’t even notice you’re breathing heavier until you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Relax, baby. ‘M gonna make you feel good. If you need me to stop, just tap my thigh twice and hard. Got it?” 

“Yes.” You whisper, nearly shaking in anticipation. 

“Good.” 

And his hands are grazing up your legs to the inner part of your thighs, delicately tracing your skin. Goosebumps raise at his featherlight touch, and before you know it, he’s spreading his own legs wider to spread yours. 

You were aching and damp even back at the diner as you sat with him in the booth, studying his handsome features. The cool air of the home hits the dampness on the cotton panties you wore. 

Ryder’s fingers made their way up to the lace trim of your panties, causing you to softly whimper for him. You genuinely didn’t think you needed anyone to touch you so fucking bad in your life. 

You didn’t want to come off whiny and absolutely desperate, so you kept your pathetic begging to yourself. 

“So wet already, pretty girl. This all for me?” 

You can’t muster up the words because your brain is simply mush at this point, and all you want is his fingers on you, and fuck, in you. 

“You know I respect you, right baby?” 

Respect you? 

You’ve only known this man—physically—for a few hours, albeit knowing his voice and his body long before he’d even tell you his real name. 

And yet, there’s a comfort in his presence. One that would have you willing to do nearly anything for him—with him. 

And all you could do was meekly nod your head at his words, his Southern twang dripping in honey—buzzing into your veins. 

You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression on your face, though, wondering why he’d ask such a thing. 

He shoots you a devilish smile. 

“Good, ‘cuz for the next few minutes it’s gonna look like I don’t.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You mewl, tossing your head back onto his shoulder. He noses at your jaw, littering kisses and small nips all along your jawline and neck as he slides your panties to the side.

He slides his middle finger through your slick slit, moving up to circle your already sensitive clit. You shudder at the touch, clamping your eyes shut as you softly moan. 

“Fuck baby, you’re drippin’ already. This what I do to ya? You get this wet when you’re by yourself and you’re bein’ a dirty fuckin’ girl gettin’ yourself off to my videos? Hm?” 

His deep voice vibrates through your body, finger traveling down to your entrance. He teases you as he slips the tip of his finger into you—nothing more—and moves it back out. 

He continues this a few times, and when you don’t answer him, he slaps your dripping cunt lightly. You gasp and grip onto his forearm that was wrapped around your torso. 

“Answer me.” 

“God, yes, I–I fuckin’ love your videos. You always get me this wet. Every time. You’re just so—fuck—goddamn hot.” 

He chuckles at your blabbering. “Hot, huh? You think that highly of me?” 

“Ryder,” You moan as he fully sinks his middle finger into you. He stops his movements and it takes everything in you not to rock your hips. 

“Joel.” 

“W-what?” 

“I want you moaning my real name, baby.” 

Joel. 

Joel. 

That name is somehow very fitting for him, and lucky for you, it rolls off the tongue easily. 

“Joel.” You test it, and his grip on you tightens. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, sinking a second finger into you. You moan at the feeling, long fingers hitting spots yours never could. He curls his fingers to hit that exact spot and you cry out in pleasure. 

You can feel Joel’s cocky smirk on his lips as he kisses your braided hair, likely in a complete disarray at this point. 

The squelching noise that reverberated throughout his living room was truly obscene, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. In fact, it seemed to spur him on as he twisted his wrist and worked his fingers faster, pressing into that spot inside of you that had you choking on your own moans. 

Without warning, you felt yourself nearly at the brink of your orgasm—and Joel pulls his fingers out of you. You cry in desperation, the beautiful build up completely dissipated. 

“Not. Yet.” Joel’s mouth was next to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he worked you through the edging. 

He didn’t stop after that, though. He kept the momentum going, sliding his other hand from your torso down to your swollen clit. He slowly starts to rub small circles onto the already overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you cry out a strangled moan as the feeling surges through your body. 

“Now.” He says. 

Your mind was going blank at this point and a pressure kept building and building and building—until you felt a huge gush, forceful and draining. Your eyes snap open to see clear liquid dripping all down the couch. 

“Fuck, Joel I’m sor—”

“Don’t you dare apologize baby. You ever done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He moans at your wordless response and readjusts himself beneath you, and you can suddenly feel how hard he is in his jeans. 

Even through the denim he felt fucking big, and you knew you were in for it. 

“Let me,” You start, shakily sliding off of his lap and onto the floor. “Let me take care of you.” 

Joel watches you and the same muscle in his jaw ticks furiously. He nods without another word as you lean up to kiss the hot skin above his jeans, trailing your lips down to the hemline. You undo the button and zipper swiftly, and he lifts his hips to pull his pants and boxers down to his mid thigh. 

Your hunch was correct: he’s fucking huge. You swallow as you take in the sight of his cock in-person rather than over a screen, and it was even better than you’d imagined all those times. 

You gently grab the base of his silky flesh, giving it a soft squeeze as you move your hand to the tip. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he’s watching you intently. You smile sweetly up at him before bringing your head down to lick the pre come from his slit, moaning as you get a taste of the salty musk. 

Joel’s hand flies to your head, threading his fingers through the loose braid as you slowly lick your way down the vein on the underside of his cock. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” You say, and he groans at your praise. “Even better than I imagined.” 

You bring your tongue back up to the tip and take him in your mouth this time, going as far down as you could before you gagged softly. 

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that. Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me,” He mewls as you set a faster pace, one of your hands coming to pump the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach with your mouth, the other gently fondling his balls. 

You moan around him as his silky flesh easily glides onto your tongue. You enjoy getting him off like this; unraveling him inch by inch just as he’s done to you many times before. 

He began to rock his hips up into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try your damndest to not forcefully gag around him. 

“Mouth feels so goddamn good on me, honey. ‘M not gonna last much longer.” Joel confesses, and your tighten your lips around his cock to silently urge him to let go. 

It was only another minute until his hips completely stilled and his pulsing cock was drained, salty spend coating your mouth in haste. 

He groans loudly as he reaches down to cradle your jaw, slowly sliding your mouth off of him. You swallow his spend and sit back on your heels, looking up at him innocently. 

“On your knees, baby. Ass up.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and you happily oblige. He pulls the skirt of your uniform up over your hips and slides your wet panties down your legs so you’re on full display for him. 

You feel his hands slide over the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to get a good look at all of you. You suck in a breath for a second before you feel his fingers slide through your slick folds once more, teasing you so. 

“You ever had a man touch you back here? Pretty little thing.” He asks as his thumb circles the tight ring of your ass. 

“No.” You moan, closing your eyes as you press a cheek to the couch cushion. 

“Hm. ‘S a shame. Feels real good.” 

“Please, Joel.” You truly weren’t above begging for this man to touch you in any way possible. 

“Please what, sugar?” 

“Please—please touch me. Make me feel good. Even better than I already feel.” 

You turn your head more to lock eyes with him staring down at you with a look of determination and hunger. 

He keeps his eyes locked on you as he grabs his half-hard cock, reaching to the coffee table beside you both to grab the foil packet you didn’t even see until this very moment. 

He rips it open and slides it on before sliding his cock through your slick folds. You sigh in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before you open them again as his tip notches your entrance. 

“You ready baby?” 

You nod your head, but he shakes his. 

“Need your words this time darlin’.” 

“Yes Joel. Please.” 

He sinks into you slowly, his girth stretching you out so deliciously. It stung a little, because in truth, you’ve never been with anyone his size. 

Once he’s fully sheathed into you, he shoots you that same wicked grin before letting spit slowly dribble out of his mouth and onto your asshole. 

“Oh fuck me,” You whisper, moaning as his thumb circles the tight ring once again. “Please.” You say, and he hooks his thumb gently into you. 

You feel so full like this, barely even able to comprehend the fact that you’re about to get fucked by your favorite adult content creator. 

Joel starts to rock his hips slowly at first, moaning at how tight you are. He picks up his pace once you’re both comfortable and it feels like he’s punching your fucking gut. 

It’s almost unbearable— but the pleasure outweighs the pain by a mile. He’s rocking his hips so hard that the couch starts to scrape onto the floor, nothing but skin  slapping on skin. You feel a sting on your left asscheek and moan at the contact, realizing Joel had slapped you. 

He does it again, and again, and again, until tears are in your eyes and you can no longer bear the sting. 

“Pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby. Was meant to take this cock, hm?” He says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but agree with him. 

His hand slides up your back and reaches your hair, pulling it so your head tilts upward. 

“So fuckin’ pretty like this. Love the way you feel around me.” He confesses, taking his thumb out of your tight muscle before wrapping his other arm around your torso once, only to pull you upright this time. 

He’s pistoning into you as you lean back onto his body. His hand wraps gently around your throat as he scatters more kisses onto your jawline and up your earlobe. 

“Can I?” He asks, and you choke out a meek yes. 

His large hand wraps all the way around your throat, squeezing the sides. Joel turns his head down to look at you, all helpless as he fucks you relentlessly. 

Your jaw hangs open and your eyes are squeezed shut, relishing in the all-consuming feeling of Joel. 

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

You open your eyes as you plead his name, feeling another orgasm burning within you. 

He moves his fingers up from your throat to grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he spits into it. 

“Swallow.” He commands, and you don’t question him one bit. 

He likes seeing you like this—submissive and practically breedable—and yet, he barely knew you. He knew he wanted that to change after this, though.

“Joel I’m gonna come.” Your voice is hoarse and desperate, trying so hard to keep the feeling of pleasure at bay. 

It was no use, though. The way he was looking at you made you want to fucking risk it all, and when he finally bent his face down to kiss you, you knew it was a wrap. 

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as your tongues tangled together, tasting each other and exploring one another. 

It wasn’t long before the coil finally snapped for you, and seconds later, him as well. You both panted heavily as you were submerged in the post-coital bliss. 

“You did so good, baby. Hopefully I lived up to your expectations.” 

You huff a laugh at his words as he pulls out of you and  shuffles himself down onto the couch, pulling you on top of him. He kisses the top of your head as he plays with your hair, a strange feeling blooming in his chest as you both enjoy the presence of one another. 

One thing’s for sure and two things for certain: 

You’re everything he’s wanted, and he didn’t even know how to tell you. There was no way he was letting you go now. 

-

tags: @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @nostalxgic @party-hearses

@joelsgreys @ozarkthedog