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sheerfreesia007 · 3 days

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Masterpiece of a Confession

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 1,802

Content warnings: Fluff, mention of alcohol

Summary: You and Hyunjin have made plans to hang out tonight. What happens when you find him a gift that he’s been eager to get his hands on, and when you present it to him he confesses to you?

Seoltang: Sugar

There was just something so comforting to you whenever you went shopping for hobby supplies. The store was perfectly lit to be able to show you all the colors of the materials that you were looking to buy. Not to mention all the sales that would normally come along. As you walked slowly down the aisle with all the multicolored yarn and thread you smiled softly while your hands gently trailed over the ones you liked. You picked out a few for a project that you were just starting and then a few more that caught your attention.

Just as you moved further down the aisle your cellphone began to ring and you smiled when you recognized who the ringtone was for. Fishing the device out of your bag you quickly answered the phone and held it to your ear still smiling.

”Hey Jinnie.” You greet him happily and he chuckles softly on the other end.

”Hi Seoltang, where are you right now?” He greeted and asked kindly. You could hear the smile in his voice as you continued to walk down the aisle perusing the merchandise.

”At the craft store picking up some material for my new project.” You tell him as you stop to look at some hand dyed material that catches your eye.

”Do you want to come hang out later once I’m done with this photoshoot? I miss you.” He says softly into the phone as if he doesn’t want anyone else to hear how sweet and soft he’s being. You smile to yourself at his tone, Hyunjin has always been like this with you. He was always able to relax and be himself whenever he was with you and you loved that about your relationship. Plus the fact that you were able to be such a comfort to him made your heart sing with joy.

”Of course I do. Do you want me to pick up some food for us and Changbin?” You ask him kindly when you turn down the paint aisle and smile softly at the reminder of your friend.

”Changbin’s going out with Jisung and Chan tonight. It’s just going to be the two of us.” Hyunjin responds and you nod your head at his words as you spot Hyunjin’s favorite brand of paint before walking over to it.

”Alright so then I’ll grab us some food, anything in particular you’d like?” You ask as you grab some of the paint colors that you know he runs out of a lot and slip them into your basket.

”I don’t know, comfort food?” He muses curiously and you nod your head knowing exactly what he means. Today had been a bit of a gloomy overcast day and it really should’ve kept you in your cozy bed but you were on a mission to get all of your errands done.

”Italian from that little mom and pop place not far from your apartment?” You ask curiously and Hyunjin gasps and hums in delight.

”Oh you read my mind.” He gushes out softly and you chuckle at him as your eyes continue down the shelves of paints when suddenly something catches your eye. “Maybe we can try some of those Aracini balls that we weren’t able to try last time.” He suggested and you hummed in agreement.

”Oooh that sounds great. I’ll make sure to get an order of those for us.” You tell him as you move down the aisle closer to the multicolored box in hopes that it was what you thought it was. Hyunjin had been going on and on about this paint set that he wanted to try but every time he tried to get it in any craft store they were always sold out, as you reached up and grabbed the box you nearly let out a squeal in delight! It was the same set that he had been talking about, and luckily for you it looked like it was the last one on the shelf.

“Well I really called you to talk about our days but it looks like I don’t have that long of a break today.” Hyunjin sighed softly and you frowned in response to his words before beaming as you slipped the paint set into your basket.

”That’s okay Jinnie, we’ll have all of tonight to talk about our days.” You reassured him sweetly and he hummed softly in response.

”I can’t wait to see you tonight Seoltang.” He said softly. “I’ll see you later, I gotta get back now.”

”I’ll see you later Jinnie.” You respond happily and hang up the phone before quickly making your way to the registers to pay for your things. You were eager to get home so that you could wrap the gift for him and give it to him tonight when you saw him.

*-*-*-*

Your trek up to Hyunjin and Changbins’ apartment is an easy one for you as you eagerly stride up the stairs two at a time. You’ve got your tote bag that holds the wrapped gift for Hyunjin as well as a bottle of wine that you found in the family owned restaurant when you went to pick up your dinner order. It had looked and sounded like something the two of you would enjoy together while eating so you had bought it.

Just as you make it to the top step of their floor you stop for a second letting yourself catch your breath and you hear a soft sweet giggle coming from the side. Turning your head you grin at a giggling Changbin who eyes you happily.

”That eager to get to him yah?” He asks knowingly and you blush softly at his teasing which causes him to giggle more. “Don’t worry he’s just as eager for you.” He says before giving you a quick hug and then continuing on down the stairs. “I’ll sleep over at Chan’s place tonight so don’t worry if you have a sleepover.” He calls over his shoulder teasingly.

”Changbin!” You scold softly and he giggles loudly once more at you before waving at you over his shoulder.

”Was Changbin giving you a hard time?” Hyunjin asks you and you turn your head to see him standing in the doorway of his apartment looking at you worriedly. You grin at him happily and he reciprocates the grin with one of his own sweet smiles. “I’ll beat him up for you.” He offers and you laugh happily as you excitedly make your way over to him and wrap him in a tight hug.

”No, no nothing like that. Just a bit of teasing.” You explain as you bury your face in his worn cotton t-shirt. “And I’d never ask you to do that.” You scold him softly as he grins down at you while wrapping his arms tightly around you.

”The offer still stands.” He says with a shrug before guiding you into the apartment. “Wanna get changed in your pjs first and then we’ll eat on the couch while watching a drama?” He asks when he finally lets you go so that he could close and lock the door.

”Yes please.” You sigh out happily as you slip your shoes off and go to set the bag of dinner on the kitchen island and pull out the wine bottle as well. “I bought wine from the restaurant too. Sounded like something we’d enjoy.” You tell him over your shoulder as you walk away to the bathroom so that you could go get changed.

”Oooh, this is a good one. Good choice!” Hyunjin calls out and you chuckle softly as you quickly get changed into your pjs before walking back out to find that Hyunjin had already set up dinner on the coffee table and was just pulling up a recent drama that the two of you had gotten into. “C’mere Seoltang.” He calls from his spot on the couch and you grin while rushing over to tackle him in a tight hug causing him to laugh happily at your actions. The two of you stay like that for a few quiet moments before you remember the gift you had gotten him.

”Oh! Before we start. I have a gift for you.” You say with a hint of teasing and Hyunjin looks at you with wide eyes before he grins excitedly and holds his hands out.

”Gift, please!” He calls out and you laugh softly at him before shaking your head. He gasps and then dramatically throws himself on top of you groaning loudly. “I need whatever thoughtful gift you’ve gotten or I’ll perish Seoltang.” He cries out as he throws a hand up into the air and squints his eyes. “Darkness is already closing in! I Can feel death’s cold grip on me tightening.” He dramatically cries out and you laugh loudly as you shove him playfully off you before you reach for your tote bag and pull out the wrapped gift.

Hyunjin quickly sits up from his sprawled out position as he eyes the prettily wrapped gift with eager eyes. You look down at the gift in your lap and then look up at him with a teasing grin on your face. Hyunjin leans forward with wide pleading eyes and a pout on his lips trying to get you to give him his gift. You smile softly at him and lean over to press a sweet kiss to his forehead without even thinking about it, it just naturally came to you to do that.

”What’s the magic word?” You ask him softly and Hyunjin grins widely at you as his eyelids flutter with delight at your kiss.

”I love you.” He answers immediately before cupping your face and pulling you into a deep loving kiss that makes you squeak with surprise as Hyunjin smiles through the kiss. He pulls away softly and grins widely when your mouth moves to chase his making the love he holds in his body for you swell to consume him. He then pulls you back in for another kiss and whispers the confession between each kiss he gives you.

You’re giggling happily and adoringly as you try to pull away from him so that you can give him his gift before you give up and press the present into his chest before kissing him once again.

”I love you too.” You whisper against his mouth and Hyunjin practically beams at you before he pulls away and looks down at the gift in his hands. Quickly opening it his eyes widen as surprise and adoration fills him. He looks up at you with wide love filled eyes before he grabs onto your face and pulls you in for another deep loving kiss that he doesn’t let you up from for a few breathless moments.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

#my writing #stray kids #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz x reader #skz

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haveihitanerve · 13 hours

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Steph and Bruce things-

Bruce once said- “when I die I want you to be the one who lowers me into the grave so you can let me down one last time” and dick gaped at him in horror, jason exploded into laughter, and steph glared at him before giving him a high five

Steph ends every argument with him with “i won this argument” even if she- especially if she very clearly did not

When she gets injured Bruce forces her to stay at the manor. Its the only time he is permitted to actually parent her because she is injured and needs to recover, but thats not to say she doesn't break into the cave and annoy him during work and force him to take her with him everywhere

Steph has all the codes and keys for everything in Wayne Manor/Batcave, but still breaks in everytime she comes over. It drives Bruce insane

When bruce gets injured shes one of the kids who sits at his side the whole time, especially if its because of her or its a big injury(dick is usually the other one)

When he gets sick she forces him to sit on the couch with her all day and folds him into a burrito blanket and eat junk food and slightly burnt soup with bread and watch trashy tv

When she gets sick bruce wraps her in a blanket burrito that she actually cannot escape from and takes her everywhere with him, just carting around his technically not daughter who is forced to be there and take the medicine he gives her and food and everything because shes wrapped in a straight jacket blanket

He picks her up from school and will have the most embarrassing songs ever playing, or will call out something awful like “is that the boy you have a shrine of in your room?”

Will lecture her in front of her friends

Steph changes all his contacts frequently so he always has to spend some time deciphering who it is based on what she called them, or he just starts every conversation with “who is this?”

She once forced him to come to a concert with her and buy matching t-shirts and merch and whenever shes feeling down he wears the shirt as like.. Solidarity and it makes her feel better

Every year for her birthday or christmas or something he sends her a bat symbol, either in purple or black or some other color and every year on his birthday she actually wears it for one day and lets him “claim” her as a bat

She was the first one to visit the League and gave everyone whiplash and made Batman actually break composure

Bruce will actively go on the patrol route she goes on and throw water or like snacks at her while screaming “Hydrate or diedrate!!!” and it is common to see a screaming Spoiler sprint away from Batman across rooftops

They have a snowball fight every year and she recruits every batkid to help

When shes on her period bruce “grounds her” from patrol and forces her to accept his mother henning just once a month. Steph doesn't actually mind.

Steph gives him actually useful dating advice

Since shes not actually his daughter she lacks the baggage of being his child and tells him when hes messed up and he and Babs have like meetings with him to explain what hes done wrong with his kids and how to fix it/be better. Dick is also sometimes involved in these meetings when he is not the offended party

thats all i could think of rn but please feel free to add more 💗

#steph and bruce #can you tell i love them #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #bruce and steph #batfam #batman #spoiler #batman and robin #besties #hes her technical dad #and shes his technical mom #its complicated and yet so simple #it works for them #they have such a messy complicated sweet relationship i love them so much

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jo-harrington · 2 days

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Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 days

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You’re A Cowboy Like Me

A/N: Imma be real honest, I just wanted an excuse to write Cassian being hot in a cowboy hat, and I don't think anyone should fault me for that. Also, I really wanted to write a fic that uses the unofficial Cowboy Hat rules. Anywho! Enjoy! And happy Day 4 of @nessianweek :)

Read on AO3

It’s like driving into a Hallmark movie. Or a western. Various small shops and cafes line either side of Main Street, each with quaint looking window displays and what appear to be hand painted signs declaring their store names. The tall branches of pine trees can be seen stretching above the roofs, and mountains reaching up to the sky almost perfectly align with the road, as though you can reach the peak if you simply keep going.

“Oh, this is so cute.”

Nesta snorts softly at the comment, but when she tears her attention away from the window and toward where Gwyn sits in the driver seat, the redhead has a wide smile on her face as she leans forward over the steering wheel to peer at the town around them.

“Eyes on the road, Gwyneth.”

Gwyn shakes her head fondly, but she leans back in her seat, readjusting her hands on the wheel. They continue down the road until Gwyn’s phone directs them to turn right, taking them off Main Street and along a neighborhood road filled with row houses of pretty, painted brick. 828 is on the end, right on the corner, and Gwyn pulls the car into one of the spots right out front. They both slip out of the car, but when they knock on the front door, there’s no answer.

“She must already be at the shop,” Gwyn offers with an easy shrug of her shoulders before grabbing Nesta’s hand in hers. “Come on.”

She all but drags Nesta back toward Main Street, continuing to gush about the charm of the town. They pass chalkboard displays along the sidewalk, looping colorful letters declaring sales and specials alike. They even pass an open door and a series of small tables that Nesta fully intends to revisit at some point during this trip to find out the source of the sugary sweet and chocolate scent wafting on the breeze.

But soon they’re arriving at their intended destination: Windhaven Farmhouse Market.

A striped red awning stretches over the door, wooden flower boxes beneath the large, display windows on either side. And when they step inside the shop, rustic looking wooden shelves line almost every wall and weave through the center of the shop to create a series of aisles.

“Hey, Em!” Gwyn calls out, stepping deeper into the shop. “We’re here.”

Even as Gwyn disappears from view amongst the shelves, Nesta takes a chance to really take everything in, slowly spinning in place. There’s jars of honey and baskets of apples to her left and what appears to be gardening gloves and tools to her right. It’s certainly an odd assortment of items to be sold together, and that sentiment only seems to grow as Nesta starts to wander between the shelves, spotting hats and scarves along with a small assortment of books.

She turns around another corner, just barely stopping short before she walks straight into a man standing in the center of the aisle. She has to tilt her head up to really take him in, the man standing a whole head taller than her, but it’s not just the height he has on her. His shoulders and chest are wide, stretching the flannel fabric he’s currently wearing, and the denim of his jeans clings to the thick lines of his thighs. Even with just seeing his profile, even with the curly strands of hair that hang down to his shoulders, Nesta can see the hard cut of his jawline, the stubble along the skin there.

For a moment, her mouth goes dry watching the man reach forward for a bag of some sort of farm feed. The large span of his hands somehow make the bag look small, and with the sleeves of his flannel pushed up to his elbows, Nesta has the perfect view of the muscles in forearm flexing as he hefts the bag off the shelf and over his shoulder. She’s sure the farm feed must be heavy, but he makes it look as though it weighs nothing.

He turns at that exact moment, practically starting when he notices Nesta standing there. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t see you there.”

He has exactly the sort of drawling accent that Nesta would expect from a town like this, his voice warm and deep. It pours from his lips like a glass of whiskey, practically curling around her limbs. Those same lips curve up into an easy, cocksure smirk, bright hazel eyes drinking her in.

“You’re certainly not from around here, are you?”

Nesta scoffs, crossing her arms. “That’s a bit presumptuous.”

She settles him with her most unimpressed look, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a scowl. It’s a cool and cutting look that’s certainly sent plenty of men in the bars of Adriata turning and fleeing. But not this man. His smile only seems to grow, the greens and golds of his eyes sparking like sizzling embers.

“I think I know a city girl when I see one. What are you doing here in Windhaven?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“And what about your name? Can that be my business?”

“You wish.”

The man chuckles, the sound just as low and warm as his voice, and Nesta has to press her lips together tighter against the reaction that laugh threatens to draw out of her, straightening her spine against the shiver threatening to skitter up it. She won’t allow him to disarm her so easily, refuses to be affected by his drawl and his charm and those hazel eyes. Refuses to be affected by him.

“Nesta!” Nesta turns just in time to watch Emerie bound around the corner and into the aisle, Gwyn hot on her tail. “There you are.”

“Nesta,” the man repeats, as though he’s tasting her name, testing the weight of it on his tongue.

Nesta wants to hate how good it sounds, how his lips and his drawl curl around each syllable.

“Did you need something, Cassian?” Emerie asks, raising an eyebrow as her eyes flit back and forth between the two standing in front of her.

The man–Cassian–continues to wear that wide, teasing smile as he focuses his attention on Emerie, giving the bag of farm feed on his shoulder an almost loving tap. “Just this.” He dares to glance back toward Nesta. “For now.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the blatant flirting, the clear implication, and pointedly ignores the way Gwyn stifles a laugh behind her hand. For some reason, the reaction has Cassian looking like he’s won, like getting Nesta to roll her eyes was exactly what he intended. What he wanted. She’s not sure what to make of that.

He follows Emerie toward the shop counter, chatting easily, and when the transaction is finished, he readjusts the bag of farm feed on his shoulder. He dips his head forward in the mock salute of a hat tip, those hazel eyes never leaving Nesta’s for a moment. “Ladies. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

Nesta snorts softly. Only if he’s lucky.

~ * * * ~

Emerie slams the glass down against the wood, letting out a soft sigh as she pushes her hair away from her face. “What if I sold the place?”

“Would anyone buy it?” Nesta asks, swirling her own glass and the deep red liquid within.

Emerie shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe?”

“But will you regret it?” Gwyn points out, reaching forward and squeezing Emerie’s hand. “This is your father’s shop after all. And you already put so much work into it.”

“Exactly. This place was his dream. Maybe I should burn it to the ground. That will definitely have him rolling in his grave.”

Nesta grabs the wine bottle, emptying what remains into Emerie’s glass. “You know if you ever need accomplices for arson, we’re down. You can claim the insurance money.”

“And if the police question us?” Gwyn adds, her teal eyes alight with mischief as she presses a solemn hand to her chest and puts on a faux innocent voice. “We don’t know anything, officer.”

Emerie laughs, the sound bright even with the still lingering sadness tinging it, and she throws an arm around each of her friends. “I don’t know what I’d do without you bitches.”

“Probably have more wine,” Nesta answers dryly, shaking the now empty wine bottle in emphasis.

“We definitely need more wine.”

“There’s a tavern down the road!” Emerie exclaims, already stumbling up to her feet. “They’ll have wine. And shots.”

Nesta and Gwyn push to their feet as well, and all three of them go stumbling out of Windhaven Farmhouse Market and into the crisp night air. The sky above is a blanket of inky blue, and with how far the town is from the city, more stars than Nesta thinks she’s ever seen twinkle amongst it. A cool breeze seems to float down from the mountains, kissing her cheeks and tickling across her skin, and Nesta crosses her arms to help fight off the chill.

It doesn’t last long, though, Gwyn pulling one of Nesta’s arms free so she can link their elbows, doing the same to Emerie with her other arm. “Lead the way, Em.”

By the time they’re pushing through the doors of the tavern on Main Street, all three of them are breathless from laughing. They’re hit with music as soon as they step inside, some sort of country song heavy on guitar and twang and lyrics of heartbreak. Fairy lights hang in lines against the wooden slats of the ceiling, various neon beer signs covering three of the walls while a row of televisions line the fourth wall behind the bar.

It’s exactly what Nesta expects from a bar in a town like this, complete even with a large mechanical bull.

And currently atop the mechanical bull is none other than the man from the shop, Cassian.

His hair hangs in soft curls beneath his cowboy hat, the strands swaying and tickling that sharp jawline of his with his movements. He has one hand raised up by his head, but the other is curled around the leather of reins, fingers and forearms flexing almost rhythmically. His hips rock in time with the bull, thighs working and tightening beneath the fabric of his jeans to help keep his balance. And with the buttons of his flannel undone, fabric left to flutter at his sides, Nesta has the perfect view of the black lines and swirls of ink that curl across his pectorals, of the lines of his abs tensing and rolling to match the bull.

The sight is unholy.

“Nesta!”

Nesta clears her throat awkwardly, blinking rapidly and clearing her mind of the dangerous places her thoughts had begun to stray. She turns toward her friends, Gwyn’s eyebrow raised in exasperation making clear she had been saying Nesta’s name a few times. But it’s Emerie’s face twisted with that knowing smirk of hers that has Nesta rolling her eyes with a huff.

“Are we doing shots or not?”

She drags her friends toward the bartop, Emerie raising her arm in hopes of flagging down the bartender. Shouts echo up from the crowd, and Nesta turns around just in time to watch Cassian go sailing off the mechanical bull, landing against the inflatable cushions positioned in a ring around the space. He jumps back to his feet, the warm boom of his laughter reaching Nesta’s ears even over the music and distance. He flips off the operator of the mechanical bull, another dark haired man who looks more than pleased with himself based on the smirk, but that doesn’t seem to deter Cassian’s grin.

He tugs his hat from his head, dragging his fingers through his hair and pushing the curly strands off his face. The movement has his stomach stretching, drawing further emphasis to the cutting v-lines that disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans. As though he can feel Nesta’s attention on him, his gaze dances over to her, but Nesta is quick to snap her head back around, focusing on the shot glass now being placed in front of her.

She doesn’t even wait for Emerie and Gwyn, quickly knocking back the clear liquid. She’s quite confident that she’s going to need it tonight.

She keeps her focus resolutely on her friends as they claim one of the high-top tables, but she can still feel Cassian’s attention on her. It scrapes across her shoulder blades, prickling the back of her neck. It’s like a caress, warm fingertips skating up her spine. And with each passing moment, it gets harder to ignore. So when it’s time, Nesta offers to get the next round of drinks, peeling away from her friends and stepping back up to the bartop.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Nesta takes a moment, allowing that slow, warm drawl to wash over her before she finally turns. Cassian has re-buttoned his flannel, but the sleeves are still rolled up to his elbows, his forearm resting casually against the bartop as he leans against it. As soon as Nesta’s gaze meets his, golden sparks flare through his hazel eyes, his lips twisting into a wide, cocksure grin. She refuses to acknowledge the answering flames simmering low in her gut.

“I enjoyed watching you fall on your face,” Nesta tells him cooly, making a big show of tilting her head and pursing her lips. “Wasn’t much of a show otherwise.”

Cassian laughs easily, not even being subtle about his attention dropping to her lips. “I’d be more than happy to give you a repeat show, then. Maybe a private show?”

“In your dreams, cowboy.”

“Is that a promise?”

Nesta rolls her eyes. This man is clearly too confident and cocky for his own good. Just because she can, she reaches forward, plucking the cowboy hat right off of his head and placing it on her own. Cassian’s expression slackens, and pride swells between Nesta’s ribs at drawing out such a reaction, at finally knocking him off his axis. She doesn’t bother biting back her own smirk as she turns back to the bar, gathering up the drinks there and sauntering back toward her friends, leaving him to watch her walk away.

“Where’d you get the hat?” Emerie asks when Nesta returns to their table.

“I stole it from Cassian,” Nesta explains, setting down their drinks and sliding back into her seat. When she looks back up again, Emerie’s brown eyes are wide, and Nesta blinks a few times in confusion. “What?”

“You took Cassian’s cowboy hat? To wear yourself?”

“He could do with being knocked down a peg or two, don’t you think?”

Emerie presses her lips together, clearly trying to hold back laughter, but not in the way Nesta is expecting. She’s all too familiar with the amusement dancing in her friend’s brown eyes, knows exactly what it means. And it’s never good for her. It has Nesta shifting in her seat, has her hackles raising as she settles Emerie with an unimpressed look of her own.

“What.”

“You can’t just go around taking cowboy hats off men like that,” Emerie offers with a laugh, leaning across the table and giving a pointed look. “Don’t you know what that means?”

Nesta huffs, crossing her arms. “Well, excuse me for not knowing Windhaven has some weird rule, apparently.”

“It’s not a Windhaven rule.”

“It’s a cowboy rule,” Gwyn jumps in to add, nodding solemnly around the straw of her drink. “Wearing his hat means you're his.”

“And taking it off him means you want to take some other attire off him,” Emerie adds with a shit eating smirk.

There’s no stopping Nesta’s incredulous laugh. “That is not a real thing.”

“Sure it is!” Gwyn continues. “Wrangled My Heart, that cowboy romance I was telling you about? It was a whole plot point.”

“That is not helping your case that this is an actual rule.”

“Trust me, Nesta. The ranch hands of Windhaven take the etiquette and rules of cowboy hats very seriously.”

Nesta scoffs at Emerie’s words, but the sound is half hearted at best. She dares to look around the tavern, too easy to spot Cassian where he’s leaning against the wall. His eyes are pinned fully on her, and even with the space between them, there’s no denying the heat in them. She quickly turns away again, but she can already feel heat creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks.

No point putting it off.

Nesta quickly downs the rest of her drink, pushing out of her seat and away from the table. She strides over to Cassian, already removing his hat from her head as she gets closer.

“I didn’t know the rule,” Nesta explains, holding Cassian’s hat out to him.

Cassian looks down toward his hat, but he makes no move to take it. “It looked better on you anyway.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”

“Trust me, Nes. There’s no one as beautiful as you.”

“Don’t call me that.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say with the way Cassian’s grin only seems to grow. He finally takes the hat from Nesta’s hands, the tips of his fingers brushing across her skin as he does so. He steps closer to her, close enough that she can feel the heat that seems to radiate off his person, that every breath in has her chest pressing against his own. Close enough that Nesta has to tilt her chin up to hold his gaze. That she can count every green vine and golden fleck of his hazel eyes.

Her breath catches in her throat as Cassian raises his hand up above them, slow and purposeful. He settles his hat back on Nesta’s head, adjusting it until it sits how he likes.

“Much better, Nes,” Cassian tells her, tracing the backs of his fingers down her temple, her cheek, the side of her throat. “It’s important to always wear your hat straight. That’s another of the rules.”

Nesta swallows hard, trying to focus around her heart skipping in her chest. “How many rules are there?”

“More than you think.”

Cassian turns his hand, his palm pressing against her skin. The large span of it is enough to cradle her jaw and throat, and Nesta is sure that he must be able to feel the way her pulse flutters beneath his touch. His thumb drags across her bottom lip, Nesta’s lips parting with the movement. She lets her eyes fall closed, already leaning forward in anticipation, but nothing ever comes. When she snaps her eyes back open, Cassian is smirking again, and she rolls her eyes with a scowl.

“Don’t give me that look,” Cassian teases, even as he leans down enough for his nose to nearly bump against her. “You were the one who tried to give me my hat back, remember?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Nesta buries a hand in Cassian’s hair, tugging him down and finally closing that distance between them until his mouth crashes over hers. He kisses with the same sort of slow sensuality of that drawling accent of his, lips sliding against her own. He spins them around with ease, pressing Nesta back against the tavern wall. When he steps fully into her space, their bodies flush together, there’s no stifling the way Nesta moans into his mouth. She can feel every hard line of his body slotted perfectly against her own.

He uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, curling and flicking at her own. When he finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far, dragging his lips across her jaw and throat. He finds that spot just behind her ear, and Nesta is puddy in his arms. His teeth scrape against the skin there, and she tosses her head back with a whine.

“If you keep making sounds like that,” Cassian breathes against her ear. “I’m going to have to take you right here in front of everyone.”

“On the mechanical bull?”

Cassian chuckles, pulling back fully, his eyes heavy lidded and pupils blown wide. “Another time.”

He kisses her again, holding her jaw just the way he wants her. Nesta feels dazed in the best way, only half registering the way he grabs her hand, leading her out of the tavern and back into the night. His truck is exactly what Nesta expects, beat up and red beneath the lights pouring out from the tavern.

It’s a short drive to Cassian’s farm, and despite the way she squints out the passenger window, Nesta can’t make out much in the darkness beyond a fence line and a looming building that she’s quite confident is a barn. The truck pulls to a stop in front of a gorgeous ranch style house with a wrap around porch. She’s so busy gaping at the house, that she doesn’t even register the passenger door being pulled open, not until Cassian’s arms wrap around her body, tugging her out of his truck and over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” Nesta exclaims, banging her fist against his shoulder blades. “Put me down. What are you doing?”

Cassian doesn’t say anything, instead continuing up the front steps and inside the house. When Nesta starts to squirm too much, Cassian’s hand comes down against her ass in reprimand, Nesta letting out a quiet yelp in surprise.

“Are you kidding me? I said put me–”

Nesta doesn’t even get a chance to finish her demand before her back is hitting a soft mattress and blankets. She sits up enough to take in the room around her, clearly the master bedroom. The furnishings are simple and rustic, all dark wood and a deep red bedspread.

“Beautiful.”

Nesta snaps her attention back toward Cassian, where he stands at the bottom of the bed, kicking his boots to the side. She can feel everywhere his eyes travel over her frame, goosebumps cascading across her skin at that caress. A shiver skates up her spine in response to the flames flickering amongst the hazel, and she stretches out more comfortably against the bed, really putting on a display. Cassian groans softly.

“You haven’t even gotten me out of my clothes yet,” Nesta comments, kicking off her shoes.

“I meant the sight of you in my bed,” Cassian explains, kneeling up onto the bed. “I might keep it.”

He settles between her spread thighs, leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss. Nesta moans into his mouth as his body presses against her, his hips rocking down against her own. She cards her fingers through the dark, curly strands of his hair, using her grip to tug him closer still and deepen the kiss. Cassian’s own hands slide up beneath the hem of her dress, along her thighs, the warmth of his grip seeping into her skin.

It’s a bit awkward with the hat still poised on Nesta’s head, so she shifts enough that she can pull it free and set it aside. Cassian merely uses the opportunity to latch his lips back to her neck, each hot press of his mouth leaving an echoing heat simmering through Nesta’s veins. His teeth sink into the skin over her pulse point, and Nesta gasps, the sound quickly morphing into a moan when his tongue laves over the hurt.

She reaches for the buttons of Cassian’s flannel, but she only succeeds in undoing the first few before his fingers curl around her wrists, tugging her hands away and pinning them against the mattress by her head.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines, bucking her hips against him desperately.

“Patience is a virtue, Nes.”

He switches his grip to just one hand, using the free one to tuck his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face back toward him and kissing her again, slow and deep. Nesta melts back against the bed as his tongue slides against her own, moaning softly when his teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging it as he pulls back. He sits back on his haunches, gaze trailing over her again.

“Flushed so pretty.” Cassian’s hands push the hem of her dress up higher until it’s bunched around her waist. “But let’s see where else I can make that pretty pink spread.”

He continues to push her dress up and up, and Nesta sits up enough that he can tug it fully off, tossing it aside. He drags two fingers over her still clothed center and Nesta whimpers at the pressure, her hips jumping in response.

“And already so wet for me? Sweetheart, we’ve barely started.”

He traces a teasing circle across her clit, leaning down and swallowing Nesta’s moan with another searing kiss. He doesn’t break the contact as his hands slip behind her back, her bra quickly joining her dress on his bedroom floor. His hands slide to her breasts, fingers kneading the flesh and thumbs toying with her nipples.

He breaks the kiss, lips tracing a path down her throat, her collarbones. Nesta tosses her head back when his mouth’s attention turns to her breast. Her skin is already so sensitive there, and the drag of the stubble along Cassian’s jawline only adds to the sensation, sends electricity ricocheting down her spine.

“Cassian,” Nesta moans when his tongue swirls around her nipple, gripping his hair and holding him there.

“Keep moaning my name like that,” Cassian murmurs softly, switching to her other breast.

Nesta is a panting, squirming mess by the time Cassian finally pulls back again, by the time he’s pressing kisses down her sternum, down her stomach. He slides further down the bed until his shoulders are cradled between her thighs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of her panties.

“You know, it’s a bit unfair that you’re still fully dressed.”

Cassian chuckles, but he still pushes back up to his knees, fisting the back of his shirt and tugging it off. Nesta licks her lips at all that golden brown skin being on display again. The dim lighting of the bedroom cuts shadows across the lines of muscles, only seeming to add emphasis to the dark swirls of tattoos that Nesta now realizes curl all the way down to his elbows.

“Better?”

“Closer,” Nesta concedes, sitting up and reaching for the buckle of Cassian’s jeans.

But Cassian grips Nesta’s hips, tugging forward until she falls back again, splayed across the blankets. “Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He shifts his grip to the waistband of her panties again, pulling them down her legs and off. His fingers dig into her thighs, spreading them wide and exposing her cunt to him. The appreciative groan that tumbles past his lips goes right to Nesta’s head, and she revels in drawing out such a reaction.

“Look at this pretty cunt,” Cassian tells her, fingers flexing. “And it’s all for me.”

Cassian settles back on his stomach, Nesta’s toes curling in anticipation, at the warm breath fanning across her cunt, but then nothing ever comes. An unfortunate tendency with this man. She whines, squirming against Cassian’s hold, desperate for that pressure, for that delicious friction.

“Please… Cassian, please.”

“What a good girl, begging for it.”

Nesta keens at the praise, and then Cassian really rewards her. He presses the flat of his tongue against her, licking a long, thick stripe all the way up to her clit. He repeats the same motion, and Nesta can feel the vibrations of his answering groan, only adding to the pleasure building inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Nesta gasps when Cassian’s tongue finds her clit and traces tantalizing circles there.

She buries a hand in his hair, nails dragging against his scalp as she holds him there, holds him right where she needs him. It draws another groan from the man between her thighs, his grip on them holding them open tight enough to bruise. Nesta tries to buck against it, tries to rock against his face, but he truly seems intent on taking his time.

Truly seems intent on undoing her and turning her into a whimpering, moaning mess.

It’s almost unfair the way he works his mouth over her and eats her out. The way he presses his tongue into her cunt and curls it. The way he sucks her clit between his lips. It’s almost unfair how attractive he looks doing it, dark curls tangled and unruly from Nesta’s fingers, hazel eyes swallowed whole by his blown pupils and pinned right on her face.

He releases his hold on one of her thighs, his hand sliding up to join his mouth. He sinks two fingers into her cunt, and Nesta arches up off the bed at the stretch. He quickly builds up a steady rhythm, pumping and curling his fingers, and Nesta’s cunt clenches and flutters around them, drawing them deeper still.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Cassian praises, pulling another long moan from Nesta’s throat. “Are you going to squeeze my cock the way you’re squeezing my fingers?”

Nesta is barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone speak one. All she can do is moan again in response. All she can do is give herself over to the familiar heat coiling tighter and tighter in her gut, the pleasure singing in her veins.

“How about you be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

Cassian leans back down, his mouth working over her clit in time with his fingers, and Nesta can do nothing but obey. She moans Cassian’s name as her release tears through her, thighs shaking around his ears and cunt clenching down hard around his fingers. He works her through it, continues to rock his fingers and elongate her orgasm until the pleasure starts to melt into pain, and Nesta reaches her hand down, squeezing at Cassian’s wrist.

“Fuck, that was beautiful,” Cassian breathes, carefully pulling his fingers free and pressing soothing kisses to the inside of her thigh. “You’re beautiful.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere, cowboy.”

Cassian’s smirk is wide and cocksure as he slides back up Nesta’s body. He wastes no time sealing their lips together again, Nesta able to taste herself on his tongue when he presses it into her mouth. She slides her hands down Cassian’s chest, over the hard muscles, through the downy hair leading her to exactly what she wants.

He doesn’t stop her this time when she reaches for the buckle of his pants, shoving the waistband down his hips. He pushes up off the bed and to his feet, pulling his jeans and his boxers the rest of the way down and stepping out of them, and Nesta’s mouth practically goes dry.

She’d known from the stretch of his jeans that his thighs were thick, but seeing them like this is another thing all together. And then there’s his cock, hanging hard between them. He’s certainly larger than any of the men Nesta has been with back in Adriata, the girth of him wide. She can already imagine how the thick head will feel sinking into her, how the veins running along the side will feel dragging against the walls of her cunt.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, fisting his cock and stroking lazily.

“And what if I am?”

“You should see my view.”

Nesta smirks at his words, preening at the implication of them. She makes a big show of spreading her legs wider, tilting her hips up, to really give Cassian a view. She can hear the way his breath hitches, see the way his grip on his cock tightens, but she doesn’t stop there. She slides her fingers slowly down her chest, down her stomach, to the mess they’ve already made.

Cassian’s answering groan goes right to her head. Right to her cunt, already fluttering and desperate to be filled.

“Look at my good girl,” Cassian breathes, kneeling back up onto the bed. “Legs spread wide and ready for me.”

He reaches past her toward the bedside table, rooting around in the drawer until he pulls back with a condom between his fingers. Nesta watches through lidded eyes as he tears the wrapper open, sliding the condom on and down his cock. When he’s finished, he drags the head of his cock along her cunt, all the way to her clit, and Nesta whimpers, hips bucking up against him.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, repeating the motion again. “Want to be full and stretched on my cock?”

“You have no idea,” Nesta tells him, shoving at his shoulders until he falls flat on his back on the bed. She throws one leg over his hips and settles astride him, gripping his jaw and forcing his head back enough that she can lean down and whisper in his ear, “but maybe I want to hear you beg for it.”

Cassian groans, his hands finding her hips and squeezing. “Trust me. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Nesta hums, satisfied with the answer, and sits back up. She spies where she discarded Cassian’s cowboy hat earlier, grabbing it and settling it back on her head before she starts to rock her hips, reveling in the slide of Cassian’s cock against her, the way it twitches and jumps in response to her movements.

“Mother save me, you’re a dream,” Cassian sighs, his hands sliding down her thighs and back up to her hips again.

“Didn’t I tell you compliments would get you everywhere?”

She reaches a hand down between them, gripping Cassian’s cock, reveling in the warm weight of it against her palm. She raises up onto her knees, lining his cock up and sinking down inch by slow inch. She was right about how amazing the wide girth of him would feel, already feeling keyed-up by the time she bottoms out, her cunt already clenching hard around him.

“Oh fuck,” Cassian gasps, throwing his head back. “That’s it, Nes.”

Nesta tries to respond, but all that tumbles past her lips is a low moan, especially when she dares to rock her hips, Cassian’s cock sliding against the walls of her cunt, her clit dragging across his pelvis. She settles her hands on Cassian’s chest, using it for balance as she presses up onto her knees and sinks back down again, building up a steady rhythm that has her nerve endings sparking, her blood simmering with delicious pleasure.

“Gods, look at how you take me, how your sweet cunt squeezes me.”

Nesta whimpers, picking up the pace of her movements, circling her hips every time she sinks down and trying to get Cassian’s cock to press deeper still. She feels so full of him, but the need for more still claws up her throat. Still has her chasing that high, that precipice.

“Such a good girl, riding my cock so perfect.”

“Please,” Nesta whispers, reaching one of her hands to her own chest, squeezing her breast in hopes of finding that edge she needs. “Please.”

She doesn’t know how Cassian somehow knows what she’s asking, how he knows exactly what she needs, but with a growl, he grips her hips, flipping them over again, his hat tumbling somewhere off her head and the bed. He hikes her leg up high, spreading her open completely for him as he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again. Nesta cries out as he sets a brutal pace, driving into her hard and just how she likes it.

“This is what you need, isn’t it?” Cassian breathes right against Nesta’s ear. “Need my cock right where it belongs, fucking you deep and hard?”

“Yes! Don’t stop. Gods, don’t stop.”

Nesta grapples for purchase in Cassian’s hair, on his shoulders, unable to do anything but hold on. It’s almost unfair, the way he plays her body so well, the way every drag of his cock, every slam of his hips, has her melting into little more than a puddle of moans and whimpers of his name.

But she can’t find it within herself to care.

Not when her entire body feels ablaze. Not when Cassian continues to snap his hips, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with her breathy pleas and his answering groans. Not when his hand slips between their bodies, fingers finding her swollen clit.

“We’re gentlemen here in Windhaven, you know. That means ladies first.”

Cassian continues to trace tight circles across her clit in time with his thrusts, and Nesta’s unable to deny his request even if she wanted to. She arches up off the bed, clenching hard and shouting Cassian’s name as she barrels through her second orgasm of the night. She’s half aware of Cassian groaning in her ear, of the way he continues to snap his hips a few more times before he shudders above her.

He pulls out and settles beside her with a soft sigh, Nesta taking a moment to catch her breath before she rolls over onto her side to face him. She finds herself tracing his dark lashes and the way they flutter, the pink that clings beneath the golden brown of his cheeks. Finds herself stuck on the pink of his lips, the way they tug up into a smile as though he can feel her attention on him.

He turns his head toward her, Nesta getting an up close look at the bright colds and twisting greens of his hazel eyes, the way they flare and simmer as his gaze dances over her face.

“Have I told you you’re beautiful?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she pushes herself up enough that she can lean over him, Cassian’s eyes tracking her the whole way. She dips her head, pressing her mouth against Cassian’s in the barest brush of a kiss, reveling in the way Cassian tries to chase her lips when she pulls away again.

“Careful, cowboy. If you keep up all these compliments, you’ll end up stuck with me.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#nessianweek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #pro nessian #nesta x cassian #my fic

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missisjoker · 3 days

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A prompt?

A prompt.

Jacaereys travels to Kinglands to celebrate his grandsire's name day with a royal hunt. It's a dreadfully boring affair until Jace hears rumors that there's a direwolf roaming in the forests and goes to investigate.

He ends up face-to-face with the dire wolf because, apparently, the humongous mountain of a wolf can sneak up on people like a cat. The wolf doesn't hurt him; just looks at him with eyes color of molten valyrian steel, huffs, and tracks back into the forest.

A few moments later Jace hears a trap shut and wolf howling in pain; and runs toward him. Keeps saying I'm trying to help, please don't eat me. The wolf growls- a deep, rumbling sound that Jace feels in his bones, but doesn't snap at Jace. The trap breaks the same moment someone calls out for Jace- and the wolf is gone in an instant.

The next day, Jacaerys trails off from the hunting party, lost in thought, perhaps hoping to glimpse the wolf again - when he is attacked by 3 cutthroats. He manages to bring down one of them, but the other two push him to the ground and slash his arm from palm to elbow. He feels the cold blade tickle his throat when men's laughter turns into screams and then gargles. The direwolf nudges him to sit down and licks his bleeding arm, stopping the blood flow. Jace tries to find his way back, but his horse bolts, and the sky is dark with a gathering storm. He shakily tracks to a hunter's cabin nearby, the wolf tailing him. The cabin is just big enough for them two, and eventually, Jace stretches on the floor and falls into a restless sleep, with the wolf curling next to him.

When Jace wakes up, he is warm and cozy, but there's a human form next to him- a big, naked man nuzzling into the back of his neck.

He jerks awake and so does the man. Jace tries to hit him with something - anything- and get away- but the man is too fast and too strong, and pins Jace down. Jace tries to bite him, but the man kisses him. Which startles both Jace and the offender- and the man starts apologizing.

Jace gives him an opportunity to explain while pointing at him with a sword (he’s sure sword won’t do him any good, but at least it distracts him from ogling the man’s beautiful and very naked body).

The man - Cregan Stark - says he is a skin changer, something that runs in his family. Was betrayed and usurped by his uncle who somehow locked him in the wolf form. He’s been desperately trying to return for months, but couldn’t - until Jaces blood broke the curse.

Jace refuses to believe him until Cregan’s eyes flash the same molten Valyrian steel color.

Once Cregan puts on some clothes, Jace asks him of his plans. Offers to go with him on a dragon to remove his uncle from the seat in Winterfell- but Cregan refuses. Says, if he is to control the north, he will have to do it himself.

Jace asks if Cregan is sure he won’t get locked into a dire wolf form again- and Cregan says no, he only got blindsided because he trusted his family, but he will not make the same mistake again.

They part ways with Jace’s wish of good luck and a promise to visit Cregan once he retakes Winterfell.

Jace is sure he will see him again- after all, Cregan owes him a debt; he stole a kiss from him, and Jace will be sure to collect.

#cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon #jacegan #brokeback winterfell

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madhatterbri · 3 days

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Objection | M.J.

Summary: Reader is about to marry another guy, but Matt objects and expresses why the reader shouldn’t marry the guy. I was thinking something sweet with a little spice? ☺️

Author's Note: Happy Dynamite Wednesday, babes. <3 A Nick Jackson one should be up next week. ❤️

Requested by anonymous

Matt Jackson Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @theworldofotps @bullet-clubs-bitch @magicalbuttertarts

"Here she is," the bride's mother sung happily. The proud mother was filled with so much emotion. There was so much cause for celebration. Her only child was getting married to a stable man. One that would come home to her daughter every day. Not some wrestler that would cheat and do Lord knows what on the road.

Y/N walked into the room. She held the bottom of her dress so the dress wouldn't slide against the floor. Her mom, maid of honor, and bridesmaids gasped at her appearance. She made her way through the group. They told her how pretty she was.

The bride stared at herself in three full body-length mirrors. A small, fake smile was plastered on her face. Her hair was tied in a bun. Makeup caked her face. Her wedding dress was a beautiful pearl colored.

"Everything is absolutely perfect," her mother gushed and clapped her hands together. "My baby is so happy she can't even speak,"

Y/N smiled weakly in response. She wasn't a happy bride, but a miserable one. The wedding was everything she wanted, but the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle was not. Her heart weighed heavy at the fact that the man down the aisle wasn't Matt Jackson.

One of her cousins looked at their watch. She announced to the group that the wedding was in five minutes and they needed to get to their places. Everyone filed out of the room except her maid of honor. She assured the wedding party she'll be right out. The door closed behind party.

The maid of honor crossed her arms over her chest. She stood by the bride.

"You aren't happy," she spoke bluntly.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavier. Y/N had trouble breathing, and she wasn't sure if it was the tension in the room or the corset.

"My own mother can't even tell my misery," Y/N spoke with a soft chuckle. "Is it that obvious?"

"We have been friends since we were children. I can tell when you are lying. What's wrong?"

"I shouldn't tell you. It's my wedding. I'm happy,"

"Just tell me,"

"What good would it do me? I messaged Matt last night. I told him if I shouldn't get married today to speak now. He ignored it. Happy?" Y/N spoke angrily. Tears started to form in her eyes. A weak sob slipped past her lips.

"Y/N, I-"

"There is nothing we can do. This isn't some wrestling botch that we can fix the next time. This is it. I am going to marry someone that isn't Matt," she swallowed down another sob. "He didn't want me,"

"There has to be something we could do," her maid of honor interjected. "Maybe he was busy and didn't see the message."

"There is nothing we need to do. I just have to smile, walk down the aisle, and say I do,"

A knock on the door ceased all the conversation between the two women. Y/N called for the visitor to come in. One of the bridesmaids opened the door and poked her head in.

"The wedding is starting,"

"Great, thank you," Y/N spoke.

Y/N walked towards the door. Her maid of honor sighed loudly in annoyance, yet followed her. One by one, the bridal party left to take their appropriate places down the aisle. The bride waited impatiently for her turn. She stared at the bouquet of flowers. A mixture of different colors stared back at her.

The traditional wedding song started to play. The pianist worked his magic on the keys. Y/N took the cue and walked down to the double doors of the church. The doors opened before her. The guests stood and watched her.

While walking down the aisle, her soon to be husband came into view. He wore a simple tuxedo. His mother removed her glasses and wiped away the tears from streaming down her face. A pang of guilt washed through her. Y/N stood across from her fiance.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to...," The pastor started the wedding. Y/N's mind started to drift. Her thoughts swirled around Matt. The brunette wrestler that stole her heart the first night they met. She remembered all the hot summer nights in Maui.

"Y/N," her fiance whispered between them. He was now facing the priest. The now embarrassed bride muttered an apology and faced the pastor. He seemed annoyed at the lack of her paying attention yet kept it to himself.

"And do you, Y/N, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband until death do you part?" The minister asked.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her hope was fading that she would ever be with Matt again. All the moments they had together would be a distant memory. She looked over her shoulder at the double doors. They were still closed. She turned to the minister sadly.

"He isn't coming. This is what he wanted," her mind repeated.

"I-I,"

The double doors of the church suddenly burst open. Some of the guests jumped in surprise while others yelled from the sudden noise. Y/N and her fiance turned to see the disruptor of their wedding.

A man with his hair in a ponytail walked in. He wore a white suit and walked with confidence.

"Matt, what are you doing at my daughter's wedding?" Her mother asked. Her voice was practically screeching.

"I object,"

The audience gasped and turned to the other. Harsh whispers filled the pews. Her mother's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Y/N walked away from her betrothed.

"You can't be serious! He's a wrestler. Who will take care of you when he finds another in some other city?" Her mother asked. Y/N ignored her. She dropped the flowers on the floor. Her heart pounded as she rushed to him. Matt opened his arms and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His scent danced with her nose.

"You didn't message me back. I didn't think you'd come," she commented still in disbelief. His hands rubbed her cheeks softly. Her eyes closed as she prayed this wasn't a dream. When her eyes opened once more he was still in front of her.

"I still love you, Y/N. We may not be perfect, but I would do anything for you. I won't be home all the time, but I'll never stop loving you," he confessed. Tears sprung to her eyes. Y/N leaned in and kissed him. Her fingers ran down his cheeks to his neck. The audience gasped. They pulled apart upon remembering they weren't alone. "We should go,"

"Yeah," Y/N agreed. He grabbed her hand and rushed her out of the church. Nick was waiting in a car for them. He drove since Matt was such a nervous wreck. The runaway bride sat in the backseat with Matt. Their lips locked together as they made up for lost time.

Nick looked in the rear view mirror and groaned. "Not this again,"

#fanfiction #aew #all elite wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #matt jackson fanfiction #matt jackson fanfic #matt jackson #matthew jackson x reader #matt jackson x y/n #matt jackson x reader #matthew jackson x y/n

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romaevelizz · 3 days

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Hair

Severus Snape x Blk!Wifereader.

sum: just some dad snape fluff!

warnings: none! Reader is mentioned to be A hufflepuff, and is Earthology teacher(it’s my own little thing), and reader is pregnant! not proofread!

It was almost 10 after 9, second periods were just about to get to an end as Severus was walking around the halls with his four year old daughter. Severus was set with the task of getting his youngest ready for the day for her mama had and early class with the 4th years. Sa’diyas hand in her fathers as she wore a happy grin and skiped next to her gloomy father, “How come I have to go to Mommy now?” she asked.

“Because i have a Class of my own with first years i’m sure your mother will enjoy your company..” he spoke.

Her dark eyes looked up to him, “Do you think she’ll like my hair?”

Severus looks down at his daughters hair that felt like took ages. To be honest he was just starting to get confident doing his girls hair, but for the first time he smiles a little looking at the two parted braids going down the back of her head into two small puffs, two green bows decorating them. “perhaps.. I think she will.” he said picking her up quickly.

The pair soon entered her class room, the sunlight peeking thought the green house like top, His eyes found his wife her long braids curly strands decorating them, her hair was put back out of her face a few hanging infringe of her shoulders. Her yellow satin robes enbroided with vine and flower like designs glistening in the early morning sun. Soon her attention made its way twords the door where her students gazes fell, The earthology teacher turning on her heels her hands places under her swollen belly.

“Ah professor Snape! Seems you’ve brought me a visitor.” she Smiled up at her husband.

“Well Mrs. Maverick, I have a class of first years next period and i can’t have your daughter running wild.” he spoke putting Sa’diya down. The little girl grinning wide, she watched as her mothers eyes shifted to hers.

“You can tell daddy got your ready today hm..” she giggled holding out her arms the toddler leaving her father side going to her mother.

Severus raised a brow at the statement, to be fair he did but it was obvious when his daughter was head to toe in his house colors. The little girl wearing a white blouse with a Green sweater over it, a gray skirt black tights underneath, cute white socks and black mary jane’s with bows on the clips. Not to mention the two dark green bows that were placed on top of her pigtails.

“He did and he did my hair!” ‘Diya said her small voice excited as she was held by her mother, her little hands gently touching her head.

Snape watched his wife grin widely “He did, did he. And he did such a good job.” She spoke kissing her daughter’s face.

The professors had basically forgotten about the class of 4th years around them. Everyone knew they were married well especially after she had a small difficulty with her pregnancy during class and she asked for him, to be honest the two were never secret with it but that one little moment where ache called for him as she held her stomach just proved a point.

“You did great Sev..” she hummed.

“there’s no need for you to hold her she can stand.” Severus spoke urging his pregnant wife to put down their 4 year old.

“She is just fine I’ll hold my baby if i feel like it!” she huffed popping her hip out sifting the toddler away from her father.

Severus only gave her a look, “Don’t over do it.”

“Don’t worry Dad she’ll be fine.” the voice of his oldest shifted his gaze.

Zhuri her normally serious face giving him a reassuring smile. If there was one thing Severus was always grateful for with his girls if that they got their beauty and reassurance from their mother. “How come you never did my hair that well when i was a babe?” she spoke making a snarky comment at her dad.

“I didn’t have the skill at the time..” he muttered towards the Slytherin. She only hummed, her words mouthing to her younger sister ‘I’m still the Favorite’

Only for Sa’diya to stick her tongue out at her older sister. “Enough,”

Snape soon realized the classes attention was on them “Back to it!” he spoke quickly the students all shifting in their seats.

Professor Maverick only shook her head as she put her daughter down. The younge girl putting her hands on her hips sassily “Hey! you be nice to them! we’re causing a ruckus not them.” She said.

Severus raised a brow at his daughters attitude his gaze meeting his wife’s who let out a small giggle. “You Need to apologize.” Diya huffed crossing her arms her lips pouted.

“You heard her.” Zhuri said a small grin on her face knowing he was getting bosses around by a toddler.

“She is your daughter.” Snape said glaring at his wife who had her arms crossed aswell.

“you only say that when she has an attitude as if you don’t either.” she scoffed with a laugh.

Severus rolled his eyes looking down at his daughter “I won’t do such a thing the need to mind their own.”

With a poor attempt to roll her eyes Sa’diya damanded her father apologize for yelling at the class. Soon enough to save himself from the embarrassment of his sassy child he did. Earning a nod from her of approval.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be soon professor?” Y/n asked walking up to him tucking a piece of hair behind his ear her hand holding his face for a moment.

“As a matter of a fact I do, Unfortunatly.” he hummed.

she smiled at him holding the little girl close to him, he held her face giving her a kiss on the forehead “Bye bye Daddy see you at dinner!” she waved.

The students never saw this side of him but to be honest it was wierd. Snape never seemed like the family type but to know He’s a father of Two girls soon to be Three it suited him. A household of bossy women. He couldn’t ever ask for anything more, those were his girls.

#harry potter #severus snape x black reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape #pro severus #severus x oc #snape community #snape fandom #snape love #professor snape #pro snape #snape #snape x reader #dad!Severus snape #dad!snape #hp #hp fandom #harry potter fandom

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kizzer55555 · 4 months

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Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

#Dpxdc #dcxdp #kizzer55555 ideas #Bruce thinks the necklace is magical. He’s technically not wrong.#When he gets home he immediately puts each gem in a glass container to examine them. For the longest time though nothing happens.#They all look like normal gems except for the main three of the piece. He can’t identify what kind of gem they are.#The gems are perfect spheres with various shades of blue (with hints of green and white) swirling around.#The colors almost look like they are moving in slow motion. Still. Nothing happens as he examines them and no strange events happen.#That is until one day he decided to take the gems to be examined by a professional and a villain attacked.#A piece of building was about to crush him when a wall of ice appeared as a shield over him. After that he took them back to the cave.#Bruce looks up thousands of documents about enchanted necklaces and artifacts but finds nothing. He even calls in favors from JLD.#Zatanna doesn’t recognize them but feels some kind of power coming off the gems however it doesn’t feel malevolent (at least for 2 of them)#(The last gem is neutral.) Also Constantine was unavailable (*cough* hiding from responsibilities *cough*)#The other bats get interested in the gems. Tim has a theory that they are some kind of protective charms. Damian agrees.#(Everyone is shocked Tim and Damian agree on something). So while Bruce is continuing his investigation the other bats decide to do some #‘Field testing’ and take the gems out. Consequently the gems end up saving their lives and they discover a few things they can do like make #The wearer invisible. Intangible. Create green barriers/constructs. Create ice. Vibrate when an enemy is coming. And much more.#The bats fashion them into new individual bracelets/necklaces and think they are the coolest thing. They have powered up protective charms!#The halfas just wish these kids would STOP PUTTING THEIR LIVES IN DANGER! What are they MORONS?!#Most of the ectoplasms they recover is used to protect the bats and nearby civilians.#(Dan also trolls people and is mostly protective his siblings though)#People notice the new power ups. A rougue gets his hands on a gem and tries to use it ONCE to attack something but the gems didn’t respond.#Then it froze the rough’s legs to the ground.#Much time later the gems are swapped between the bats and alternated and have just become a new item in their belt #(batman was not pleased but eventually got used to it and begrudgingly accepted that they were useful. Especially when they save his kids)#They come to a Justice league meeting and Constantine finally sees them.#His mouth drops in shock and he frantically asks where they got GHOST CORES?! And this is when the bats finally realise what they have.#And are horrified to realize EXACTLY what they are holding and that these ‘gems’ were technically ALIVE.#Meanwhile the three Halfas have been kinda chilling but also working their butts off to keep this family alive. It was a fulltime job.

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prairiemule · 1 year

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Yeehawgust 2023, Day 6 - Wide Open Spaces

#yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2023 #rdr #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #my art #my uploads #yes that is supposed to be arthur and john #on their way to steal some sheep lol #originally the color scheme was gonna be a much warmer green #but that ended up looking strange #so here we are with a cooler green #also sometimes i feel like making actual detailed leafy plants #but most times i just wanna make these bumpy lumpy things and call it a day #here's to another late at night posting 😌

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tblsomedoodles · 1 year

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Donnie's Visions (apocalypse Seer Twins comic) Part 5 (complete!)

Start - Previous

I should wait until tomorrow to post this so i can make sure i didn't miss anything. But i don't particularly want to wait. It's the last part and i just really want this to be fully complete (post and all.)

anyways, i hope you enjoyed this comic! I am very glad to get to check one thing off my to-do list.

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metrixnos · 2 years

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Doodle dump but its almost all techno (shocker)

#dsmp #technoblade #tommyinnit #doin tarot card designs in one of my classes #i got the fool #so drawin the child #technoblade fanart #drew that bored lookin’ techno when i probably shouldve been paying attention to Shakespeare #do i know what happened in that part of the play?#no #no not rlly #(dont mind the pony sona techno btw)#(i was trying to draw horses from memory #(and just ended up coloring some and called it a day)

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mementoasts · 1 month

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nii-san style...

#I GAVE UPPPP I GAVE UP I HATE DRAWING TALES FANART IT HAS TO BE *PERFECT* AND I CANT DO ITTTT 😭😭😭#SORRY LUDGER 😭😔😭 this was gonna be a page of ~3 separate lil drawings (like i did w gaius) but after uhh 40 hours nd mostly just this --#-- i decided yeah. no. i think. i think it's fine to finish this 1 and call it a day.......#i think i just need to go back and do some black/white stuff auauagouuhohgjh #i sat here for the past 2 hours rotating the damn thing and trying to come up with a Not Just One Solid Color bg 😭😭#idk why it ended up so pink but. i think i salvaged it. i actually thought i was gonna cry at some point LMAO #at this point i can't tell if this sucks or if i tried to step out of my comfort zone too much or. bleh #but it's still a cute idea idc..... i just wanted to draw an outfit swap ok. i love outfit swaps....#tales of xillia 2 #tales #ludger will kresnik #the void given form #shoutouts to like the 1/3 of this total image that i had to crop out lmaooo #yknow funny thing. idk if it's the hair or what but after i finished the lineart i was like hm. maybe there is some kind of resemblance

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supreme-leader-stoat · 1 year

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You're fresh out of college and looking for a job. Everyone is hiring. Nobody who's "hiring" is actually hiring. You finally get a call back from somewhere you barely remember applying to (though the voice on the other end sounds synthesized). You pull up the job listing again real quick. The company name and the fact that the listing is for "Minion" are kind of concerning, but you know what, you've interviewed with enough evil corporations by now, you can handle one wearing its true colors on its sleeve. At this point it's a matter of making rent or moving back in with your parents, and as much as you love your family, you can't imagine spending another summer dealing with your brothers' antics. You agree to the interview.

The man who greets you is an enthusiastic older German(?) man who's either way too into cosplay or just that committed to the bit, judging by the lab coat. He made cookies. The tray of cookies is proffered to you by a ten-foot-tall robotic caricature of a 50s businessman. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. You bite into one of the cookies. It's delicious.

You ask the boss about his business model. "Oh you know, a little of this, a little of that, I bounce from project to project a lot." He mentions that his end goal is becoming the undisputed ruler of the surrounding counties. "Really? Not the whole world?" you ask. "I like to set realistic goals," he replies.

As he gives you the tour of his "evil lair," ingrained instincts are screaming at you to report this guy to some kind of authority figure. You remember the salary. You decide that you can always bust him after getting your first paycheck.

The boss asks when you can start. Caught off guard, you say "tomorrow?". Your boss(?) says he'll see you then.

On the way out, you bump into your stepbrother's girlfriend. Your boss introduces her as his daughter. You both silently agree to sidestep the subject for now and act like this is your first time meeting.

You show up to your first day of work. Your boss is putting the finishing touches on a giant machine that was definitely not there yesterday. You are nonplussed. You ask him what it's for and he launches into a convoluted explanation involving his parents always forcing him to put his shirts on backwards so the tag was in front. You think he should probably talk to a therapist.

Your brothers' exotic pet breaks down the wall. You stare at him. He stares at you. Incredulously, you say his name. "Oh, good, you two already know each other!" your boss says. You mention that you used to live with him. "What? Perry the Platypus, you never mentioned having a roommate."

This is what I like to imagine Candace Flynn's life is like, post P&F.

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oreo-creampie · 10 months

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𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: true form!sukuna, monster fucking with alpha!sukuna, A/B/O (meaning alpha, mega, and beta) no alpha and mega title used, daddy/mama, praise/teasing/mocking/praising degradation, biting, knotting, werewolf venom makes their mate go into heat to keep up like in the fic mine with werewolf toji, fucking on fur bedding, you said clan and for some reason my brain went wood bedframes and fur blankets no technology, we get candles for light, they have fangs venom and claws with sukuna have his true form extraness, double pentration, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, blood, pain kink, light size kink, toji is praising you while fucking you like he hates you, choking, full nelson, sukuna calls you pet twice, mind break, cream pie, fucking their cum into you. belly bulge from the amount of cum, forced orgasm, squirting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Requesting for clan leader! Gojo 😔🙏 gotta have that breeding kink in their somewhere!! Mans whole clan is asking for an heir right after you get married. In my mind Geto is still alive and kicking and has his own family. Gojo gets a terrible case of FOMO and ends up wanting a whole litter of kids for himself. goin at it like rabbits for DAYS.

Oreo: not this being in the drafts since September! im sorry anon! This was also giving me werewolf vibes with the word clan so one think lead to another. it gave me the chance to write the reader belly bulging with sukuna's cum so im excited about that

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Slapping your sloppy cunt, stuffing his thick warm cum in with two fingers he bit the claws off on. Whining, twisting your hips away. Smirking down at you, crooning “Where ya going mama thought you wanted to make me a daddy?” Pulling you into place by your hips.

You want Satoru’s fingers, cock, tongue, and cum filling you up. “I do wanna make you a daddy but you're too much. Can't keep cumming, but I wanna at the same time." Hooking your leg around his waist pulling him in.

His eyes momentarily widen. Ordering in a needy plead, “Call me daddy again mama.” Sliding your hand over his broad shoulders, down his thick pecs and abs. Over countless thin and thick scars ranging from pink to white in color.

“Daddy please lemme feel you!” Sliding your hand down his hard abs, biting you lip when he purposefully flexes. Grabbing your thighs pinning you in a firm mating press. Following the short wispy whine happy trail down to his beautiful long cock.

Lining his pale cock head up with your soft lip. Stroking yourself with his cock, circling your soft clit. He's so warm, soft yet hard. His breathy moan gets you off. “But you are feeling me, what more can my mama need?” Dipping his head, sinking his sharp fangs into your tit.

Moaning, he's intoxicating, sweet, warm, and pleasurable like having him massaging your sweet spot with his fingers. Your body is getting hotter. Thick slick drips down, your cunt aching with an insatiable need for Satoru.

Flicking your soft nipple with his warm tongue. Sucking, sinking his fangs in deeper when you cry. Shifting your hips trying to slip him in, whining when Satoru pulls back. Whipping the blood from his lips with his thumb.

"What does my mama need?" Nudging your sensitive cunt with his cock, spreading his hand on your stomach pinning you still. Gliding his cock up your clit refusing to touch your clit.

Admiring how your cunt split to take his pale pink cock head. Pleading with him, "Please give me more than the tip! I need you to knot me, keep your cum deep inside my sensitive cunt, please!" Slowly giving you his head head, letting the soft ridge vanish before gliding out. Lightly tugging on your cunt.

"You sure you need more than just the tip?" Nudging in his head, leaving it there, pressing down harder when you squirm. "You said I'm too much mama, you sure ya need me to knot n’ cum in ya?"

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

"Fuckin finally I can stuff ya full of cum again." Bending you over on the soft pile of blankets. Pulling your ass in the air, squeezing when you wiggle, piercing your skin with his sharp claws. Blood trickles down trickles down your hip. Thick cum drips down your thighs.

The pain is sweet mixing with mind-numbing pleasure. It's impossible to think, you can barely process Toji grunting, “I've been wanting to breed your sweet tight cunt for months. Ya gonna be so beautiful with your tits and belly swelling mama." Gliding his softening knot out tugging on your tight cunt, his cock is harder than before.

Despite stuffing your cunt full of cum three times. Toji is getting hornier, fucking your limp body harder. Testing your limits seeing how much you can take before you break.

Stepping on your head, roughly fucking his thick cock into you. Trembling, your sensitive cunt is gushing on his cock. How can still cum after the fifth you couldn't think to count.

The thick blankets muffle your moans, “Such a messy lil cunt she’s a beautiful lil super soaker. Gonna make you cream on my cock till my knot won’t swell up anymore.” You would be convinced he hates you with the merciless way he's fucking his fat veiny cock into you. If not for Toji's words and the fresh bite on your neck.

Bent over, back arched, legs spread with your cunt stuff his heavy balls slap your clit. His swelling knot catching on your tight sensitive cunt. "Fuck mama squeeze my fat cock with your tight sloppy wet cunt. Nnn I've always thought about how hot of a milf you'd make."

Slapping your ass, squeezing your cheek. Fucking you harder, the fur blanket muffling your cries. "Your beautiful little cunt is always so tight when you're in heat." Moving his foot, your body lurches forward from the strength of thrusts. "Fuck you're so damn perfect mama takin' my cock like a slut." Grabbing your hair, yanking your back.

Your back hits his hard chest. Wrapping his hand around your neck, standing up, your legs dangle, held by your hair, neck, and his thick cock balls deep in you. "Please Daddy please daddy please!" Squeezing his thick veiny cock, he's filling you up perfectly, stroking your sweet spot.

"Since that's all my stupid little whore can moan, you don't need to breathe right? I can fuck your cunt into a gapping broken cum stuffed mess with my hands crushing your neck, right?" Grabbing your thighs, propping your calf over his thick forearm. Pinning you to his chest in a full nelson.

Squeezing your throat, groaning, "Ya gonna be a beautiful mama, gonna suck on your tits when they drip milk. Make sure they don't get too full like your pussy is 'bout to be." His swelling knot tugs on your soaking wet cunt.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Gliding his thick, veiny tattooed cocks out. "It's starting to trickle out the sides." Pushing on your bulging stomach, thick cum gushing from your sore, gaping cunt. Sukuna croons, "Don't pass out on me yet pet I'm having fun playing with you." His stomach's tongue relentlessly stroking your sensitive clit. Keeping you in an intoxicating mind numb pleasurable high, boarding on almost painful.

Lining his cock up, rolling his hips, arching your back, twisting your hips away from his slow deep thrusts. "Please don't stop!" Tears roll down your cheek when he pulls your hips back into place. Lifting you off the bed, slamming you down on his thick cocks.

The tip of his sharp claws digging into your skin shouldn't feel so good.

Taunting you, "Poor little pet can't even handle me n' you're cryin' for more! Keep fighting to stay awake mama. I need ya to keep taking my cocks till they get soft." Using your hips to guide your hot tight, squelching cunt on his thick cocks. Your cunt clenches, it feels too good to be senselessly fucked into a mindless mess by Sukuna.

Biting your side and breast, your body jolts, and your cunt clenches. It's too much venom at once, forcing your sensitive cunt to squirt on his cocks. "Fuckin' messy slut soaking the whole damn bed." Gliding his hand up your side, cupping your breast biting down.

Giving that intense high of squirting, yet your cunt can only spasm, getting tighter. Your body shaking, toes curling eyes rolling back. "If you do pass out mama, I could fuck my cum into your soft beautiful cunt when you're sleeping." Smirking grabbing your neck lifting you up right.

Looking up from Sukuna's thick pecs into his beautiful face. Dark crimson eyes glowing from his rut. "It would be a pity if I couldn't see you I love seeing you cryin'. But I wonder if your sweet little cunt will grip my cocks the same." Grabbing his arm and digging your short sharp claws in.

Sukuna leans his head back groaning. "Ya feel so fuckin' good mama, seein’ ya fighting to keep going this long is makin' is exciting. I might not be able to stop until your body gives out." His massive body trembles, your soft, soakign wet tight hot cunt squeezing and squelching on his fat cocks getting him off.

Fucking you faster on his cock. Flexing his arms when you pierce his skin. Thin rivulets of blood tricking down his biceps. Sukuna hunches over to roughly kiss you slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You're utterly helpless to do anything but happily take Sukuna's thick cocks. It's perfect you don't need to think or move. Only get fucked till you can't handle anymore.

oreo creampie m.list

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reidrum · 3 months

Text

close to home | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares

wc: 2.4k

summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar

_______________________________________________

whenever the bau has a case based in the dc area, it’s always a little easier on the team. familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. the hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.

spencer and callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. the unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. he felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by hotch and garcia entering the bullpen.

“police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. she was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. i think it sounds like our unsub. morgan and reid i need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” hotch explained.

morgan and reid nodded as garcia spoke up, “i just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”

spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say hillcrest, “did you say hillcrest?”

“yeah hillcrest drive. it’s like, a 15 minute drive it’s not that bad.”

he felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. that was the street you lived on. he tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.

“garcia, what’s the house number?”

“reid, i already sent it to your pho-“

“garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again.

please don’t say 1159 please don’t say 1159 please don’t say-

“1159.”

fuck. the color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you, last night? this morning? he doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.

“reid,” hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “what is it? what do you know?”

he shook his head, “nothing. morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.

morgan, garcia, and hotch all looked at each other in concern, before morgan spoke up, “i’ll see what’s up.” the latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.

morgan walked up to the car to find spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.

spencer was alerted by morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.

“okay reid, spill it. it’s obvious you know who lives here.” morgan speaks up.

“just drive, please.”

“because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”

“morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.

he raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. i can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”

spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. he’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. after what happened with maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.

some job he did of that.

the one thing he regrets about how he handled the maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. for not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. he’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.

he loved you so much. you were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. a breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. you were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. he still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.

“any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”

tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. if you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.

he cleared his throat, and morgan’s ears perked up, “my uh, my girlfriend lives there. where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.

morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, spencer missing the way his face dropped. he tightened his hands on the wheels, and didn’t hesitate to turn the lights and siren on and shift gears to speed up.

the car pulled onto your street and the first thing spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.

he’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know, the tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.

he whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. you watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. he’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. he’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.

“hi,” you choke out muffled, “funny seeing you here.”

he pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. his heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.

“hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “are you okay? i mean, of course you’re not. but what did the paramedics say? did they give you anything? are you sure they checked all your injuries? you know what, let me go call the guy over. i’ll be literally two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.

upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.

you were okay, but at what cost.

the emt leaves you two and spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. it’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.

spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. the slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.

“it’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. i promise.”

you sniffle, “i know, i just can’t believe this happened. to me, to us. it’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.

“to me? wh- what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath, “i don’t mean to bring it up again, i just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and i hoped that i wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. i don’t know why this happened, i'm sorry.”

he looked down at you incredulously. genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. it was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.

“oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “what happened is not your fault, do you understand me? my job is to always worry about you and your safety. when garcia said the address i…i couldn’t even process it, i don’t even know how i got to the car,” he shook his head, “but i am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. i will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”

“okay,” you take a shaky breath, “i love you.”

“i love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be ssa derek morgan. you knew spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.

spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “it’s okay, he knows.” you look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.

“reid, i already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “hi sweetheart, i’m derek morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”

spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “hi derek, i’ve heard so much about you. it's nice to finally meet you too.”

“i wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “listen, i know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”

spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “absolutely not. we can do it later, it’s fine.”

“reid-“

you look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “spence, it’s okay. i want to help, please.”

he rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”

“i didn’t think you would.” you smile.

“alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” derek teases.

spencer groans, “see this is why i didn’t say anything.”

“you think i’m bad? wait till penelope meets her.”

the three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. you end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.

“she’s cute,” derek starts, “can i ask how long?”

“nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.

“pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”

“imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “look.”

spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. you’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. the first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. the second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. the last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.

the edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. it was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.

“you look really happy, kid.” derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. his heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.

“i am.”

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