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#guys is there a name for the four of them.?
gutsby · 2 days
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Cowboy Killers
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Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader
Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.
Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.
Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.
Word count: 4.1k
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Forgive and forget.
Forgive and forget.
Forgive and—
“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.
Across the line, your friend laughed.
“Yeah? You see him?”
Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.
The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.
She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.
Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.
And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.
Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.
“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.
Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:
“Where ya headed, hon?”
You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’
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The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.
A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.
Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.
“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.
She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.
“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.
“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.
“Well, duh.”
“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”
“I love you, psycho.”
“Love you more.”
You ended the call.
And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.
You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight
You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.
The couple turned.
As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.
“You cheatin’ FUCK!”
He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.
The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.
“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.
You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:
“Working late, are we?!”
And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.
“Got a little caught up on the way home?”
Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.
“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.
Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand
Shaking his head.
“Hell no, I ain’t never—”
“LIAR!”
Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.
You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.
“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.
You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.
They thought wrong.
“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.
You almost expected the man to turn and leave.
You thought wrong.
“You’re a cunt.”
And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.
The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.
He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.
“How’s it feel?” he sneered.
You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.
On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?
You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.
“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”
“Wh—”
“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”
“What—”
“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”
“What did you just call me?!”
“A BITCH!”
“No, the NAME!”
“TOMMY MILLER!”
“I’M JOEL!”
Oh.
Oh.
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You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.
Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.
“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.
Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.
“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”
Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.
Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.
Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.
“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”
He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:
‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’
He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.
When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.
“HEY!”
Oh, no. No. Not tonight.
You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.
“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.
It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.
Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:
“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”
You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.
“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”
Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.
“Oh yeah?”
Joel flipped you around to face him.
“Yeah,” he snapped.
Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.
What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.
Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.
“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”
“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.
You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.
“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”
“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.
You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.
And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.
“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”
Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.
He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.
“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”
Joel couldn’t say that he had.
Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.
This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.
“Alright, princess. Up.”
You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.
You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.
“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.
Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:
“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”
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Joel wished he’d said no.
Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.
“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.
“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.
And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.
“Gross,” you muttered.
“What?”
“Got a light?”
“Blow me.”
Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.
“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.
“Now keep your—HEY!”
Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.
He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:
“What the fuck was that?!”
“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”
Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.
“I’m aware.”
“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”
You told him.
Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.
And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.
Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.
He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.
He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:
‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’
He saw you cringe.
“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”
The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.
Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.
“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”
“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”
You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.
“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.
He couldn’t help it.
Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.
Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.
“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.
Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.
“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:
“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”
Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.
“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”
Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.
The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.
You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.
Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.
On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:
“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”
Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.
“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”
At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.
“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”
You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.
Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.
Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.
Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.
“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.
Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.
You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.
Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.
As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.
Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.
He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.
He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.
He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.
No fucking way.
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You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.
Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.
“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.
“The one and only.”
Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.
It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.
He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.
His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.
“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.
Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.
Now you were waving to him from your front door.
Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.
And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.
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2:21 AM
You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.
Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:
1:09 AM – Maria
DUDE
1:09 AM
TOMMY JUST CAME HOME
1:09 AM
THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR
1:13 AM
IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!
1:13 AM
ABORT ABORT ABORT
1:42 AM
DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME
1:54 AM – Dave York
Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u
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A night you won't forget
You arrived at the parking lot exactly on time, but Zach was already waiting for you in front of the building, regardless. Similar to yourself, he was wearing a suit and had his dark hair styled for the occasion.
'The occasion' was actually not that special. A new casino, the 'Shifting Sands', had opened in town, and a couple of friends invited the two of you to a poker night in one of the private rooms they rented. You knew one of them, Daniel, for a long time, and when he got together with his now long-time partner, Ryan, you were introduced to one of his friends, Zach. The two of you got along okay. You were both straight, and occasionally, you hang out together to watch a game, but Zach wasn't necessarily your *best* friend. Still, he was a decent dude, and you greeted him with a fist.
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"Hey, Zach. What's with the fancy get-up? Didn't they tell you it's just gonna be the four of us? No girls to get all pretty for."
Zach grinned and returned the greeting.
"Who knows what the evening will bring? Perhaps we will get out of our room later, and for that, I'd like to be *prepared*. Besides, you're suited up as well."
"Guilty as charged. I've had the same thought, and I've come *prepared* as well."
You flashed him a condom wrapper that you carried inside your chest pocket and the both of you laughed heartily.
The 'shifting sands' was a modern and glittering casino in the theme of Arabian nights. The staff was dressed accordingly and was pretty attractive, a fact that neither you nor Zach missed as you looked around.
"This place is amazing, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I wouldn't have minded if we just stayed and played here instead."
The two of you followed a hostess into a separate room behind a curtain and were greeted by the two other players. The gay couple had dressed up as well, and wore matching suits, which produced a playful roll of the eye from Zach's side.
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Besides the two of them, there was one other person in the room, a rather good-looking and muscular fellow wearing a sleeveless shirt in the house's style - without doubt an employee of the casino. You waved a hello, and the employee smiled.
"I believe we're complete, then."
He got up and closed the door, drowning out the noise from the rest of the casino effectively.
"Greetings everyone. I'm your host, Gene - which is short for Eugene, if you are wondering - and I'm here to guide you through a night you won't forget."
The guy had a slight exotic accent, and the way he pronounced 'Gene' sounded somewhat like 'Genie' - which was, without doubt, what he was aiming at. While you could appreciate that the employee was certainly somewhat handsome, you guessed that Daniel and Ryan had to be practically drooling.
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After exchanging some pleasantries, the five of you sat down at the table to play. This was the moment you had been somewhat nervous about, and you were glad that only your friends were here.
"Uhm. Before we begin. I actually have never played poker before."
Zach looked at you like you had just announced you were a chicken in disguise, but the dealer just chuckled.
"No problem. What's your name?"
You told him your name, and he nodded. "Alright, let me just explain the rules."
He did, and you listened closely. It didn't appear to be all that difficult, but it was a lot to remember the different card and hand values. Finally, you nodded.
"Great. Now, before we begin, let's get to know each other a bit. The two of you are together?"
Ryan nodded.
"Yeah, we are. I'm Ryan, this is my boyfriend Daniel, and this is Zach, a friend."
The dealer smiled and his eyes sparkled. "Well, welcome to the 'Shifting Sands', once more. I guess you are the top?"
Daniel looked like Gene had just punched him and he flushed red immediately. Ryan, however, answered.
"Yeah, I am. Why?"
"Just genuine interest. And the two of you..."
Zach was half a second quicker to answer than you.
"We're not together. And not gay."
"Got it. Not gay." Gene chuckled for a moment before starting to deal the cards.
Besides his shameless questions at the beginning, Gene was a brilliant conversationalist, with a bit of a show master attitude and even though you lost most of the games, you had a great evening filled with laughter, light food and tasty drinks. Your only solace in losing was that Zach fared little better, although he supposedly knew the game better than you.
Later in the evening, the chips representing your money had melted away to a point where it was doubtful you could play another round, and Zach's looked quite similar. You excused yourself to the toilet before that last round. Even the men's room was tastefully designed in the casino's theme, and you understood why this place had such high rankings on the internet.
When you returned to the table, you noticed that the tiny stack of chips in front of Zach had grown a bit: one more chip, in a glittering, shining color, had been added to it.
"Hey, where did that come from? You were as broke as I," you protested, but Gene just flashed a smile.
"Relax. Zach just brought one more thing to the table. Remember, you can bet everything you brought here."
"So, what did you bet?" you asked, curiously. Zach looked like he was trying hard to stay serious, and finally, Ryan burst out laughing.
"He bet *you*."
"He... what?" you asked, confused.
"To be more exact, Zach bet your humanity." Gene explained with humorously sparkling eyes. "As I explained, everything you brought is fair game."
It was clear you were past the serious game part of the evening, and you laughed as well.
"Well, then I want to bet something, too. And that is... Zach's *decency*!"
Everyone on the table laughed, except for Gene, who just smiled and dealt you another sparkling chip.
"Very well. I guess this is the last round, then."
He dealt the cards and even though your hand wasn't too bad, Ryan won everything, including your new chips.
You didn't mind losing, and after the game was over, the four of you got up to leave, but Gene raised a hand.
"Gentlemen, you still have to pay up. As I said, it's going to be a night you won't forget."
Suddenly, you felt *strange*. It was hard to describe the feeling, but a sudden wave of weakness went over you. Before you could voice your discomfort, however, you heard Zach talking.
"Man, is it getting hot in here all of a sudden?"
Your friend had already disposed of his jacket and was just half unbuttoning and half ripping open his shirt, in front of the eyes of everyone.
Suddenly, Zach grinned as he wiped away the sweat from his brow.
"Na. It's not getting hot, *I* am hot. Hot as always."
He cupped his groin, which was developing an obvious tent, and winked at Daniel and Ryan.
"Come on, admit it. You wanted me here just so you could ogle me all evening. I don't blame you, I'm just a hot stud."
He ground his groin into the air, and you could see him *changing*. His muscles swelled and his pecs and abs popped, his shoulders grew broader, his arms thicker. His hair became darker and longer, until he resembled a greasy biker model, complete with tattoos on the thick arms.
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Zach's body wasn't the only thing growing. His cock, which was obviously hard all of a sudden, also grew in both length and girth, and it was spurting pre as he flaunted his new body shamelessly.
Both Ryan and Daniel were staring incredulously, and Daniel, who was the bottom of the two as you had learned today, even subconsciously licked his lips.
"You like what you see, huh?" Zach addressed Daniel now, who couldn't help but stare.
"Thought as much you needy boy. Hey, Ryan, how about we share your bitch tonight?"
"I, uh..." Ryan began, but Daniel looked indeed like he was about to drool.
"Ookay, I guess. But right here?"
"Yeah, fuck it." Zach answered. "I even brought protection."
With that, he grabbed you by the hair. You were so weak by now you had trouble standing and more or less collapsed in front of him.
Thinking he wanted to have the condom in your pocket, you fumbled with your own jacket, but Zach had other ideas, as he ripped down your pants.
"Come on, let's get nice and ready for that ass of yours," he addressed Daniel, while unceremoniously ramming his hard cock up your ass, which made you nearly cry out in surprise. However, it didn't feel as painful as you had expected, and to your confusion, the cock inside your ass seemed to grow even larger.
Only as your clothing slipped off from you piece by piece, you realized this wasn't what was happening. Instead of his cock growing larger, you were becoming smaller! The room around you grew, as more and more of your insides disappeared to make room for the gigantic cock, leaving yourself somehow... hollow.
At the same time, your skin changed texture. Within moments, what had once been normal skin, felt more and more artificial, even rubbery, no, more and more like *latex*. Only now did you realize with horror what you were becoming. Wrapped tightly around the cock of your previously straight friend, you were reduced to a condom!
With your last strength, you looked towards Gene, but the man was just leaning back in his chair, watching the events unfolding with an amused smile and a sparkle in his eyes.
Your legs and arms had disappeared, and so had your face, but you could see, smell and feel everything, including the musky cock filling you up to the brim. Now, however, Zach gave your elastic form another tug and Ryan a high five, before they both got to work on different sides of the amazed bottom. In mere moments, your world was eclipsed by the ass of your friend, as Zach and Ryan spit-roasted Daniel. You were pistoned in and out of his eager hole, and you couldn't help but share the excitement of all parties involved.
It didn't take too long with the movement of three sweaty male bodies until Zach's balls contracted and you felt his dick pulse inside of you. Then, with a powerful spurt, you were filled up with his cum from the inside, bulging out the section of your latex body that had once been your face. All your senses were fixated on the load, which you both felt and tasted at the same time. The moans from the other end told you that, simultaneously, the other men had reached their climax as well, and you felt like you had cummed yourself.
It took a few minutes for the afterglow to fade, but once Zach has caught his breath, he pulled you off of his dick and tied your back end into a knot before throwing you into the trash can without further consideration.
You faintly heard the three of them say their goodbyes to Gene and some plans to hit the clubs now, but after a few minutes, you were left alone, in the stinking dark, still filled with your friend's cum.
Later in the night, the trash bin was emptied into a big container, but that didn't change much. It seemed like you were left there for good, just an object to dispose of. Eventually, you drifted to a kind of sleep.
When you woke up, it was already morning. Thankfully, you were human again, although naked and in a trash container, and you could still taste Zach's cum. You held your head.
That was certainly a night you wouldn't forget.
And, against all rationality, you looked forward to doing that again. You did feel somewhat empty without a dick to fill you out...
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𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗲 ; 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ୨୧
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➪ summary: the boys are always going to be there for their little sister, whether that's after a game, when she has a nightmare, at the end of a bad day, or when she's going through a breakup
➪ warnings: reader has a bad day, breakup
➪ word count: 4.0k
➪ file type: new fic (hinted at being in the baby bear universe)
➪ sunny's notes: i have been slaving away so hard to get this fic down and i'm so happy it finally is! i hope you guys enjoy this and feel free to start sending in asks and things about the baby bear universe!
© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
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⟹ game day ; quinn - 13, reader - 7
Y/n had been bouncing off the walls since her parents told her that they were going to Quinn’s game. This happened every time she went to one of their games, it was her favorite thing to do. Not only did she get to watch her brother play, but she also got to watch her favorite sport, a win-win situation if you asked her. Ellen, however, was regretting her decision to tell her daughter. While she knew she would be hyper, she somehow continued to do it despite knowing it. 
Currently, Jim had taken Quinn to the rink while Ellen tried to rangle her daughter. Jack and Luke weren’t being the least bit helpful as they sat in the latter's room playing a random video game. Y/n was running down the hallway in one of Quinn’s other jerseys he had acquired through the year, not making it easy on her mother before they left themselves.
After 10 minutes, her mom was able to get her to calm down and sit at the kitchen table with a plate of apple slices. Y/n ate them quietly as thoughts raced through her head about the game. She was hoping Quinn’s team would win, she was hoping Quinn would score a goal. But no matter the outcome, she was hoping she’d gate postgame hugs from everyone on the team, it was one of her favorite perks of being a younger sister.
When the time game, she skipped happily out to the car, the rest of her family following behind her with less excited expressions on their faces. Jack sat on the other side of his sister as Luke sat in the back making comments about random things (mostly complaining about having to go to Quinn’s game). 
Y/n sang along to the music that the radio was playing, swinging her feet back and forth. And then she decided to annoy Jack and Luke, “Jack! Jack! Jack!”
“Yes, y/n?” Said boy turned towards her with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you excited for the game?”
“Sure.”
She frowned and thought to herself ‘how could he not be excited for the game?’. She quickly decided to end her pestering, knowing it would only end in her upset or Ellen angry at the three of them. She went back to looking out the window and quietly naming things she saw to pass the time in the car.
Once they got to the arena, she held Ellen’s hand as they walked in. They took their seats amongst the other families that were sitting there, most of the moms making conversation with Ellen. Not long after, Jim made his way up to them, sitting at the end next to Luke. 
Y/n thought that it would be a good time for a pregame nap, so she laid her head on Jack’s shoulder and slept until the horn sounded through the arena. She was briefly startled before she became aware of her surroundings and stood up and started cheering for everything and everyone. 
The other four Hughes’ quickly got used to her cheering and just smiled everytime they heard her voice at this point. The other families around them also adored her and her antics, thinking it was sweet that she always came to cheer on her brother and the rest of the team. 
Throughout the game, y/n screamed loudly when Quinn’s team got a goal or their goalie blocked a shot. She only got scolded twice for booing the opposing team, which was much improvement from the last game she was at. Whenever Quinn was on the ice, she would yell his name in hopes that he would hear her. Most of her efforts were in vain until the third period when she had either finally screamed loud enough that Quinn had been actively paying attention to the noise of the crowd. 
His head quickly snapped to where he thought the noise was coming from, scanning the crowd for his hyper little sister who he found jumping and waving her arms. He was able to wave his arms in her direction which unbeknownst to him caused her to smile and look at their mom excitedly, “Mommy! Mommy! Quinny waved at me!”
Ellen looked up from where she was sitting next to her and smiled, “Did he now? That’s amazing, sweetheart.”
She just nodded happily and sat back down, swinging her feet like earlier. The rest of the game went by quickly, y/n slowly growing tired from the amount of cheering and moving she had done. By the end of the game, she had practically fallen asleep against Jack’s shoulder once more. She walked through the crowd of people clinging on to her dad as they made their way to find Quinn.
They stood at the entrance to the tunnel, y/n watching as other players walked out to their families. Despite her shy nature around most people, she had no issues giving or accepting hugs from each player who walked by her. Most of them patted her head while some also thanked her for her cheering.
After what seemed like ages to the little girl, her eyes finally laid upon her older brother, and wasted no time walking over to him. She crashed into him harshly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Quinn wrapped his arms around her, dropping his stuff in order to, “Hey y/n/n.”
“Hi, Quinny.” She mumbled, keeping her head buried in the jacket he was wearing. 
Quinn gave a look to his parents before picking her up and following the rest of his family to their car. Y/n got herself situated immediately; laying her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck, curling into him, and cringing slightly at the way he smelled, “Quinny?”
“Yes, baby bear?”
“You smell.”
He let out a soft chuckle, “I can put you down if you want?”
“No no no, it’s okay.” 
And before Quinn knew it, he heard her soft snores. He placed her down in the car, making his way to the other side of the car to sit next to her. He made sure everyone kept quiet on the way back, not wanting him or his parents to deal with his cranky little sister at this time. 
Jim went to carry her inside when they got home but Quinn shook his head and carried her inside to her room, tucking her in and placing her stuffed animal bear in her arms. He kissed her head and mumbled a quick ‘Love you’ before walking to his room to change and shower. 
ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु
⟹ nightmare comfort ; jack - 10, reader - 6
It wasn’t often that she would have nightmares, but when they happened, they were awful. It was close to 3 in the morning when she woke up from one, her eyes snapping open in terror and a small whine escaping her. 
She was confused, she didn’t know what to do or what was happening, what was real and what wasn’t. The only thing she did know was that she wanted her older brother. So she climbed out of bed, dragging her teddy bear and small blanket with her as she made her way down the hallway to Jack’s room. 
She knocked hesitantly, knowing he wouldn’t be awake but still wanting to be nice. When she received no answer, she pushed the door open slightly and made her way into the room. She was careful to not get her blanket caught on anything Jack had laying on the ground, picking it up as she walked closer to the bed. 
She whispered his name a few times but she continued to get no response from the boy. She tried again and again but every try went unnoticed. She didn’t really want to disturb his sleep so she quietly went to the other side of his bed, placing both her bear and her blanket on the bed before climbing up and sitting next to him. 
It was only when she finally got comfy that Jack noticed her, turning around in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. He went to shift over but he hit something soft and unfamiliar which caused his eyes to open. His arm had hit her bear and he instantly knew what happened. He murmured her name to see if she was awake and watched as her eyes slowly opened, “Hi Jacky.”
“Hey baby bear, whatcha doin?” He wrapped his comforter around her, allowing her to scoot closer into his arms.
“Nightmare.”
He frowned and finished tucking her into his blanket, “I’m sorry, y/n/n. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Didn’t want to bother you.”
“You would never bother me with something like this, okay?”
She just nodded, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No thank you.”
“Alright, y/n/n.”
The two were silent and then y/n could feel her stomach grumbling, “Jacky?”
“Yes, baby bear?”
“Me Hungry.”
He chuckled softly before nodding, “I’ll go get some goldfish for you okay? You want some water too?”
“Yes please.”
“I’ll be back then.”
She watched him get up and walk out the door. She listened for his footsteps down the stairs and the slight movements from him downstairs. She looked around his room, eyeing all the posters of hockey players and all his medals and trophies. She smiled happily at them and curled further into the bed. 
Jack came back upstairs a few minutes later with two small bowls of goldfish, and two water bottles full of water. He handed one bowl to her and her favorite colored water bottle to her, helping her sit up on the bed. 
He sat down next to her and started eating his goldfish before she interrupted him, “Jacky?”
“Yes?”
“Can we watch Max and Ruby?”
“Sure, y/n/n.” He reached down and grabbed his iPad from under his bed and turned it on to navigate to Max and Ruby.
Y/n laid against her older brother and continued to eat her goldfish and drink her water as they watched one of her favorite shows. Halfway through the episode, she fell asleep leaving her goldfish finished and her water empty. Jack laughed and closed his iPad and got himself and her comfortable again before falling back asleep as well. 
ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु
⟹ bad day ; luke - 18, reader - 16
Luke had texted her and asked if she was riding home with him after school, but he never got an answer from her. He had texted her during both of their lunch periods, so he knew she was on her phone. It usually wasn’t this late in the day when he would just be finding out how his sister would get home. There were only three options, himself, their mom or dad, or one of her friends. 
By the end of the day, he still hadn’t received an answer from her, so he sat in his car for about 10 minutes after school and that’s when he saw her text that told him he could go. Initially, he hesitated, he knew there was something wrong with her, okay maybe he didn’t know but he could feel that something was wrong. But who was he to not follow what she said? 
An hour after he arrived home he could hear the front door open and a thud before it closed again. He made his way downstairs and saw y/n sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, looking down at her phone. Her head snapped up the footsteps and she placed her phone down on the counter, watching his movements.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, especially for the time of day it was. 
He furrowed his eyebrows and took a seat next to her, “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Her response was quick, practiced. 
Luke rolled his eyes, “Uh huh. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!”
“Bull shit.”
She hopped off her seat and went to grab the bag of goldfish from the pantry. She came back and stood against the island, continuing to watch as Luke came up with ideas for why she was acting the way she was.
In return, Luke stared at her and her actions, the quick and fake answers, her comfort food, all tell tale signs that was not okay. While his mind couldn’t come up with any good ideas on what might’ve happened to make her upset, he still wanted to make her happy. 
So doing what any of them would do, he dragged her over to the couch, handed her the remote and let her choose what she wanted to watch. At first, he thought she would’ve picked Tangled, one of her all time favorite movies, but was pleasantly surprised when she turned on Beauty and the Beast and settled into the couch.
He made his way back to the doorway, grabbing her backpack to bring it up to her room. When he came back down he threw her blanket at her before walking into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. He knew how to cheer her up, he had grown used to all of the things that made her happy. Hot chocolate, goldfish, her blanket, a Disney movie. It was unusual to see the bear out as she grew older, but it still sat in the middle of her bed. 
He came back with her favorite mug and handed it to her, acknowledging her soft ‘thank you’. He watched the movie with her, drinking his own hot chocolate and sometimes stealing some of her goldfish. That usually ended with a slap to the hand but also with a few crackers, he would always claim that it was worth it. 
When the movie ended, he saw y/n’s side eye in his direction. He raised his eyebrow and looked over at her, “What?”
“Are you going to make me talk about it?”
“No… but I am going to make you tell me if someone did something.”
She shook her head, “Just a crappy day.”
Luke could get on board with that, simply nudging her side and nodding his head in the direction of the remote, “Pick another.”
“You don’t have to stay here, I can just go watch movies in my room.”
“Nonsense, I would never leave you on a bad day to watch movies by yourself. I got all night. Go on.”
She smiled at him before scrolling to find another movie. She looked down at her mug once it started and frowned, “Lukey?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you make me more hot chocolate?”
He stared at her with a blank face before holding his hand out, “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Any time, baby bear.” He teased as he ruffled her hair.
“Dick.”
ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु
⟹ breakup ; quinn - 23, jack - 21, luke - 19, reader - 17
She hadn’t been expecting it, or maybe she had and just didn’t want to acknowledge reality. She had thought they had been okay, everything was going well and then just out of nowhere, he sent a text. A text that no girl ever wanted to receive, “I want to break up.”
She knew there wasn’t anything she had done to make him feel differently about her, at least that’s what the logical part of her brain said. Yet, she couldn’t help but think deep in her mind that she had done something to change his mind, to make him stop loving her. 
The text was sent at 8:23 p.m., the first thing she saw when she finished her homework. It happened quickly, probably, maybe, she didn’t know if she was totally honest. She remembered her phone dropping, the instant tears that came to her eyes, the whirlwind of emotions she felt. She didn’t remember curling up in her bed, holding her bear to her chest, head digging into the pillow. 
That was how Luke found her. At first he had thought she had watched a sad movie or a sad tiktok but then he saw the bear. The bear she only brought out when she was extremely upset or one of the boys placed it in her arms. He knew something had to be seriously wrong for it to make an appearance. 
He slowly padded over to the side of her bed, squatting down so his face was mostly level with her own, “Y/n/n?”
Her eyes fluttered open at Luke’s soft voice, tears immediately visible in them. Luke winced and frowned at the sight, cringing at the whimper she let out, “Luke.”
He wasted no time standing up and sitting next to her on the bed. At first she didn’t make any signs of moving closer to him, nervous that he would tease her for crying. But then he lifted his one arm and placed it amongst her pillows and she scooted towards him, crying into his sweatshirt. 
For a few moments, he didn’t do anything, just sat there silently as she cried. Then he moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled her closer into his side, kissing the top of her head. Y/n still kept her bear close to her chest even as she laid in her brother’s grip, not wanting to let go even for a minute. Luke thought about calling Jack and Quinn, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if she wanted them to see her like this. 
So, he waited a while, mostly until she calmed down. And that’s when he asked, “Do you want me to call Quinn and Jack?”
Confusion flashed across his face when she nodded her head, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He nodded with a murmur, “I’ll be right back okay?”
He gave her another kiss on her head before untangling himself and walking out of the room. Y/n could only hear his muffled voice from where she laid, millions of thoughts running through her head. Most of them were about Daniel and why he broke up with her, but some about the conversation that was happening outside her door creeped in.
Meanwhile, Luke was struggling to get a hold of either of his two older brothers. Both of them had been out with some of their friends, Luke wanting to stay home and be lazy all day. He had originally just gone into Y/n’s room to see if she wanted to order some food with him and that’s when this happened.
Finally, Luke had gotten a hold of Quinn who answered with a heavy sigh, “Yes Luke?”
He only rolled his eyes, “We have a problem.”
“We as in the three of us or we as in you and y/n/n?”
“Technically both?”
That’s what gained Quinn’s alertness. He instantly shushed the group of guys he was around, sticking one finger in his ear to block out the rest of the noise that came from the bar. Most of them looked at him quizzically while the rest  looked at him with annoyance, “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I walked into y/n’s room and she was just crying, wouldn’t say anything. When she finally calmed down I asked her if she wanted me to call you guys and she said yes, so I called.”
“And when you mean crying…?”
“The bear was in fact there.”
“Alright we’re on our way.”
“Get food and ice cream. She hasn’t been out of her room since she’s been home.”
“Okay.” And then the line went quiet.
At the bar, Quinn grabbed his jacket and eyed Jack, “Let’s go.”
“What? What’s going on?” Despite his questions, Jack followed him, grabbing his own jacket. 
“Y/n.”
And that was all Jack needed to hear to understand the urgency of the situation. 
゚ +*:୨୧:*﹤
Luke made his way back to the bedroom, shoving his phone back in his pocket, “They’re on their way, baby bear.”
She nodded, sitting up in the slightest. Her back now rested against the headboard, her knees curled up into her chest. He sat next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder, playing with the fur from her stuffed animal. 
It was quiet for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. Yet, the curiosity ate away at Luke’s brain so it wasn’t too long before he asked, “You wanna tell me what happened?”
She briefly looked up, not at him just forward, before shaking her head and looking back down. He frowned again, “Are you going to wait until they get home?”
This time she nodded and he let out a soft sigh of relief. He wasn’t oblivious to her tendencies to keep her emotions bottled up, most of the time they had to be relentlessly annoying to even get her to tell them how she was feeling. So the fact that she said she would tell them lifted a weight off his shoulders. 
The minutes from when Luke’s last words were spoken to when Jack and Quinn arrived home passed both silently and quickly. The two walked into her room, bags of food from her favorite restaurant in hand and another bag of random treats and desserts in the other. They smiled at her and took their seats on her bed, Quinn on her right side and Jack in front of Luke on her left. 
She eyed them as they started to take things out left and right, handing everyone their own food. Quinn took the initiative to turn the TV on and open the Disney+ App, finding Tangled and hitting play. Her eyes watered at their actions, unable to keep the tears in ultimately.
The three froze and exchanged glances with one another before looking at her. Their faces softened and Quinn pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears to soak the fabric on his shoulder. Jack paused the movie and Luke finished handing out the food. 
Once she calmed down again, she murmured a ‘thank you’ before reaching for her food.
“Ah ah ah, food after you tell us what’s wrong,” Jack spoke, tugging her food out of her hands. 
She pouted at him and played with her fingers before speaking, “He broke up with me.”
“Daniel?” “He what?” “Fucking hell.”
Their reactions startled her, but she still reached for her food, “I did my part.”
Jack only nodded and gave it over to her, all of them watching as she opened it slowly and started eating. The boys flanked at each other again but then decided to finally leave it alone and settle back into her bed, watching the movie play.
As the movie went on, everyone finished their food, Jack and Luke both getting up to go throw the trash away. Quinn and y/n continued to watch as Flynn died and Mother Gothel fell out of the window. As Flynn and Rapunzle exchanged what they both thought would be their last word’s to each other, y/n leaned further into Quinn and looked up at him, “Quinny?”
He looked down at her with a soft smile, “Yeah, baby bear?”
“Will I ever find my Flynn Rider?”
It seemed like a stupid question to ask, sure. But she was 17 and going through her first heartbreak (real heartbreak). All she wanted as her own prince to make her feel wanted and loved, was that too much to ask anymore?
Quinn felt his heart break at the question. He knew it was inevitable that she would experience something like this, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to protect her from it happening. He just held her tighter and kissed her head, “You will, y/n/n. You will.”
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𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧
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© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
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156 notes · View notes
lost-in-fandoms · 2 days
Note
Hi friend, please give us more streamer Max AU! First interaction between them maybe??
part 1 here
Daniel blinks awake, groggily turning off his alarm and rubbing his eyes, blindly reaching for the water on his bedside table.
The room is still pitch dark, the night quiet outside.
2:55 am.
He grabs his phone, settling again onto the pillows and clicking through his apps until he can open the now familiar twitch app and navigate to Max's channel, just in time to see the starting soon screen appear as it goes live.
He knows this is ridiculous. He knows that he is not helping himself or his unstable sleep patterns by setting an alarm in the middle of the night to watch a guy stream from somewhere in Europe, but as long as nobody knows nobody can judge him either, so that's okay.
He yawns, scratching at his chest, watching people say hello to each other in chat as it comes alive.
He has yet to ever type something there.
In the two weeks he's been watching Max, he has managed to figure out what subscriptions and gifted subs are, Max's schedule (stream four times a week plus whenever he feels like it), and has started to recognise some usernames in chat. But there is something about actually typing that feels...revealing.
His username is generic, just Daniel_358, the number randomly chosen until twitch stopped telling him the username was taken, but that's still his name. Connected to his private email. And he knows he's not doing anything wrong, but it still feels forbidden, to wake up at night and spend about two hours just looking at Max.
The screen suddenly changes, switching to Max's camera, his pretty smiling face filling Daniel's small screen. Not for the first time, he thinks about setting up the projector, just to be able to see more.
"Hello everyone, it's Friday! And we're playing Minecraft today."
Daniel lets Max's now familiar accent wash over him, feeling himself smile back instinctively. Max looks soft today in the dim golden glow of his light, a faded sweatshirt almost covering the very short grey shorts he's wearing, and it makes Daniel wish he had Max right there, in his bed, warm and sleep rumpled in the sheets.
Yes, he is aware how weird that is too. He knows that it would maybe be less weird if he only got off watching Max's streams.
He has by now mostly figured out Max's deal. He'll play his games, talk with chat, and from time to time do something that will make Daniel's breath stutter in his chest. Touching his legs, squeezing himself through his shorts, raising his shirt to touch his stomach, trailing his fingers down towards his pants. One memorable time, he had pushed it high enough to touch his own nipple, a visible shudder traveling through him. Daniel had almost come on the spot.
The whole stream sometimes ends up feeling like a 2 hours long edging session, and he is so painfully hard by the end of it he comes as soon as he gets a hand around himself, waiting until Max has said goodbye to do so.
He doesn't always get off though. One time he had actually fallen back to sleep, Max's voice and Stardew's soft sounds lulling him straight into dreamland. But he always gets at least a little bit hard, something too sensual and alluring about Max for him to help himself.
Today though, Max seems more subdued. He still has his legs splayed open, miles of fuzzy skin on display, but he's focusing more on the game, even replying less to chat.
Daniel frowns, knowing he's not the only one who has noticed it, other worried messages popping up, mixed with a few more rude ones, telling Max to get on with it already.
"Sorry chat," Max says, finally acknowledging the messages with a small laugh. He takes a hand away from his keyboard, but instead of one of the usual teasing touches, he brings it up to his face, rubbing at his eyes and then dragging it down his cheek.
"It's been a long week," he adds with a sigh, before pushing himself to sit a bit straighter, pulling his smile back on. He's playing with the hem of his shorts now, pulling them high enough they completely disappear under the sweatshirt, but Daniel can tell it's an halfhearted attempt at best.
For the first time, he pulls up the chat, fingers itching to write something, but not knowing how to word it without being offensive. "You don't have to touch yourself if you don't want to"? Nobody ever actually acknowledges that bit out loud, he can't be that direct. "You don't have to stream if you are tired"? Would that feel like he's telling Max he doesn't care about his stream? He doesn't want that to be the first impression Max has of him.
Daniel_358: anything we can do?
He feels stupid as soon as he sends it, cringing at himself. What would he even do? He's on the other side of the world, a complete stranger.
And yet Max smiles, soft and sweet, and Daniel's stupid heart jumps in his chest.
"Hello Daniel, welcome in. You just being here is enough."
Daniel knows, he knows, that Max is just saying that, just a throwaway line to make him feel good, but at the same time he can't help but melt a little at the way Max says his name. At the thought of Max wanting him there.
He watches as a few more messages pop up, offering vague support, and sees the moment it gets too much for Max, his face closing off a little as he goes back to the game, trying to redirect chat's attention to it.
Without thinking too much about it, Daniel navigates to Max's profile down to the donate button. He's hovered over it often enough he doesn't have any trouble finding it, but it still takes him a couple tries to figure out how to properly go through with it.
A few moments later, a new alert pops up on the stream, startling Max (and Daniel, even if he knew it was coming) badly enough he accidentally falls out of a tree.
Daniel_358 has donated €358: for making it through the week and as good luck for the next
Max blinks. Pauses the game, then blinks again.
"I..uh...thank you Daniel for the donation? That's...a lot of money, mate," he stutters out, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "Are you sure?"
Daniel_358: of course Daniel_358: you deserve it
Max's cheeks are red, his blue eyes wide, and Daniel's heart is still doing something weird in his chest.
"Thank you, then. It's...I of course appreciate it."
His voice sounds off, and for a moment Daniel is afraid he did something wrong, but then Max smiles, some tension in his shoulders disappearing.
"Well, Daniel just made the week better, so let's go back to chopping trees, yes?"
The chat explodes in a flurry of yeses and nodding emotes, and Daniel settles back on his pillows, feeling warm and satisfied.
The rest of the stream is more normal, Max going back to his usual teasing a few moments later, but for once Daniel doesn't feel like getting off, content with just watching Max's pretty smile and rosy blush. He still gets hard, he's not suddenly gone crazy (...or more crazy at least), but it doesn't feel as consuming as usual.
By the time Max says goodbye, Daniel is half asleep, curled up in his blankets, his phone laying on the pillow next to his.
When the screen goes dark he yawns, stretching slightly and dipping two fingers into his boxers, trying to decide if he feels like getting off or if he's sleepy and content enough to save it for the morning.
He's brushing a finger against the tip of his dick, still contemplating, when his phone dings, a new notification sound he's never heard before. Curious, he takes his hand out, reaching for it and unlocking it.
The twitch app is still open, now with a red number 3 next to the messages icon, and when he clicks on it he almost drops his phone again in surprise.
Player00Max: Hello Daniel Player00Max: I hope it is okay if i message you I wanted to thank you for the donation Player00Max: but it is a lot of money so I of course can reimburse you if you changed your mind
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daydreamerwoah · 6 hours
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Family Tree
Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)
Simon x you story <3
Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago. 
"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear. 
"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.
One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?
"Yeah? Who is this?" 
"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"
"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused. 
"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell." 
You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?" 
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"
"Yes. Look I don't know who-"
"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."
While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?
When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time. 
"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello. 
"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.
"-Oh it's okay.." 
There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same. 
"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear. 
The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes. 
"C-Charles?"
You sighed, "Yes..." 
She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"
"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be." 
"He is your dad sweetie."
Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."
Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad. 
A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults. 
You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything. 
It was the beginning of a new life.
************************************************************************
You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.
When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard. 
"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into. 
"S'alright" the gentleman said. 
He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets. 
God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between. 
When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation. 
Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe. 
"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained. 
You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly. 
It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure. 
Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked. 
Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work." 
You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off. 
"Maybe next time then," she smiled. 
One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got. 
************************************************************************
The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path. 
Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell. 
"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."
You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery. 
If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)
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seecarrun · 2 days
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“Have you ever noticed that TV characters are only ever sick for one day?”
Misty paused in blowing her nose to raise an eyebrow at Ash’s random comment. “What?”
“Okay, so on TV, if a character is sick, and the plot of the episode is that the character is sick, they’re only ever sick for one day. That doesn’t happen if real life. If you get sick—” he gestured to himself and Misty, “you’re usually sick for at least a few days.”
Misty had woken up the other morning feeling rather under the weather, which she told Ash when he invited her to his house in Pallet where he would be for a few days between adventures.
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Ketchum, the absolute angel of a women, decided to whip up some of her famous vegetable noodle soup for Misty, and Ash, being his normal kind, yet dimwitted, self, decided to not only hand deliver it, but stick around and help her reheat it, eat it, and clean up.
And of course, woke up the next morning sick himself.
As soon as she heard, Delia all but demanded they both to come back to Pallet so she could take care of them, and never one to deny her anything, really, Misty closed the Gym for the weekend to travel with Ash on Charizard to Pallet Town and get nursed back to health by his saint of a mother.
They were laying on the couch together now, a head on each end and their feet all tangled and in each other’s way in the middle, rotting in front of the TV and making sure to keep themselves hydrated, when Ash decided to start saying his wackadoo thoughts out loud, to her ever growing confusion and amusement.
“Ash, what are you even talking about?” she sighed, but Ash was apparently not going to let this one go.
“You never just get sick for just a day!” he insisted again. “Name one illness that gets you sick for only one day.”
Misty pursed her lips, sniffed, and then snapped her fingers is triumph and stated simply, “Twenty-four hour flu.”
Ash’s face fell before scrunching into disbelief. “That’s not a real thing.”
“Yes it is,” Misty scoffed, but Ash just shook his head.
“No way. It’s just been made up for TV to make stupid sick character plots work.”
“Ash,” Misty groaned, though she had to admit she was amused more than anything. “Are you insane?”
“No!” he cried, causing himself to cough, but he cleared his throat and continued. “No, it’s totally made up! Like Pokérus.”
“Pokérus is absolutely real, you lunatic!” she exclaimed, laughing. “My starmie caught it once!”
“It is not! There was this guy standing outside’ve a Pokemon Center in Unova that was yelling about it! He had pamphlets!”
“Nooo, Ash!” she shrieked again, practically in tears from her laughter. “Do not listen to people yelling outside of Pokemon Centers! Oh my god!”
In the kitchen, Delia just smiled fondly at the ruckus and poured two more hot mugs of tea.
At least they appeared to be feeling better.
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pickmedolls · 1 day
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✸﹏𓉸ྀི ݁ ˖ ◜GET READY! DOLL SUMMER IS HERE!!
DOLL SUMMER is the third mini album of Heartbreak’s beloved girl group Pick Me. It was released on July 10th, 2024 and featured the tittle track STICKY, which they promoted alongside the lead track ACT LIKE AN ANGEL for four weeks. During this time, they performed STICKY thirteen times, and ACT LIKE AN ANGEL another six. In addition, the girls performed each of remaining the tracks at least once, making the total of twenty-six performances from which twenty-two earned them a win.
GET YOUR PHOTOCARDS HERE!!
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⁰¹ STICKY ⁰² GET HIM BACK! ⁰³ CALL ME (4 A GOOD TIME) ⁰⁴ HOW MANY LOVERS? ⁰⁵ ACT LIKE AN ANGEL
⁰¹ The title track might just be the most controversial song on the album. With Pick Me’s carefree and unfiltered style, it’s almost a given that they’ll face backlash for being too bold and "tarnishing" the reputation of K-pop. With STICKY, the drama erupted over its choreography and revealing outfits. Used to this kind of drama, Yue and Kiko went live, with Yue declaring: “Look, I’m done repeating myself. We’re real people, not company-controlled idols. If we want to wear cute little sundresses and shake our asses in our songs, that’s our call. Stop being a fucking pain in the ass and go stan someone else. Honestly, we couldn’t care less”, to which Kiko would add: “And we’re all adults, for you information. We’re allow to twerk on camera.”
⁰² Rumor has it that Jules and Rosie wrote this song with a particular name in mind. Shortly after the group’s debut, both girls found themselves caught up in a rumor claiming they were romantically involved with the same guy, who was allegedly cheating on one with the other. The guy in question was said to be none other than Lee Junseo, a well-known soloist under IDOL MAKER and former groupmate of Jules, artistically known as JUNO. Although the rumor was never confirmed by the companies or those involved, it was never denied either. Years later, with the release of their mini-album, the fire has reignited, and fans are convinced that GET HIM BACK is a silent confirmation of the rumor.
⁰³ CALL ME (4 A GOOD TIME) is yet another testament to the girls’ vocal prowess and their commitment to delivering live. This track is the only one on the album that got its own Band Live Version, quickly becoming a stan Twitter classic for shutting down any haters who doubt their live performance skills. Microphones were on, and the girls ate and left no crumbs! All drama aside, this song is an uncommon occurrence because Yue rarely produces and writes entire tracks on her own.
⁰⁴ No Pick Me album is complete without a Jules-produced banger to let loose and dance until you drop. HOW MANY LOVERS? aligns with the album’s overall sound but adds Jules’ signature fresh and playful twist. Her solo fans devoured the song and made sure stan Twitter was flooded with her fancams. To top it off, the girls released a series of TikTok videos under the hashtag #LoversParty!, where they danced to the chorus alongside various idols, with quick-cut edits switching from one person to another—if you haven’t seen it yet, you’ll want to check out the video above.
⁰⁵ Produced by Heidi, a regular in the girls' discography, ACT LIKE AN ANGEL is the album's most viral track. This comes as no surprise, since all of Heidi's productions tend to become fan favorites, often driving the most traction and success. Heidi's journey as a producer for Pick Me dates back to the girls' debut, when she was personally sought out by Heartbreak to produce Angel of My Dreams, the first of many bops to her name.
ARTISTS CREDITED ﹏ Finn (@bluwavez) ✸ Heidi (@allta1k)
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✸﹏Fuck Brat Summer, it’s Doll Summer all along!
✸﹏In an episode of Doll Diaries, the hit behind-the-scenes mini-series for Pick Me, fans caught a bit of drama in the background of one scene. You can hear Sylvia Hara, the group’s creative director and manager, and Yue having a pretty heated conversation off to the side. The mics barely picked it up, but after hours of replaying the clip, fans are convinced Sylvia was going off on Yue for her attitude during one of the group’s win performances, where she looked pissed at Rosie and Jules.
Different fan accounts have slightly different takes, but the general gist of the convo goes something like this: “Yue, you’re not fucking five years old. I don’t give a shit how you feel about them or what you think off-camera. When the cameras are rolling, you cut the crap and smile. I’m done with this bullshit.”
Yue’s solo stans immediately jumped to defend her when the other girls’ solo fans tried to paint her as a bully. She later took to Twitter, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding and that she was having a bad day during the performance. Even Kiko chimed in, saying that everything’s good between the members and that their relationship is actually super close.
✸﹏The girls promoted…[ERROR_NOT FOUND]
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gt-abby · 2 days
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Tiny!Omega AU
“THAT’S Omega?” Wrecker, exclaimed, a little too loud and close for Omega’s little ears. She could feel his breath brushing through her hair, and she shuddered.
“Wrecker…” They heard from behind them. Hunter was pressing his pointer finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose in disappointment. Wrecker wasn’t exactly known for his environmental awareness. “You’re gonna scare her if you lean in so close.” Hunter walked over and pushed the big guy a little bit back.
“So… what happened exactly?” Echo piped up from behind them, walking into the room. They were on the Marauder, after Hunter gathered around everyone to talk about the situation.
“Well, as far as I can tell,” Tech said as he clicked on a few buttons on his datapad, “We have yet to find an answer to this question.” He looked up.
Hunter scooped up his little girl with both of his palms as he held her up to their eye level. She’s never been so high before, since she was the shortest of the bunch. That took on a whole new meaning after Hunter found her on the rocks on the beach of Pabu, after looking for her for hours. Omega scratched the back of her head.
“I only just remember waking up on that rock from a nap when I heard Hunter shout my name…” she said, her voice was too small even for her. They all looked at her as if with question marks over their heads. Those four men were absolutely mountainous, even more so now that she was merely 9 centimeters tall. She cowered in front of them, unable to speak. Hunter seemed to have sensed that. He was good at reading her body language.
“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do now.” He said with his authoritative voice, “Tech, go with Echo to scout out the beach areas for any signs of anything unusual. Wrecker, go get some food. I’ll handle Omega.”
And so, they all left the room, each to their tasks as Hunter placed Omega back on the table and sat across from her, only his head visible above the surface.
“Hunter…” Omega began but couldn’t let any more words out before the tears started spilling out. She was shaking, and Hunter was left baffled, and unprepared.
“Hey, wow, hey, kid, it’s okay-“
She put her head in her hands as she wept, overwhelmed with emotions. Fear, anxiety, the burden of the unknown, all resurfaced once they were alone. He watched her as she let everything out, helpless in the situation of trying to comfort a child in such a bizarre state. Everything he’d been training for, all battle scenarios, survival tactics etc., were nothing compared to this. His little girl that he swore to keep from harm, needed him most, and he could do nothing. He clenched his fists under the table. They too were shaking. But he didn’t let himself break.
Hunter held out his finger and as gently as possible he lifted her tiny little chin so she would look at him.
“Everything will be okay, kid. I promise.”
—-
Here’s a little snippet of my new project. I hope people like this enough to keep reading in the future.
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dropsnectar · 8 hours
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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader
PART FIVE
NSFW
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Well! Five parts later and here is your bee-smut! There will be other parts to this, and part six will probably be up by later tonight, since I'm on a roll rn. tw: breasts WILL be mentioned lol
When Rena finally stopped flying, you were outside of a large structure. You’d always imagined the hive itself as a sort of large cartoon beehive, but instead found something that looked more like a gymnasium. The outside coating looked almost like a gray paper mache, no sharp edges in sight. The “building” stood four stories tall and seemed to form itself around the impossibly tall trees of the ancient wood. It stretched impossibly wide, and you couldn’t tell quite how long the building stretched on.
There were several guard bees at the entrance. You recognized one of them as a bee-men you had met at the music festival. They saw you and Rena and immediately moved aside, Rena pushing you through the door. She eventually grabbed your hand and started to guide you through what seemed like tunnels.
The ceiling shone with a faint light, much like the inside of the shed you had visited once. You weren’t able to do much. You were out of breath from your running when you eventually made it to a large room with a high ceiling. You could see about thirty bee-men, scattered around this way and that. Many of them met your eyes, looks of pity, and despair settling in the ridges between their eyebrows and noses. You kept on, until Rena brought you through another tunnel, passing room after room. Finally, it seemed you had made it to where you were supposed to be and you saw a figure slumped down in a small alcove in the wall. You’d recognize these those wings anywhere.
“Lyith!” You yelled, running to his side. You turned him over, and you were taken with a strange forbidden feeling  pulsing its way into your head. It was like a current was pushing at the dam of your mind, waiting to break. Lyiths usual, lemon-grapefruit sent had turned sour, like he was rotting. He was pulling in breath after breath, like his lungs couldn’t hold onto any of it. His limbs shook and twitched. He didn’t seem to be aware of anything going on in the room.
“He smells like decaying magic. Whats going on Rena.” You knew what she would say, but refused to believe it.”
“Lyith can’t handle his own mana right now. It's not compatible with his body anymore.” Rena’s eyes were filled with tears.
“But that only happens when you guys are starved for magic right? Haven told me! You guys have been able to get more magic from my honey, why is he…” Your face was hot and your mouth was dry.
“He was very weak before he started getting nutrients. His body didn’t build strength quick enough to adjust to the influx of energy..”
“But you guys were descended from gods right? You're like demigods! Can’t you heal him?”
“The problem isn’t his physical body, it’s his magical one. The structure around his magic is too weak. Listen, Little One, there is still something we can do. You can do.”
Leith let out a gargling buzz. It sounded almost like he was choking.
“You can use your magic. I don’t know how it works, but your mana is very compatible with ours.” She took your hands and pulled them around Lyiths, pressing down firmly.
“There are two forms of magic when it comes to us. Our own magic, and our hives. His magic can’t handle the hives so its burning itself up trying to keep up. If you use your magic and join it to his for a while, you might be able to give him enough strength to endure for a time. But if you do this wrong, and add your magic to that of the hive…”
“It’ll overwhelm him. I’d kill him.”
“He’s already dying, (y/n).” This was the first time Rena had ever called you by name.
You stared out at Lyith’s face, wincing at how he was contorting in pain. It was just like Haven had described. His magic was burning him up.
You didn’t know if this would work, but you had to try. You carefully shook yourself from Rena’s grip, placing your hands onto Lyith’s cheeks. You concentrated on the feeling of magic. Immediately, your vision went starry. You were overwhelmed with white pulsing hot magic. It overtook all of your senses. It took everything you had to mentally claw and pull yourself up enough to be, let alone see. There was so much there. You immediately recognized the feeling of Rena’s mind, then Haven’s then that of so many others who had shared their feelings with you overtimes. You could feel their astonishment. The horror, the joy, the disturbed and the hopeful. You had to pull yourself out of it. This feeling must be the magic of the hive that Rena had been talking about.
You reached your awareness out further, concentrating on Lyith, but it was so hard to find him over the rushing current of magic. You eventually found his pain first, and followed it back to a racing, burning hot feeling. You grasped onto it with all of your might. You reached around and tried to feel out where Lyith began and the rest of the hive began, but it took time. Too much time.
You eventually grasped him, using your magic to form a barrier around his consciousness and the magic that surrounded him. There was no physical realm in your eyes, just magic, and you slowly started to piece your own mana out to his, watching it trickle around him. You could see it then, the structures, the geometry that made him up, like he was a log cabin and his wooden beams were burning. 
Yes! That was it! You saw it now. 
Slowly, you pushed your magic into his structure, fortifying it, adding layers of concrete to his wood. That little pool of energy inside you became a well, and you added it to the weakest parts of the house. A wall had already collapsed so you concentrated on building that up again, using the ash that had already been burnt. The fire, the fire burning the house was trying to consume you too, it hurt, almost forcing your mind back into your body. 
“Little witch please be careful.” Lyith whispered in your ear. But you didn’t have a body, you were a well. The voice had been weak. Too weak. You needed to heal him, build him up again. You continued to work, fueled by your desperate need not to see him die. You gave your magic over to him, and suddenly he wasn’t a house anymore but a garden. LIke your garden! You could feel him completely around you. His breath was your wind, his body the soil.
But his garden was decayed. His flowers were wilted, the stalks browning. You couldn’t leave him like that. Not your Lyith.
“Slow down.” You heard him hiss, from somewhere you couldn’t quite see. A part of you was happy, he was finally awake somewhat. But you were not done yet, you needed to heal him. You took that pool of energy that was inside of yourself and got to work. It was easy, you had done this so often, building up the flowers and letting them grow. Letting them heal.
It felt good. A warm excitement filled your consciousness, urging you on. There was no pain here. Usually when you expel your magic it weakened you. But this. This felt good. Like that ease in your muscles after a good walk.
You continued to build up the garden. You could feel Lyith everywhere. He could feel his strength returning as you worked. The burning fire had turned to a warm summer heat, perfect for growing. 
“You know not what you do little one, I am well, you have to--” He let out a moan. Something within you stirred. He had told you to stop but you could feel him. Feel his mind and his truth. He didn’t want you to. He didn’t want you to stop. You pushed your mind further against him, like a cat rubbing their head against their owner. There was a building of the summer heat coursing through him, through you, and you wanted more. 
You pushed at him, mushed your magic into his garden, totally invading his senses. All you wanted him to think about was you, feel you. And he did. The more magic you channeled into him, the more the excitement built, searing hot pleasure flooding all of your senses. You weren’t sure if it was his or yours. You wanted more. You pushed against him again. You didn’t stop, all you felt was pleasure mounting. Hot needy pleasure. The garden you had made was healed now. His magic was sturdy, strong, healthy. You had done it! You had healed him, and you were together and--
The pulsating, beating heat crescendoed and you cried out, he cried out, and then all you felt and all you two were was ecstasy. 
You weren’t sure how long the two of you rode out your high. It was amazing, delicious and your body ached. Your body.. Slowly, your senses came back to you. You had a body. You could feel it now. Toes and fingers and eyes. You could see. And what you saw was Lyith under you, his beautiful eyes glazed over, drool trailing out of his mouth. His skin was hot under your fingertips. During your work you had straddled him. Your underwear was warm, wet, and you could feel a bulge pushing up against your clothed entrance. Your awareness finally pulled away from his and your mind was your own again.
Except it wasn’t wasn’t exactly yours anymore. You felt the ghost of a bond in the back of your head. A bond that trailed back to Lyith. You had done something that couldn’t be undone.
You felt Lyiths large sturdy hands squeeze your thighs. Affection and and loud, resilient devotion. You could taste it on the air, as you focused on it, it overwhelmed all your senses.
“My Queen. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He breathed out, his voice still ragged.
Queen?
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
You pulled back, pushing your body off of Lyith and against the wall of the cot. Your tired, sore body was weakening, as the realization of what you had just done crashed upon you.
“I… I only meant to heal you.”
Lyith looked at you with soft eyes, before pulling himself up to face you.
“And you did. You did it perfectly. But it worked a little too well. You shouldn’t have been able to do that. Not like this.” He reached forward and cradled your hands.
“But it happened.” He pulled your hands to cup his cheeks. He stared at you, his expression complicated. You knew if you pulled on the bond it would all be open to you, every little complicated emotion. There was a tickle in your mind. He wanted you to feel how he felt.
There was sadness, for causing you pain. Ache and relief, to finally have you, pride, to be able to call you his, and for you to call him yours. Bewilderment, that your power was such that you could ensnare him in such a way, and curiosity of how the two of you would maneuver through this. And there was an instinctual part, buzzing and excited to finally have a queen to serve, to breed-”
Okay that was probably a little too far! You pulled back enough for a bit of embarrassment to pass across his face. But he held your gaze. He had shown you all of his truth and you loved him for it. 
“Well, this has been a really wild afternoon.” Rena said, loud enough to break up your scene.
The horror of realizing Rena had just witnessed everything and probably felt it too, made you choke on the air in your throat. Your already hot face charged up to a solar flare.
She was sitting down, leaning against the wall. A feral smirk on her face, both pairs of arms crossed around her chest. One finger was slowly, meaningfully tapping against her arm.
“Well, um-- you see-- it was an accident!” You sputtered, pulling away from Lyiths grasp to the end of the bed. You didn’t look at Lyith, only tried to explain the words of what happened but not finding them.
Rena suddenly stood up, her stance strong as she purposefully stalked towards your end of the bed. Her gaze was burning, a hungry smile on her face as she leaned down, and tilted your chin up with a black finger.
“Little One, only Queens can bond to a Bee-men like that. For a Human, we would have to spend weeks prepping you before you could even manage to attempt what you have done.”
She moved forward, putting both of her knees outside of yours, leaning over you with a fire in her eyes.
“I knew there was something different about you. I want to know what, and I want you to do that again.” Her bottom set of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her other hand gripped your shoulder.
Your heart was roaring now, and you looked to Lyith for help. He was watching with amusement, leaning back against the headboard wall of the cot. There wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in his features or his mind.  Whatever was going on, he was definitely down for it. 
You swallowed thickly.
“C-can’t we t-take a moment to think this over?” 
She ignored you, her gaze straying to your lips. The hands at your waist started to roam, gently moving up and down, one wandered to the hem of your shirt, the other cupping the curve of your ass and rubbing through the fabric.
You tried not to let your arousal show, starting to tremble under her ministrations, as she watched you with her triumphant, molten gaze.
“Lyith may have been yours first, but I won’t let him have you to himself.” She leaned forward and gently bit down on the curve of your ear. Your breath hitched and you had to keep yourself from mewling.
 “I’m yours too, you know?” She said this part gently, an earnestness made its way into your mind. It felt like how she smelled and you leaned into it. 
If you were truly a Queen now, there was no going back. Things had changed since you had bonded with Lyith. Rena was someone you treasured too. She was arrogant and sweet, and she had always been kind in the ways that mattered.
Well. What was one more anyway? You thought, closing your eyes and leaning your body into Rena’s. She let out a triumphant trill, Then slowly started dragging her impossibly long textured tongue up your neck. 
“I’m going to show you how we normally prepare a human queen.” She purred. Her arms moved to pull up your shirt as you felt the cot move under you. Lyith had moved from his spot from the end of the bed, and had situated himself behind you, his own arms curling around your hips, playing with the edges of your pants.
“While this looks very fun, I’m not the type to just sit and watch.” He sang out in a low voice. Rena huffed and rolled her eyes. But she continued to undress you, long fingers hitching around your bra and freeing your breasts. She leaned back and looked at them, purring the whole time.
Well. It looked like you were in for a long night.
Part Six (Beware NSFW)
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menacenearby · 2 days
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Another LU (Au??) idea drop, lesgo 👏💥
So basically the chain is reincarnated into the modern world, all of them are some kind of students, are working somewhere, going to school and all that bull
They meet by chance, the snowball effect where from one person you meet another and so they made a circle where suddenly at some point everyone knows everyone
THE CATCH is that not a single one of them knows they're named Link
Everyone uses their nicknames they've given themselves but they don't know that. They just treat them as their names, etc. The thing is, the longer they know each other someone suddenly catches onto something that starts to make less and less sense to 'em the longer they think about it (I'm thinking Wind? Maybe Hyrule catches onto something idk) and so they confront each other 'bout it
Soon tho they realize something is fucking wrong because WHY would [Chain member who realized something is sus] come to the person they barely know and met not that long ago. And what's up with this sudden feeling of... Feeling safe around them? Safe enough to come to them and tell them something so important, they barely know each other! What if they think they're nuts–
But no. (I'm thinking of Four who also thinks something's wrong but doesn't immediately tell it to anyone) It's right here, something's *wrong* and when they share it with everyone they start to realize some things in their world doesnt make ANY fucking sense
(That's the point where they try questioning their "names" because what, Legend? Fucking who names their child Legend! Warriors? Even worse! What the fuck is wrong with this name????)
AND boom balang nyoom, it turns out they're all stuck in a time loop. In a world that was hero-less, and where there wasn't any danger, they came to the world where Hylia wasn't even remembered anymore alongside any kind of heroes, villains, etc.
Everything is treated as fables, BUT there IS a Ganon roaming through these lands. He's just minding his own business and working a normal job lmfao
What Chain HAS to do in order to come back and resume their adventure is to make Ganon from this world become the "bad guy of the century" so they could either defeat him or be sent back to their respectful times so this world could get a Link on its own
AS YOU CAN GUESS, not all of the members are agreeing with this line of thought. Some think it's inevitable and decide to process with the plan to make Ganon snap. Others think it's bullshit and they clearly shouldn't interfere in the world where the cycle has been clearly stopped
The story progresses further and they're either going to find a way to come back on their own and leave Ganon alone OR abode by the worlds (Maybe Hylia's, maybe some other Gods???) rules and make Ganon help them by him becoming an actual threat (Be it willing or unwillingly)
There are so many possibilities and ways this shit could go heLP-
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xxvalkyriesxx · 2 days
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Flying Changes - Chapter Six
A Nessian Equestrian Fic
Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part
Read on AO3 or below!
@nessianweek (post for Day Seven - Free Day)
AN: Hello Everyone!!! It's been a bit since I last updated Flying Changes! Thank you so much for being kind and patient with me as I participated in my first Nessian week! You can read the fics I wrote for Nessian week either through my Nessian Week 2024 series or the NessianWeek2024 collection here on AO3!! You can also read my fics on Tumblr if you're there too!
Shout out to IRL fandom friend who's been helping with some details for this chapter and a few others! They're amazing and I love them!!
CW: Panic attacks, discussions on anxiety
Snippet:
“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.”
Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.” 
She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?”
Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.”
Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”
**
Ironically this was the first time Nesta stepped foot into Cassian’s office. It was above the therapy barn’s tack room. Windows were displayed on the side creating a perfect view of most of the stalls. She couldn't help but wonder how many times he had watched her through these windows as she did chores. Was it similar to how she would watch from her bedroom window?
The door shut as Cassian walked through the threshold. The sound made Nesta’s shoulders tense, her heartbeat was faster than normal. A sick familiar wave of dread anchored her belly, pinning her to the chair she sat in. Cassian crossed over to his desk speaking, but not a single word did she hear. Not as phantom memories filled her ears like water. Her eyes were casted downwards, afraid. Afraid of what she couldn’t tell. The anxiety of her rotten memories or the anxiety of the what-ifs littering her mind like landfills.
Will I ever break free from this cycle? Or is this the cycle the Mother doomed me to run in through until I’m six feet under, giving my skin and hair back to the world that created me.
Nesta.
Her name was called, but the voice was so distorted was it even real? Air suddenly felt like a right that she couldn’t have. As she breathed, the world around her began to shrink. The walls of the room pushed closer and closer to where she sat. The furniture scratched across the wooden floors.
Nesta, you’re having… panic attack. I’m going…open the door…let air in…need you to focus… Tether yourself…
The voice weaved through her ears, not catching everything that was spoken. There was a presence near her, but it wasn’t too close, but too far. It was familiar and oddly made her feel warm in the arctic hellscape of her mind. The room froze in her terminal, but the furniture kept quiet, the walls still as statues. Her head took in the scene before her.
Five things. What five things can you see? Can you describe them to me?
Words piled onto her tongue waiting for her mind to open her mouth, but nothing fell out. The presence was still near her, but close enough to touch.
Breathe. Name five things.
Windows. Desk. Couch. Photo. Books.
Good, describe them to me.
The windows are to the right of me. I can see the stalls from there.
The desk is in front of me. It's brown.
The couch is on my left side. It’s velvet and green.
There’s a picture on the wall, seven guys in camo.
Books…They were on the nearby shelf. The books are different colors. Blacks, grays, and reds. Some look thick, some thin.
That’s great Nesta. What are four things you can touch?
Somehow the room started to shift back to place. The walls went back in their normal position. Nesta blinked, feeling the wood of the chair she sat in. Her eyes adjusted, the blur slowly leaving her sight. The chair. The wood is smooth, but the further I go, I feel ridges carved with designs.
Nesta reached over to the desk picking up a stack of papers. Documents, probably important. Thin yet the stack holds weight.
Still on the desk, Nesta grabbed a toy horse. A tiny horse. It’s dapple gray and seems to be cantering. The mane and tail are a little sharp with the horse in motion. It’s a plastic toy, but not a breyer horse.
Finally she reached over to the nearby lamp, her hand around the pull-switch. It was metallic and beaded, slightly cool in between her finger pads. Gently she pulled it, the lamp turning on, a warm light filling her vision. The pull-switch of this lamp. It’s kinda cold, not heavy.
I see you, Nesta. You’re grounding yourself. Can you name three things you can hear?
Taking a deep breath, the air traveled from her nose to mouth, in a setting she didn’t know how long it took her to exhale. Was it fast? Was it too slow? Was this good enough? Her gaze wandered over the blur that tricked her eyes. Slightly focused then slightly not.
Focus. What three things do you hear?
Head breaking the surface of the distorted noise, Nesta focused. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Nesta looked away from the blurb, her eyes landing on an old grandfather clock. The clock, it’s ticking. She shifted, taking another breath.
Eventually another noise drifted from the open door. A horse was neighing, probably Jasper. He was the one horse who never shut up. The sound gave light to her belly. Her body wiggled and moved in the chair, the anchor pulling from the pit. Jasper. He’s loud.
Then she heard the blur snort, an almost laugh. Or was it a laugh for real? Your laugh?
“Why are you saying it as a question?” “Are you laughing?”
Silence met her until a voice strode into her mind. “Yes, I’m laughing. You know the horses better than I thought.”
“Name me two things you can smell.”
Nesta sniffed and then sniffed again. A scent, there was a scent that swayed around the room that provided enough evidence it was lingering in the air instead of in her head. “It smells like fall. Clove, cedar, maybe a hint of vanilla? It’s not strong, the scent is mellow enough. Like a candle.” Her head wandered until she saw an air freshener plugged into a nearby socket.
She took another breath, her mind still as she narrowed down something else. It came after moments on end as she tried hard to find something past the scented cloud that was in the office. The other scent was fading, but it gave Nesta just the tiniest of scrapes, in the shape of a needle. “Hay…It’s a dumb answer being in a horse barn.”
“Not at all.”
Her come down was less of free falling and now floating. The ground was in sight as if she could stretch her toes down to touch the floor before her feet fully planted on it.
“Name one person or thing that you’re grateful for.”
A slow rise of panic crawled in, making her go from her body floating in air to a being in hot air balloon. The fire brought her up. Nesta took one, two, three deep breaths slowly, keeping her heartbeat regulated. A face came into view of a woman, beautiful brown eyes, black hair. Her presence was what a friend was described as in the books Nesta read. She clung the name close to her heart. “Emerie.”
“Nesta.” The voice spoke her name.
She looked up to see Cassian kneeling near her. Close enough he could touch her if he tried, but provided a safe distance. Something twanged in her heart, but she pushed it away. It wasn’t anxiety, it was nonsense.
“You did excellent.” He praised, a soft smile on his lips. “The door.” She whispered the barrier, but swallowed her anxiety, speaking clearly. “The door. It was the door that triggered me.”
Cassian’s ears pinked as his fingers pulled on his ponytail. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to slam the door like that.” His gaze lingered from the floor to her eyes. Nesta nodded. “It’s..it’s okay, you didn’t know. But I would prefer not to be taken away to a private area when you’re angry. It..” Her memory was bile rising up her throat.
Cassian nodded slightly, encouraging her. There was no force in his demeanor. “It just brings up..bad stuff.” She didn’t want to name it as if it was a curse looking to haunt her. “That’s..that’s all I need to know, Nesta. I’ll know going forward that isn’t the best plan of action.”
“Thank you.”
“I wanted to speak to you in private because I did want to address a few things that happened in that arena.” Cassian said as he stood up, sitting slightly on top of his desk.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” “I hate to admit this Nesta, but you did.” His voice was calm, apologetic. There was no hate or taunt that threaded his letters. “What did you think I did wrong by standing up for Gwyn.”
Cassian shook his head. “It’s not that.. That took courage. Courage that most people in today’s world don’t have.” “Then what was your issue?” Nesta asked, an irritation gnawing at her. “Legal.”
Nesta blinked once, then twice. She didn’t know why but she was expecting something stupid to come out his mouth like because she’s traumatized or something even misogynistic about her being a woman or perhaps both.
“Legally, if you were to do that and not be an actual staff member during an actual lesson if the ranch was up and running, then you would become liable for whatever happens in that arena, and how it affects everyone there and on this ranch.”
A bitter response was out before she could yank the anger back. “Then hire actual people to prevent what I had to witness.” She waited for his anger to bite her back, sending her from panics to complete rage.
“Well…I can’t argue with that, now can I?”
Nesta opened her mouth, then closed, then opened to say something, then abruptly closing her lips again. Cassian shook with laughter and somehow Nesta thought there were butterflies flying in her belly. It would be a lie to say she hated the feeling.
“Forgive me, but you’re just really cute when you’re like that, Nesta.” Cassian smiled brightly. Her face was in flames with how pink her cheeks came to be. She quickly looked away, her nose scrunching from the embarrassment. He laughed a little more before leaning back, his hands resting on the edge of the desk.
“Back to what we were speaking about. I’m glad you were there for Gwyn and helped her get more simulated with horses. It was a greatcall to use Sundrop. However, you may be an Olympic equestrian, but you never trained to work with therapy horses. Things could have gotten a lot worse today.”
He shrugged. “I mean for all we know, the shitty therapist could be bad mouthing the ranch. I guess it’s a good thing we are technically closed. And I guess I still have a lot to learn being a ranch manager.” “I can’t argue with that.” The smallest of smirks on her lips, echoing his statement from moments ago. Cassian pursed his lips as he shook his head.
“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.” Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.”
She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?” Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.” Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”
“Horses shit a lot. Take it as a learning lesson, Nes.” “That’s not my name.” Nesta glared at him. His lips were sealed as she scoffed before turning around.
As she crossed the threshold, Nesta couldn’t help but think Cassian looked similar to his younger self from the photograph in his office surrounded by fellow military personnel.
**
Pushing the wheelbarrow through the barn, Nesta hated to admit that Cassian was right. The stalls were dirtier than usual in between cleanings.
“Damn horses.” Nesta mumbled underneath her breath as she went to the first empty stall. There was a stall sign that resembled a plaque installed into the front of the stall. The sign read “Odysseus”. There was no show name or owner name, but as they didn’t board the barn out to outsiders, it made sense why there was no need to showcase the owner.
With the pitchfork in her gloved hand, Nesta cleaned out the stall, ridding it of the dirty hay and shit that littered the stall mat. Next, Nesta grabbed the buckets from the stall, giving the water and food buckets a good rinse both drying them off. On her way back, she grabbed new bedding. She layered the new bedding over the mat, making sure it was rid completely of manure and wet bedding before the new bedding was placed.
Before coming to the ranch, Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she used any of her muscles before her fall. She used to dance on the side, and did it while she drank, but it had been almost a year since she last had the urge to dance at all. The first two weeks were rough, but slowly the settled routine gave her some stamina to flesh out.
It didn’t stop her from breaking a sweat once she finished the first stall. The wheelbarrow wasn’t too full, so Nesta moved along to the next empty stall, when something shiny caught her eye. It was a necklace that hung right outside the stall. Taking a closer look, Nesta’s fingers held it up.
A dog tag.
Usual dog tags had the person’s full name, service number, blood type, and religion, instead this one read something entirely different.
Baby Bat | NCAF | PJ
Confusion scrawled onto Nesta’s features as she touched the custom made dog tag. NCAF was the Night Court Air Force, but nothing came to mind with PJ. Maybe it was their unit? But who was Baby Bat? Her teeth bit her bottom lip as she recalled hearing that Rhysand and Azriel served in the NCAF with Cassian, could this be one of theirs?
But as Nesta looked up she noticed another silver dog tag at a different stall. How did I not notice these before? This one read as:
Bat Jazz | NCAF | PJ
Apparently they were fond of bats in this family..Nesta rolled her eyes as she looked back up, noticing four more tags across different stalls. She tilted her head, thinking.
There’s six tags in here, but the photo in Cassian’s office, including him there was seven. Rhysand and Azriel were not in that photo either. Nesta thought to herself as she tried to piece together a puzzle with half the box missing.
“Hey Nesta.” A voice said behind her.
Nesta immediately jumped up, shock and fear twirling around her spine as she spun around to face the person.
“What the fuck..oh..Azriel..what are you doing?” Her gaze traveled from his face to his hands full carrying a western saddle. The color was a rich dark brown, almost black with the horn at a normal height.
“Not much, just polished my saddle for Singer.” She blinked. It was the first time she saw either of the Valyrian brothers hold horse tack.
“Do you compete?” Nesta nodded to the saddle. “Yes’em.” A draw flowed from his voice. “'You ever learned to ride western?” Nesta snorted. “Of course I did. Just because my focus was on English equestrian didn’t mean I didn’t branch out of it every once in a while.”
She leaned against the stall door. “What do you compete in?” Azriel shrugged. “I do a little of everything at the rodeos. Although I focus mainly on bull riding.”
“You bull ride?” Her jaw dropped, just a fraction. “Sure do. Windhaven is small enough that my record is impressive.” “Which is what, three seconds?”
“Ten seconds actually.”
From what she knew about bull riding, which wasn’t a lot, it was extremely impressive. Her gaze traveled up and down Azriel noting the muscles she never really noticed before in his shoulders and arms. They weren't as thick as Cassian’s but Nesta could tell the muscles were strong. A slight pink dusted on her cheeks as Azriel caught her stare but moved past her, heading to the tack room before returning.
“Who’s Baby Bat?” Nesta asked, pointing to the dog tag. Azriel stopped in his tracks. “A friend of the family.” His tone was melancholic. It seemed that he stared off in the distance, almost looking right through her. Nesta held her tongue, not wanting to take a deep dive today.
“Thank you for today, helping with Gwyn and all.” Nesta commented, changing the subject. At the drop of the ginger’s name, Azriel regained his focus at Nesta. “I should be thanking you actually. I worked with her when she came here last and I generally thought it was normal nerves, but something was off. And my mother raised me to be a respectful gentleman, so I didn’t push.”
“Weren’t you raised by Rhys’ mother?” Nesta asked. He shook his head. “A story for another time.” They stood in silence as they ventured off into awkward territory if neither of them spoke or did something.
“How long have you been into her? Gwyn I mean.”
Azriel startled. “When did I say I was into Gwyn?” “I may be a recovering alcoholic, but I know the laws of attraction, Azriel.” “It’s nothing.” Azriel grumbled.
“You have this look on your face when you’re with her, you know. Growing up I would hear it all of the time by my sister. The Artist’s Gaze.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “You could stare at a work of art for hours and never bore, never stray.” “I’m assuming Feyre was the one to say this, not Elain.” Azriel replied, leaning against one of the box stalls.
Nesta’s stomach twisted. “It was actually Elain. That’s how she would describe Feyre whenever I called home to check on them.” “How do you know, Elain?” She crossed her arms at the mention of her sister. Her words from their last phone call haunted her mind.
“It’s complicated.” Azriel said, dropping his gaze. “It always is with an Archeron.” Nesta mumbled before she looked at her phone, checking the time.
“I need to head out to AA or else I’ll be late, come on.”
**
Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos, @blueunoias, @velarisdusk, @c-e-d-dreamer, @jsmelodies, @inkedinshadows, @wolfnesta, @lilah-asteria, @highqueenmorrigan, @daughter-of-lethe
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minoouz · 15 hours
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 ─ L.H
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Lee Heeseung x male reader
Genre ─angst, fluff
Reader uses he/him.
Tw : mentions of beating, Heeseung involved in gang, mentions of bullying, kissing, mentions of hitting and cutting, name calling (sissy boy), some blood will be mentioned.
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"Hey, you guys wanna come over to my house tonight?" M/n asked, his eyes scanning over Sunoo and jay, "Yeah, maybe we should have a movie night and watch drama's and I even found this one-"
"Okay okay sunoo we get your obsession with dramas. I just hope you don't bring that mint chocolate ice cream like last time." Jay replied, looking the other boy up and down.
"How about you, m/n?" Sunoo asked, m/n tapped his chin and nodded his head. "Yeah, we should watch dramas, and this time I bring the snacks!" M/n replied to the two. The three boys continue walking until they bump into someone
"Oh gosh.." Jay groaned. He looked away from the people in front of them. "Heeseung, what are you even doing here?" Jay asked, his jaw clenching and his veins popping. "Look who it is, and I see you brought your little sissy boy's again?" Heeseung replied.
M/n looked him up in down in disgust, "Heeseung, please shut up before I clock you in your mouth.." "It's not like you're gonna do anything m/n, after all, you still didn't learn from that last beating." Heeseung said, pointing at the three boys with a grin on his face.
"You guys know what to do." Heeseung said, the four other boys behind him walk out, and they grab m/n and the other two. "You can't be doing this to us, Heeseung!" Jay shouted, trying to fight off away from the boy's tight grips. "What did I even do!?" Sunoo exclaimed. He kicks and squirms so the grip on his arms and legs can go loose.
Heeseung smirked as he cracked his knuckles, and his jaw clenched, "I'm just teaching you guys a lesson since you don't know how to learn." With a swift move, a punch could be seen going across m/n's face. Sunoo looked in shock, and he started panicking, Jay on the other side squirms around trying to fight off the men.
"F-fuck, what was that for..!!" M/n groaned in anger as blood dripped from out of his nose, in the alleyway Heeseung's pitiful words being spat at the three boy's could be heard.
"Guess there's one last detail to add." Heeseung smirked, he pulled out his pocket knife, and he lifted up m/n pants. "Now, where should I carve it?" He tapped his chin, then his eyes landed on M/n's thigh, Heeseung looked back up with a smirk and the pocket knife aims towards m/n's thigh.
"Don't do it..!!!" Sunoo shouted, Jay only sat and watched in shock and anger. "N-no.." Jay mumbled, he looked up at m/n and he spots the tears escaping from his eyes.
The loud screams of pain and agony filled the alleyway, Heeseung stepped back and started to admire his work. "You mind reading to me what that says m/n?" He asked, m/n sulked, and his lips quivered. "Y-you belong to me, from L-lee Heeseung.." he replied, more tears could be seen rolling down his face.
"Good..and let's keep it that way." Heeseung crouched in front of m/n, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at him. Heeseung then leaned in and planted his lips onto m/n's before pulling away with a chuckle.
"Don't tell anyone about this at all, or the next beating will be even worse." Heeseung pushed the boy back. He turned to Jay and sunoo before grinning, "Let these three go, I'll spare them for now." Heeseung said, making the four men drop sunoo Jay and m/n.
"Go on, shoo?" Heeseung said. The three boys took the opportunity to run home, and Heeseung stood there before waving. "Remember my words m/n, you belong to me."
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A/n : That's really it. It was gonna be short, but I had to make it long for you guys. I hope you enjoyed it!
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just you and i - riverdale core four (on yt here)
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yippee-optimistically · 2 months
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mods r asleep post humanized 4x
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finished catching up on tpot it was peakkkkkk but i am so scared of one. also working on little clay and felt dolls of 4 x and 2
#bfb#battle for bfdi#tpot#4x#bfb 4x#bfb fourx#four bfb#4 bfb#bfb 4#bfb four#guys do u put bfb before or after the character#x bfb#bfb x#four tpot#4 tpot#x tpot#four in tpot12 saying “nope .... see ya” was so high pitched and quiet WHAT was going on with him. the eye was so funny tho giggled#x with freckles bc of his interest in gardening. 4 with blue patches bc he was the desert and i want to note that#i love the designs i made for them theyre so cute 2 me#4s hair is so hard to draw tho. i cant make it look right#wait ive literally been thinking so much about character comparisons i have to mention it#4 is so obviously alien. he acts so super odd and he appears so unnerving. i feel like he always has wider eyes/smaller pupils#hes always so STARING at things. he is so obviously alien (bc he literally is in this world i think)#2 is also an alien. its in his name AlgebrALIEN. but he is so much more human im obsessed with him#like he laughs so much more he has much closer friendships with the contestants he even makes huge efforts to assist in fixing interpersona#problems and stuff. he is so kind and compassionate and can be super comforting. he is so incredibly human despite being an alien#THTA IS SOOO INTERESITNG AND FUN 2 ME !!!!!!!!!! 4 has loved bfdi and the idea of hosting for years and his goal is to Host but 2s is more#in line with making a point he is what he is bc he wants to be like that. hes a host bc he decided to be not bc someone else told him to#also the recent robot flower arc and the parallels im drawing between her and bot (iii).#bots “i will never be who you want me to be/who you built me as” vs robo flowers “i have to be who you want me to be/who you built me as”
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spac3trash · 2 months
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algebralien gijinkas!!
so I’ve been getting lots of love on my silly object show art on twitter so i wanted to try my hand at making some gijinkas :] these are the ones I’ve made so for and I hope to make more eventually,,,
bonus 4 in a skirt version under cut + some other doodles with 1 & 2 because I really want to see them interact…
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I personally think one and two were super close but eventually had a falling out… dramaticize it with my gijinkas more but… I hope we get to learn more about the tension between them…… :]
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front-facing-pokemon · 7 months
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