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separatist-apologist · 2 years ago

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Cowboy Like Me

Never thought I'd meet you here

Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.

Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute

Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss

Read on AO3

Nesta was in hell.

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six.

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty.

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle.

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle.

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown.

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”

His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied.

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.

“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them.

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb.

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care.

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her?

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego.

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t.

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”

Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”

A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope.

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”

“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”

Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”

“Does it?”

“My good looks get me laid, darlin’. My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”

“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window.

His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody.

And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.

This wasn’t a date.

Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.

“Will he?”

Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.

“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”

“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”

“Like you, then?”

Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.

Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again.

“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”

“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.

“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”

“Terribly deficient.”

“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”

“Okay.”

Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap.

Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.

Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.

“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.

“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”

He ducked his head. “Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”

Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone.

“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted.

“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”

Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”

Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”

They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.

“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.

“No eating out?”

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”

She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”

“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”

“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.

“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta.”

“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”

She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”

Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air.

“Stop it, stop—”

“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”

“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”

“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”

He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”

“Maybe you were waiting on me.”

“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did.

He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”

Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.

“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon.

“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly.

“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”

Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”

“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.

Into his lips.

“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”

“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention.

Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle.

“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware.

“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.

“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.

“I can do it myself.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses.

Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.” Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”

Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”

He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started.

“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again.

It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.

“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.

Something fragile.

And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”

Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”

Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know.

“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”

“Your horse?”

“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.

“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”

“This is your room, Cassian.”

She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—

“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.

Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”

“That sounds good, Cassian.”

It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”

Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.

“Is it safe for me alone in there?”

The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”

“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged.

“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”

“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”

“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs.

“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.

That wouldn’t do.

“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn’t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.

But god she wanted to try.

He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life.

“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.

Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control?

“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.

“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”

“Nes—”

Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair.

Yes.

This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort.

Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.

“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

Finally.

“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.

Powerful.

“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.

“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”

“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her.

In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.

He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.

“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper

Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.

“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding.

His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.

“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”

“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.

She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.

Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.

“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace.

“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”

If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.

He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure.

Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing.

She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.

For fucking ever.

Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal.

Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.

“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”

“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.

“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck.

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.

He was sweet, she decided.

She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”

“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”

“Once, at least.”

“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”

He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.

“Good?”

“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”

Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.

“Yes—yes, Cassian—”

He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body.

He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again.

And again.

Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant.

“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct.

Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”

“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”

Cassian grinned. “I promise.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #bryaxis #i mean bryaxis IS a horse but still #a good boy #montana!cassian #dustjacket you better LOVE this

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sso-montana · 28 days ago

Text

Music

Word Count: 3.5k Rating: General/Teenager Warnings: mentions of eating people, mentions of vampire behavior, talk about suicidal ideas, one dirty joke at the end, this is mostly hurt and comfort, and fluff and a lil angst Songs Used: Make You Mine by Public, Back in My Arms by Carlie Hanson

First prompt of the month! idk how long I will be able to keep up with the prompts ANYWAY this is set along the other Music prompts by @dark-rider-pr and @corneliafogwell

bone apple teeth

Florence grinned and moved past Justin, pulling out her iPod from her front pocket.

“Got the correct cables?” she asked, making her way over to the sound system. “I think we could do with a little fun.”

“Yes and yes,” Justin agreed, pulling out the necessary cables. “Besides, it’ll piss off granddad.”

The reincarnate raised an eyebrow at the familiarity between Sands and Justin before plugging in her favorite device in the world. Justin made sure everything was hooked up and ready and then, Florence pressed shuffle.

For the first time in six months, music filled the air at the Valley Community.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

Luckily for Montana the crowd in the Valley Community had put all their focus on Florence and the Soul Riders, allowing her to steer Onyx away from all the people. Her heart was racing as the thought of 'get away from the people' kept repeating in her head over and over, the biting cold of the area barely registering to her. There were a few confused glances her way which she couldn’t blame the people for, she was only wearing a tank top and scarf while being out in a land of eternal winter. Still, no one questioned her presence, simply moving out the way once they saw a shire trotting their way. Maybe there were people in the crowd she knew. Maybe somewhere amongst them were Maya or Thomas or Tan.

She couldn’t face them. Not after everything she’d done.

“Guys, leave them the fuck alone,” Justin. Hearing his voice over the speakers made her heart flutter before it immediately dropped into her stomach.

God, what would he think of her?

She barely registered as Onyx started to canter, the crowd no longer as dense as it had been before.

Only once they had reached a place away from all the people, the heartbeats, the blood, did the girl bring her horse to a stop and get off his back. There was a worried whine and the sound of hooves following her as she headed for the treeline. She needed to think. Needed to come up with a plan to get out of here. Get away before she hurt the only ones she still had left.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

Montana was cold. She was so, so fucking cold. The blanket that she used to sleep under didn’t help a single bit against the freezing winds of Dinosaur Valley. In an attempt to distract herself from the goosebumps all over her body (which reminded her a bit too much of when her magic had been sealed away) she strained her ears to listen to the faint sounds of music coming from the center of the community.

She was cuddled up against Onyx, both of them sitting beneath a frost covered tree while she moved her head along to the beat of “Make You Mine” by PUBLIC.

"Well, I will call you darlin' and everything will be okay

'Cause I know that I am yours and you are mine"

Honestly, what was she even doing? Just a couple minutes ago her and Onyx had been walking along what once had been the Red String Trail in Firgrove when all of a sudden a portal opened beneath them. There hadn’t even been time to react in any sort of way before she had found herself in the middle of the Valley Community alongside the Dark Riders and Soul Riders.

'Seriously, how the hell did that happen? Portals don’t just open up beneath people.'

Something or someone had to open it directly beneath them to ensure both her and Onyx fully made it through. This implied someone had been tracking her, if not downright stalking her.

On top of that she arrived alongside the others which meant her destination wasn’t random. That someone or something wanted her here.

It couldn’t have been Anne. For as much as the situation had confused her, the former blacksmith apprentice knew for a fact the portal had been blue. So none of the Soul RIders or druids were to blame for this.

It had to have been a witch. And that still didn’t answer the big question as to why this was going on.

With a frustrated groan she rubbed her face before dropping her head in her hands.

“What in the actual fuck is going on?”

There was no response from Onyx. Of course there wasn’t. Just the sound of faint music and howling winds.

“Put your hand in mine

You know that I want to be with you all the time

You know that I won’t stop until I make you mine”

The ever growing sound of snow crunching beneath boots tuned out the music in the distance.

Wait.

Scrambling to her feet Montana turned in the direction of the footsteps, the blanket falling from her shoulders and hand hovering over the knife strapped to her thigh. Months of living in the wilderness kicked in, her heart racing as she was ready to fight whatever came near her when-

“Montana?”

Right then, on the outskirts of the Valley Community, with freezing winds biting at her skin and adrenaline pumping through her veins, the world seem to stop.

“Justin?”

She let her shoulders sag, hands falling against her sides as she got a good look at him. How long had it been since she’d last seen him? How many months? Keeping track of time had become somewhat irrelevant while traveling so she genuinely couldn’t tell.

It was hard to tell if her heart was racing or about to stop. The overwhelming joy of finally seeing him again conflicted with the thoughts of he 'doesn’t know you’re dangerous, you have to get away before you hurt him' rendered her unable to move as he rushed towards her.

Even with her best efforts she couldn’t react, couldn’t move or speak. Countless nights had been spent on imagining how- if- they met again and now that Justin was standing right in front of her she couldn’t do shit.

“Oh god, come here, you must be freezing.” Worry and relief were written all over his face as he pulled off the G.E.D coat he was wearing and started wrapping it around her shoulders.

Montana could feel his breath against her face as he pulled the coat around her shoulders, eyes flickering to different spots across his face all the while avoiding directly looking into his eyes. Her hands automatically grabbed onto the fabric and her fingers brushed against his in the process. The warmth radiating from them managed to get something in her brain to finally start working again as her voice, raw with emotions and so, so small filled the space between them: “Justin- no, don't- stay- stay away-”

“You're alive.” The words seemingly didn’t even register in his brain as arms, warm and strong and familiar wrapped around her, pressing their bodies close against one another. Her hands were squished between them and she could feel him rest his head atop hers.

She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve a welcome back or hug and certainly not Justin’s kindness. Not with the things she’d done. The things he didn’t know about. The things she had to tell him, otherwise how could she ever look him in the eyes again?

“Justin, please let go.” Why did she have to sound so damn weak? For the past god-knows-how-long she had had a great run of keeping her tough guy image up. And now Justin was ruining it.

“No fucking way. I'm not letting you leave again.” His arms squeezed her even tighter, pulling them impossibly closer. Usually she’d find it to be sweet, adorable even. Now it only added onto her anxiety, the panic flowing through her veins of 'what if you lose control, what if you bite him, what if '

“Please.” The whisper was desperate. Pleading. The fears were irrational, she knew that. She had fed recently and her bag had enough meat to help subdue the hunger for a good while. Not once since keeping this routine up had she lost control.

The only time (aside from her first victim) she had lost it was when she had deliberately tried to starve herself to death. Since then the former blacksmith apprentice had learned her lesson.

But her brain wasn’t thinking right. The fear of accidentally hurting Justin, one of the last people she had left in this shitshow of a world, was much louder than the logical part of her brain. “I'm dangerous-”

“You know what Sabine said isn't-”

“This isn't about that!”

Finally regaining the ability to move she put one of her hands up to his chest and pushed him away. Not hard enough to make him stumble or fall, just enough to put some distance between them. Turning her face towards anything but Justin she pulled the coat tighter around her shoulders. It was at least somewhat comforting to have something to physically hold on to. Letting out a shaky breath she turned her head back towards his direction, still unable to look him directly in the face.

Never. Not a single time had she admitted it out loud what she had become. It was enough to know it, wasn’t it? Why should she say it out loud? To make it feel more real? The fangs she had retracted as soon as she had appeared in the Valley and the hunger for blood were more than real enough.

“I'm a vampire. And yes, I know it sounds ridiculous but it's true! I got turned into a vampire.” There. She had said it. Now he knew. The vomit of words that followed weren’t planned. It didn’t really matter if Justin knew those parts. But something inside her needed those things to be said out loud as well. To have them off her chest. “I've killed people to eat them and I tried to starve myself to death, trust me I really did, but there is this primal hunger or survival instinct or whatever the fuck it is and it wants me to survive and I really should leave-”

“No.” It was firm, louder than her own voice and very effective in making Montana stop her little rant. Hands gripped her shoulders, warm and steady. When she finally looked up she was met with a soft yet determined gaze, her shoulders dropping just the slightest bit as he talked: “No. You just got back. I'm not letting you leave.”

“Justin-”

“We'll figure something out. We always do.” The grip on her shoulders tightened, the determination in his eyes only growing more prominent. It made her want to hope. His tone, his voice, the look in his eyes. Just being with him. She wanted to hope they could figure something out. To have even an ounce of the optimism he always possessed no matter the situation.

But she knew it was no use. As if she hadn’t already tried every single thing she could think of to find a way out, to find some substituted or cure or anything to help her out of this fucking mess.

Shaking her head Montana dropped her gaze back to the snow on the ground beneath them. Her voice turned bitter as she spoke again: “Meat can work as a supplement but there's no way around the blood part-”

“Then you can have some of mine.” Looking up and seeing Justin’s completely unbothered face, as if he hadn’t just suggested she feed off of him, baffled her more than the fact he had said it in the first place. “Sharing is caring, right?”

It took her a few seconds to react, mouth open in disbelief and feeling as if her eyes were going to fall out of her head.

“Are you insane?!” She was dating an idiot. A moron. Maybe she was a lunatic but Justin was an airhead.

“Maybe!” He threw his hands up in the air before ever so gently cupping her face. “But if there's any way I can help you I'll take it.”

'Unbelievable'

If she hadn’t been holding on to that damn coat of his she’d grab onto his wrists. Instead she only shook her head again, brows furrowing as her voice took on that desperate tone once more.

“Did you even listen to anything I've said?”

“Yes and I don't care about any of it. Save for the you're alive part.” How could someone be so stupid? So nonchalant about something so serious?

“I've done horrible things.”

“I don't care.”

“Justin, I'm a monster. I'm not human anymore.”

“I don't care.”

“Did you hear me when I said that I've eaten people-”

“I don't care.”

“You can't just keep saying you don't care!” Oh, she wanted to strangle him so badly. “You should care! You should stay away from me!” Maybe she didn’t have much any care for her own well being, but Justin was different. He was supposed to be the responsible one out of the two of them. The one who cares about his own safety and has morals and good intentions.

She had to do something, anything, that would get him to understand that she was dangerous, that he had to let her go again. That it would be better for her to never get close to anyone she cared about ever again-

“Oh, Sparks.” After all the months of separation hearing the nickname he had given her almost made her tear up. The endless barrage of thoughts stopped. One of his hands moved to the back of her head while the other wrapped around her back. She didn’t resist when he pulled her into a hug, his cheek pressed against the side of her head as he continued talking: “I don’t care and I certainly won’t stay away from you.”

With a defeated sigh Montana buried her face in his shoulder, pressing herself closer against him as her fingers dug even deeper into the coat.

Maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself this. After all she had wanted nothing more than this for the past few months. She had missed Justin. Missed his voice and face and stupid jokes and how he, unlike her, somehow always knew what to say.

“You're still you, are you not?” Oh, how terrified she had been to forget what he sounded like, to not be able to remember his laughter and giggles and even scolding. To not be able to hear them again before she died.

“I… I guess? But the things I've done-”

“Don't matter to me.” Moving her head just enough so she was able to look at his face Montana wanted to sob as his lips pressed against her forehead. The kiss was soft and warm and gentle. Like it had always been. Like him. “There's a zombie virus going around, we're living in the apocalypse for Aideen's sake, so many people have died. I couldn't care less if you're a human or vampire or werewolf you're alive.”

“Alive and severely fucked up.”

“And it's a loveable fucked up, at least to me.” Letting out an amused huff she pressed a kiss against his stubbled jaw before burying her face back in his shoulder. The hand on her head moved as Justin started running his fingers through her hair, the motion second nature from how often he had done it before. Even with her curls cut short and all the color having faded, leaving nothing but natural black and bleached ends, it was nice. Comforting. A familiarity and security behind it that she had craved so bad while she was all alone. “I missed you. I missed you so, so much, Sparks."

“I missed you, too.”

The arm wrapped around her waist pulled her impossibly closer, another kiss pressed against the crown of her head. An all too familiar stubbled cheek settling back on top of her head.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? I didn't know where you were, if you were alive or dead or a zombie.”

“I’m sorry.” And she meant it. Knowing him he must’ve been worried sick.

“You better be, I'm pretty sure you gave me my first gray hair.” This time Montana actually laughed. As the weight of his head lifted from hers and Justin pulled back slightly the former blacksmith apprentice already had a complaint on the tip of her tongue.

Though, she didn’t even get a chance of voicing said complaint out loud as soft lips pressed against hers and-

Gods. She really had missed him. Closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss Montana could feel his hands cupping her face once more, melting into the touch.

As they parted Justin pressed his forehead against hers, their shared breaths creating small clouds around them.

“We really should get you some new clothes.”

Fidgeting with the hem of the coat she was still holding onto the girl bit her lip. They eventually had to go back, she knew that. Get back to all the chaos and confusion and people.

“Can we… can we stay here a bit longer? There's so many people and after being a hermit for the last few months it's- a lot.” 'Let us pretend a little longer. Please.'

How Justin’s expression could still look softer than it usually did was something that managed to amazed her to this day. A gentle kiss was pressed against the tip of her nose which, along with her cheeks, had turned pink from the cold. The smile spreading across her lips matched his.

“Okay, not too long though. You’re already shaking and I don’t want you getting sick.” There was a pause, then: “Can you still get sick?”

Shrugging, Montana reached for his hand and pulled him towards where Onyx was still laying in the snow, fluffy ears perking up as he saw them walking towards him. As if he hadn’t been watching (and probably judging) them the entire time.

“No fucking clue. Maybe Florence knows more.” She was already sitting down in the snow, leaning against Onyx and patting the space on her right while her boyfriend simply decided to look at her dumbfounded. With an eye roll she pulled at his hand with just enough force to get him to sit down, her voice dipping into the tone that was usually reserved for talking with the youngest of the camp kids as she explained: “She’s the one who turned me. She’s also a vampire.”

For a few seconds there came no response, just the mechanical motion of him taking the edge of the coat Montana held out and wrapping it around the both of them. Her blanket was already snow covered from having been left on the ground so that wasn’t an option.

Once they were bundled up, or at least as best as they could, the former blacksmith apprentice snuggled against him, a contempt sigh leaving her lips as his free hand settled on top of her waist.

“Anyone else I should know about?” His hand was rubbing up and down her side, most likely in an attempt to help her warm up. Smiling she closed her eyes, relishing in the normalcy of it all (save for the freezing winds around them which she very much tried to ignore).

What exactly had she done to deserve someone like him?

“That bird girl- Cornelia? Don’t know if there are more though.”

The hand movement stopped, a soft grumble that very much sounded like “I thought I was making a joke.” causing her to snicker.

There was a surprised shout from which Montana could already guess that Onyx had seen and taken the opportunity to chew on Justins hair.

“Yeah, I missed you, too, buddy. I missed you, too! Now stop it!”

Her laughing was accompanied by a happy neigh from Onyx, overshadowing the music in the distance. If not, perhaps they would’ve been able to hear the chorus of ‘Back in My Arms’ from Carlie Hanson playing.

“We go back to the start when you're back in my arms

Like back when we were laying on your floor

Hoping no one opens up the door”

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

With the last rays of sunset they decided it was time to start heading back towards the community. Onyx was on her right, Justin to her left. Like they were trying to shield her from seeing the amount of people once they would arrive at the more crowded spaces. As if they wanted to help keep her calm.

Heh, a whole apocalypse and vampire-fication later and her boys were still looking out for her. Some things really didn’t seem to change.

“So… a vampire?”

Groaning Montana crossed her arms, the sleeves of the much too big coat dangling in the air. She had, after much back and forth between them, begrudgingly put it on since Justin kept insisting his hoodie was still keeping him much warmer than her tank top would her (he was right, of course. That didn’t mean she liked it).

“It still sounds stupid.”

“I think it’s ironic.” The wicked grin on his face almost made her regret raising her eyebrow in question. As her boyfriend wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer against him and put his face next to hers, as if no one else was supposed to hear what he was about to say, her suspicions only grew. “You do hate sucking.”

“JUSTIN MOORLAND!”

#ssoblr #sso #sso oc #star stable online #riders of fallen dawn #rofd #riders-of-fallen-dawn #ssozombies2024 #montana opalheart #justin moorland #dewblossom #my writing #IT'S STILL THE FIRST HERE IN GERMANY SO I'M ON TIME #oh boy did this get out of hand #'I want to keep it short' my ass #WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS LONGER THAN THE ONE WHERE MO TURNS INTO A VAMPIRE

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