#stren | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherubfae · 3 months

Text

how they cuddle || slashers x reader

With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Thomas Sawyer

tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao

Michael

Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.

Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.

The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.

Jason

Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.

His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.

Brahms

If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!

After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3

Billy and Stu

The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.

Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.

Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.

Art

This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.

He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.

Vincent

He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.

Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.

His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?

Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.

He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.

Lester

Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.

Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.

Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.

Sal Fisher

Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.

Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.

Thomas

It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.

Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.

You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)

Patrick

He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.

#slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x you #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #thomas sawyer x reader #art the clown x reader #cherubfae 2024

883 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months

Text

Heatwave

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You get heatstroke while out with your brothers on a case, and they take care of you.

“Stay in the car,” Dean said as he stepped out of the Impala.

“But it’s hot in here,” you whined as the car turned off and the leather seats started to bake.

“We won’t be long,” Sam assured you. “But you’re a little young to pass for an agent, so stay.”

You wanted to listen, you really did. But the longer you stayed in the car, the more it began to feel like you were just in a giant oven, being slowly cooked for some sadistic witch to eat. Where were your brothers? It had been over an hour. Whatever the witness had to say, it must’ve been pretty interesting.

Your lips felt dry, and your head was starting to pound. Once you couldn’t take it anymore, you unbuckled your seatbelt—burning your hand on the metal clasp as you did—and stepped out of the car to track down your brothers.

…

Sam turned his head when he felt a tug on his jacket to see you standing at his elbow, your face bright red.

“Sammy, I’m hot,” you mumbled, swaying slightly on your feet.

“Sorry about that,” the woman they were interviewing spoke up. “The air conditioner’s broken.” She was looking curiously at you, like she didn’t know why you were there, but she opted to ignore it.

“How about you go outside,” Sam said under his breath to you.

“It’s even hotter out there,” you argued, wiping sweat off of your forehead.

“There was a breeze out there earlier, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dean said. You could tell your brothers were starting to become impatient; they were anxious to continue questioning the witness.

“Fine,” you sighed, shuffling out the door and down the porch steps.

“Seems a bit young for an agent?” The witness questioned finally.

“It’s—uh—take your daughter to work day,” Dean chuckled nervously. “Now, we just had a couple more questions for you.”

…

You wandered around for a couple of minutes in the woman’s yard, but when your headache worsened and your stomach began to ache, you opted to sit on the curb. The ground was hot, but the heat on your legs was still better than standing, especially when your vision started to spin. The dark gravel seemed to move in front of you, which wasn’t helping the nausea building up inside you. You played with the idea of going to get your brothers again, but ultimately decided there was no point. They would interview the witness until they had what they needed, and your nagging wasn’t going to make it any faster. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure you could stand now without falling over, as you still couldn’t see straight.

The air was beginning to feel like a weighted blanket above you, pushing down on your shoulders and face until it felt like you were almost choking on the humidity. As pain pounded behind your eyes, you felt and heard your breathing start to labor.

Confusion clouded your mind. Were you sick? What was happening to you? Where were Sam and Dean?

As though the very thought of them was a summoner, a hand on your shoulder had you turning your head to see Dean, concern etched on his face. His voice sounded distorted, like he was talking from behind a glass wall.

“You ok, kid?”

Sam’s hands on your face had your head turning the other direction.

“Hey, just try to breathe, ok?” Sam’s eyes turned to Dean. “She’s really hot, she might be dehydrated.”

“Ok, let’s get you to some air conditioning,” Dean said, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you to your feet. “Whoa.” Dean tried to steady you as you wobbled in your legs.

“Hey, look at me.” Now Sam sounded like he was talking under water. You tried to focus in on his eyes, but your vision was too clouded. You could see the light tan of his skin, and the dark brown of his hair, but even that was becoming obscure as black spots darted in front of you.

“S’my…” your voice came out muffled, as you couldn’t seem to find the energy to open your mouth all the way. All the strength was seeping out of you one muscle at a time, until Dean felt all of your weight collapse in his arms.

“Hey, hey!” Sam slapped at your face as Dean lifted you into his arms, pulling you away from Sam and hurrying you towards the Impala.

The brothers reached the car simultaneously, and Dean laid you carefully in the back while Sam started the car and got the air on blast.

“Should we take her to a hospital?” Sam asked as he got in the passenger seat. Dean started down the road, already shaking his head.

“No. This town is too small, we can’t start drawing attention to ourselves with these bodies dropping, there would be too many questions we can’t answer.”

“But Dean—“

“Look, she’s either dehydrated, or it’s heatstroke. Either way, we’re gonna get her to the hotel, get her in a cold bath, and get her some water. If she doesn’t wake up soon, then we can talk about a hospital, ok?”

Sam didn’t argue, and within twenty minutes you were awake and alert in an ice bath.

“What—where—“

“Hey, easy kid,” Dean soothed, bringing his hands to your shoulders. “Don’t get up, just rest for a second.”

“It’s definitely heatstroke,” Sam called from the other room where he was hunched over his computer. “Just keep her in there until her body temperature goes down. She should drink water, too.”

Dean took all this information in while pressing a hand to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature.

“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“Cold.” You shivered.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than the alternative.” Dean sighed, relief coloring his features. “You really freaked us out there, kid.”

You shifted guiltily, staring at your lap.

“I tried to tell you,” you mumbled shyly. Dean cringed.

“Yeah, yeah you did.” Dean grabbed onto your hands, letting the cold water cover both of your hands. You looked up at him. “I’m sorry, you’re right. This wasn’t your fault, ok? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, and Dean sighed again.

“No it’s not,” he said, more to himself than to you. “C’mon,” he directed at you. “Let’s get you out of there.”

…

Within ten minutes you were in dry clothes with about seven water bottles strewn around you.

“I can’t drink all of these,” you protested as Sam handed you yet another one.

“Sure you can,” Dean insisted, the ghost of a smirk haunting his twitching features. “Now go on.”

“Dean.” You huffed.

“Hey,” Sam interrupted. “Heatstroke is serious, ok? You gotta drink some water.”

“Ok, ok, but that doesn’t mean I have to start a drought,” you said, taking a handful of bottles and putting them on the desk next to you. “Now how long are you gonna make me stay in this bed?” Even as you asked, you yawned and made yourself comfortable.

Sam grinned. “You’ve gotta get a lot of rest for the next couple of days, but I’m serious, this was not good. We’ll have to make sure you’re not overheated, and you’re drinking enough water, for a few weeks at least.”

You sobered a little at your brother’s words.

“Weeks? It’s that bad?”

You regretted your question, because you now could see the way your brothers were kicking themselves about what happened.

“Yeah, it’s that bad,” Sam sighed.

“Hey,” you spoke up again. “It’s ok, alright? You guys were busy, and—“

“No,” Dean interrupted, his eyes hard. “No. A hunt should never be more important than you, ever. I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

“Okay,” you said. “I believe you, and I forgive you.” You remained stoic for a few seconds before your lips twitched into a smile. “And I’ll hold you to that.”

Dean chuckled softly, reassured.

“Please do.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

#dean winchester #dean and sam #the winchesters #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester

424 notes · View notes

whatthefishh · 11 months

Note

I’m so ashamed to be requesting this… but I’ve been looking everywhere for a shower smut with Miguel O’Hara and I feel like I can trust you not to let me down😩😩😭 if you can, ONLY if you can I don’t wanna be a bother.

Hey, no need to be ashamed haha! That’s so sweet of you, thank you for trusting me with this 😉 and I hope this short blurb doesn’t let you down… I wrote this instead of focusing on my assignment lol!

Miguel smut under the cut, 18+ only

Your muscles were aching, the hot water spraying down your back helping to release some of the tension there. You had a long day and couldn’t wait to get home for some down time, and a hot shower was the perfect start to your relaxing evening. You hear the bathroom door open and the blurry large shadow of Miguel in the doorway. You know it’s him just by his sheer size, nobody else you knew took up that much space.

“Mig, can you grab me a towel? I forgot!” You shout, turning to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.

“You always forget,” he grumbles lowly, thinking you can’t hear him but he’s closer now.

“Yeah, I know I know, can you just get me— no, no! You can’t just—!”

It was too late. Miguel had stripped his clothes in record time — or maybe he walked into the bathroom already naked — and joined you in the shower, his height effectively blocking the water from spraying on you as his broad frame took up most of the shower space.

“You got me all wet, nena,” he says looking down at you, slowly backing you against the tile wall behind you.

“I didn’t tell you to come inside…”

He sniffs out a laugh.

“Actually—“

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

Reaching a hand up to pull him by the neck down, down, down to meet your lips, your tongues collide hotly under the spray of hot water. Pretty soon, you’re a moaning mess under his skillful tongue and roaming hands, lost in the sensation of your lover’s touch.

Miguel lifts you against the tiles and you gasp into his mouth at the cool wall against your back while he groans at the feeling of his hard cock bobbing against your core. He’s rubbing himself against you, effectively making you drip for him while the water ran down his back.

Both of you were wet now.

Removing himself from your lips for a moment, he rests his forehead against yours to look into your eyes and smile, a rare one, a real one. You don’t see this one often.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tan buena que eres conmigo,” Mig tells you quietly before lining up his fat tip with your entrance and slowly pushing forward, kissing you again when you start moaning at the intrusion.

It’s always a stretch, no matter how much he tries to prep you. Inch by thick inch, he bullies his way into your cunt, massaging your breasts and mouthing at them to distract you. The sound when his lips wrap around your slippery skin is sinful, popping off your peaks with a satisfied hum while your chest heaves from everything you’re feeling.

He’s everywhere, around you and inside you all at once. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Once he bottoms out, he waits for your go ahead, a small nod while you rest your head against the cool tiles has him starting to pull out nefariously slow, intent on making you loose and pliant by the end of the session. Bucking his hips, he fills you again and again, pressing your body into the shower wall and grunting on every pass.

The water was already hot and the way he’s fucking you has you burning up, the coil tightening in your belly so much that you’re about to pass out. He notices your breath coming out shallower.

“Needed me to loosen you up, isn’t that right nena? Uh huh?”

You’re whining incoherently, eyes shut against the tiles as he plows into your pussy. You try to answer him but all that comes out are pathetic noises that you know only feed his ego.

“What was that, baby? You’re close, aren’t you, can feel you— ahhhhh!” He groans out loud when you finally gush around his girth, body shuddering in his arms.

Completely reliant on his strength to hold you up — the way you’re impaled on him also helping — you let go. Utterly and entirely, you let yourself go in his arms, trusting him to take care of you.

Gripping your ass as he holds you up, Miguel continues to fuck into your fluttering hole, bucking his hips untimely as he nears his own end after feeling yours. His growls and grunts are bordering on animalistic, the smooth golden planes of his body catching your eyes as you ride out his assault on your pussy. The way his biceps ripple when he flexes his hands holding you up, the way the vein in his neck throbs when he’s breathing heavily, the way his abs flutter when he’s close to cumming —

He’s absolutely stunning, and he’s all yours.

And he’s making you his, coming inside you and pressing his hips into yours, after essentially drilling you into the shower wall, he holds you there while groaning through his release.

The stress you were carrying was all gone, replaced with everything Miguel. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your evening with him.

S/o to my translator — @xbellaxcarolinax ❤️

#inbox 💌#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv smut #atsv fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

oldsardens · 2 months

Text

Maurits Cornelis Escher - Fire (Eugene & Willy Strens Felicitas)

#Maurits Cornelis Escher

262 notes · View notes

lizsos · 21 days

Text

- ☆I can take it! ☆

• Summary: you tell Bada , you can take it .

• Genre : Smut

- warnings : Dom!Bada x Sub!Reader,pet names,fingiring,multiple orgasms,overestimation,ass slapping.

"Come on love , just one more" Bada coaxes you , stren grip on your ass you can't even recall how many times you've came ; orgasm washing upon you so fast and immediately pushed to run the next one .

You're hearning her repeat the same exact words over and over to you, promising you it'll be the last one , but the way her fingers pump out of your wet and overly messy cunt from behind says otherwise . Burying your head into the sheets, your hips jerk shakily, ass jiggling as you feel her fingers never leaving your pussy , only sliding out to push your cum back in .

"Bada- please! nngh , can't take no m-more" you beg , voice muffled into the sheets. Its all hazy for you , you feel like you're floating; eyes rolling back so often you lost control over your senses . But you promised her you could take more . You were always sensitive, ending up tired at just one orgams , so your ever so sweet girlfriend never went over your low limit .

She was gentle with you each time you had sex , fucking into you so slowly till you came once . You'd pestered her , telling her so pleasingly that you could do it more than just once , and to just let you have a chance.

"You sure pretty? Think you can do it more than just once?" She questions you, hands rubbing the side of your hips soothingly.

"I swear I can ! l 'll do it as many times as you want " you reassure her with a confidant voice.

And now , here you were , with your ass covered in lots of sticky white and tears streaming down your face , trapped in the bed sheets , Bada's eye's are completely focused on how your cunt engulfes her fingers covering them in a pretty mess . She chuckes at the sniffes you make as she gradually slows down, giving you a chance to regain your composure .

"You can do it pretty c'mon "she says , leaning over behind to kiss your cheek . She's back to her original pace . Wet squelching noises fogging up your mind again . Placing you in pure bliss again. You whimper as you left your head from the sheets , mounting yourself on your elbows as your mouth hungs open, eyes dazed and rolling back once again . Bada speards one of your cheeks with her other hand , watching cum drip out of your swollen folds till she's spreading it all over again.

Her fingers are deep, so so deep , its having your thighs shake uncontrollably she only slaps your ass so lightly to make sure you stay still , because she's fixed on your little promise , because once again they're your words not hers.

Youre almost there , she can sense it , the way you tighten around her three fingers deep inside you. You chatter and shout ; her fingers moving quicker and quicker inside you , your walls craving realese. "Fuckfuck,gonna c-cum , please" you cry out loudly as you squirt all over her fingers . It all rushes past in a instant , your eyes wide and red from tears , the lower part of your body a sticky wet disaster . As you collapse back onto the sheets .

Bada thinks she hasn't witnessed anything more beautiful , you squirted . She looks at you , embracing your exhausted body as she plants a kiss on your cheek .

"You just squirted , baby" she explains playfully , poking your cheek . You grin at her , surprised by your own abilities.

"I never thought I could do that" you mumble sleepily , nuzzling into her shoulder.

She simply looks at you with desperation for a moment, "well,, you did love," she says as you turn to look back at her, anticipation in your eyes .

"Think you can do it again?"

#swf2 #bada lee #swf2 x reader #bada imagine #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #street woman fighter 2 #bebe #team bebe #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 smut

167 notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 11 months

Text

Scragglmop the Destroyer

Once feared throughout the land, a great and terrible dragon grew tired of being endlessly hunted for his hoard and faked his death with the aid of a glory-hungry gnomish bard. Living on for centuries in the guise of a street cat, the dragon is now a hair's breadth from resuming his rampaging ways after the bard's descendants have lost the fortune he gave over to them for safe keeping.

Adventure Hooks:

A series of unexplained fires has wracked the city in recent weeks, which has both the guard and the populace on edge. Rumours swirl blaming arsonists, saboteurs from a rival kingdom, even an illegal duelling society of mages, but none have yet put it together that all of the workshops and businesses were all patronized in one way or another by the famed Candlebright noble family.

Coincidentally, Hignatta Candlebright, young head of that same noble house has sent an invitation to the party to join her at a famed teahouse to discuss a delicate matter involving the retrieval of stolen property. Hignatta has all but taken over the teahouse and its guestrooms since her own family home burned down near the start of the panic, and the party might begin to draw a connection when half way through their meeting the teahouse begins to fill with smoke, panicking patrons, and a booming, sourceless voice that demands "WHERE IS MY GOLD, CANDLEBRIGHT?!"

If you really want to mess with the party, consider introducing them to the fluffy street cat completely independently of the arson plot, making a nuisance of himself in the market while they're trying to shop, or catching mice in their store-room should they have acquired a residence in town. Have them befriend the cat as they might any bad-tempered stray, only to realize after the adventure is half way through that the mice he catches are always somewhat charred. Also imagine the looks on their faces the moment the party's home is broken into by an enemy and their housecat incinnerates a wave of intruders for disturbing his nap.

Background: Everyone knows the story about how the legendary hero Gailen Candlebright saved the realm from the tyrannical dragon Slaggrath, a beast known to devour whole armies and raze kingdoms in search of treasure. It's the ubiquitous tale against which all adventurers are measured against, made all the more ubiquitous thanks to the fact that the deed is memorialized in drinking ballads, children rhymes, and even a few folk operas. Gailen was a troubadour of not insignificant skill before he became a legend, and he had little trouble using that skill and hardwon fame to ensure his deeds would never be forgotten.

As with many tales told by the bards, Gailen left out quite a bit of the truth when concocting his tale: It was a late night in a roadside tavern and the young Candlebright was approached by a sourfaced man with a tangled beard and clothes that might have once been quite fine. Gailen had sung for his supper and then some, his hat was overflowing with tips from a long night's work and a greatful crowd, and the old man wanted to know how it was exactly that the Gnome hadn't yet been robbed; The roads were full of all sorts of rough types who thought that their strength entitled them to others' wealth, bandits yes but worse yet kingsmen, who took what they wanted sure that that they were above any kind punishment.

Seeing that the old man had fallen on rough times, likely having been robbed himself, Gailen spoke from the heart: He'd been robbed a few times yes, but he got by looking like someone that no one would bother to steal from, dressing in his fine clothes only on days he'd perform, and keeping most of his riches in the safe keeping of others, such as the caravan masters he frequently traveled along with.

The old man considered Gailen's words and the two sat up drinking through the night debating the merits of the Troubador's duplicity. Was it not better, asked the old man, to defend what was yours with strength and reputation, That everyone might learn from the failure of those that had trifled with you before?

Gailen looked at the many scars the old man bore and countered that fools never learned their lesson, they just thought themselves better than the last fool who risked it and they'd keep risking it till luck won out or they went to join all the fools that had come before.

It was dawn when the two parted ways, Gailen tottering off to bed thinking he'd given council to a reformed bandit chief, the old man slipping out of the inn and taking to wing thinking he'd concocted a brilliant scheme with the help of his newest, and perhaps first, friend.

i was a week (and one pants-shitting revelation over the old man's true draconic nature) later that the legend of Slaggrath came to an end: Gailen walking into that very same tavern bloodied, burnt, and with the broken off horn of the great wyrm held above his head as a trophy. The news spread like wildfire, the name Candlebright ascended to the shortlist of the realm's great champions, and not a soul questioned when the newly knighted Gailen comissioned the construction of an elaborate series of vaults beneith the castle he'd just been awarded. The bard had everything he wanted, and in return he and his family would hold the dragon's horde in trust, not touching a single copper and adding a little to it each year out of respect for the wyrm's generosity.

Future Adventures:

Even before he charmed his way into unexpected riches, Gailen was an ardent follower of Garl Glittergold, god of ambition, wit, and wariness. Genresavvy bard that he was, he understood that this fabulous windfall wasn't just some gift from his god, it was a test, and that to keep his good fortune going he'd best abide by the exact deal he'd struck in that tavern. Gailen kept Slaggrath's treasure under lock and key all his life and made sure his children did the same despite never telling them where he got it, in accordance with his pact with the dragon . Feeling that the Candlebright family has sat on its laurels for far too long (especially since practical and buisness minded Hignatta has been increasingly questioning why her late grandfather insisted on keeping a giant pile of money in their basement and never spending it), the god has seen fit to shake things up, ensuring that some long lost blueprints for the vault have fallen into the hands of a group of thieves, who broke in and cleared the vault though the very same secret passages Slaggrath used to pop in every decade or so and make sure the count was up to date. The dragon is pissed, convinced Hignatta has reneged on her family's deal.. and all the while the thieves get closer and closer to escaping.

Depending on how the party handles it this situation could break bad in any number of ways: The dragon could give up on being Scragglmop and go on a rampage forcing the party to put him down, they could intercede on Hignatta's behalf and ensure the treasure is returned possibly earning themselves a cushy position as retainers of house Candlebright, perhaps most dangerously they could earn the attention of Garl Glittergold himself and end up being singled out for their own unstable blessing.

In addition to being motivated by the prerequisite desire to get rich, the thieves were hired by an ambitious mage who has long desired to get his hands on Gailen's Horn, the draconic trophy the bard thereafter used as the sigil for his house and hollowed out into a heavy instrument through which he channelled his most showy magic. The mage has designs on the horn as the centrepiece of a ritual drawing on the object's history of power and triumph. Given that the horn is in fact the centrepiece of a giant con it's going to bring some very unaccounted for variables into the mage's ritual which is liable to set off its own chain of problems down the line.

Art

#adventure #mid level #dragon #town #city #dungeon #thief #garl glittergold #disaster #bard #gnome #I thought this was going to be a short one T_T curse you writers brain #monster hunt #patron merchant #patron noble

608 notes · View notes

elsweetheart · 1 year

Text

♡ abby anderson headcanons ♡

bc dom!abby has my heart

• abby loves when you ride her thigh. it’s a huge ego trip for her, as you get to appreciate her thick legs which she works so hard on during her lengthy workout sessions - but she also adores seeing you get so needy for her, sometimes she’ll just be sat cleaning her weapons or something whilst you writhe on her lap, grabbing at her strong arms as you work yourself over. she’ll pretend to ignore you at first, occasionally chastising you and chuckling mockingly, or just telling you how good you’re being - but she’ll usually end up breaking and just fucking you.

• she gets cuteness aggression towards you, bad. like you know the feeling when you see a lil puppy or kitten and it’s so adorable that you just wanna squeeze it? that’s how she feels towards you when she rocks up late from patrol and sees you fast asleep bundled up in your blanket all warm and docile. she’ll slide in right up next to you and effortlessly lift you to practically be on top of her, kissing your warm cheeks muttering “how are you so fucking cute? you are so adorable. what the fuck.” which only intensifies when you whine a little because she woke you up. if you couldn’t hear what she was saying, you might think she was actually mad at you but she’s genuinely frustrated that you’re so cute.

• she’s not the most affectionate in front of other people, and she might joke around with others but ultimately she worked hard to appear intimidating in a world now dominated by men and she likes to keep up an image that leans more towards stoic. however, she will let you clamber all over her and cling to her jacket wherever you go. her one exception to not initiating PDA will always be when you’re looking for somewhere to sit, as she will always pull you to sit on her thigh - and it’s the best seat in the house.

• her preference is to fuck you with her strap, and honestly she can get off just from getting you off like that, however - once in a blue moon, often in the middle of the night when abby can’t sleep and is craving that skin on skin contact she’ll push your thighs up and grind her own cunt against yours- holding you down and bumping it against yours until you cum.

• much like her aversion to copious amounts of PDA, abby reserves the lovey dovey nicknames for your private time with the exception of the occasional “babe” which still makes you blush. however, if you’re being particularly difficult that day - she will forget your name completely and refer to you only as “brat”. it’ll make you pout and roll your eyes, but she’ll completely dismiss your complaint, leading you ahead of her with a “c’mon, this way brat.”

• she hates it when her pretty girl is stressed or anxious or scared, and if she notices the telltale signs of you displaying these emotions she’ll be sure to pull you aside or into another room to talk you down. she’ll squat infront of you, holding your hands as you weep, and gently swatting them away when you go to swipe your tears away, wiping them softly with her own fingers. “talk to me, pretty.” she’ll quietly demand and you’ll shake your head drawing in a stuttered breath. “s’not your problem abs.” you whine and she’s quick to shake her head in disagreement. “then make it my problem. i’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me how i can make it better.”

• if abby is the one that’s stressed or anxious, for some reason she just needs you to lay on her to feel better. hear me out, it’s something about the compression and your body weight that makes her feel like a person again- and your presence is just so calming to her. she’ll be laying awake beside you, mind racing before she’ll apologetically lift you and cradle you on top of her, and you’ll whimper at the intrusion of your sleep at first (and she’ll shush you so quietly and lovingly that it lulls you back into your relaxed state immediately) and then you settle and snuggle down because she is really comfy to lay on.

• strength kink. i feel like this is a no brainer, but she’ll do anything to display how strong she is, and how easy it is for her to overpower you at any given moment. she’ll fuck you standing up with you in her arms as she bounces you on her strap, or eat you out against a wall with your legs over her shoulders. abby is strong as hell, and she loves how weak and vulnerable you are to her, completely at her mercy.

• she’s super disciplinary. not even always in a sexual way, but she’ll always be telling you to “watch the attitude.” or asking “wheres your manners?” which always fixes your behaviour asap, fluttering your lashes at how dominant she can be. of course in the bedroom, it’s a whole different ballgame — she’ll spank you for being greedy but will always reward you with rubbing loving circles on your clit with a “see? such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

• if abby is anything, she is a manspreader. she takes up so much space just to remind everyone that she’s in charge, and if you’re not perched on her thigh around others, or squished with your legs pressed together to make room for hers beside her, you’ll be sat on the floor between her wide stance with your cheek to her thigh, with big pretty glazed over eyes asking her for something.

• you’re always on her mind, so if she’s out looking for supplies without you and she sees something cute she thinks you’d like she always stuffs it in her backpack to bring back to you. she likes to gift you to reward good behaviour, abby passing a hand over your head gently as you grin at your new gift. “see, it pays to be a good girl, huh?” she’ll smirk with a slight eye roll.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson prompts #dom!abby #tlou2 smut #abby anderson x reader

1K notes · View notes

wildemaven · 9 months

Text

until now, until you : part one | javier peña

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: You meet a handsome stranger in a bar, both of you agreeing on certain terms as the evening goes on— no names, no strings attached, no commitments. What could go wrong— or right?

WC: 4020

Warnings: 18+ Blog: Smoking, Alcohol consumption, heavy flirting, smut!!, fingering, protected p in v, nipple play, consent is sexy, reader has zero descriptive features

A/N: I’m deranged and don’t know what happened with this. But I love it and I’m so excited to share more!! Big big thanks to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for continuously listening to this wildness with Javi and correcting all of my mistakes!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

The dimly lit bar wasn’t as crowded as you would have thought for a Saturday night. Its revolving variety of music and drinks paired with the ostentatious haze that accompanied the flicker of candles decorating the tables, it made the perfect backdrop to unwind and people watch.

From your seat at the bar, you had a great view of the somewhat upscale space. Cushioned high back leather chairs lined the cherry oak bar top, a few chairs provided comfort for a few guests as they faced the array of liquor bottles, watching the bartenders move about mixing elaborate cocktails when requested. Semi-circular booths covered in a rich velvety green fabric lined the opposite wall, each table reserved by a group of ecstatic friends enjoying a small celebration or couples seeking a private spot to lounge in close quarters.

Your eyes occasionally scanned the room as you sipped the lemony concoction that was recently placed in front of you, the bartender insisting it was a popular drink among regulars, observing the quiet conversations and unfamiliar faces, contemplating over how your evening had turned from a blind date with zero promise of a future, to you now sitting alone in a bar.

The night was still young when your date and you had come to the conclusion early on that there was zero compatibility between you two. Not wanting your evening or your outfit to go to waste, letting your stilettos do the thinking and guide you to the nearest place in hopes to turn your night around.

Every so often you find yourself fixated on the handsome man sitting two chairs from your seat, dark chestnut hair styled with some care, a perfectly trimmed mustache framed his upper lip— the perfect addition to his devastatingly gorgeous features.

His gaze was heavily focused on the amber liquid, whiskey if you had to guess, that he swirled around in the crystal glass.

In between his own sipping, he’d take a drag off of his lit cigarette. His plush lips wrapped around the tiny tobacco stick with such ease. You were mesmerized by the way his cheeks sucked in with each pull, accentuating his sharp cheekbones. He seems like a seasoned smoker, letting the smoke ruminate through his airways before tilting his head back and blowing the vapor through his gorgeous pursed lips, making an effort to keep it from settling around those sitting within close proximity to him.

You had clocked him pretty quickly on his arrival, the crisp Texas evening air billowing through the room as the heavy wooden door swung closed the second he stepped into the bar. Your attention was captured by the unfussiness of this mysterious man, dressed in dark blue jeans and a red button up— an attire meant for a more casual setting, but he looked like he was seeking something more than a dive bar could offer.

He had sauntered his way up to the counter in the most Texas way possible, the heels of his palms resting on the edge of the bar counter as he eased himself into the unoccupied chair two seats over. Your breath catching when his eyes lock with yours, offering a smile and a nod before taking a seat and signaling for the bartender.

Majority of your evening was spent stealing brief glances, memorizing every little detail of his beautiful face, while trying to muster up the strength to have a conversation with him. You weren’t looking for anything serious, but he definitely seemed like he could potentially liven up the rest of your evening— your brain muddled with a deep attraction and desire to be closer to this man.

A streak of adrenaline streaming through your system had you feeling bold and confident about your approach, hoping you weren’t coming on too strong in your efforts.

“Would it be okay if I bummed one of those off of you?” Pointing at the red and white packet of cigarettes, leaning forward in his direction.

He looks down at the pack, then back to you, his chair swiveling in your direction as he holds out the small box and lighter. You pluck one of the untouched sticks out, placing the butt of it between your lips— not missing the way he watches intensely at how your mouth holds the smoke, eyes constantly flicking back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

You watch as your thumb flicks vigorously at the lighter, each attempt failing to produce the little flame you so desperately needed to pull off this moment. He must have sensed your frustration, sliding his glass in your direction and his knee knocking into yours as he sits down in the chair next to yours.

“Here, let me.” He says, taking a hold of the lighter in your hand, his thumb deftly striking the spark wheel and holding the ignition tab.

The flame flickers about at the end of the cigarette, a glow washes over your face as you focus on the long drag of air through the cigarette, the end beginning to form a glowing fiery ember.

You’re not really sure of the exact process, but you try to play it off like you have definitely had this before. It burns as the smoke settles in the back of your throat, immediately expelling the smoke from your mouth in a few short coughs, waving off the lingering haze floating through the air as you try to downplay the assault on your lungs.

“First time?” His brows furrowed, concerned about your little suffocating mishap, three fingers bringing his glass up to his lips, his throat tensing as he swallowed down the rest of his drink.

You mirror his actions, washing down the residual nicotine on your tongue, wishing it was water to help with the lingering burn.

“What gave it away?” You say, twirling the stem of your glass between your fingers.

He takes another drag, deciding you hate how sexy he looks doing it, but you don’t want him to stop because it’s making you feel a sort of way each time he does it. Silently torturing yourself with all the ways you would love to see his mouth work— on you.

“The choking was a dead giveaway.” You both laugh together at how right he is.

“Guilty! You just looked so— attractive over there with yours, I figured I’d give it a shot. Lesson learned. Here, do you want the rest of it?” Holding out the smoldering cigarette to him. “Plus, they say they’re bad for you— so I guess my lack of experience isn’t such a bad thing.”

He laughs again, grabbing the cigarette from you and placing it in an ashtray, then focusing back on you as he props and elbow up on the counter.

“You get stood up?” He asks.

“Straight to the point. What makes you think I got stood up?”

“A beautiful woman, dressed like that, sitting alone in a bar— a man would be stupid to see you and leave without you on his arm. So, I’m assuming he never saw you to begin with?” He’s confident in his assessment.

He thinks I’m beautiful? Evening not wasted.

“Actually, I was on a date— set up by a friend who’s determined to find me someone to settle down with.”

“That bad then?”

“No, he was a great guy, almost too great. But we wanted different things, and decided it was best if we just ended the dinner early before we went any further.” You explained with complete transparency.

As you shift yourself in the seat, your foot brushes up against his leg as you cross your legs. You catch the way his thumb slowly skims over his bottom lip, intently watching your foot slide up and down the length of his calf, his eyes then returning to you. Even in the middle of this dimly lit room, you can see the desire sparking in his warm brown eyes.

“Different? How so?”

“He wanted a potential wife.”

“And you?”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you contemplate the answer you want to give him, and gauging by how enthralled he is, leaning closer into your space, it’s fair to assume the attraction is mutual.

“Nothing serious— no strings attached. Just a fun evening to let off steam and then go about our merry way.” You tell him, as you prop yourself up onto the counter, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

His response is a low hum, jaw ticking to the side and an eyebrow cocked upward as he contemplates your suggestion. He finds you very attractive and likes the suggestion of no strings attached— he’s not looking for anything serious either, so maybe a night of indulging is just what he needs too.

He studies the way your body responds to his touch, placing a hand on your exposed knee that is situated between his legs, thumb drawing light circles over your now pebbled skin. He doesn’t miss the small gasp you let out as hand inches over your thigh, exploring how soft you feel under his callused hands.

If you could, you’d will your body to come right now. This prequel to what you hope to be amazing foreplay, has your body buzzing with anticipation, craving more of whatever he’s willing to give.

Confidence erupting through your body, you decide that one night with this handsome man is a very good idea. Waving down the nearest bartender to close out your tab, leaving a more than generous tip, has things in motion.

Hopping down from the bar stool, downing the rest of your drink in one final gulp before grabbing your clutch and turning to the man still seated, awaiting your signal. You take a move out of his playbook, placing your hand on his denim clad thigh, slowly sliding up towards his groin— he exhales deeply when you boldly brush your fingers against the growing bugle within the confines of his jeans.

“I think we both know where this is going…” You say, your lips ghosting over his ear, hand slowly sliding off of his leg as you move around him, heels clicking against the floor as you head towards the bathroom.

Looking back over your shoulder, he’s watching your every move, giving him a sultry wink and adding a little more sway to your hips as you walk down the shadowy hallway— missing him throw a few bills on the countertop before stubbing out the rest of his cigarette and finishing his drink in a hastily manner.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you step into the bathroom. Nowhere to set your clutch, you toss it into the oversized sink, then bracing your body against the washing basin as your brain catches up to what is about to happen if that beautiful stranger walks through that bathroom door.

Not just a simple one night stand, but a one night stand with someone you had only laid eyes on 30 minutes prior.

There was a small part of you that was nervous about the thought of sleeping with someone you knew absolutely nothing about— but it was only a small part of you. The other part was completely eager, an excitement stirring within you, so turned on by the fact that you were about to have the most amazing night in a long time.

You give yourself a once over in one of the many framed mirrors, different shapes and sizes, hung above the sink— grateful in your choice of a silky shift dress, the fabric draping over your curves perfectly.

It’s an impulsive move, but a daring one as you rid yourself of your lace underwear, confidence continuing to build as the seconds tick on, carefully stepping out of them and stuffing them into your clutch.

A light knock on the door grabs your attention, one quick look at your reflection before turning to open the door. You’re met with a rush of air. Bodies colliding, gripping and pulling, strong hands providing stability in a synchronized flow of hasty movements as your back collides with the cool brick wall. Lungs exerting a passionate strain, as you look at the handsome stranger pressed against you. His eyes search for any sign of hesitancy on your face, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

The room is quiet once the lock is set, shared breaths drowning out the world existing on the other side of the door.

“Are you sure you want this? Tell me to stop and I’ll walk right back out there, no questions asked.” His words fan across your face, hot and honeyed as he seeks your consent to continue.

“Yes! I want this— I want you.” You purr with conviction. His chest is firm beneath your touch, fingers settling into his thick rich brown hair.

You gasp into his parted lips when you feel one of his hands cup your unclothed cunt, the skirt of your dress bunched over your hips. His other arm is quick to wrap around your waist, aiding in the support of your now shaky legs.

“Were you planning on this happening?” He asks as his deft fingers begin to swipe through your wet folds.

“No— but it seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up.” You say between staggered rapid breaths.

“And what if I turned you down?” His hand stills, the question hanging in the air as he observes your nearly blissed out expression.

You're not quite sure what happened to your usual demure self, and frankly you don’t mind that she is taking a backseat to this exhilarating situation unfolding.

“I would have gone home and gotten myself off thinking about how handsome you looked sitting there at the bar. If it’s too much of a challenge, my hands are more than capable of handling this when I get hom—“

There’s a mixture of fierceness and purpose behind his heady work, your words forgotten as his mouth crashes against yours in a mess of greedy lips and ardent nips.

He continues to kiss you with a fervent effort, swallowing the mewling whine that escapes your throat when his two fingers slide exquisitely into your velvety heat. His chest rumbles as your walls immediately clench around him, your body already on the precipice of an intoxicating payoff that it takes only a few swipes of his thumb over your sensitive clit to have you coming all over his hand.

“Oh fuck!”

There’s a steady buzz of desire burning through you, your head falling back against the wall, mind reeling over the way this man was able to pull you apart with measured precision on his part. You would be lying if you said you were not looking forward to what else he was able to do with the rest of his extremities.

His warm mouth latches onto your open neck. Blood rushing to the surface of your skin as he sucks and bites along your collarbone, his tongue soothing over the surface as he continues his quest for more of you.

“I didn’t get your name.” He states as he halts his movements.

His hair is a tousled mess and you can’t help but admire how gorgeous he is up close. The aurous flecks in his irises, visible even in the soft glow of this bathroom. A flush forming on the apples of his cheeks, the rosy coloring is perfect with his golden skin. His lips are a little fuller, tactile and tempting in their plushness.

“I didn’t give it.” You muse, brushing the fallen hair off of his forehead. “No names. No strings attached. No commitments. We just enjoy what’s happening and then you and I leave this bar with just a memorable time together— is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

It’s another blurred rush of motions, now pushed up against the sink facing the wall of ornate mirrors. You watch through one of them as he rips open a condom wrapper in record time, hands hurried as he works it over his hard length.

“You sure still want this?” He asks once more, his chest flush against your back, the head of his cock notching at your weeping entrance.

“Y-yes— Please!”

He slowly sinks into you, your moans mingle about in the confined space as he stills to let you adjust to him, his grip firm on your hips as you hold steady to the sides of the sink.

“I’m gonna move, okay?” His voice is rough against your ear. You manage to nod in response, your brain too dazed at the sensation of his cock inside of you.

The echoing of his hips slamming into you fills the room, the drag and thrust of his length hits that sweet spot— eliciting a high pitched sigh from somewhere deep inside of you.

“Fuck! That feels so good!” Your jaw goes slack, as he continues to punch through your aroused cunt.

His hands begin to wander around. One still firm against your hip, holding your bunched dress out of the way, while the other settles under your breast, oscillating between kneading at the weight of it and pinching at your pebbled nipple— triggering your muscles to grip him tighter as he does it.

His breath is hot on your neck, forehead resting against the side of your head.

“You’re so beautiful— the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” Words freely fall from his lips. There’s weight to them, your stomach dropping as he continues to praise you in the most endearing way.

You manage to open your eyes in your pleasured haze, his eyes already locked on you and they don’t falter. This isn’t what you expected going into this, to feel anything aside from an amazing kiss and a good orgasm, but this pure infatuation has begun to creep up into your chest. He’s looking at you with an intensity that far exceeds anything you’ve ever been on the receiving end of— your body craving more of it.

Your body begins to tense, your cunt clamping down as a lustrous arousal blooms at your core. A surge of heat licks at the base of your spine, you feel yourself beginning to tip over the edge.

“Oh god! I’m— I’m gonna come!”

“I got you— I got you. Go ahead, let go.” He nods to your reflection as draws delicate circles over your clit, coaxing the final push needed to reach euphoric heights.

“Shit! Fu— hnngh!” He moans as the pulsating grip on his dick has him finishing right behind you, his warm spend filling the condom.

He continues to hold you against him as his movements halt, pressing a trail of tender kisses from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your ear, then his gaze focuses back to where you’re still watching him in the mirror.

“You okay?”

“Yeah— more than okay!” Still trying to catch your breath, your skin tingling in a post carnal delight.

The room is filled with silence, the excitement at a low simmer now as he pulls out of you, ridding himself of the condom as you begin to search for your discarded underwear.

Situating his jeans back onto his narrow hips and fastening his leather belt, all ready to head back out to the now bustling bar when he catches the way you stumble trying to step into your lace underwear.

“Here, let me help you.” He says, kneeling down to help.

“It’s okay— I just need a minute for my sea legs to get back to normal.”

He chuckles softly, grabbing your undergarment allowing you to properly step into them while you steady yourself with the sink edge. He slowly slides them up your legs, fingers lightly grazing over your skin and glancing up to you as he does so, then positioning them just right, your dress falling when he removes his hands from you.

“Thank you.” You say as you turn to look at yourself in the mirror, your usual timid demeanor now taking over your senses.

A stillness hangs between you for a moment, neither of you really sure how to feel about what just happened. There was a spark building between you, a yearning for something more than you agreed on.

“I’m gonna head out then I guess. This was fun— I had a great time with you.” He said, chewing at his bottom lip, tapping his knuckles against the porcelain surface of the sink.

“Yeah— me too. Thank you for this— I really needed it.” Holding your purse tightly in front of you, nervously picking at the tiny beads that decorate it.

Taking a few short steps toward where you’re standing, the space between your bodies disappears, his hand cups your face as his lips begin to move over yours without hesitation. You hold his arms, allowing his proficient tongue to meld over yours. It’s passionate and all-encompassing— and there’s an unreasonable part of you that wants to kiss him for an eternity.

You’re not sure how long it lasts, long enough to crave more and not enough to be disappointed when he pulls away.

He rests his forehead against yours, then slowly backs away towards the door, giving you one last look before heading out and the door closing behind him.

You groan in frustration, smacking your clutch into your face as you try to compose your blurred thoughts about what had just transpired— most of them about the nameless man who you will most likely never see again.

The bar is now filled to its max capacity, music levels lifted to accommodate the lively atmosphere. You hang up the pay phone tucked in the corner and head in the direction of the front door. Dancing bodies make it difficult to shuffle your way through, but you manage and welcome the cool air as you step out onto the sidewalk.

A breeze blows through as you wait by the curb, wishing you had an extra layer to shield you from the wind.

“Hey!” A familiar voice says, prompting you to turn in the direction it was coming from.

The handsome stranger, his boots scuffing against the ground as he walks to where you were waiting, giving you ample time to admire him under the glow of the full moon, now noticing the dimple that pairs with the casual smile he gives you.

“Hi.” You smile brightly at him, a nervousness washing over you as he stands there with his hand on his hips.

“You need a ride home? My pickup is parked over there— I don’t mind getting you to where you need to go.” He points back in the direction of the parking lot, his nervous rambling is endearing.

You tilt your head as you let his words resonate around in your mind. You want nothing more than for him to take your hand and guide you to his truck, holding your hand and the door open as you carefully climb into the cab. To watch his profile as he focuses on the road ahead, while some sweet country song about falling in love with a stranger at a bar drifts from the speakers. For him to walk you to your front door so you can both stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say as the night comes to an end. To feel his lips once more before he tells you to have a good night and he’d love to see you again.

“That would go against the no strings attached part of our deal though.” You explain lightly, the crunching tires of your cab coming to a stop grabs your attention. “This is me. Thank you again— I really had a great night with you.” You lean in and kiss his cheek before turning and getting into the cab.

“‘Night Handsome.” You say to him as you shut the door and the driver pulls away from the curb.

He waves you off as the cab drives away, a small part of him hoping this isn’t the last time he sees you.

#Javier Peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #until now until you series #pedrostories

391 notes · View notes

icyg4l · 1 month

Text

PAC: How Can You Attract More Clientele?

hello beautiful people! i wanted to do something different today! this is for my business owners out there, this one is for you. if you need some extra reassurance/advice on how to gain more traction, this is for you. without further ado, please pick the image that resonates with you the most.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: I heard “something’s brewing” as I was shuffling for this pile. Pile One, do you know how lucky people are to have your talents in this world? Why don’t you take your talents where they belong? I feel like you aren’t really pushing yourself the way that you’re supposed to. You’re all talk but when it comes down to actually putting in the work, you get scary. There’s no point in planning for the future if you don’t live in it. So do what you have to do in order to be known! Another thing about you is that there’s some shame around your work. It’s like you’re embarrassed to show off your stuff so you’ll just hand it off to people that you know and when you get compliments, you won’t necessarily take them as one should. You need to celebrate your work forreal. Your work needs to be seen. You need to be around other creative people so that you can have personal muses in your life. You need to know that your talents will be recognized as long as you let them. All in all, in order to attract clientele, you need to be willing to put yourself out there.

Cards Used: Princess of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Cups, Knight of Swords, 2 of Wands, 7 of Swords.

extras: shuffle. coffee brewer. sodastream. alliteration. mime. pasties. original invention.

Pile Two: Aggressive marketing is a tactic that you need to take on, Pile Two. This is a pile similar to Pile One in the sense that you are being too coy. I am seeing a fast-paced work environment. You deliver your products fast and you come up with ideas pretty fast. The thing is though, you do not really sell yourself. When I say this, I mean that you are too calm and humble with the way that you market yourself. People tend to overlook you because you’re not really showing off your product/brand. Invest in your brand and you will see better results. If you have a TikTok or Instagram, I’m not going to lie, talking fast or talking in a bubbly manner will help your clients flock to you. I am feeling a little chaotic right now as I type this. I feel like you need to unleash your chaotic side into this marketing. People would be more willing to buy the product if you show off your authentic energy.

Cards Used: Four of Swords, Temperance (RX), The Devil (RX), The Hermit, 9 of Wands, Ace of Swords, Prince of Cups, Eight of Wands

extras: panda express. takeoff. funeral. egg sandwich. sadistic. clueless. “you are the visuals baby.”

Pile Three: There is nothing wrong with getting shit done, Pile Three. I feel like this pile thinks that they do everything right, or do you? I think you need to stop caring about the validation of other people. Do you actually like what it is that you’re doing/selling? Is it fulfilling to present this product to other people? If so, then you need to just be patient. You are very impatient to the process of gaining sales. You need to let more time pass. Your business hasn’t taken off because you do not let shit marinate. If you let time pass by, you would actually gain more clientele. As you await for this moment though, take everything as a learning experience. If you do not feel fulfilled/personally rewarded, then it is time for a rebrand. You need to figure out how this product resonates with you. What is your personal connection with it? How can you connect to other people through this product? What lasting impact do you want to leave on people? I also see that you do need to get involved with people offline as well. Posting flyers up around your neighborhood would really benefit you, my love.

Cards Used: The Emperor, Strength, 4 of Swords, The Devil, The Hanged Man, Judgment, Prince of Wands, Queen of Discs

extras: orlando. drill rap. ohio. “earthy scents.” twisted tea. green giant.

Pile Four: I actually feel like this pile is super close to meeting their goal number of clients. You have been putting in the right amount of work and therefore, you have been getting rewarded. But you need to learn how to network. I feel like this pile just needs to be at the right place at the right time. If you find yourself getting invited to an event that needs your skills, you should check it out. It’ll be the key to your big break. I also think that you should consider trading with other creatives to gain more clientele. Consider promoting other creatives’ work so that more people can come to you. I think it really all comes down to the timing of it all. But your time is pretty soon. You’re already eating good but soon you’ll be eating real good. There’s not really much you have to do but just show yourself off.

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune. The Magician. Queen of Discs. King of Wands. 7 of Discs. King of Discs. The Emperor.

extras: dill pickle. onion rings. pastel colors. breakfast foods. sizing issues.

119 notes · View notes