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xfancyuu · 1 year

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~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #i just had fun writing this if you couldnt tell #basically i watched the tudors and yeah #i think this is the filthiest thing i've wrote

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aphpuffinchild · 8 months

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since it's out i can finally post my piece for @hws-anthology as well as the timelapse for it. as is arguably all my hetalia work, it's a love letter to my friend @pyrrhocorax 's fic Sendlingur og Sandlóa - i'll ramble a bit about how much it means to me, as well as the symbolism i wormed into this piece below the read more :)

i originally had two pages planned for this piece, potentially more - the fic is a good 74k words long and certainly not light on scenes i could and wanted to pull from, but various things led into other various things and one page was all i could manage, so i tried to cram in what i could, so here's that (in a rough, somewhat arbitrary order of focal points)

the opening chapter! the car is a framing device for the piece as much as it is for the journey the characters will take following that first chapter, so i wanted to use the car window/shapes as a literal framing device in my drawing

joi, shaky at best in his sense of self, sees no reflection in the window, instead there's a silhouetted raven to signify the search he must go on to find it

while not perfectly transcribed by virtue of wonky (plus an extra) line(s), the notes coming from joi's headphones are the opening to the song sendlingur og sandlóa, the fic's namesake, which a loved one kindly transposed by ear for me for the purpose of this piece

in a similar vein, the stickers on joi's suitcase are of a purple sandpiper and a ringed plover, the birds after which the song is named - here they are as transparents and in their original colours

i wanted to create a sliiight impression that joi is the one knocking over the chessboard, representing his repeated rejections of it (both physically, and the things it represents)

the chess pieces were also chosen specifically! originally i was going to use a black rook and a white pawn to match chapter 41, but for the sake of having alternating colours and the rest of my metaphors working (iirc) i swapped those colours around. that, and i wanted to match chapter 13's white king and black pawn - the black pawn stuck, the white king was colour swapped for colour cohesion reasons like the other's. (visual contrast was important to me, but the white queen blending slightly into the sky was okay for symbolism reasons) (there was also black king, white rook from chapter 3, so it all worked out anyway - there's a lot of chess in this story and i only had space for so many pieces and colours, basically)

speaking of which, the black pawn is for joi (chapter 13), the white queen is for halle (someone who, from joi's perspective, can go anywhere, vs joi's pawn, someone to be used -> see chapter 35 and perspective).

the king piece is falling (but hasn't quite fallen) between halle and henrik (chapter 3, 7, 13, though i most clearly thought of 19)

the person in the top right corner is eduard! i desperately wanted to include him because i think he's deserved it, and i considered a lot of ways of working him in, but i think an ambiguous silhouette that isn't Quite part of the main picture works better narratively

note also that he's separated from the other's through a red curtain, to represent the iron curtain (naturally) i wanted it to match ber + tino's part in some way, to sorta emphasise their similar foundations despite being split apart across places

the flowers at eduard's window are placed and chosen purposefully as well! orange/red zinnia's outside (for familial ties, steadfastness, friendship and remembrance) for what eduard puts out in to the world, then lily-of-the-valley for tino and cornflower for him inside to show what he wants to hold close :)

halle and joi are the only characters with their eyes open - halle looks towards the viewer/author/reader/joi, while joi looks away all together. if you've read the fic (which i assume you have because i can't imagine this is interested to read otherwise) you probably don't need me to explain why that reflects their roles in the story

similarly, every character apart from the brothers is turned towards another in some way (eduard does not count when his flowers do, and his role in the story is based around that disconnect partially anyway) tino towards ber and eduard (and hana, i guess), ber towards tino, henrik to halle, halle to henrik (though he looks away - his values are elsewhere even when they are together). joi, at best, looks at his own reflection in the window

the colour scheme, while arbitrarily picked from gradient maps based on what i felt "fit" has been approved by the author as being very "SoS core"

finally, the poem on the note, chapter 46

all that being said, i can and will now talk about my personal relationship with SoS, so unless that interests you i imagine the post is done now! thank you for reading :)

the first comment i posted on SoS is dated 2nd November 2016 - logging into my old account i can see i bookmarked it on the 31st August that same year, so i can safely assume i first read or at least found it then. a month after my first comment, i posted another on a different account, pouring a few bits of my heart out and the author responded! we went back and forth a bit and eventually talked (i think) via tumblr for a little, but the majority of our conversations were via skype for whatever reason (we didn't call, just texted). it was a lot of me looking for writing advice, insight to their work/process/skill, talking about The Brothers and talking about psychology/the brain on a general and personal level. i think if i read our conversations back now i'd cringe, given that i was an awkward, fumbling 16 year old, but i dont think anything else wouldve been fitting given the subject matter. eventually our conversations fizzled out and we stopped talking for years, but i'd go back to SoS routinely and cry.

in may of 2021, i posted another comment during what in hindsight was definitely another relatively minor mental health episode - i think it was half trying to emphasise how important the work was to me on the off chance pyrr saw it, and half a bid for connection since i had no idea if they even remembered us talking. i assumed nothing would come of it, and for about a year that was true - until pyrr responded after all in february of 2022 - i'm happy to say we've been talking consistently on discord since then. i feel a little weird speaking too intimately about our friendship as it is now since it's not just my story to tell (though pyrr, if you're reading this) (i'm sure you are at some point) (you're welcome to talk about it however, i just didn't want to without consulting you) but i can say with some certainty that it's at least a little bit my fault that we have a sequel now - cementing my place as official number #1 fan and validating the me from almost 8 years ago in a way i don't think either of us processes well.

it's here that i feel the need to talk about my other dear friend, @hws-lceland , who i'm grateful to have met through the zine's discord server. i'm sure they're reading this too, and a lot of what our relationship means to me is stuff that's probably a bit too vulnerable for either of us to speak publicly, but i *can* say that i love them very much, and i'm really grateful to have someone else to understand, and that he read SoS for me. i thought he needed it, and i hope i was right

sendlingur is...endlessly important to me. i'm aiming to not write an essay here (a goal i think i've already sorta shot in the foot) but i think it's important for me to talk about some of this a little loudly, all the same. my writing has changed because of the series - remeeting with pyrr and showing them some of my more recent work was interesting since it was apparent even to them the influences i'd taken (to be fair, in one section i explicitly asked and did borrow a format of theirs, but this goes beyond that). when i was 16 i asked my mum to read the fic in a desperate bid to be understood. i've cried reading the fic many, many times. i've signed off letters and poems with my switched around version of i'm sorry / thank you / i love you (i swap the first two around) many, many, many times, including in a close friend's wedding gift. SoS has very sincerely changed my definition of love. the name halle is a part of my abstract mindscape. id already considered changing my name to johannes anyway and this fic certainly didnt help. i've gained a friendship of 7 and a half years through it. i've gained another newer one now, too. i am not well. i wasn't well then, reading it, and it hasn't fixed me (i am worse, now, arguably), but it healed something, or at least made me feel understood. i could go on, and maybe sometime i will (there were so many things i wanted to include in my piece and pay homage to!), but for now i will thank anyone who took the time to read all this (again), and say that i look forward to experiencing the sequel

as always, i'm sorry, thank you, i love you

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws iceland #hws norway #hetalia iceland #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia sweden #hws sweden #hws estonia #hetalia estonia #hetalia finland #hws finland

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bookshelfdreams · 11 months

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#Op I need u to know I thought this was about his post-coytal bedside manner when I read the first line#was fully expecting you to wax poetic about how Ed's mediocer attempt at making breakfast was actually a heartfelt attempt to make sure#he didn't feel like he was a One And Done type of thing#I was vibrating#and then it was s1 meta 💀 RIP LMAO (@zo1nkss, on this post)

No, absolutely, let's talk about it. Because this?

This is terrible. Comically bad. The worst anyone's ever done it, I'm sorry to say. The toast looks like it's covered in coal dust. The tea (? I hope it's tea, might as well be Ye Olde Cuba Libre) has clearly gone cold. Ed spooned the marmalade directly onto the tablet instead of just leaving it in the jar like a sane person, for fuck's sake!

Of course that's deliberate; they even make sure we know what the platonic ideal of a nice breakfast tablet looks like with the title card.

It's like an Expectation vs Reality meme. There's a flower, there's porcelain, there's even a plate! Ed, I know you've had breakfast before, why are you so bad at this?

Because, of course, this was doomed from the start.

Ed is panicking, because he knows falling into bed together right after everything that happened in 02x06 was a mistake, and he's desperately trying to salvage the situation.

Ed wanted to take things slow, because he wants stability. He wants to pursue happiness. He wants to build a beautiful life with someone he loves! Breakfast in bed every day!

Instead he to watch the love of his life be tortured in front of him, because of him, and then had to watch him intentionally kill a guy for the first time in his life - also because of him! This is the opposite of what he wanted, for himself or for Stede.

He wanted them both to be safe and happy, but instead they had an evening of horrible experiences and then had sex about it. It's all coming crashing down. Aside form the worst breakfast spread in known history, look how the scene is shot and coloured: The slightest green tint, just enough to turn the light harsh and cold, how far apart from each other they are. Tons of empty space in the frame. How they are backlit, so they are in the shadows, their faces barely discernible.

This isn't a happy Morning After. This is them standing at the ruins of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment, but the violence of piracy broke into it and destroyed it.

Ed knows he needs to leave it behind, once and for all. Throws out his Blackbeard kit to make his decision to abandon the pirate life irreversible. Tries to have a soft, domestic moment, shares the lovely story about Merstede coming to rescue him, in an attempt to salvage his dream of retirement with Stede.

But Stede? Oh, Stede is on an entirely different page. He just had his first real taste of the power violence can grant him. While the torture wasn't fun, in the end, he triumphed! Defended his love, defended his crew! And topped it all off with what was probably the first positive sexual experience in all his 40whatever years of life! He's patronizing and kinda bitchy about the whole spread, because he doesn't get what Ed is trying to tell him. All he sees is Ed being terrible at this domestic bullshit, but that's okay because he thinks he's terrible at it too!

They'll just sail the seas, terrorize the various empires and have adventures together, forever and ever! That's the dream, right? Right???

(Wait, what do you mean Last night was a mistake?)

#THEY NEED TO TALK TO EACH OTHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR #SO BAD #god will they ever have 1 single conversation this is driving me nuts honestly #yk the more i think about it the more i love that izzy sung the soundtrack to their first time #because it makes it just SO awkward and uncomfortable #& i think thats the point #this was never going to work. not like this #yes i know i have already written a thousand posts on how bad ed and stede are at communicating. i will write a thousand more.#our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #blackbonnet #thoughts

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csuitebitches · 9 months

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I apologize for the long ask and if this question is a bit juvenile but objectively, how can one “gain” pretty privilege/gauge how they are viewed? I’ve done well in career pursuits for how early on I am ( I graduated in 2020) but started noticing that the invites to events/opportunities where one can really establish themselves not only professionally but socially, I was getting passed over by some higher up colleagues. In speaking to a female mentor who is related to my field and the same background as me (Black), she alluded that while my race may play a small factor in it, it’s more so my appearance that may be holding me back as the personality and poise is there. Some coworkers of mine who are brilliant and POC have similar credentials and positions as I and while we are all wonderful and hard working, they (who I feel are more beautiful and put together looks-wise) have discussed privately to me they have noticed a difference in treatment between us. While it’s not right, I am adult enough to know not to let things that can be fixed hinder the life I want. Your page is a wealth of information and I appreciate how encouraging you are!!

well. I’m going to be very blunt.

it’s all fun and games to say “oh fuck the beauty standards they’re terrible and they shouldn’t exist” yes, true, unfortunately they do exist and they play a bigger role than we imagine it to be.

the first thing you have to get right is your mindset.

you need to be strong enough to admit that you need changes in X, Y, Z area but not in A, B, C area. You also need to be a little loyal towards your racial identity (for the better or worse) because that’s what is going to make you stand out.

if you have a sensitive, overly emotional mindset and you get hurt very easily / become obsessive by nature, I highly recommend you to STOP reading now.

Understand what is considered pretty in your country and area. Even in one country, beauty standards can different from the north and south. Don’t exactly try to become attractive for the opposite sex but understand what they find attractive because these guys are your primary responders to your pretty privilege. Women will be kind on the surface and so it can be difficult to get constructive criticism from them.

Understand what YOU consider pretty. Who are the women who you think are crazy beautiful? What do they look like, dress like, how’s their hair and their make up, can you replicate any of it? Rule of thumb when it comes to hair and beauty - look at influencers / celebs who are of your racial background for the best fit.

there are always a few things that are universally considered “respectfully attractive” not “you wanna fuck me attractive”- semi modesty/ modesty outfits (my father always told me that when in doubt, go for a more conservative look), hygiene, well kept hair, clean nails and toe nails, soft skin, natural make up, natural hair colour, perfume, clothes that fit, skin care, a workout routine.

pretty privilege is not just the art of looking pretty. It’s also bringing in something of value on the table. Value = money / connections / knowledge/ humour / being the fun social person / whatever value the target group considers to be the most important for you to be relevant to them. Work on your soft skills. It’s better to look half baked but have solid soft skills than to look amazing and not know how to converse.

things that one normally notices when meeting someone new:

Skin - is it clear, is the make up overdone?

hair - is it messy or does it suit your face structure?

how you smell

teeth, when you talk - and dental hygiene

shoes - are they filthy?

shirt/ top - does it fit you well (always check that the seams on your shoulder and your actual shoulder line up), the colour of your clothes

body type, posture, how you carry yourself

start with incremental changes. Make a list of things you think you could improve on (this is not a list of “ugly” things, it’s an “improvement/ potential” list). Sort them according to ease of improvement (is this going to be expensive and difficult or affordable and easy?) and time (can this be done overnight or will it take some time).

Use point 1 and 2 only as launching pads. You do not have to look like Beyoncé, you’re simply understanding what her MUA and hair stylist does for her that could work for you. After a point, you have to ensure that YOUR identify sticks out and is still there, you’re not born to imitate someone else and also, it’s very obvious when someone is trying to be someone they’re not.

again. I repeat. If you’re going to get obsessive and make yourself sick over this it’s NOT WORTH IT. If you’re not mentally capable of making these changes, do not go through it.

#Q/a #pretty privilege

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smalltownrobin · 3 months

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Robin Buckley in ST5 - what we know so far

Decided to make a comprehensive post of everything we know about Robin in s5!! A little for my own benefit but I'm sure something like this won't be unappreciated? I have checked with others for details I've missed or gotten wrong and all seems to be correct, but if anyone thinks I have missed anything please feel free to let me know!! (this well ofc be added to if we get more info over the rest of production)

POSSIBLE S5 SPOILERS BELOW (OFC)

Confirmed details:

“more involved than ever” (Maya quote)

Makes friends with characters she hasn’t interacted with yet (confirmed by Maya)

Loads or unloads groceries from Bradley’s out of a lorry with Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Murray (paparazzi)

Has a kiss scene (most likely with Vickie) (confirmed by Maya as a “spoiler”)

There is a shot where Robin is stood in a line with Nancy, Joyce, El and Will (El says “there’s too many”, Will looks nervous) (ST staff)

Is in the centre of a birdseye shot with the whole group lying down next to Will (Vickie is also possibly there next to her) (ST staff)

Acts as a mentor figure for one or more of the party (most likely Will, also possibly Mike) (confirmed by Maya)

Shares scenes with Will and Mike (could be separately and together) (ST staff)

There is a small painted figurine prop possibly related to Robin that Maya wants to keep after filming (confirmed by Maya)

Has a scene helping someone called Debbie (presumably a child) out of or into a tunnel (Debbie asks if she works for someone, Robin lies she is “one of his elves”) (script page leaked by Maya)

Has a scene inspecting a fuse box with Joyce (ST staff)

Has a scene with Mike by (or even possibly in) the WSQK van and a car covered in upside down vines (paparazzi)

Has filmed on a blue screen set with Mike (ST staff)

Runs down the hospital corridor with "another character" (seemingly Vickie) while the lights are flashing multicoloured (paparazzi)

Drives Joyce's car to the hospital behind an ambulance being followed by military (paparazzi)

Confirmed filming locations:

WSQK radio station (exterior) with Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Murray (paparazzi)

a separate instance with Mike (ST staff)

WSQK radio station (interior) with Joyce, Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas, Nancy, Jonathan and Steve (ST staff)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital (interior, specifically a patient room, possibly also the waiting room) with Vickie (ST staff/Amybeth)

a separate instance in the corridors with Vickie (paparazzi)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital (exterior) with Lucas (paparazzi)

McCorkle Farm (presumably) with the whole cast (Will, Mike, Nancy, Karen, Erica and a new character confirmed) (ST staff)

Hawkins National Lab (exterior) with Mike (paparazzi)

Outfits:

(a long blue coat on top of what looks like a plaid shirt and black trousers) (the pattern/mark on her shoulder is interesting... all I will say)

This outfit is seemingly from the first episode, and she has worn it at both the radio station and the hospital sets!

(a blue jumper possibly with a white graphic or pattern on the front and black trousers with a black watch)

I believe this outfit is from the second episode! So far we've only seen it at the radio station set, there's a chance she also wore it at the hospital set (instead of the first outfit) but it's so difficult to tell since they're similar colours.

(a white graphic t-shirt over a purple jumper, with light blue jeans and a belt, black converse and a mid length black leather jacket which she removes, with her hair half up with a blue bow, silver rings, a black watch and a silver chain necklace) (the glasses in the first photo I'm assuming were for the Duffers' birthday party and are not part of her costume)

I believe this outfit appears in either the third and fourth episodes and onwards until idk, which she has worn at both the radio station and farm sets! The image on her t-shirt is of Tom Waits:

He's a musician mostly known for folk music in the 70s and 80s. This photo specifically was taken in 1983 and was printed in russian and dutch magazines. (a side note: Maya Hawke loves folk music and is most likely a fan of his, and Winona Ryder owns and has famously worn a Tom Waits shirt over the years!)

(there is another photo of Maya in the Robin wig wearing a triumph motorcycles t-shirt, but as far as I know that t-shirt is Maya's own, so I'm assuming she is not in full costume in that photo!)

And that's everything!! There is of course supposed leaks floating around, but for the moment I'm not including them as most of them appear to be fake so would be a little pointless? There also just hasn't been that many for Robin so this seems to be it for now!

#stranger things #robin buckley #maya hawke #stranger things 5 #stranger things 5 bts #stranger things 5 spoilers

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hypogryffin · 1 year

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ok but like so you know how portable had that one yukiko cameo. so like OBVI the remake is going to have p5 characters appear also <-straight copium. anyway here are my pitches

Image ID:

Three pages of rough sketches with colour blocks. Image 1 has Maruki (coloured blue) standing awkwardly with a seemingly nervous smile on his face, looking younger and wearing Gekkoukan High School's uniform. A smaller drawing next to him shows himself and Rumi (red) smiling and laughing together. The text next to them reads "If Maruki was school-age at the time of P3's story he'd be about 22-25 years old [during P5 canon]". The number 22 has an arrow pointing to it that reads "1st year HS", and 25 has another that says "3rd year HS". The text continues, "Since he's supposed to be older (I think), it wouldn't make sense for him to show up". A wailing emoji with its hands up in the air is added next to the block of text. From there, an arrow with the caption "But!" points to another sketch of Ichinose (green) in Gekkoukan's summer uniform. The message continues next to another drawing of Ichinose, this time in the regular/winter uniform, "I do think Ichinose is probably the right age for it! Definitely not because I've been wanting to draw her recently nope no siree". Further notes continue down, reading "One or two [ear] piercings, none on the face" with a drawing of an earlobe, "Shorter hair" with a dotted line and a sketch of scissors depicting that her hair is about shoulder-length, and finally, "She'd still be in her stoic era so no smiles here, LOL." Additionally, back near the drawings of Maruki, there is another sketch of Rumi in Gekkoukan's uniform, with a note that says, "Were Maruki and Rumi canonically high school sweethearts? Or did I just hallucinate that information"

Image 2: A drawing of Zenkichi (dark blue) in an unbuttoned suit. He has his hair in a ponytail, and his arms folded behind his back. The text next to him reads, "Zenkichi, approximately mid-to-late 30s. / He can't be aware of the Dark Hour for [the sake of] continuity in Strikers, obviously, but he could still be reasonably(?) involved? I.E. assisting Kurosawa with something? Maybe related to a request from Elizabeth, a social link story(???), or main story things like [A block that reads "Spoilers" in all capital letters]'s death or Fuuka's "disappearance". I don't know, man." There are a few asides written next to it, reading "Maybe [he and Kurosawa are] friends" and "Investigating Apathy Syndrome?" respectively. Then the text continues, "Could be [Public Security], or maybe a career police officer (as in pre-promotion or something, I don't know I'm not a pig, myself". An additional doodle has the information "Akane would be about 7 years old" alongside a drawing of Zenkichi blabbering senselessly about his daughter, showing off a set of pictures, to the Persona 3 Protagonist (light blue), who looks awkward and has "Go away" written behind him as his internal thoughts several times.

Also, there is a sketch of Mitsuru (red) in plainclothes, smiling as she holds up two tickets, saying "I have received tickets to a gallery by Madarame Ichiryuusai, I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me there." The next drawing is of Yukari (pink) smiling and looking up from the book she's reading, though visibly apprehensive. She says, "Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds fun!" While her inner monologue yells "That sounds so fucking boring holy shit". It then cuts to her gripping the protagonist's shoulders, saying, "I need you to come with me to this stupid ass art museum I can't say no to Mitsuru-senpai." The protagonist says, "I, like, could not want to do anything less-" but is interrupted by Yukari adding, "I'll buy you dinner after and you can bring Aegis." The protagonist says, "Deal."

Image 3: A drawing of the lobby of the dorms. The protagonist (blue) sits on one of the couches with Koromaru (grey) sleeping with his head in his lap. The TV is on, showing a picture of someone standing at a podium with microphones pointed at them, and blares "Diet member Shido Masayoshi makes bold new proposal on foreign policy..." The protagonist watches, seeming disinterested. The next drawing is of the Big Bang Burger logo, with someone saying, "'Big Bang Burger'?", getting the reply, "Yeah, they just opened a shop last week. Wild Duck's got competition now, I guess." The next panel is of Ryoji Mochizuki (teal) and the protagonist standing together, revealing Ryoji to have been the first one to speak, now continuing, "Eeh, wow, that name is so lame!" as he smiles genially. He then turns to the protagonist, pointing to himself as he says, "Hey, you wanna try it? I'll pay!" The protagonist shrugs and says, "Sure."

End ID.

#persona 3 #p3 #persona 3 reload #p3re #persona 5 #p5 #minato arisato #makoto yuki #takuto maruki #persona rumi #kuon ichinose #ichinose kuon #zenkichi hasegawa #hasegawa zenkichi #sakuya shiomi #wont tag anyone else lol #i will fill the p5s tag my fucking self if i have to #described

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thedreadvampy · 1 year

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fwiw if you want to introduce more variety to how you draw faces I strongly suggest thinking really hard about noses

noses give you so much information about someone! they're usually one of the first things which define how we think of someone's face (after all - they're by far the feature that takes up most of it).

They change as we age - they take up more of our faces and move away from our mouths. babies almost all have round little tips of noses with no definable bridges, while depending on the type of nose an adult has they may get bonier and sharper or softer and flatter with age. nostrils widen, skin creases, eyes drop back from the bridge. I think often people try to age faces by putting wrinkles around an unchanged nose and it throws stuff off.

They're also a really racialised feature. like there is no one Black Nose or East Asian Nose or Desi Nose or White Nose, obviously, there's huge variation within and across ethnic groups, but there's a lot of overlapping trends in nose shape for different ethnicities and it's often a big contributing factor to people drawing characters of colour that kind of look like palette-swapped white people? like there are so many nose shapes that are super common but because they're relatively uncommon for white people, they're just not the noses people often learn to draw as standard.

but also a diversity of noses says so much about a character, the same way that their build or eye shape or face shape does. like. a long sharp narrow nose in a bony face? a round, slightly flat nose on a face full of smile lines? an upturned, softly rounded nose with freckles and no bridge? a long hooked nose with a curved tip? a crooked, broken nose? a bulbous, reddened nose? noses can imply strength, weakness, innocence, experience, childishness, wisdom, suffering, whatever you want to get out of a character design. don't neglect the nose!!!!

and like. obviously depending on how stylised the art is there's going to be information lost, but that's the thing - there's a real upper limit on how much variation you can put in eyes or mouths or face shape in simpler styles without making it overly realistic, but you can go really nuts on nose shapes! even with just one or two lines or one simple shape you can imply so many different noses by changing little things!

and yet really often I look at people who are trying to broaden variety on faces and they mix up everything except the noses, which stay like a circle or a triangle or a line or whatever their standard noise is, and as a result there's still this sameness to all the faces.

bc eyes and mouths and jawlines are all very well but noses are, in my opinion, the most varied part of the face. I can't think of any two people I know who have the same shape of nose except maybe me and my identical twin.

(and I'm not talking big Vs small, or hooked vs snub vs straight vs flat. really look at people's noses in real life cause there are so many variables)

(some leading questions under the cut)

how big is it? how long from the front? how far away from the face does it sit in profile?

does it have a rounded tip? how round? some people's noses have a profile that's basically a triangle point, some people's are basically a round tip with no visible cartilage above it, and everything in between.

What's going on at the bridge? in profile, is there a clear dip in between the brow and the bridge of the nose, or does the brow come straight down to meet it (or, if you have a kind of striking profile like Hangman Adam Page who looks like an early 2000s DreamWorks character, is your profile one line from brow to the top of your nose)? from the front, is there a clearly defined edge to the bridge of your nose or does it curve out? how much of the space between your eye sockets is nose, on a range from 100% to 0%?

What shape is the top of the nose in profile? Is it a straight line from bridge to tip? does it curve down? does it curve up like a ski slope? does it come to a sharp stop and angle out into a round tip?

does it have sharp edges? does it look bony, with a pronounced ridge? or is it all soft lines? Does it meet the cheek at an angle or at a curve?

does the tip come to a sharp point, or to a curve? does it angle up (so you can see the nostrils from the front), or down (so you can only see the line of the nose)?

how big is the base of the nose compared to the bridge? from the front, does it flare wide across the face at the bottom, or is it almost a straight line down? is it broader higher up the nose?

what are the nostrils doing? how big are they? are they round, or slit-shaped? do they sit behind the tip, with the noise all contained in a single pyramid shape, or do they sit to the sides? do they sit along the face, point forward towards the tip, or point up higher than the tip?

how does the nose interact with the other features? does it dominate the face? is it a tiny wee thing? does it sit over a very long upper lip with a pronounced philtrum, or is it almost touching the mouth? How much of the space between the eyes is taken up by the bridge of the nose? do the eyebrows curve towards the nose, or meet them at a hard angle? if they wear glasses, where on the nose do they sit?

colouration - is it all the same colour, or pinker at the tip or over the bridge? are the insides of the nostrils visible, and are they pale or dark pink? does the top of the nose get more sun - is it darker?

surface details - are there creases at the bridge or around the nostrils and cheeks? are they from scowling (vertical) or laughing (horizontal)? does their nose scrunch up when they smile, or flare when they're angry? is there hair? freckles? piercings? scars or breaks?

like the nose, jaw and brow are the structure around which the rest of the face is built. if you get to a place in your art style where you're comfortable playing around with that then you immediately add so much more diversity and life and verisimilitude to your characters!

also noses are just great. like they're so fun to draw and there are so many different gorgeous noses! I'm so into noses that usually the way I find how I want a character to look is to draw the eyes, draw the nose, then redraw the eyes and build the whole face around the nose.

(this advice is coming from the fact that the most common compliment I get on my art is the diversity and believability of characters and I would say that's like 50-60% in the nose/brow)

#art tips #red said #i could offer some like. proper drawings. but i am at work just now.

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wongyuseokie · 2 years

Text

The One in Red | k.m.g

Summary: You had a plan for New Year, go out and find some hot guy, you found a hot guy, but he won't stop with his crappy puns and pick-up lines, but when he looks that good, you can ignore it.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 1530 words

Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: PWP, Strangers to Lovers(?)

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, bad puns, and terrible pickup lines. Mingyu is wearing THAT red suit. So that’s a warning. Kissing.

Smut Warnings: Public sex, sorta? They fuck in a closet. Unprotected sex (don’t do this in real life, this is fiction). Slightly rough sex, against a wall. Big Dick! Mingyu.

Authors Note 1: Thank you to @here4btsfics for beta'ing this fic for me. I love you so dearly 💕 also thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil @love-strike and @seungkwansphd for reading this and then yelling at me. hehehehe I love the dynamic, but really thank you all so so much for all the support as always 🥺🥰 Authors Note 2: tagging @baljinciaga because she asked 🥰 Banner Credits: @classicscreations Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2022. All rights reserved.

“This is so dumb,” you muttered aloud.

“Excuse me?” You turned around to see a handsome man, a man you only thought existed in celluloid and the pages of romance–erotic–novels.

“Eavesdrop much?” You shot back, making him grin.

“You spoke out loud to yourself, plus you said dumb,” he answered.

“I’m guessing you turned because it’s something you get called a lot?” You fired off, and he held his hands up in defence.

“Oh, ouch.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I just, ugh. I hate the forced merriment of New Year,” you admitted, and the stranger nodded.

“Well, what if I got you a drink to help drown the sorrows?” The man asked, and you shrugged.

“Or better, you got me one for calling me dumb?” He offered, and you pouted and nodded as he sat at the bar next to you.

“So, what's your name?” He asked.

“Y/N.”

“Pretty name for a pretty lady,” he responded, and you simply rolled your eyes.

“What about you?”

“Kim. Kim Mingyu,” he said, offering his hand to you, and you took it, shaking it lightly.

“You think you’re James Bond or something with that introduction?” You joked, and he shrugged.

“Possibly.”

“Well, like him, you have plenty of admirers,” you said, gesturing to a group of women and men who were ogling at him.

“To be fair, I don’t blame them,” you mumbled, the alcohol loosening your lips.

“Oh? I look good?” Mingyu asked.

“Oh, you know you’re hot, with this stupid red suit, and your stupid tits on display, and being tall and handsome,” you complained, making him grin.

“I heard stupid a lot,” Mingyu added.

“You’re incredibly hot, and I’m sure it makes anyone feel stupid,” you elaborated, making him nod as he took a sip of his drink.

“Well, you never told me why you’re here,” Mingyu said.

“Ugh, my friend dragged me here, but she found her catch of the night and ditched me,” you answered, and Mingyu frowned.

“That’s kind of shitty,” Mingyu noted, and you shrugged.

“To be fair, that was our ambitious plan, to look hot and get laid,” you admitted taking another sip of your drink.

“Well, the night is still young,” Mingyu observed.

“What about you? You’re hot, and I’m sure you have no problem getting someone, so why are you here?” You asked.

“Well. Honestly? I came here for a business thing, but then I saw you in this lovely dress, and I thought, ‘aww, we match,’ and I wanted to talk to you,” Mingyu replied, and you stared at him.

“You wanted to talk to me because I wore a dress the same colour as your suit?”

“Yep.”

“What if I wore a different colour?” You challenged.

“I’d still approach you. You’re beautiful,” Mingyu responded.

“What?” Mingyu asked when you smiled at him.

“You’re doing better than the other guy who hit on me,” you noted.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he was giving me terrible pickup lines,” you explained.

“Oh, but some can be decent,” Mingyu defended.

“Try me.”

“Tell me, are you tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all night.” Mingyu said, making you groan.

“Nope!”

“Do you have a map? ‘Cause I got lost in your eyes.”

“Hell, no. Mingyu, these are terrible,” you said, laughing as you swatted his arm, noting how buff he was and imagining what it’d feel like to hold those arms as he pounded into you.

“Well, I’m usually a lot more direct. I don’t like to waste time.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Mingyu finished his drink and inched closer to you, his lips ghosting your ears, his hand finding yours as he traced it.

“Kitten, you told me about what your plan was for tonight. Want to make it come true?” Mingyu asked, and you bit your lip to bite back a moan.

“Oh!”

“Unless you prefer crappy pickup lines, in that case, hey girl, is that a phone in your back pocket? Because that ass is calling me,” Mingyu said, and you let out a deep sigh, grabbed your drink and finished it.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?” Mingyu asked.

“You can help make my New Years' plan come true, and it’s only because you look sinfully good and not because any of your pickup lines worked,” you responded with a pout.

“Come on. We’re finding a room in this fancy bar,” Mingyu said, taking your hand and guiding you along with him. He moved smoothly, manoeuvring you out of the crowds and into the nearest storage room.

Mingyu locked the door behind you before turning to face you. Your back was pressed against a wall, and you were staring– well, undressing him with your eyes.

“Like what you see?” Mingyu asked, smirking.

“Shut up, you know you’re hot,” you muttered, making him laugh as he approached you.

“As are you, kitten. Do you know all I could see was red when you walked into this place tonight?” Mingyu teased.

“One more lame joke from you, and I’m leaving you with blue balls!” You threatened, making Mingyu grin.

“So you’ve been thinking about my balls?” Mingyu joked, making you sputter.

“Come here, kitten, let me taste how sweet that smart mouth is,” Mingyu said as his hands found your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. His soft lips met with yours and pulled you into a searing kiss. His lips moved against yours, and his grip around your waist tightened as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, making you moan, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned further into the kiss, and Mingyu’s hands slid down to your hips, and he pulled away from your lips.

“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded impatiently, making him grin.

“Fuck, you didn’t wear panties?” Mingyu asked as he hiked up your red dress to your waist.

“I can’t be having panty lines now, can I?” You teased.

“Yeah, clearly,” Mingyu mumbled as he moved to kneel.

“What are you doing?” You asked, making Mingyu stand up straight and stare at you.

“I need to prep you.”

“Don’t be cocky. I’ll be fine,” you argued, making him smirk.

“Very apt choice of words, kitten,” Mingyu responded with a grin.

“Can you just fuck me?” You whined, and Mingyu grinned as he quickly moved to push his trousers down, pulling his hard length out, hissing when the cool air hit his erect member.

“Gladly, kitten,” Mingyu responded as his arms found your waist. He easily lifted you into his arms, pressed you into the wall, and guided his thick length into you.

“Fuck,” you gasped. You whimpered in both pain and pleasure; he was so big.

“Could have used prep, right?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“With pleasure.”

“Pun intended?” You asked, and Mingyu only grinned in response.

“Of course, kitten,” Mingyu answered before thrusting into you.

Mingyu’s movements were rough and quick, but his thrusts were precise, and you were falling apart on his cock, embarrassingly quickly.

“You sound so fucking wet. Can you hear yourself?” Mingyu asked, his lips ghosting your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck. You could only whimper in response.

“Imagine if you squirted on my cock. God, I’ll walk back in there with your cum all over my trousers,” Mingyu continued to spew absolute filth as he fucked you, making you moan at the possibility.

“Inside,” you moaned, and Mingyu swore he could have cum right then and there.

“Fuck, okay,” Mingyu breathed out as he took a second to collect himself and then continued to pound into your cunt.

“So good,” you moaned as you held onto his neck, possibly scratching him, as he thrust into you. One particularly hard thrust sent you ever the edge, making you cum, whimpering, and clenching around him. Mingyu came a few seconds after you and held you in his arms.

The two of you just stayed that way for a few seconds, and you were about to speak when you heard muffled cheering from outside. You looked at Mingyu, confused, who simply smiled at you.

“Happy New Year,” Mingyu said as he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, making you smile into the kiss.

“Well, I guess I started the year with a bang?” You joked, making Mingyu laugh.

“Who’s making the shitty jokes now?” Mingyu asked.

“It’s the sex. Your crappy humour is contagious,” you defended, and Mingyu only smiled.

“Uh, do you want to put me down?” You asked.

“Oh fuck, sorry!”

Mingyu gently placed you down on the floor, helping to pull your dress down as he pulled his trousers up.

“Pity, I didn’t soak your trousers,” you mumbled as you patted out the creases in your dress.

“I mean, there’s always a next time?” Mingyu said, his voice low and hopeful. You placed a hand on his toned bicep, making him turn to face you.

“Next time?”

“Well, how about you spend the first day of the new year with me?” Mingyu asked.

“Oh?” You teased. “What’s in it for me?”

“More orgasms, shitty jokes, and you’ll not want to spend it with anyone else,” Mingyu responded.

“Lead the way.”

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idolatrybarbie · 11 months

Text

pairing: marcus pike x fem!reader

word count & rating: 5.4k | explicit - 18+ minor free zone!

summary: it's not stalking if it's a casual curiosity. you would never do anything...you're just nosey. lonely, too, maybe. but that isn't your fault. yes—this is fine. only stalking if he notices. so what exactly happens when he does?

warnings: social isolation, touch starvation, marcus pike is a virgin (there is no virgin-shaming here - do not fear), alcohol, themes of alienation, allusions to failed relationships, everyone in this story is very normal, smut - kissing, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, handjob, protected penetrative vaginal sex(!!!), premature ejaculation, body worship (with mouth), exhibitionism, implied male masturbation, vaginal fingering, very enthusiastic oral sex (f receiving), cum eating, cuddling.

notes: i was depressed and am sick (again) but yesterday was a really good day, so you get a fic. @wannab-urs wanted to see virgin marcus - here he is. this slowly and subtly became a little more kinky than i intended it to lol? my own cat makes an appearance and yes he is really that old. this is also my 400th post to this blog. woohoo, enjoy! :)

He’s your neighbour. Kind of cute. Okay, lie—very cute. You don’t have much on him otherwise. He moved in about three months ago, right at summer’s end. At first, you thought he was a student. You see him around the house and the neighbourhood during weekdays, so that rules out a college schedule.

He likes to read books in the park. Thick novels with colourful covers and lengthy titles. You would think that he’s showing off, peacocking with the way that he’s got a new book in his hands every week. But no, the reading isn’t for show. He moulds them to his liking, dogears the pages and folds over paperbacks; things someone doesn’t do when they’ve got a book in their hands as a lure, a line.

Surprisingly, he seems to be single. You aren’t exactly sure why. There’s no short supply of wealthy single moms in the area, and the man himself is truly gorgeous. Maybe he’s recently divorced, or gay. Maybe it’s his mom’s old house and she’s passed, and he’s only here to settle things up before skipping town again.

You find yourself watching his windows at night, never able to catch a glimpse of him. The house glows orange with the lights still on inside—a welcoming lighthouse in the cold and murky sea of suburbia. When you start thinking like that, watching his house for more than too long, you send yourself to bed. The very last thing you want to be is the obsessed stalker across the street.

A part of you can’t help it. Your other neighbours, despite barely knowing them, don’t seem to like you very much. You have a feeling a certain washing-your-car-in-a-bikini-top incident at the end of this year’s boiling hot August might have something to do with it. With no friends to speak of in this cookie cutter county, you find yourself lonely. When you don’t think about it too hard, that’s justification enough.

This morning, you wake up before the sun. Sparing your eyes the bright glare of house lights, you use a near-dead flashlight to see down the hall. The cat in your care this week lives on a strict schedule. At fourteen human years—eighty in feline—Bender has grown accustomed to routine: breakfast at six-thirty, talk television at eight. Later mornings to early afternoons are a little less structured, leaving him to wander the house or settle in for a nap. Then he eats again at four, followed up by water and a monitored trip to the litter box. After that, he usually sits on the cushioned back of your couch to watch movies with you.

His owner is away in Florida with her grand kids. She’s been leaving him with you for the past six months whenever she needs time away from Virginia to let loose and explore. Bender isn’t really my cat, she’d told you the first time, but her daughter is in New York for school and couldn’t take him this year. You secretly hope that she never does. He’s excellent company.

Professional pet-sitting hadn’t ever been a career that you’d really considered. You’re still not sure if this is a forever thing or a temporary gig to pay the bills. Really, you’d like to put your degree to use in some capacity. But after being laid off so abruptly…well, you aren’t itching to get back out into the workforce quite yet. Especially not when sweet older women pay you a hundred dollars a day to revel in the company of cuddly creatures.

They aren’t all easy like the old man. Charlie, the St. Bernard you sat last month, is clingier than any ex you’ve ever had. The Fogelmans’ Dalmatian is nice to have for a day or two, but thirty minute runs twice each morning go from exhausting to borderline impossible by day three. Animals are exhausting. When you aren’t sitting, you’re sleeping.

Peeling back the tin lid on a can of wet food, you can already hear the light tap of Bender’s small paws on the floor. He joins you in the kitchen, waiting as he watches you spoon half of the can’s contents onto a dessert plate. You soften it, making it easier to chew before you slide the food over to him. He always takes a comically big first bite.

“If only they could all be like you, huh?”

Bender doesn’t answer, of course. He’s a cat.

Good Morning America rambles away on your flat-screen. You’re waiting for Bender’s owner, his travel carrier already baited with treats. The unopened food cans and his toys are packed away in a grocery bag by the door. When Anne-Marie sends you a text that she’s in the neighbourhood, you gently lead the cat into the carrier. The grated door clinks shut behind him.

Poking a finger through the slats, Bender meets you with his paw.

“Come visit me soon, alright?” you ask. “Maybe your mom can take a long trip to Canada or something.”

Anne-Marie doesn’t have to knock for you to know she’s there, her short shadow visible through the frosted glass beside the door. You stand and turn to open it, greeting her with a smile. She asks after you and tells you about her flight in.

“I hope he’s been a good boy,” she says.

“An angel, as usual,” you reply.

“He’s a little bit of a grump sometimes.”

“Perfectly fine with me. Bender’s always welcome back here.”

Anne-Marie takes the bag of food and toys first, tossing it into the front passenger seat before returning for the carrier. Handing it over, you watch as she walks down the steps and loads him into the backseat of her SUV. She buckles Bender’s glorified plastic box securely in the back, getting in herself. Anne-Marie waves at you from behind the wheel. You wave back.

Watching the vehicle pull away with your furry friend in tow, you see your neighbour’s house for the first time today. The weather is cooling off as winter grows closer. You don’t see him out much anymore, except when he gets home from who-knows-where. Even then, it’s only a glimpse of his short walk to the front door. Today, he’s sitting on his porch. With a fleece sweater zipped to his chin and a vest hugging his torso, you watch as pulls on a pair of muddy boots.

Cold air breezes past you, the draft pulling you back to reality. Just as you’re about to close the door, he peers up. And looks…directly at you. Then your neighbour smiles in acknowledgment.

Making eye contact for a second too long, you shut the door quickly. Leaning against the surface, you replay the last thirty seconds in your head. The car pulled away, he was sat there…he pulled on his boots and saw—

Three sharp knocks land on the other side of your door. You’re too much of an optimist, hoping it’s Anne-Marie again. Glancing at the glass from here, you find the realistic answer. It’s him, up close and personal this time—for the first time. Suddenly, you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

He knocks once again, clearly waiting. There’s nowhere else for you to go. The man is standing at the only reasonable exit point. Caving, you take a breath and open the door.

The first thing you notice is his smell. Earthy-sweetness lingers with him as the familiar stranger smiles at you. Again.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hello,” you return. “…Can I help you?”

“I figured that I’ve lived across the street for a while but never introduced myself,” the man says. He holds out a hand and you take it, his broad palm warming yours. “I’m Marcus.”

You tell him your name, still shaking his hand. When you let go, the smile falters.

“So Marcus, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar,” he says.

You glance around the doorway, unsure how to respond. “Um—”

“I’m joking.”

“Oh,” you nod. Shifting your weight from right to left, the tiniest of squeaker toys lands under your foot.

“You've got a dog, right?”

“Sort of,” you say. “I pet-sit sometimes. They aren’t really mine.”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to bring ‘em out for a walk, but I guess—”

“I could still go for a walk,” you say, the words rushing out.

The smile returns to Marcus’ face, strong as ever as he nods. “Sure. Great.”

“Just give me one second.”

You backtrack into the front hall, pulling open your coat closet for a jacket and your shoes. It only takes a minute before you’re joining Marcus on your porch. He leads you down the steps, taking a right onto the sidewalk. This is the direction he drives in from.

“So, pet-sitting,” he says. “Passion or hobby?”

“Well, I get paid for it. Not really a hobby.”

“Monetized hobby,” Marcus corrects himself. “Or is this what you do professionally?”

“In that case, hobby. I lost my job a couple of months ago. Still sort of figuring it out,” you say. Marcus nods. Then you ask, “What about you?”

“Why don’t you guess?”

You hum, thinking back on what you know about him. The car he drives is new, a dark SUV with tinted windows. Whatever he does must pay pretty well. He lives alone, fairly solitary; no kids, no spouse. You’ve seen him bring in a maximum of three grocery bags at once, and yet he hasn’t starved, so he probably doesn’t cook a lot. Sometimes it’s like he’s never home, and others he’s ever-present. That’s a pretty erratic schedule for a business professional.

Giving up on a real answer, you say, “Male stripper.”

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “I wish.” You and him both.

“A cop?” you ask.

“Warmer,” Marcus says. “FBI agent.”

“You’re joking, right? Are you even allowed to tell normal people those things?”

“I mean, sure. You’re not a terrorist, are you?” he asks.

“No,” you say.

“Then we’re fine,” Marcus says. He formally introduces himself. SSA Marcus Pike.

“So, Marcus the FBI agent. What draws you to Fairfax County?”

“The commute. And the house is nice, too.”

“You don’t strike me as a white picket fence kind of guy.” Looking out at the neighbourhood, that’s all there is.

“You don’t seem the type either,” he says. Touché. “When I first started planning the move, it wasn’t supposed to be just me. But uh…some things changed, and I’d already bought the house. Can’t let it go to waste.”

There’s something raw there. It softens his voice a little, taking away that clutch of confidence that seemingly brought him to your door.

You say, “I guess it’s better here than another shit-box apartment.”

“Right? That was my whole life back in Texas,” Marcus says.

“Texas?”

“Not born nor bred,” he says. “I worked in the Art Theft department at the bureau there.”

“Working on crafts for the kiddos?” you ask.

“More like nabbing art thieves, stopping criminal smugglers. Stuff like that.”

You hate to admit that this man probably has more courage in his pinky finger than you possess in your entire being, but at least now you can justify the curiosity.

“So you’re good at catching the bad guys, then,” you say.

“More so good at noticing things,” Marcus explains.

The air changes slightly, goosebumps rising along your skin. You ignore any potential implication. “Like what? Human behaviour?”

“Sure,” Marcus says. “Small stuff. Like if someone’s lying…or if I’m being watched.”

When Marcus doesn’t say anything else, you pause. A finely manicured lawn as your backdrop, you stare at him, disbelieving. You can’t imagine what you look like—the pictured definition of mortification.

“Look, I’m really sorry if I creeped you out. I just—I don’t get out a lot without a job and all, and I don’t really have any friends here. You seemed interesting, but none of that’s an excuse and I should’ve come over and said h—”

He says your name, stopping your rambling. “It’s fine,” Marcus says. “A little odd but…flattering?”

With your heart racing in your chest, you scrub a hand over your face. “Oh my god,” you sigh. “I really am sorry, Marcus. My life isn’t very…normal anymore. It makes you do some weird things.”

You can’t remember the last time you were outside before today. Direct grocery delivery took away any need to get out to the store, and with it your last real connection to the outside world. Except the pets. They keep you from losing it entirely.

“We’ve all got our fair share,” Marcus says. Why is he being so cool about this? He should be calling the police, or in this case, himself.

So you ask, “Why are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Well, if I don’t then you might not want to come over for dinner later."

At seven o’clock, you make your way across the street to Marcus’ front door. You hesitate in knocking, checking the time on your phone again. He says it’s fine, but maybe this is a mistake. You’re not over the embarrassment from earlier. You really don’t know how to carry out social interactions anymore. Maybe it’s for the best if you turn around and quietly slip back into your house…

Before you get the chance, the door before you opens up. Marcus has changed. He’s wearing less layers this time, only a simple white Henley shirt and a dark pair of jeans. Cartoon sharks bite the ankles of his socked feet, and you find yourself smiling when you finally look at his face. God, this man is fucking gorgeous. It almost makes you mad.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey, come on in.”

He stretches his arm to open the door wider, stepping aside to make room. You take your boots off at the door and note the details of his home. The walls are cherry red, different to the sage green of your place across the street. The wall space in the kitchen is filled with paintings where yours stay bare, all of them neatly hung—Frida Kahlo and Elmina Moisan are the artists you recognize.

Marcus tells you that his mother is Chilean, that he was born over here once his American father could get her stateside. They moved down to Mexico when he finished high school. He’s visited every summer since, and each time he brings back a painting. There are only four here.

"You're missing a few," you say.

"The rest are upstairs," Marcus says.

Maybe you'll see them later.

Tonight, he's making fried rice and soy sauce chicken.

"Or See Yao Gai, if you want to get fancy with it," he says, concentrating on the pan.

Watching Marcus work over the stove is mesmerizing. He knows what to do and exactly when to do it, never letting anything burn or sit too long. You feel more like you're watching a professional chef than a guy that cooks "on occasion.” Even the way he washes rice has technique.

Jesus Christ, get it together.

Before plating the food, Marcus offers you a drink. He pours himself a small glass of something red.

"I'll have what you're having," you nod.

He sits across from you at the table. You imagine yourselves as your respective houses, the cloth runner that sits in the middle of the table acting as the paved street. They say people look like their pets, but homes take on characteristics of the people who live in them. Everything here is warm, like his hand. Vibrant and pleasant. The place smells like him too, all sweet and saffron.

The first bite of dinner explodes with flavour in your mouth.

"This is fucking delicious," you mumble, still chewing.

"Thank you."

"Of course." After a sip of wine, you say, "I mostly sustain myself off of hot pockets and spinach wraps. This is like, gourmet."

"You don't cook at all?" Marcus asks.

"Eh," you shrug. "I used to. A lot, actually. But it's not the same when—"

When what? When there's no love in it? Something like that. There's no one to feed, no one to come home to. So who fucking cares?

"When you're only cooking for yourself."

"I understand." They should sound like empty words, but something in Marcus' eyes tells you he really does.

"It's just…hard, I guess." Oh no, where are you taking this? "To keep caring? I’m sort of—"

"Going through the motions?" he asks.

"Yeah. Exactly," you say.

Marcus scoops another forkful of rice off his plate, chewing before he swallows. He says, "Well you know, I'm right across the street. Maybe twenty feet away? So if you need to, you can always go through the motions over here."

You don’t know exactly what he means, but it sounds nice. Someone to talk to. "One day I might just take you up on that."

When you're both finished, you help Marcus with the dishes and re-organising the table. You're showing yourself to the door with him in tow. You open it and cross over the threshold, the cold hitting you all at once. The sky is much darker than it was only an hour ago. A streetlamp behind you highlights Marcus’ face just so.

"Thanks for dinner. For all of it," you say. "It's been a long time."

"You're always welcome," Marcus says. And then he kisses you. Your hand moves over his shoulders, wrenching him forward to pull his body closer. You both stumble back into his house, the door closing behind you.

His hands remain respectfully north of the equator until you grab them, pulling them down to your hips. You break away from the kiss to say, "I don't usually…um. But do you want to—"

"Yes," he whispers. That's all the confirmation you need.

The combined stumble up to his bedroom has you bumping into walls, almost tripping on the landing. Marcus’ hands are hurried across your body. He can’t seem to make up his mind, palming your ass before he slides his hands over your ribs, squeezing your breast. Right outside his bedroom, he stops you.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says.

“Sex on the first date?”

“Sex…period.” You watch the way he cringes at himself, instinctively holding him closer.

Carefully, you say, “We don’t have to.”

“I want to. I just—it’s good to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“It’s fine,” you say, giving him a kiss. “And we can take it slow.”

Marcus nods.

Inside the room, he lets you take the lead. You begin with your clothes, shedding your top, socks, and pants. Marcus mirrors you, leaving him shirtless in blue underwear. He’s already on his way to being fully hard, a bulge visible beneath the fabric.

Standing in front of his bed, you wave him over with a light come here. He’s drawn to you, a snake to its charmer, strong arms encircling you in his hold. You revel in the warmth of him. Marcus’ closeness has you leaning into his body, skin-to-skin. It has been so long since you’ve had this. You can’t remember the last time you’ve even had a hand to hold, an arm to brush by accident—so you take it. You revel in it, only god knowing the next time the opportunity will present itself.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asks, breath warm against your ear.

“Yeah, uh… I’m sorry,” you say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve touched somebody.”

The admission makes your stomach twist, Marcus’ face relaxing into a softer shape. Instead of the usual look of pity, he keeps his expression open. When he kisses you again, it’s long and slow; languid passes of his tongue against yours as the pair of you fall to the middle of the duvet. Marcus settles against you, assuring that his weight doesn’t crush yours before he peppers pecks across your mouth and forehead.

You can feel him hard against your thigh, steadily rocking himself into your skin with every smooch. He asks, “Can I touch you?” and you breathe a yes.

His right hand moves from its place on your torso to glide down the side of your body, cupping your ass before Marcus slides two fingers into the band of your panties. He smooths the pads of his fingers over the skin below your stomach, dipping below your pelvis to feel you.

Marcus brushes against your clit. You tilt your hips higher, chasing after the sensation.

“Here?” he asks.

“Little to the left?” you whisper. Adjusting accordingly, your breath catches when he finds it. “Yeah, there.”

Marcus rubs at it with his fingers, drawing tight circles around your clit as you wedge your face in between his shoulder and jaw.

“Can I kiss your neck?”

“Sure.”

Slowly, mindlessly, you peck at Marcus’ skin to ground yourself. Closer to his ear, he smells powdery, like vanilla. You’d like to know if it’s cologne or all him. You gasp when his fingers move to collect some of your wetness, returning to your clit and doubling down on the light pressure. Tongue darting past your lips, you lick him. He groans.

“Does that feel good?”

Gathering your thoughts takes a moment. “Yes, Marcus—don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He watches you now, eyes closed as you’re worked closer to the edge. With Marcus’ free hand, he slides the strap of your bra off your shoulder, pulling the fabric away from your breast.

“Use your mouth,” you instruct him.

Marcus doesn’t need to be told twice, ducking low to take your nipple into his mouth. His lips and fingers working in tandem as your body narrows in on the edge of pleasure. You keep a hand at the back of his head as he licks and sucks your nipple. When he takes the sensitive bud between his teeth, you cry out and tug at Marcus’ hair. You push his mouth closer, closer—you wish he would eat you.

It doesn’t take very long for you to cum. A few more tugs of his teeth at your nipple and a harsher pass over your clit has you seizing against him, lips parted as a harsh noise leaves your mouth. Marcus slows his fingers to an eventual stop. When you look at him again, he’s eyeing the stickiness left between them.

You hold his wrist, pulling it to your mouth and slipping his fingers onto your tongue. Marcus watches you clean them intently, like he’s committing the sight to memory. When your done, he holds your face and kisses your nose. You laugh.

“What else do you want to do?” he asks.

You slide a hand down his stomach, lightly prodding his belly button just to see him flinch. The smile he gives you makes you ache.

Hand hovering close to his clothed cock, you say, “I wanna touch you.”

He nods. “Please.” The single word comes out high and whiny, stoking that fire in your belly once again.

Slipping a hand into his briefs, you feel the wetness at the head of his cock as it smears against the elastic. You start there, taking the sticky tip into your palm to gather some of Marcus’ precum. When you work your hand over the rest of him, the glide is easier, his skin like slick velvet underneath you. It’s your turn to watch as his eyes flutter closed, mouth twisted into a pout as Marcus breathes hard through his nose.

“You can make noise, baby. Let me hear you,” you say.

Marcus gives you a quick nod, eyes opening again when you squeeze him at the base of his shaft. He moans, long and low, lips parted beautifully. You speed up, watching the effects of the faster pace as he curls further into your body. The slope of his nose drags against the skin of your shoulder as he breathes you in.

“Fuck,” Marcus whispers. His curses are said softly into your skin. Suddenly, his upper half draws away from you. “Fuck, wait, wait—”

You don’t realize he’s cumming until the first stripe of spend lands across your hip. Marcus groans, a reluctant purr from the back of his throat that mixes in with another low, “Fuuuuck.” Your hand frozen around him, you wait until he’s done to move.

Immediately, Marcus withdraws from you entirely. His eyes are glued to the cum on your skin, face twisted with something unreadable.

“Hey,” you say, touching your clean hand to his. He looks up at you. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I’m really sorry,” Marcus mutters.

“Why?” you ask. With the shake of your head, you join him closer to the end of the bed. You slide your fingers through the mess of his spend, bringing them to your lips. Again, he watches as you clean it up. “Totally natural. Normal. You felt good, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“That’s all that matters. I felt good too.”

“Do you still want to…” he trails off.

“If you want to do more, I have no objections,” you say. “And if not.” With a shrug, you quirk your lips up. There’s no pressure here. You’re grateful to have him at all tonight.

“I have an idea,” Marcus says. He shakes off the funk, shoulders rolling back again easily.

“I’d love to hear it.”

Noses close enough to touch, your hands never leave his skin as Marcus confides in you his thoughts. When you say yes, he positions himself below you. Starting at your ankles, he nuzzles his face against your skin, slowly moving upwards as he presses kisses to your calves. Eye-level with your left knee, he readjusts your leg. He lightly slides his tongue over the slot of skin behind the joint, pulling giggles from you as you squirm at the feeling.

From here, Marcus makes sure to take his time. He alternates between soft, wet kisses and flat licks up your thighs. He noses along the sensitive skin, rocking into the mattress every once in a while.

“This is probably bad timing…” he trails off. You wait for Marcus to continue, but he’s too preoccupied licking at the skin of your mid-thigh. Running your hand through his hair, you try to capture his focus again.

“Marcus?”

He looks up at you, those beautiful brown eyes melting your heart and sending it dripping down to your cunt. “I’ve known the whole time. That you were watching me.” Then Marcus returns between your legs, nose at the crux of skin between your thigh and where you need him most.

You can barely map out your words. The anticipation is killing you. “You—you did?”

“Mhm,” he hums. He’s so close now.

“You never said anything.” The bridge of his nose presses directly against you, your hips stuttering against his face. “I would’ve…god, I couldn’t stop,” you confess.

“I kind of liked it,” he whispers to your pussy—a secret between them.

You groan when his nose brushes your clit again, breaking into a light pant when Marcus licks a fat stripe across the lips of your cunt. His words short-circuit your brain. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining Marcus in this very room, touching himself as you unknowingly watch him in the dark. All those nights with the lights left on. Is that what he was doing?

Marcus slides his tongue directly over your pussy, prodding with care. Forcing yourself to look, your gaze falls from the ceiling to his lowered form. He’s already watching you, drinking in every bite of your lip and crease in your forehead. With your attention on him again, Marcus doubles down on his efforts, making out with your cunt as you whine.

“Please, please, please. Marcus—inside, can you use your fingers?”

“Anything,” he says, slipping two inside of you carefully. “Anything you want.”

They move in tandem with his tongue. Finally having something to grip and clench around has the heat of your second orgasm growing to a full forest fire. Picturing yourself now, you wonder if any of your other neighbours have taken an interest in the new guy in town. If they’re watching now, catching a glimpse of you through his window. The thought has you moaning again, picturing inches of soft, revealed skin and Marcus’ hands on you through the eyes of a stranger.

Marcus fucking you in the dark SUV that occupies the driveway, taking you against the translucent accent window of your front hall. Privacy with that hint of exposure. The delicious subtlety of risk.

Maybe you kind of like it too.

Marcus sucks on your clit and the sensation consumes you, flames licking up your spine. You cum with a shudder and a curse. He slows his hand down, removing his index and middle from you to share another kiss.

“I’d like you inside me,” you whisper.

Teeth gnaw at your insides. You crave the closeness, his warmth. Leaning to the side of the mattress, Marcus pulls open his bedside drawer. He fishes a condom from its depths.

“You’re prepared,” you say with a smile.

Marcus shrugs as he carefully tears the wrapper. “I was a boy scout.”

You sit up to help him put it on, spitting in your palm before you wrap it around his length. “Of course you were.”

He watches your movements, rolling the plastic on at the head before you remove your hand. Marcus slides the condom down the rest of him, keeping the end pinched.

“I was expecting brownie points for that presentation,” he says.

You lean up to meet him on your knees, teasing him with the promise of another kiss. You just miss his lips with your own, planting a peck at the corner of his mouth.

“You don’t get a prize for watching your hot English teacher roll one onto a banana.”

Leveraging his shoulders, you have him seated and straddled in one swift move. Marcus sucks in a gasp as you hover your cunt over him, slicking his cock with your body. He holds himself, lining up to let you sink down easily. The stretch is slight, feeling a pinch as he splits you open. Grasping your shoulders, Marcus moans into the plate of your chest.

Grinding on him slowly, you pet his hair and hold the heat of his face to your skin. “There you go,” you sigh. “How’re you feeling?”

You squeeze around him right as Marcus opens his mouth to answer, words replaced by stuttering breaths. "Good, good. So good,” he says. “Feeling you…fuck. You’re beautiful.” Marcus rocks his hips up into you, taking over the pace as he grows a little frantic. The friction of short hair at the base of him keeps you sated, enjoying the feel as he follows his release.

“Think of you all the time,” he continues. “See you out and—god, ah—you’re always so beautiful. Shit… Always alone. I just—”

Marcus grinds into you a few more times before he spills into the condom, moaning into the kiss you give him. You stay together like that for a minute, reveling in the feeling of him. Then you slide off his lap, Marcus’ limp dick slipping from you. He stands to take the condom off and disappears into the en suite bathroom. When he returns, the two of you bundle up under the covers.

He lets you be little spoon, his hands swiping softly over your stomach. Marcus traces little shapes beside your belly button, lips meeting the top notch of your spine.

“How was that?” you ask, breaking the soft silence.

“An excellent first time,” he says. “More…more than I imagined it could be. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.” You bring your own hand to the arm that wraps around you, feeling him. “It’s kind of a two-way street. I haven’t—I’m not really accustomed to closeness anymore.” His grasp on you has your head abuzz, high on his touch. Then you ask, “You said you saw me?”

“Oh, right,” Marcus says, remembering. “Saw you around the neighbourhood. I was mostly impressed you were able to keep a handle on that Dalmatian without turning into the evil coat lady.” His corny joke still makes you laugh, one more for the night, even as you shake your head. “And…I don’t know. I never saw you with anyone. I kept wanting to come over and say hello. Say anything, really.”

“I would’ve liked that,” you say. “Would still like that. If you came and talked to me.” Talking, fucking, going through the motions.

“I think we’re a little past that,” he says.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ll always come talk to you.” A beat of silence. “Just you and me, like two lonely people.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #fic: lover be sweet

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Note

Horniness never sleeps 🫡

I want Firefighter Rooster to fuck my face after a stressful shift.

** extremely loud sounds of me falling down the stairs ** … I may have subconsciously somehow sent this to myself because we are BEYOND being on the same page about this and it just makes me giggle bc like…

This is the same guy who’s pulling puppies out of storm drains and handing them back to little girls with a huge grin on his face, the same guy who’s helping old ladies cross the road and talking to old veterans at the bar for hours, the same guy who’ll always always always answer any kid’s question about his job with a big smile and a professional attitude.

He’s exactly the kind of guy that your parents would probably want you to bring home, when you want him to be.

But, he’s also the guy who comes home and presses all of his weight into your back, arms draped loosely around you, mumbling something into your ear along the lines of, “Feel like helping me out a little, baby girl?”

You’ll tease him, giving him a bright-eyed smile and asking him what with, like you don’t already know what’s poking you in the back. He would take your no on the chin and leave it at that, if that was your answer.

Today, it isn’t. Bradley loves his job — adores it in fact. He loves his team, he loves what he does and he likes feeling like he’s doing something worthwhile. But, his boss can be a real ball buster sometimes and that was exactly the issue today.

Just bullshit work for bullshit reasons, and it’s got Bradley wound tighter than normal. Even as you’re unbuckling his belt, you can still feel that he isn’t quite as relaxed as you’d like him to be. So, you’ve got two options.

You could take him to bed, make him close his eyes and suck his dick, real slow — really let him unwind and calm down a little bit. That’s always fun. Today, you decide to do the opposite — with someone as kind as he is, he doesn’t express that temper of his often.

Dropping to your knees on the kitchen tile, the faint ache there is something to deal with later. He exhales softly as you take him into your mouth, just like normal, your lips wrapped around him, just sucking on his flushed tip like a lollipop.

“That’s nice,” He hums, resting his hand on the kitchen counter behind your head. “Feels good.”

nd you just look up at him, all sweet and everything, and just take his free hand and knot it safely into your hair, then push just slightly. His lips quirking, he catches on quickly, tightening his grip on your roots and pushing himself experimentally deeper into your mouth.

Lips parted, his cheeks flushed a pretty terracotta colour, he holds you there with his dick grazing the back of your throat until tears are brimming in your eyes, then he pulls back at lets you breathe.

“Just squeeze my leg if you’re done, yeah?” He breathes out, eyes darkened with lust as he taps the tip of his cock on your glistening lips. You nod eagerly, flicking your tongue teasingly over the underside of his tip before you take him into your mouth again.

Swallowing, he cups the back of your head in his hands and rocks his hips slowly forwards, breathing out slowly through his nose as he watches his cock fill your mouth. Again and again, building up pace, feeling your throat squeeze at his tip with each thrust.

Tears spilling out onto your cheeks as you moan around him, spit soaking your chin and his thighs. He grunts deeply, screwing his eyes shut and knitting his fingers tighter into your hair as your warm mouth draws him closer and closer.

So focused on him, the sounds that he’s making and the heavy feeling of him on your tongue— it’s bliss, you can’t even feel the cold tile, uncomfortable under your knees. Just him.

#firefighter!bradley #bradley bradshaw #thots night (:#bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut

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majorproblems77 · 3 months

Text

Recalled updated! Okay okay okay im very excited about this lets gooooo!

HI!

How are yall doing? I've been freed, (then I got sick haha.) We are back with the final part of Directionless and we find the main group inside Hyrule castle trying to figure out what to do next.

With some shenanigans along the way.

Okay, time for the important things! Recalled and all panels belong to @recalled11 and its wonderful artist @l3ominor. Go check it out!

You can find the comic page here!

Now, it is time for snacks and drinks, Let's do this! :D

Backgrounds my beloved, you get so much story telling from just this one shot it's great.

MAlon and Time and helping Wild gather information, Sky is resting his leg while flower and Sun discuss something.

Hmm, Sky's looking very serious right now. What's on your mind blorbo?

Look at him run. I love him.

Yoink.

This makes me chuckle. I love when we get Wild shenanigans.

I love how casual he is about this. But I'm gonna note something here.

The orange glow of what I assume is ultrahand. Which would be it, If this next panel didn't exist.

Wild's eye is glowing orange. The eye which changes colour when he's looking at the orb.

So Wild's eye changes colour based on what ability he is using.

Confusion and joy.

Like ust look at these guys

These two are just cackling at Time's expense. And Wild's shenanigans and I totally agree.

The man is still holding his hands out like he's still holding the books.

Flower's little pen for her pura pad. I love it. I can only assume She's got a little diagram on her screen which is just chaos

What's on the paper captain? I hope you didn't tear it out of your book.

I wonder if it's a group drawing of the war heroes looking at a reference picture while trying to find information would make sense. Depending on the length of time it's been since he was fighting that war.

Hiding something are we captain?

I reckon he's trying to figure out just who Time is. And has dug out a picture from the war. (Im unsure, do we get Big Brother Captain? Because I live for Big Brother Captain)

interesting we get symbols for these heroes.

What's the problem Time? Are you looking at someone who you recognise and now he's mentioned your hero title you dont want to talk about it?

Look at Malon, She's like 'You have gotta tell him.'

And Captain looks sad about it. Which tells me that he knows and that he's waiting for Time to approach him.

Thats interesting. We know we get Midna as a companion in Hyrule Warriors. And I assume that Fi mentioned Sky at one point.

I sense some Angst in our future.

Sun putting her hand on Sky's shoulder like that gives me life. i love these two a healthy amount okay.

Also these backgrounds are pretty, I love the triangle behind Sun and Sky here. Thats' Wisdom On the triforce (If observed on the left hand). And considering that sun is in the centre of the frame. I find this interesting. Maybe because they are learning a lot of information right now?

Okay, so you may be wondering who says this line on the left here. I was too. I reckon it's Sky. As a shock response to being mentioned by Captain.

Mainly because From the angle of the speech bubble and the location of the heroes in relation to Wild, it only gives a few heroes. Mainly Sky and Sun.

Sky asking this makes sense as he and sun are the newest to the group at this point.

Okay now its the time for the big one'

The orb. (Or compass,)

I've taken the time to translate the words I can identify and have extrapolated the rest of them from there. The language is Sheika, and most of these words are what (From what I understand) Is what Wild himself identifies each hero as.

So we have, (Rapid fire style)

Hero of Wind

Hero of Spriits

Hero of Sky

Hero of Time

Captain

These all say, Unknown.

A little more on this as well.

This circle around this orange arrow. I believe this is the arrow that Wild has chosen for them to approach. Orange if I had to give you a guess is Twilight's colour. Mainly from this bit before.

Backgrounds give a lot of information by themselves. This looks like a Twili portal.

The reason Wild chose that is unknown to me. During one of his adventures, he encountered Wolfie. So it makes sense. Maybe he was able to identify his name as Twilight. Or called the wolf that himself.

I suppose the next arc will give us more information!

Woo! Adventure time! :D

Okay, thats enough of me rambling.

Thanks for hanging out with me today! I love this comic so it's always a pleasure to write these!

Now I hope you all have a wonderful day!

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y0urm4m · 5 months

Text

No Time to die ch.3

Warnings: smoking, swearing, arranged marriage (it is consensual so don’t come for me!!), alcohol consumption, weapons, blood, arguing, possible smut, fighting.(This includes all parts!!)

Summary: What will happen when two strangers with awful backstories are forced into an arranged marriage but one is seeking revenge.

┏━━━ 🀥 ━━━┓

A few days had passed since everything had happened with my dad and Darren. My dad ended up firing Darren which was utterly ridiculous and unnecessary as he hadn’t done anything wrong. Once I had found out about him being fired, me and my dad once again had a massive argument and I was sent to my room for the rest of the day. Like always.

it was currently the night before the wedding, I was sat in my room with Nick as I painted my nails a pearly colour. “What do you think about this colour?” I asked Nick, showing him my nails. “I love it, it will definitely go with the dress.” He replied, inspecting the nail polish bottle. “I’m glad and if you really like the colour I’ll see if I have some spare,” I offered smiling. “It is one of the only colours that I use.” I added, giggling. “Oh before I forget I brought an early wedding gift for tonight!” Nick exclaimed jumping up, he walked over to where his bag was grabbing something. “I got some more of wine we had the other night!” He grinned. “Oh gosh, well I will not be drinking as much as I had the other day.” I giggled.

— Once I had finished my nails, me and Nick grabbed a couple of wine glasses and brought them back up to my room. “Soo, have you spoken to Chris?” He asked, pouring a glass of wine for himself and I. “A little bit.” I said as nick passed me a glass. “Oh well, you’ll have all the time to speak to him tomorrow,” “That’s another thing, have you written any vows?” He added.

Shit I had completely forgotten about writing vows.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you forgot,” He giggled. “I can help if you want?” He offered, sitting up. “It’s fine but I’ll have to write some now.” I said, getting up and grabbing my notebook.

I sat for 5 minutes staring at the blank lined page, what was I supposed to say. I barely knew Chris.

“Just write from the heart, trust me it’ll work.” Nick said softly, sipping from his drink.

Me and Nick ended up scrapping the personal vows because my mind had gone completely blank, we ended up lying down to watch a film which also was scrapped as we ended up falling asleep.

— “Are you excited?” Nick asked from beside me. I nodded. “Time has gone so fast!” I replied, as the woman behind me styled my hair. “Is it okay to start doing your makeup?” Someone else asked. I nodded my head in response as they walked over with loads of makeup products. “I’ll be back once your make up and hair is done. Okay?” Nick said, patting my shoulder. “Okay that fine, I’ll see you then.” I smiled as he left the room.

My hair and makeup was finally done.

I decided to put the dress on once I had got to the venue so it wasn’t creased or potentially damaged.

“Nick I’m done.” I said, walking out the door. “Great, let’s head to the venue now as we’re still early.” He said, leading me towards a car.

“Your hair and makeup looks breathtaking by the way.” He grinned. “Thank you, I’m honestly scared I might ruin it if I’m not careful.” I giggled. “You won’t, don’t worry. We’re Almost there anyways.” He replied, looking out the car window.

— We eventually arrived and went straight to put the dress on. “Holy shit y/n you actually look amazing.” Nick said, as I showed him the finished look. I smiled, as a faint knock was heard. “Who’s that?” I whispered, looking towards the door. “I don’t know, one second I’ll check.” He whispered heading over towards the door.

After 5 minutes of Nick having a conversation with the person, he finally opened the door revealing my dad. His eyes widened as he looked at me. I smiled walking over to him. “Do I look okay?” I asked, looking at him. “You look wonderful, your mom would be proud.” He smiled, pulling me in for a hug. I felt my waterline fill as the words left my dad’s mouth. “No water works before the wedding, please.” Nick said which caused me and my dad to laugh as I pulled away from the hug.

“Everyone should be arriving and sat down soon so I suggest staying in here for now.” Nick said, looking down at his phone. “Yeah Matt, Chris and some of the others are actually already here, I saw them just before I came in here.” My dad replied, also looking down at his phone. “Right I’ll be back once everyone is sat down, I love you.” My dad said, leaving me and Nick in the room.

“Y’know, I actually really appreciate the fact that you wore my mom’s dress.” Nick smiled, sorting out his tie. “I’m glad I could wear it, it’s a beautiful dress,” I replied, smoothing out the sides. I looked up at the clock, surely everyone was sat down by now? “Nick, you should probably go after all you are one of Chris’ groomsmen.” I said, patting his shoulder. “Alright, I’ll tell your dad to come and get you, I’ll see you soon!” Nick replied, giving me a quick hug before leaving.

I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror, this was actually happening it wasn’t just a dream. “You can do this y/n.” I whispered to myself and with that someone was knocking on the door again. “Y/n, it’s me,” My dad said entering the room. “Everyone is settled down now, so are you ready?” He asked, walking Towards me. “I’m ready, before I forget let me get the bouquet.” I replied quickly grabbing the bouquet from next to me. “Okay let’s go.” I took a deep breath, as we left the room.

We began walking the corner, arm in arm. “I’m so proud of you.” My dad whispered.

It’s felt surreal the moment me and my dad made it to the start of the aisle. The decor that filled the venue was absolutely enchanting and made the ceremony feel as if it were a dream.

“Please rise.” The priest declared as I finally was in sight for the family, friends and guests. Everyone who was sitting arose from their seats turning to look at me and my dad :who was on my left, as we walked slowly down the aisle. I could see Nick grinning as I walker closer towards him and the others but that’s when Chris caught my vision, his mouth agape as he watched me finally reach him.

As we reached the end of the isle, my dad let go of my arm giving me a kiss on the cheek as he sat down.

Chris took a step forward, smiling at me as we took our places in front of the priest.

“In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the Holy Spirit,” The priest began.

“Amen.” Everyone else replied.

“Grace to you and peace from God our father and the lord Jesus Christ.”

“And with your spirit.” Everyone replied once again.

“I will now start with an opening prayer. Be attentive to our prayer, O lord, and in your kindness uphold what you have established for the increase of the human race, so that the union you have created may be kept safe by your assistance. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one god, forever and ever.” The priest said, nodding his head.

After the priest read a few readings from the Old Testament, the New Testament and the Gospel.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honour and honour each other for as long as you both shall live?” The priest asked.

“I am.” Me and Chris said together.

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of holy matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent.” The priest announced, as me and Chris joined our right hands together.

Chris took a deep breath. “I, Chris Sturniolo, take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honour you all the days of my life.”

I smiled. “I, Y/N Y/L/N, take you, Chris Sturniolo, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honour you all the days of my life.”

After the priest blessed the rings and said a few more prayers it was now time to give one another them.

“Y/N Y/L/N, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.” Chris said, sliding the ring on my finger.

“Chris Sturniolo, revive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.” I replied, sliding the ring on his finger.

I looked over slightly to see my dad, who was now wiping tears off of his face as he smiled at me.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” The priest declared.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The priest said to Chris.

I looked at Chris before his lips met mine for a quick peck.

As we pulled back, the room filled with claps from everyone around us.

— After everyone had congratulated me and Chris we headed to the reception but before I entered Chris pulled me to the side. “I just wanted to say thank you for wearing my mom’s dress it really means a lot.” He said pulling me in for a hug. I was taken aback by the hug but I didn’t pull away from him, instead I hugged him back. “I really loved wearing this dress and I’m glad I was able to wear it.” I replied as we pulled away from each other.

We walked into the reception as I was immediately taken over to the dance floor where my dad stood. “You ready for a father, daughter dance? He chuckled. “I’m not going to let you go that easy.” He added as I walked over towards him.

The song ‘father and daughter’ by Paul Simon started playing which caused me to immediately tear up as it was a song my dad would play to me all the time when I was younger and we’d dance around the kitchen whilst my mom made sure we didn’t break anything. We began dancing slowly and carefully, as the song continued.

“I know I’ve already said it once but I really am proud of you.” My dad said to me as we danced to the song. “Thank you dad.” I replied as my lip quivered. “How about we dance just like we did when you was little, and if you keep crying it’s going to make me cry.” He chuckled, spinning me round just like he did when I was little which caused me to giggle. “There’s my happy girl.” He said as the song came to an end.

Chris walked towards the dance floor smiling at me and my dad as he put his hand out. My dad nodded, leaving me and Chris to dance. The song ‘At Last’ by Etta James started playing as Me and Chris began dancing. We danced to the soft beat of the song.

One of my hands was on his shoulder whereas his situated on my waist, our other hands were clasped together. Our movements were slow and synchronised as we danced around the dance floor. As we moved around, I looked at everybody who was watching. I smiled at Nick and Matt who was watching from the side as my dad put his thumb up and me and Chris. As mine and Chris’ dance came to an end he gave the top of my head a quick kiss.

“What would you like to do now?” He asked, my hand still holding onto his. “I’m not too sure.” I replied, looking towards Nick and Matt who were walking towards us both. “How are the newly wed feeling?” Nick asked. “Happy and excited.” I replied, smiling at him. “Same here.” Chris added.

— After having conversations with Matt, Nick and all the other guests we decided to eat some food.

Me and Chris were sat next to each other with my dad and some of Chris’ other family members including his brothers.

My dad arose from his seat, getting everyone’s attention. “If it’s okay I’d love to say some words for the newly wed,” He announced. I nodded, smiling at him.

“Y/n the moment before and when I walked you down the aisle will be a memory I will cherish forever.” He said, smiling down at me.

“And Chris, I don’t think any amount of preparation can ever make you feel ready to give your daughter away, but if I really had to choose someone, just know I would choose you every time without a doubt.” My dad said, toasting his drink.

After my dad’s meaningful toast, everyone ate their food, drank their drink and got lost in conversation.

“I hope you’re all having a great night so far but most importantly I hope you’ve all saved some room for something sweet because it is indeed that time! Please may the happy couple make their way over towards the cake so we can get this dessert party started!” The MC announced.

I looked over at Chris as we both got up from our seats making our way over towards the cake.

“Don’t they make the perfect couple? Let’s get some great pictures whilst they cut the cake!” The MC signalled for the photographer to come over.

Me and Chris grabbed the knife from next to us getting ready to cut the cake.

“Now if you’ll both do us the honour of cutting the first slice together.”

Me and Chris cut the first slice of the cake, placing it carefully on the plate in front of us.

“Wonderful! Let’s give them an applause.” The MC started clapping as everyone else around us joined in.

“And now, I invite the couple to feed each other a bite of the cake.”

I picked up a fork from next to us, collecting some of the cake as Chris did the same. “You ready!” I smiled, Chris nodding in return as we fed each other the cake.

“Wasn’t that lovely? Now, friends, family and honoured guests feel free to enjoy some cake and refreshments but most of all enjoy the rest of your night!” The MC said as pretty much everyone approached the cake.

The night was slowly coming to an end, everyone had eaten their slice of cake and had more drinks. Including me, I was currently sipping on wine having a conversation with Nick, Matt and my dad about today.

“Today has flew by it feels like moments ago I was walking down the aisle.” I sighed, looking at the few people who were dancing. “It really has.” My dad agreed. “It’s also been an emotional rollercoaster.” I giggled.

“Good evening everybody! Before this special day comes to an end, let’s have one last dance!” “Feel welcome to come join the others on the dance floor!” The MC announced.

“Are you guys up for one last dance?” I offered, standing up. “Chris is already there.” I added motioning towards where he was. They all agreed heading towards the dance floor.

An upbeat song played through the speakers as everyone spent the rest of their time dancing. The floor was highlighted by bright strobe lights: which flashed colours of yellow, red, green and blue. I rotated through dancing with Chris, Matt, Nick and my dad but we eventually started dancing all together resulting in a laughing mess as the song slowly came to a halt.

— Most of the guests had left leaving me, my dad, Chris and his brothers who were all helping clean and pack stuff up. “So are you coming back with me or do you plan on going with Chris?” My dad asked collecting all his stuff. “Uh I’m not too sure,” I replied. “Chris!” I called out, Chris’ head immediately shooting up and look over at me. I ushered him over. “My dad would like to know if I’m coming back with you or not?” I told him. “Me and your mom stayed the night in a hotel to get away from all the stress for the night,” My dad said. “I wouldn’t mind paying for you guys to stay in one.” He added. “I would love to. But only if Chris wants to.” I replied, looking at Chris. “Why not, thank you sir.” He thanked. “It’s no biggie and you don’t need to call me sir.” My dad chuckled, patting Chris’ back.

After my dad said his last goodbyes to the rest of us, he gave me some money and headed home.

— “Did I hear that the newly wed are staying at a hotel!” Nick teased as we left the reception. “You did indeed.” I chuckled, wrapping my arm around Chris’. “Well you guys have fun!” Nick winked which was followed by immediate laughter from us all. “We will do.” Chris chuckled.

After me and Chris said our goodbyes to Nick and Matt, we headed towards the hotel.

And if I was being honest I was excited to finally have more time with Chris.

Maybe this whole marriage wasn’t that bad after all, today had been amazing.

┗━━━ 🀥 ━━━┛

A/N: hope you enjoyed this part. For the super delusional people, No this does not mean ur married to Chris!! (Just had to clear that up). You all are going to enjoy the next part and no one come for me for writing out like half of a wedding ceremony and basically a whole reception. — hugs and kisses Gracie 💋

Tag list: @watercolorskyy @junnniiieee07 @patscorner @mattyb4dominicans @brooklynn0103 @imwetforyourmom @stasiesturn

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supernaturalfreakout · 8 months

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Revelations pt. 1

[History on Your Side—Chapter 2.] Sam Winchester x Reader

Chapter summary: Sam and Dean make some revelations about the case. *Please see the masterlist for entire work summary and tags* Masterlist | Read on AO3

Back at the motel, Sam retrieved the materials provided by you from his bag. He set them on the wooden table, preparing for an afternoon of research. The sterile glow of the ceiling lights lit up the otherwise dim room, highlighting the mound of books, journals and ancient manuscripts.

Dean sat back in a chair, flipping through the pages of a weathered journal. "Seems like this tribe has quite a history."

Sam nodded, tracing his fingers over the illustrations in one of the books. "Let's dig deeper... see if there's any mention of an event that might have triggered this haunting."

---

The hours slipped away quietly in their motel room as they immersed themselves in the writings. Sam diligently jotted down notes while Dean cross-references multiple sources. The details gradually revealed layers of forgotten tales and unresolved conflicts rooted in the regions past.

"This could be it, Dean." A spark of excitement coloured Sam's voice. "This part here," he pointed, tracing a line in a fading manuscript. "It mentions a tribal conflict that led to an act of betrayal."

Dean's eyes widened as he read through the passage. "Sounds promising."

"We've got to visit the site of the conflict, see if there are any clues left behind," Sam suggested, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set with determination. "Tomorrow, first thing."

---

Later that day, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Sam's inbox chimed with an email. He glanced at the screen, surprised to see it was from you. Opening the message, he read your words with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Hi Sam, it's Y/N from earlier. Just wanted to drop you a line to let you know I've found some extra notes on the tribe. I've attached what I can, but there are some older records in the department. Feel free to pop round tomorrow if you're interested. - Y/N"

As Sam typed out his reply, Dean leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of the conversation. "Whatcha writing there, Shakespeare?"

Sam shot him a sideways glance. "Just a thank you. Y/N found more on the tribe. She's offering to help tomorrow."

Dean's curiosity peaked. "Seems our charming reporter act paid off, huh?"

"Seems that way." Sam hit 'send', confirming their meeting for tomorrow. "We'll swing by before the stakeout, better to be prepared."

---

The following day, sunlight filtered through the motel's windows as Sam got ready for the day. He'd already been on his morning run and spent a little longer in the shower than usual. He also spent an extra moment fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, an unconscious effort to look more put together.

“Taking your time there, Sammy,” Dean said, eyeing his brother with a smirk. “Someone got a date with the good doctor?”

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to brush off Dean’s teasing. “Can you give it a rest, please?”

“Sure, sure,” Dean teased, his grin widening. “Just making sure you’re looking your best for our ‘scholarly rendezvous’, that’s all.”

Sam shook his head, sighing deeply as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Let’s just go, Dean.”

The drive to the university was filled with Dean’s jokes and Sam’s continued attempts to redirect the conversation back to the haunting. Despite his adamancy that he was not phased, Dean was not fooled, watching Sam repetitively fidget with the sleeve of his jacket from the corner of his eye.

They arrived at the history department and were welcomed by you greeting them with a warm smile. "Hey, Sam, Dean. Glad you could make it. Come on in."

Sam's heart skipped a beat in your presence, but he quickly pushed aside his nerves, focusing on the task at hand.

As they settled into your office, you laid out the notes you'd found, detailing the tribe's history and their interactions with the land. Your passion for history was evident in the way you spoke, and Sam found himself admiring not just your knowledge but also your dedication to your work. Sam contributed his thoughts and ideas, occasionally catching your eye. He tried to push aside any distracting thoughts, reminding himself they were here for the case.

After a lengthy discussion, you glanced at your watch. "I hate to cut this short, but I have a meeting in... two minutes..." Shit! "I hope this has been useful?"

Sam nodded, grateful for your help. "Thanks, and definitely... We really appreciate all your help."

Dean chimed in with a charming grin. "Yeah, thanks for shedding more light on this Doc."

You smiled warmly. "Of course, I'm grateful that my work can make a difference."

Sam smiled. "We're heading to the woodland later, so what you've told us about these landmarks will really help".

"Oh, great, just…well, be careful." You cringed internally. These men were hunters, they've dealt with dangers you've never even contemplated and you're telling them to 'be careful'? You felt like crawling into a hole and dying from embarrassment.

"We always are Doc. Right Sammy?" Dean slapped his brother on the shoulder.

A warmth spread through Sam's chest. "Thanks Y/N, we will be."

"Let me know how it goes? If you don't mind...? I feel like I'm invested in this case now" you chuckled tentatively.

"Uh, yeah, absolutely... Pop your number in and I'll update you once we're safe, how's that?" Sam passed you his phone, a tentative proposition to get your number.

"Sure" you smiled, catching a glint in Sam's eye as you tapped in your details.

"Thanks." As you passed him back his phone, your fingers unintentionally brushed against his, a pang surging through you both as you locked eyes. You quickly averted your gaze, feeling the intensity of his stare. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see him smile.

With a final nod, you headed off, a faint blush spreading across your face as you hurried to your meeting.

As you left, Sam couldn't shake off the nervous excitement tingling in his veins. He glanced at Dean, who was sporting a mischievous smirk.

"What?" Sam asked, slightly on edge from his brother's expression.

Dean chuckled. "Smooth moves in there, Sammy."

Sam's cheeks flushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on! 'I'll let you know when we're safe'... You're smooth with the ladies."

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "I was just being polite!"

"Sure, sure," Dean teased, enjoying Sam's discomfort. "She seemed into it, though. Who knows, maybe she'll slide into your DMs?"

Sam chuckled, feeling both amused and hopeful. "Can we focus on the case, please?"

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, Mr. Smooth Operator. Let's get to that stakeout. But first, lunch, I'm a starved man!"

---

Sam and Dean decided to grab a quick bite at a nearby diner. Dean had a burger and fries whilst Sam ordered a protein salad. As they sat in a booth, Sam picked at his food, lost in thought about the case and… the way your hand had felt against his skin. Dean, on the other hand, was more focused on the plate of fries in front of him.

"You're quiet, Sammy," Dean noted, dipping a fry into ketchup. "Thoughts on the case?"

Sam looked up from his food, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. "Uh... yeah... all this new information definitely adds up. Y/N really knows her stuff."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. She's got a real knack for details."

"And... she seems genuinely interested in helping us." Sam added, casting a glance at Dean.

"Yeah, she's passionate about her work, just like we are."

Sam nodded, becoming lost in his thoughts once again. Maybe she's the missing piece in solving this mess...

---

The day had transitioned into a dull, rainy afternoon. Dean maneuvered the Impala through the foggy roads, the rain tapping a steady rhythm on the car's roof. A soft grey hue veiled the horizon, the dimming daylight casting an eerie glow over the landscape. As they arrived at the woodland, the rain surpassed into a fine drizzle, surprisingly freshening against their skin.

Sam carried his phone, having snapped a picture of a map detailing the historical landmarks belonging to the tribe. An ancient tomb, nested at the edge of the clearing, held the most hope, so they began their search there.

Sam consulted the map under the dimming light, occasionally glancing up to gauge their surroundings.

Dean squinted through the drizzle, his eyes darting between the rocks jutting from the ground barely visible in the fading daylight. "This place gives me the creeps, Sammy. Feels like something's watching us."

"Yeah, well, that's kinda the job description."

They pressed on, their boots squelching in the soft mud. The mist thickened, swirling around them, adding an eerie quality to the already haunted scene.

Suddenly, Sam stopped, his gaze fixed on a moss-covered stone embedded in the side of a hill. "Look Dean! Here… this sigil, it matches the one in Y/N's book earlier."

"I'll be darned." Dean peered at the rockface, raindrops trickling down its weathered surface. "Think it's safe to assume that it's not going to be a straightforward 'dig and burn' situation?"

Sam nodded. "Records suggest the tribe burn their dead. The spirit must be tied here another way."

Dean nodded, as he pulled out the EMF. It started to buzz straight away. "Well, I think we've struck gold, this is definitely the place".

The brother's kept up their guard, looking out for any potential danger, but none came.

"Strange" Dean mused. "There hasn't been a sighting in a few weeks, but the dude's clearly here. Ever heard of a shy ghost?"

"Beats me" said Sam. "Come on, let's head back, no need to piss him off before we know how to finish him".

---

As they returned to the rundown motel room, the rain picked up again, the sky deepening. The brothers kicked off their boots and shrugged out of their wet jackets.

Dean lounged on a creaky chair, flicking on the TV as he kicked his feet on the table. Sam sat on the edge of his bed, taking his phone from his pocket. He scanned through his contact list to find your name and typed out a message.

"Hey Y/N, it's Sam. We're back, safe and sound! Thanks again for all your help. Hope your meeting went well?"

A few minutes later, a notification buzzed. Sam quickly unlocked his phone to read your reply.

"Hey Sam! Glad to hear you guys made it back safely. My meeting was fine, thanks! How'd it go? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Sam smiled at your response, your enthusiasm evident even in the text. He started typing out a reply when Dean interrupted, flicking through the channels with a bored expression.

"Sammy, what are you grinning about over there?"

Sam remained focused on his phone screen. "Uh, nothing... Just catching up on messages."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure. Anything interesting?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Just updating Y/N like I said I would. Nothing major."

Dean chuckled, turning back to the TV.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued tapping out his message.

"We found the tomb-definitely a ghost there, but as there's no bones, I'm thinking we're going to need a spell of some sort."

As the evening passed, Sam eagerly checked his phone, awaiting your next reply. But none came. After a few hours he resigned himself to thinking that you must be busy, asleep, or uninterested, until his phone started to ring. He glanced at the caller ID, eyes torn from the crappy TV show Dean was watching. It was you.

Butterflies formed in his stomach as he straightened up from where he had been reclining against his bed. "Hey, Y/N, what's up?"

Dean's ears pricked up.

"Sam..." Your voice came through with a hint of excitement and breathlessness. "Hope you don't mind me calling, but after your message, I had a look through some old texts, and… I think I've found something… a spell…I think... I'm not too sure..."

Sam's heart quickened at the prospect. "What?! Really?!"

Dean eyed Sam with curiosity.

"Are you busy? I mean…It's just that, I think you need to see this, like…now."

"Uh, okay, yeah, of course, we'll be right there. Where shall we meet you?".

"I'll text you my address, thanks Sam…see you soon."

"What's going on?" Dean asked, pressingly, as a text lit up Sam's phone.

"Y/N thinks she's found a spell... we need to go!"

Chapter 3

#sam winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #x reader #history on your side

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