#they are touching in gifs 2 and 3 i checked it frame by frame :)

[touchstiel]

EVERY TOUCH EVER ☞ 100/?

11.10 The Devil in the Details

[kurogxrix]

4 Minutes

Dad!Mob!Bucky Barnes x Mom!reader

IN WHICH you and Bucky had limited time to spend intimately during the past few days, leaving you both extremely sexually frustrated. When your son’s occupation offers you 4 minutes of free time, Bucky’s damn adamant on making your legs shake in less than 3.

Warnings: SMUT, dry humping, P in V, quickies, kitchen counter fuck.

The sun had risen for around 2 hours now, and your husband had yet to leave the bed. You had thought that maybe he’d left for work after you had gotten up in the morning, because the mob was no easy job after all. Though after a quick check up on your sleeping son, you’d found his father in the same exact position, head in the clouds on your shared bed despite it already being 7 in the morning. 

The Alaskan King mattress draped on the luxurious bed frame made a man as huge as Bucky look so small, you couldn't even imagine what you and your son looked like when it was only the two of you lying down on it. The fluffy mattress was just so plushy and dreamy that you couldn’t even blame Bucky for sleeping in, so instead, you made use of yourself around the house. Sure you did have maids maintaining the mansion during daytime, but you were bored and there was clearly nothing better to do while waiting for your two boys to wake up. 

You quickly realised that your newfound occupation was not going to last, if it had even managed to start, because how could you clean a house that was already spotless? Yet again you had already gotten bored of it, so instead you found amusement in mindlessly scrolling on your phone. Your feet were fast to lead you to the kitchen, a path that was solidly traced deep inside your head. From the endless of secret midnight trips that you’d take to satisfy your cravings during pregnancy, you’d notice yourself finding an odd comfort in the expensive marble floor and matching countertops. 

Too entranced in the media to notice the heavy footsteps that were closing in on you, the bulky arms entrapping your waist surely did scare you at the moment, and you nearly let out a yelp as your phone escaped your grip. Thanking yourself for having leant against your kitchen counter, you turned around to glare at your husband. 

“Morning Malyshka, little trouble not runnin’ wild today?” Bucky rasped out, his hands still gripping onto your hips as if to keep him grounded. You found the smirk on his face less than amusing, and you reckoned that he was probably reliving the jumpscare that he had given you inside of his head, probably so proud of his little prank. 

“Lev is with his nanny right now, I didn't have time to see him earlier because apparently he’s been preparing a surprise for us. He did however ask through Grace for his papa and mama to be present in about 10 minutes.” you recalled the exact words that Lev’s caretaker, Grace, had spoken to you a few minutes ago. You’d told her this morning that she could head back home, given that apparently Bucky had taken a day off to stay at home. Though on her way to the door, she had been unfortunately intercepted by a freshly woken-up Lev, but she didn’t mind one bit. Your son was quite the charmer, nobody could resist those doe eyes of his. 

The smile present on your face as you spoke about Lev could only feed Bucky’s admiration towards you, if it was even possible to grow the endless love that he already held for you. Your ears caught onto the grunt that Bucky had let out in response, instead too busy taking in your outfit with those hungry baby blue eyes of his to even mutter out a proper verbal response. 

It had almost been too long since you both have had time to touch the other in a much more intimate way than you were currently doing, and it almost made you crave. Scratch that, you were past the point of craving, in fact you felt so deprived of it that you were ready to get down on your knees and pray for god to release you of the intense sexual frustration that you felt, but that sounded a little too vulgar. You knew that Bucky felt the same, that he’d spend way too many nights fisting himself in his office while your name fell in short groans under his breath. But work had been getting busy, and you had to care for things around your home while your husband attended those never ending meetings. 

Now would have been the perfect time to relish in each other, considering Bucky had no work 

Now would have been the perfect time to relish in each other, considering you were both currently alone and your son was getting safely watched over. But you feared that Grace was going to come fetch you sooner than your son had demanded, and the allocated time was not even that far from then. Nevertheless, you could read straight through Bucky’s mind as he gazed at you like some starving man. His cock painfully aching in the restraints of his plain boxers as he enjoyed the sight of you in nothing else but a white, oversized button down shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton panties. 

“Whatever you’re thinking of right now, cut it out okay? I’m sure that Grace said she’d come fetch us at 9:30, and look at the time now,” 

you pushed Bucky further back with two fingers on his chest, creating space between you both as you felt his intense stare burning literal holes through the thin fabric of your shirt. Bucky craned his neck towards the nearest clock, groaning in annoyance when the hands showed a clear 9:24.

When he looked back towards you, you had already turned your body back towards the counter. Leant against the cool marble surface with your phone in hands, Bucky had to suppress a groan at the sight of your ass in those tight little panties, right in front of him, ready for him to ruin. 

A surprised gasp left your lips as you felt large, warm palms engulfing your hips once more. This time however, you felt Bucky pulling your hips onto his, making your ass collide against his straining cock. You almost groaned at the feeling of his hard clothed length pressed up so tightly against you, the wet spot of precum staining his boxers already starting to soak into your own underwear. 

“C'mon doll, allow me just those 6 minutes of your time, I promise I can even make you cum in less than 3.” you could almost feel the smirk in his tone, his warm breath fanning your neck as his naked chest pressed against your clothed back. If he wasn’t already irresistible before, you sure as hell were a saint for not falling into the temptation of your smoking hot mob husband pleading to fuck you. 

You turned back to your phone instead of audibly responding, afraid of your mouth betraying you at the moment. You tried to swallow down a moan as Bucky’s large calloused palms slid underneath the oversized button down shirt that you were wearing, daintily caressing your smooth skin. Sure your eyes were pointed at the screen of your phone, but your mind couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the feeling of Bucky’s very hard boner still pressed against you. 

You couldn’t help your mind from running, not in the compromising position that you were in. You shuddered at the memory of Bucky’s cock stretching you out like no other, his wonderful length reaching the depths of your body as you rode him greedily after a day spent away from each other. It was a nasty cocktail of filth, concocted with drool, sweat and a couple of loose cuss words thrown here and there. 

He was nothing more than a tease, and damn did he know it. The way his fingertips grazed your skin, making you want to drop the act and beg on your knees for him to touch you properly. Once again, his hands met with your hips, except this time you had little time to react to your husband pulling you further back into him. 

You’d ended up completely bent over the marble counter, your chest flushed against the cold material of the table as Bucky palmed your ass greedily, as if it’d bring him pleasure. His other hand was gripping at your upper thigh for dear life, oftentimes running up your legs seductively, leaving you with shivers running down your spine. 

You dropped your phone once he’d started rolling your hips onto his, tired of pretending like you could actually focus on whatever was displayed on your screen as he manhandled you to his will. You forced yourself to remain quiet as he continued to roll your hips onto the bulging tent of his boxers, drowning in the sweet groans that he was letting out. Too desperate to care how loud he was being, Bucky tipped his head back in pure pleasure.

Never once did it occur to you how pleasuring dry humping could be, but yet again it could’ve been because of how sexually deprived you both were. You shrugged the thought of getting caught away, blaming it on the fact that since no clothes were being removed, you could easily play it off if anyone were to walk in. 

Bucky felt as though he could burst from the sheer clothed friction itself, but it was not enough, he needed to feel you. Fuck it, he was genuinely ready to drop to his knees and beg to fuck you like a hopeless man. He’d beg to eat you like a famished boy, hell, he’d wouldn’t even mind if you allowed his fingers only. 

Thick fingers ran down the seam of your panties, sneakily slipping under the elastic band to push the cotton fabric down to pool around your upper thighs. You turned around to yell at him, clearly he was not understanding. The clock flashed at 9:26 now, and your anxiety was peaking at every moment that the second hand moved. Your words got caught up in your throat as he brought his hand up to his mouth, lubricating three of his fingers with his spit before bringing a hand down to rub at your aching pussy. 

“Fuck detka, look at you all pretty and soaked for me.” Bucky almost moaned out, tongue lapping out to wet his slightly chapped lips. You didn’t even have time to process your husband pulling down his own restraints, thick and veiny cock slapping against his toned stomach with a satisfying wet sound. Precum smeared from his cock and onto the muscles of his stomach, leaving you shaking with anticipation.

“If you’re gonna do anything then you better do it now ‘cause we only have 4 minutes!” you rushed out the words, voice shying away as you felt him pushing the fat tip of his cock through your soaking folds. You moaned at the feeling, gripping the counter so hard until you could feel your joints straining. Bucky picked up the pace, pressing a hand under his cock to help slide himself faster between your lips. 

He was drenched by now, thick cock dripping with your arousal as his eyes gawked at the way his length disappeared between the both of your bodies at each of his thrusts. Time was waiting, and Bucky knew more than anybody else as he was facing the wall-mounted clock. The warmth of your hole was calling for him, waiting for him to stretch you out like he had done so many times before. 

Bucky gripped firmly onto the base of his cock that was twitching impatiently in his hands, teasing your entrance as he slid only the tip in and out. He bit down onto his lips in order to retain the series of filth that was bound to escape his mouth, his teeth were biting so hard onto the delicate skin of his lips that he was sure it had started bleeding at some point. “Fuck and would you look at that, S’like you’re trina suck me up doll,” he ran his mouth, unable to prevent the nasty roll of his words from escaping. 

Sweatdrops ran down his toned pack of abs as he eyed the way you squirmed from nothing else but his flushed tip, resisting the urge to just bury himself inside of you right now until you could think of nothing else but how stuffed you were. Though a quick look at the clock told him to stop resisting the urge, and that’s what he’d done. You were sure that the whole building could’ve heard the cry of pleasure that left your throat as Bucky sheathed his cock completely inside of you, leaving no space for second thoughts now that he’d gone all the way.

His cock twitched at the sound of your desperate whines, your hips grinding against his in a desperate need for friction. “Thought you were the one that didn’t want this, detka? What happened to that huh?” his tone almost sounded sardonic as his eyes trained on the way your hole greedily engulfed his cock, juices lapping all over his length once more as he slowly but surely pumped himself inside of you. You couldn’t even speak back to him, already too cock drunk from what he had yet to even give you. 

His grin grew at your silence, at least in coherent words, your whines only grew as the seconds passed. You both have had many quickies in the past, in between Bucky’s break as he had you on his desk, or hidden somewhere in a closet, you name it. Though none of them have ever been as desperate as this one, as needy. Finally deciding to ease your painful awaiting of pure pleasure, he gave into the warmth.

With the mix of his swift thrust and thick finger circling at your clit, it took you no time to lose grip over the counter. Bucky took notice of your sudden weakness, and as the caring husband that he is, dragged his arm up to wrap around your torso, locking you flushed with your back against his chest. The new position had your back arching for more, your sultry moans a clear sign that you were enjoying yourself. 

The tips of his middle and ring finger were laid flat against your clit as he ran teasing circles onto it. You felt your knees buckling as Bucky’s lips left sloppy kisses at the back of your neck, thankful enough for his incredible strength as he kept you standing by his own. Pride coursed through his body at the sight of you being so dishevelled because of him, the back of your head now pressed up against his chest as you leaned into him. 

Bucky’s knees were slightly bent to reach into you, bless his large frame and impressive height, he was quite literally hovering over you. It felt too good getting fucked right by such a large man, the size kink inside of you feasting from the way his large palm could swallow you up on its own. It didn’t take long for Bucky’s forceful strokes to falter, now in a sloppy pace as his own orgasm chased up to him. 

Yours hit you like a cold bucket of water, but in all the nice ways. Like a cold bucket of water but during the driest summer days. It only took you a final sharp thrust and the endless toying of your clit to send you over the top, your toes curling and fingers digging painfully into the arm holding your torso up as your orgasm washed over you. It was a loud and whiny one, but the sound of you coming only riled Bucky up more.

His clumsy strokes were a warning that he was coming shortly behind you, and after three last, hard and deep pumps of his cock, he was milked dry inside of you. The room filled with deep grunts and your exhausted panting, you shivered as your husband’s spent breath tickled the skin of your neck. 

“Fuck that was…that was- holy shit we needed that.” bucky stammered into the crook of your neck, a heartfelt chuckle erupting from his chest as he came down from his high. The short bucking of his hips finally stopped, and you could finally release your bottom lip from the painful tug of your teeth. The both of you stood there for a couple of seconds trying to catch your stuttering breathing as the clock ticked clean on 9:30. 

You could barely even cipher the first knock that was sent at the huge kitchen doors, before the knocking resumed. You and Bucky broke apart faster than you would’ve liked to, and you groaned at the empty feeling that he’d leave behind after pulling his softening cock out of you. Reluctantly, the both of you flung the little amount of garments that you previously had on, cringing at the wet feeling of Bucky’s dripping semen getting caught by your panties. 

“We’re coming soon Grace, tell Lev to wait in his playroom while waiting for us.” you yelled loud enough for your son’s nanny to hear, although with the amount of screaming that Bucky had put you through, you doubted she’d hear much with the way your voice would rasp. Her lack of response hinted at you that she’d heard your little altercation with Bucky, and you mentally cursed at the both of you for traumatising the poor woman. 

“Dunno about you but I'm not going anywhere near our son looking like this so you’ll have to go first while I shower,” you grinned mischievously as Bucky threw his head back in an annoyed groan, already knowing what was awaiting him in a few seconds. Though you both were more than aware of your son’s mood in the morning when you weren’t there, you just felt the need to tease him a little bit more. 

“You how tempered he gets when his momma isn’t there first thing to see him in the morning, but that’s what you get for being impatient now,” you grinned, running a hand down his stubble as you stood on your toes to give Bucky a chaste kiss that he tried to chase for longer than you would allow. 

Bucky’s baby blue eyes followed your every move as you sauntered away from him with a sultry sway of your hips, the button down shirt covering the majority of your panties but it was hard to miss the dribble of his and your arousal running down your legs shamefully. Running a hand down his face, he tried not to get lost in the shameful thoughts that he had of you running through his head, instead, he was too busy mentally preparing himself for the angry fit that your son would throw once he realised that his momma wasn’t there by his side to kiss him good morning yet. 

-

this is my second smut written and i haven’t written one since 2021 so pls don’t judge LMAO😭

[frost-queen]

Outmatched epilogue | (Reader x Anthony Bridgerton)

Requested by: @noirrose21-blog, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, 

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr,    @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves, @m-rae23,@kazbekkarluvbot, @freyathehuntress,

@kneelforloki, @mamaj-right, @queensgirl718, @abaker74, @thescooby-gang, @readers-posts, @randomstory56, @aureolinb, @fictional-hooman, 

@nyenye,  @loliakeoghan23, @heyheyheyggg, @aizawash0e, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @novas-dreamworld, @preciousbabypeter, @magical-spit, @heyheyheyggg, studioreader, @wonderlandfandomkingdom, @misscaller06, @dracoflaco, @nikithepuff, @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Summary: Anthony and you are married with kids. Something has reached your ears for you and your husband to be interested in meeting the lady who appears to have caught Sherlock's eye. Not only do you meet her, but you meet another interesting gentleman as well on the tracks. Read part 1  & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10

You squealed soft whilst stretching your arms. They bumped against the frame of the bed making your effort unsatisfying as you wanted it to be. The matrass ducked in when a body came rolling over closer to your side. You squealing ended up in chuckling when Anthony moved his upper body over yours. – “Morning Y/n Bridgerton.” – he said in his deep sleepy voice. You lowered your arms, flicking your finger against his cheek. It startled him for a moment.

“I told you, you can only call me Y/n Bridgerton when you are utterly cross with me!” – you reminded him. Anthony’s brief look of surprise and worry faltered into a smile. – “Apologies love, it just feels so right to call you that.” – he replied as you wrapped your arms around his neck. – “Are you cross with me?” – you teased him tilting your head a bit. – “Not the slightest.” – Anthony answered with a smirk.

“Then kiss me Anthony Bridgerton.” – you spoke seeing Anthony tilt his chin a bit down. Looking at you with an expression that you really went there. Copying his words simply to tease him. Laughing loud you loved it how easily he was teased or offended.

Anthony silenced you by pressing his lips hard on you. Making your head disappear into the folds of the pillow as he laid half on top of you. Smothering you with his kisses. You weren’t complaining. His kisses made you smile against his lips, feeling flustered by his passion. Anthony brought his hand up, touching your chin delicately as he let his lips brush carefully against yours.

Taking it slow to enjoy every little detail of your lips. The loud tripling of footsteps in the hallway made your eyes widen. Anthony stopped kissing you, lifting his head up. – “One… two… three.” – he whispered with half a smile. Just as he pointed towards the door it opened. – “Mommy, daddy!” – Charlotte busted into the room. Anthony removed himself from you as your daughter stood happily and jumpingly at the side of your bed.

Her maid appearing in the door opening out of breath. – “Apologies Viscount and Viscountess.” – she said with a low curtsy. Anthony reached to grab little Charlotte and hoist her up in the bed with them. – “It is alright.” – you told her. – “Will you check on Edmund please?” – you asked of her.

The maid curtsied again before taking her leave. Charlotte was jumping on the bed, Anthony holding her under her armpits to make sure she wouldn’t fall. – “Mommy! Daddy!” – she called out overexcited. Charlotte jumped down landing with her feet on your stomach as you flinched from the pain. – “Oh no! Mommy is hurt.” – Anthony said calming Charlotte down.

You dramatically pretended to faint, laying with your hand on your forehead. Anthony gasped playing along as he looked at Charlotte. – “We must heal mommy with kisses.” – little Charlotte nodded as she leaped onto you. Having her full weight on you made you groan softly from the impact. She then threw her arms around you, kissing your cheek repeatedly. – “Alright, alright mommy is healed.” – you called out laughingly as she had her arms tight around your neck.

“Is she now? I think she needs more kisses.” – Anthony teased resulting in you casting him a glare. Anthony joined in changing his kisses from your forehead to Charlotte’s. Charlotte laughed loud. You pulled yourself up to get some breathing area. Your cheeks flushed with heat from their smothering.

“Time to get up.” – you announced, throwing the covers away. Both Anthony and Charlotte groaned. Anthony held his hand up, mouthing five more minutes. You laughingly shook your head. – “Charlotte needs to get dressed. In case you forgot my brother is coming over.” – you reminded your husband off with a teasing glance. – “Uncle Sherl?” – Charlotte said making you laugh. You had always found it funny how she couldn’t fully pronounce his name yet.

Resulting into Sherlock being Sherl for her. Something you loved to tease him with. – “Yes Uncle Sherlock.” – you told her picking her up from the bed. Charlotte laid her head against your shoulder as you turned around with her. You opened the door seeing her maid having returned. You set Charlotte on the ground, telling her to get dressed. You were about to set a step when you got pulled back by your nightgown.

You bumped against Anthony’s chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist. With his other hand he closed the door. – “Five more minutes.” – he whispered bringing his head down to kiss the fold of your shoulder. His touch fluttered, his body swaying against yours. You spun around, jumping at him. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he stumbled back, directing himself back to the bed before falling backwards on it with you on him.

Soon you were all in the Parlor. Charlotte playing on the ground with her dolls. Her one year old brother sitting on your knee. Anthony was reading the newspaper in await of your brother. – “Let’s not bring her up immediately.” – you told your husband. Anthony lowered the newspaper. – “Why not?” – he asked with a teasing smile. – “Because!” – you made clear letting Edmund bounce a bit on your knee. – “You are far from subtle.” – you finished.

Anthony rolled with his eyes. – “I am subtle.” – he defended himself. Anthony looked down at his leg. Charlotte had been tugging his pants. She held up one of her dolls to him. Anthony placed his newspaper away, taking the doll from her. Charlotte got up to her feet, leaning a bit against his legs. – “Her hair isn’t nice.” – she said holding a tiny brush up to him. – “Let us lay it neatly then.” – Anthony answered taking the tiny brush from her.

He started combing the dolls hair as Charlotte laid her head down on his knees, watching him. – “There.” – Anthony said after finishing. Charlotte squealed excited taking the doll from him. She then showed the doll to you. – “She looks beautiful.” – you told her. Charlotte sat back down, taking a second doll in her hand to play with.

The door to the Parlor opened. – “Lord Sherlock Holmes.” – the man announced. Sherlock appeared in the opening with a grand smile. Charlotte gasped loud. – “Uncle Sherl.” – she called out. Sherlock lowered himself when the little girl came running over. – “Ahh look at you, how’ve grown you are.” – he told her, having picked her up and hugging her. – “How old are you now?” – he asked as you knew it was to test her intelligence.

Charlotte looked down at her own fingers, hesitating a bit to show the right amount. She then held up two fingers. Sherlock laughed overjoyed hugging her tighter. – “And six months.” – you reminded him. Charlotte your oldest was two and a half. While her brother Edmund was but one. Sherlock set her back down as you had gotten up, holding Edmund in your arms. Sherlock went over to you, kissing your cheek. – “Sister.” – he greeted. – “Sherl.” – you greeted back with a teasing smile. 

He gave you a playfully annoyed glance in return. Hating it but secretly not minding it. He then went to Anthony bowing at one another. – “How are you?” – you asked sitting back down. – “Nothing unusual. How are you dear sister.” – Sherlock responded. – “Nothing unusual are you sure about that?” – Anthony spoke as you shot him a glare.

Sherlock frowned. Observing the glances between Anthony and you, he came to a conclusion. Anthony turned to look over at you with a hint of trying to hide his smile. You glaring at him for teasing the snippet then also unable to hide your smile. Sherlock had picked up a spyglass to occupy himself. – “I’m assuming by the look of you two that Mycroft has spilled something.” – he spoke lowering the spyglass. – “How so? Is there perhaps something we should know?” – you asked as Sherlock saw right through your façade of trying to sound oblivious.

He took a deep sigh. – “It was only once.” – Sherlock released. – “To our account two.” – Anthony replied holing up two fingers with a smirk. Sherlock looked up with a heavy sigh. – “Fine two.” – he corrected himself. You set Edmund on the ground with his sister. He immediately slapped his hand towards one of her dolls, interested in the toy in front of him.

“Sherlock! As your married sister I am deeply wounded that you did not consult me on this matter.” – you spoke with a hint of teasing. – “It is not like that.” – he made clear. Anthony and you shared a smirking glance. – “Sherlock a lady came over by our house not once… but twice.” – you had gotten up joining Anthony on the sofa.

The two of you quirked your eyebrow at him. Sherlock pointed the spyglass back at you. – “I don’t like how the two of you are conspiracy against me.” – he spoke. – “Well it runs in the family.” – you replied moving your hand down on Anthony’s lap. Anthony took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. – “When can we meet her?” – you questioned.

He saw the delight in your eyes, making him regret ever engaging in the matter. – “What is her name?” – Anthony wanted to know. – “Is she polite? Well-mannered?” – he continued. – “Is she intelligent? Resourceful?” – you asked knowing the right questions. Sherlock looked at the two of you, seeing how truly you two were matched for each other.

He took a deep sigh. – “Her name is Irene Adler.” – he explained. Anthony and you looked at each other teasingly. – “Who is Irene?” – Charlotte suddenly asked out of the blue. It made Anthony laugh loud. – “Uncle Sherl is in love with her.” – you told her. – “I am not!” – Sherlock protested. Sherlock’s cheeks puffed up with annoyance as it made you laugh loud.

Charlotte ran up to Sherlock. – “Uncle Sherl do you like her like mommy and daddy do?” – she asked making Anthony and you have the time of your life. Sherlock glared over at you. – “See what your foolishness brings.” – he bit at you. – “Oh Sherlock we are only teasing you.” – you told him getting up. You went up to him, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his forehead. – “I’m only doing you a favour.” – you whispered to him. – “I rather have it that you do not.”

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Anthony and you walked arm in arm onto the grass. Both of you were holding a pamphlet. – “I told you to  bet on Lucky boy.” – Anthony said. You rolled your eyes on him. – “Lucky boy is overrated. All you men do is bet on that horse because of his heritage.” – you told him. – “Lucky boy comes from a family of winners!” – Anthony made clear. You laughed loud making Anthony quirk his eyebrow annoyed at you. - “Who have you betted on then?” – he wanted to know snatching the pamphlet from out of your hands.

He quickly read down the name you had betted on. – “High flag?” – he called out. – “He is but a youngling.” – Anthony went on. – “Oh darling Y/n you have made a mistake there. There is not a chance High flag can win this race from Lucky boy.” – he finished with a smug face. You ripped the pamphlet out of his hand. – “Let us see then!” – you threw a witty glance at him removing your arm from him. Anthony gaped at you as you went on without him.

“Y/n.” – he hissed out lowly as he came jogging after you. You went towards the stands at the side-line of the tracks. – “Excuse me.” – you said wanting to get passed some people already sitting down. – “Y/n!” – Anthony shout-whispered after you. He smiled uncomfortable at a lord who raised his eyebrow at the intention of his voice. You went further down the line, blinking surprised upon seeing your brother. – “Sherlock?” – you said. Sherlock got up in a haste.

“Sister.” – he responded, his voice a tone higher. Was he perhaps embarrassed of seeing you here? Or was he hiding something? A man’s posture came in vision from behind Sherlock. It made you shift your gaze to him curiously. Sherlock cleared his throat, turning his posture more so you could see the fellow better. – “Mister John Watson.” – Sherlock introduced.

“Watson, my sister Viscountess Y/n Bridgerton.” – he introduced you with a smile. You felt a warm on your shoulder followed by a loud breath. – “Don’t run…” – Anthony began before he noticed your brother. – “Oh Sherlock, how pleasant to see you here.” – Anthony breathed out tipping his hat to him. – “Sherlock was just introducing me to his friend.” – you told your husband. – “More like business partner.” – Sherlock corrected you.

Sherlock introduced Anthony as well to Watson. Anthony and you sat down along with the others. John Watson sitting beside you. You were looking at the tracks, lowly arguing with your husband about the horses. A lady came in view making you stop your friendly bickering. Sherlock jumped up, straightening his jacket. – “Miss Irene.” – he said taking a bow. Anthony and you looked at each other, first surprised then full of mischief.

“Is that seat taking?” – she asked pointing at a spot near Sherlock. – “Of course not!” – Sherlock declared making more room. Which resulted in John being pressed closer to you and you to your husband to make room for her. Irene sat down as you watched Sherlock be out of himself. Fumbling nervously with his hands. He was so smitten with her, she had made him default.

The bell got rang as it announced the start of the race. You got on the edge of your seat looking to the left from where the horses would come. Their hooves trampled the grass, gripping out earth as they ran. They came closer as you got up out. – “That’s it Lucky boy!” – Anthony called out beside you. – “Come on High flag, steady!” – you said loud. – “Yes!” – Anthony declared. – “Steady! Steady!” – you shouted loud cheering on for High flag.

The horses came racing almost right in front of you, sprinting for the last few yards. Everybody else on the seats were getting up as well. – “Come now High flag!” – you yelled followed by loud whistling. Having put your fingers between your lips to whistle. You kept whistling as it caught Anthony’s attention, making him stare bewildered at you.

Irene furrowed her brows, looking at Sherlock. – “All in the good of sport.” – he told her giving an explanation for your enthusiasm. The horses passed as Anthony was getting agitated. – “Come on! Come on!” – he kept shouting over at Lucky Boy. – “Yes! Yes!” – you cheered over his words to High flag. The horses neared the finish as you were beyond yourself.

Jumping up and down knowing you have won. There was no way Lucky boy could gain on High flag now. The flag swirled in the air the moment the horses ran over the line. You cheered loud as Anthony wanted to throw his hat on the ground out of frustration. You took a hold of your husband, continue to jump and cheer. It made him turn his head to you with a grand smile. This was what made him love you so much. You weren’t afraid to show your enthusiasm and never back down for any man.

“How does it feel to be a sore loser.” – you told him. Anthony breathed out a laugh wrapping an arm around your waist. – “I may be a loser in betting, but I am certainly a winner with having you.” – he expressed. You smiled at him before kissing him. John beside you took a deep breath. – “The adrenaline is high here.” – he chuckled out. Slowly you all descended down the seats joining your brother and his business partner. Irene still standing near him.

“Miss Irene Adler I presume?” – you asked her. – “Yes.” – Irene spoke. Anthony came by your side keeping his hand on your lower back. – “A pleasure to finally meet you. I am Sherlock’s sister.” – you told her. Irene curtsied before you. – “I am very excited to see how this season will end.” – you said with a chuckle. Looking over at your brother, you winked at him.

Sherlock rolling with his eyes. Anthony kissed your cheek before speaking to your brother. – “After all we have experience of scheming. How does a carriage ride sound darling?” – Anthony spoke looking over at you. – “Thrilling.” – you responded with a smile. Sherlock swallowed nervously afraid of what you and your husband would be cooking up. Perhaps a way of revenge on what he had inflicted on the both of you. Irene and John both looking confused at each other. For only the three of you knew the story behind the words.   

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

[fyodior]

☾ SWEET DREAMS ? ☽

for: @hotaru-morii, vi, and perry

✧ pairing: dazai x fem reader

✧ cw: DARK CONTENT, somnophilia, dub-con, implied that reader enjoys it but still asleep, vaginal sex, brief vaginal fingering, dazai being a horndog, 18+ only MINORS DNI!

✧ notes: the second fic for my 1k event !! thanks again to everyone who requested im having a super fun time with these heehee

✧ wc: 1k

dark content disclaimer: pls remember this is entirely fiction with absolutely no reflection of reality! i do not condone this nor any other dc i write, pls just block or unfollow if you don't like it, and do NOT report or leave hate comments please!

Dazai stared at the erection that was throbbing between his legs, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers that were already stained with precum. It was 3:42 AM and he had just woken up from quite the wild sex dream, unconsciously rutting hard against the mattress and groaning into his pillow like a teenage boy. Now Dazai just laid there pitifully on his back and wondered what to do with himself.

He looked to his left to see you sleeping ever so peacefully next to him, your back facing him as you hugged your pillow and snored softly. And he wanted you so fucking bad.

Dazai knew that he could wake you up, but he really didn’t want to. You had been having a rough time with school and work, and this was the first night you had made it to bed before 2 AM in over a week – you didn’t deserve to be woken up. But that didn’t negate the fact that he was painfully hard, and his hand was not going to cut it.

He flipped onto his side to face you, and watched with adoration in his eyes as you stirred lightly and whispered a few incoherent sentences in your sleep. There was no way he could wake you up.

His eyes flitted downwards. You were curled into a slight fetal position and the blankets were only half on you after Dazai had thrown them off himself, meaning your almost bare ass was on full display. He traced the edges of your thin panties with his finger and argued with himself in his head.

Was it wrong to fuck you in your sleep? Maybe, potentially. But was he so overwhelmingly horny and in need of relief he could barely think straight? Definitely.

He’d do his best to not wake you up.

Being sure to not make any too sudden or jolty moves, Dazai shimmied his boxers off to free his cock, the angry red hue visible even with only the dim light filtering in from the window. Even just gripping it made him hiss.

Back on his side now, he was starting to feel a bit guilty as he eyed your peaceful frame, but now all he could imagine was your perfect pussy wrapped around his neglected cock and there was no way he was getting that out of his head.

Dazai used two fingers to pull your panties to the side then slid his digits past your cheeks, using only touch to find your pussy. It wasn’t hard – he knew your body like the back of his hand. He pulled back his fingers briefly to coat them in spit before returning.

His fingertips grazed your entrance and circled it slowly, checking for any reaction from you, before pushing past your hole. You were still out cold, but Dazai could feel the muscles react at the sudden presence of his fingers. He didn’t plan for them to be in there long, just needed to pump them in and out a few times to at least prep you a little. The knot in his stomach and the heat between his thighs wouldn’t allow for much more than that.

Before Dazai even knew what he was doing, he was pressing his chest to your back and lining himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock lingering briefly before burying himself inside you. A small whine fled your lips as he bottomed out and he stilled immediately, but you immediately returned back to your limp state.

Meanwhile, Dazai’s lips almost bled as his teeth dug into them trying to hold back the groans of relief that he so badly wanted to let out. He had planned to take it slow, just lazy thrusts to get him through, but he couldn’t help himself.

Dazai grabbed your leg at the knee and raised it to grant him better access before pulling out and thrusting back into you, probably harder than he should have. The attention his desperate cock was finally getting sent electricity through his veins, and he was damn near seeing stars.

Soon he was hiking your leg up more before letting himself fall into a rhythm, rocking in and out of you with increasing speed. The feeling of your perfect pussy wrapped around his hard-on, clenching around him was intoxicating, and he needed more. Every thrust was only making Dazai bolder. And the way you were quickly slicking up without even knowing it wasn’t lost on him, either.

Dazai was fucking into you greedily now, struggling to not take advantage of the fact that you were still fast asleep, despite the pitiful whines and moans you let out unconsciously. Every thrust squelched loudly as his precum and your slick mixed, allowing his cock to slide in and out of your welcoming pussy with ease.

“God, so fucking perfect for me,” he grumbled to himself. “Taking my cock so good and you don’t even know it.”

You twitched at the words, then yelped as the tip of his cock grazed your cervix. Pure ecstasy threaded itself through your dreams and filled your sleeping brain as Dazai used you. Your body seemed to love getting stuffed by your boyfriend just as much as your mind normally did.

Dazai knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, could already feel the heat in his gut and the twitch in his balls grow as he came closer to what he had been needing for so long. He couldn’t stop himself from gripping your hips and pulling your ass towards his cock to meet his thrusts, erratically chasing his orgasm.

It wasn’t long before Dazai hit his climax, moaning as his balls tightened and shot hot cum inside you, your pussy happily drinking up every last drop. He gently lowered your leg he was still holding up before pulling his softening cock out of you, watching in awe as both his and your cum dripped out of your stretched hole.

He felt a bit guilty as his head fell back against the pillow and briefly wondered about how he was going to explain why you were leaking cum when you did wake up, but right then, Dazai didn’t care – you gave him what he so desperately needed. He’d just be sure to thank you in the morning.

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter one | echoes of the past.

masterlist

universe : reeves, the batman 2022.

pairing : battinson!bruce wayne x fem!oc.

words : +6k.

synopsis : “In the dark heart of Gotham City, Dr. Maryam Halimi, a medical examiner of now 2 years, navigates a life steeped in tragedy and secrets. Her routine of grim autopsies is disrupted when a notorious serial killer strikes, plunging the city into chaos. As bodies mount, Maryam’s world intersects with the enigmatic Batman, whose presence both unsettles and fascinates her. Struggling with her growing feelings for the vigilante and the mounting dangers of her work, Maryam must unravel a web of deceit and face her deepest fears. In a city where trust is a rare commodity, survival hinges on deciphering the truth behind the murders and the shadowy figure who haunts her nights.”

author’s note : I’ve had this story in my drafts for three years. It’s also my first time posting a fic, so please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language. I’ve had this idea for longer than I can remember, but I’m really excited to finally share it. Please don’t hesitate to leave comments or anonymous asks—I love reading them!

dedications : maryam is dedicated to my fellow avoidant attachment girlies 🫡 Seriously though, this chapter is dedicated to a few incredible authors who inspired and encouraged me to share this fic. Their work is truly amazing, and I highly recommend checking out their fics. Your support and creativity have been a driving force for me—thank you! @punchdrunkdoc @devilfic @hollandorks @zipperzoo @ellesthots @gilverrwrites @mostly-imagines and anyone I might have forgotten <3

cw : bruce is emotionally constipated, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, comedy, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

          THE CLOCK on the wall ticked steadily toward 10 PM, its sound a quiet metronome in the stillness of the hospital morgue. 

The sterile, cold room, where life was reduced to clinical examination, felt even more somber tonight. 

Inside, Dr. Maryam Halimi sat at her desk, surrounded by the stark white walls and stainless steel instruments, her head bent over a pale dead body. 

Her light brown hair, pulled into a French twist beneath a whimsical unicorn scrub cap, had a soft caramel sheen that complemented her naturally tanned skin—almost bronze. Beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the morgue, her almond-shaped hazel eyes shifted from a greenish tint to a gentle golden, giving a sharp contrast to her sun-kissed complexion. Her nose, straight with a slight, almost invisible bump, added a touch of character to her otherwise sharp, sculpted features.

Her high cheekbones framed a face that was both delicate and strong, her skin dotted with beauty marks like tiny constellations—under her eyes, just above her full lips, and trailing softly along her neck. Each mark was a reminder that her beauty was real, lived-in, and perfectly imperfect. She favored a classic red lipstick that added a pop of color to her naturally plump lips, making her shy smile all the more captivating.

Her eyebrows were gracefully arched, framing her eyes with a subtlety that highlighted their expressiveness. Long, dark lashes curled naturally, casting soft shadows over her cheeks.

Dr. Halimi was a stunning woman, someone possessing an undeniable and timeless beauty that could turn heads with a single glance. Yet, hers was also the kind of beauty that grew more striking the longer you looked, drawing you in with its quiet elegance and understated grace. It was the type of allure that left a lasting impression, a beauty that was both captivating and comforting in its subtlety.

She had just finished examining the latest tragic case: Fiona Harrinson.

A pale young girl of only nineteen, with fiery red hair and blue eyes that had turned a disquieting red—a common occurrence in deaths involving certain substances. A life that had barely begun, now extinguished by the scourge of "Drops," a drug as ubiquitous in Gotham as the rain. Fiona, like so many others, had sought solace in the chemical embrace of drugs, a brief escape from the harsh realities of living on the streets without support. 

With a heavy sigh, Maryam gently covered the girl's lifeless face, a ritual she never grew accustomed to, no matter how many times she performed it.

Each time, it felt like closing a chapter on a life story that ended too soon, and the sadness never fully dissipated. Fiona had no family to notify, no one to mourn her passing—just another casualty of Gotham's underworld, another soul lost in the shadows.

As Maryam turned to her desk, ready to tackle the inevitable paperwork, the door creaked open. Tamara Nguyen, known affectionately as Tammy, breezed in with her usual air of lateness and cheer, two steaming cups of coffee in hand.

Tammy was petite, with a delicate frame that belied her boundless energy. Her glossy black hair, cut into a sleek bob, framed a face that was all wide, warm brown eyes and a ready smile. She had a habit of wearing bright, colorful scrubs that matched her lively personality, reminding Maryam of her sister Rania.

Tam’s presence was like a burst of sunshine in the often somber atmosphere of the morgue, and despite her frequent tardiness, she had a way of making everything feel just a little bit lighter.

"Heeyyy, sorry I'm late, as always," Tammy said with a sheepish grin. "But I brought coffee!"

Maryam didn't look up immediately, her pen still dancing across the forms. "It's okay, Tammy," she replied, her voice tinged with a teasing warmth. Finally, she glanced up, a playful smile curving her lips. "I'm used to it."

She accepted the coffee, savoring the warmth as it flowed down her throat, offering a brief moment of comfort. Tammy leaned against the desk, peering curiously at the covered body on the examination table.

"So, what do we have?" Tammy asked, her eyes flicking between Maryam and the still form under the sheet.

Maryam sighed, setting her coffee down next to the papers, wincing as a few drops stained the corner of the form. She rubbed her temples, eyes closed briefly in weariness. "Another Drop case, as usual," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. Her hands dropped to her lap, her hazel eyes now open and glinting with a mix of concern and anger. "It's getting out of hand. Too many bodies, too many kids, dead because of those fucking drugs! If it's not Drops, it's some other damn substance. And nobody's listening! I tried talking to Commissioner Savage and the cops—"

Tammy interrupted, her voice soft but resigned. "As if the cops would listen. They're all bought up by you-know-who," she muttered, her breath fogging up her coffee cup.

Maryam leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I know, Tam," she said, exasperation seeping into her tone. "But I thought they'd at least try to do something. For God's sake, it's mostly kids dying from this stuff!" She threw her hands up in frustration, her voice rising slightly at the end.

A tense silence fell over the room, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioning. The weight of the city's problems felt like an invisible fog, hanging thickly between them. 

Tammy, trying to lighten the mood, ventured with a teasing smile, "Maybe you should ask Gotham's vigilante. He might help you."

Maryam snorted, the tension breaking as she threw a pen at Tammy, who dodged it with a laugh. "Ha ha, very funny," Maryam said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll just pop over to his cave and have a nice little chat. Maybe he'll even offer me some bat-themed snacks."

Tammy chuckled, shaking her head. "You never know. He might surprise you."

Maryam stretched her legs and neck, sighing tiredly for what felt like the tenth time that day. She picked up her pen, refocusing on the paperwork in front of her. "Can you please put her in the fridge?" she asked, her voice softening. "I'm going to finish her paperwork. She has no family, no one to cover funeral expenses or claim the body, so I'll have to turn it over to a funeral home."

Tammy nodded, taking a final sip of her coffee before setting the empty cup on the desk. She moved to the body, her demeanor professional as she prepared to transfer Fiona to the cold storage. "Where did they find her?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"Under the Gotham Gate Bridge," Maryam replied, quickly adding, "Some kid going trick-or-treating found her and reported it to the police."

Tammy made an "oh" with her mouth, her face a picture of quiet sympathy. "Poor kid," she murmured, shaking her head as she pushed the rolling table away.

The television in the corner of the room played the nightly news on GC-1. The anchor's voice was a constant, soothing drone, providing background noise to their grim work. "It is Halloween night in Gotham," the anchor announced cheerfully. "Tourists are flocking to the city from all over the world to experience our unique festivities. But tonight also marks the anniversary of a tragic event in Gotham's history..."

The mention of the Waynes caught Maryam's attention. She glanced at the TV and turned up the volume, her eyes narrowing as images of Thomas and Martha Wayne appeared on the screen. The anchor's voice carried a somber tone, narrating the unfolding story.

"This week, we remember the tragic deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne, beloved billionaires and philanthropists, who were brutally murdered in front of their young son, Bruce Wayne. The Waynes were Gotham's first family, revered pillars of our community known for their immense generosity and tireless philanthropy. Their loss left a profound impact on the city, and their memory still resonates deeply with many. Their son, Bruce, now a reclusive billionaire, rarely leaves the confines of his family estate. The Waynes' legacy remains a significant chapter in Gotham's history..."

The camera lingered on old photos of the Wayne’s: Thomas, with his charismatic smile; Martha, radiant and elegant; and a young Bruce, holding his mother's hand. Maryam watched, transfixed, the light from the TV reflecting in her hazel eyes. Their family had always seemed like royalty to the people of Gotham—untouchable, revered. Their legacy was intertwined with the city's very foundation, their wealth and influence reaching every corner of Gotham.

Despite her disdain for the wealthy—or any billionaire, for that matter—Maryam couldn't forget Bruce Wayne.

Twenty years ago, every Thursday afternoon, she would take the subway to fetch food for her family. It was during these trips that she would catch glimpses of Bruce Wayne and his mother. Mrs. Wayne, with her striking blue eyes that mirrored her son's, would sit with a book in one hand, her other gently holding her son’s. Bruce, just a small boy back then, would clutch a tiny knight figurine, his face often illuminated by a shy, endearing smile. 

A security officer stood vigil a few meters away, his watchful gaze scanning the crowd with an intensity that always made Maryam feel uneasy.

Maryam, in her torn tights that clung to her slender legs and a light brown jacket that offered little solace against Gotham’s relentless chill, would sit nervously in the corner, her eyes fixed on the Wayne family.

Sometimes, Bruce would catch her gaze and offer a small, shy smile, maybe even a brave little wave. 

In those fleeting moments, Maryam's heart would race, and she would quickly look away, embarrassed by her uninvited curiosity.

This silent routine unfolded every Thursday until that fateful week. 

On that day, Bruce accidentally left his knight figurine behind. Maryam, noticing the abandoned toy on the seat, picked it up. It was clearly a cherished possession, expensive and well-loved. She resolved to return it to him the next week, gathering her courage to finally speak to him. 

But that meeting never came.

Indeed, the next day, the Waynes were tragically and brutally murdered.

Maryam remembered that night vividly. She was watching her favorite cartoon on the small TV in her aunt Meysa's cramped living room. Bruce’s figurine sat beside her, gleaming under the TV’s flickering light. Her head in her hands, she straightened up when the news interrupted her show.

“We regret to inform you that at 10:47 PM, Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot and killed. They were leaving the Monarch Theater when they were attacked. Thomas and Martha died at the scene. Their son, Bruce Wayne, witnessed the tragedy. The GCPD has yet to apprehend the alleged killer.”

Maryam’s aunt, Meysa, with her short bob of curly jet-black hair always tied in a slick bun, olive skin, and beauty marks, was also transfixed, frowning and barely understanding.

"What did he say?" she asked in Arabic.

"They died. They were killed," Maryam translated, mimicking a gun with her hand, whispering, "Pooh, pooh."

"Astaghfirullah, Maryam! Don’t do that!" Meysa exclaimed, gently slapping her hand away. Maryam frowned, her eyes returning to the TV.

"The kid, what is his name, I forgot—" Meysa started.

"Bruce," Maryam corrected.

"Yes, yes, Bryce—" Meysa continued, mispronouncing the name.

"It’s Bruce, not Bryce," Maryam corrected again, a slight smile tugging at her lips despite the gravity of the situation.

"Yes, is he dead too?" Meysa asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

"No. They say he's the only survivor. He watched them being killed," Maryam explained, her little fingers nervously fidgeting with the knight figurine.

"Lotf, lotf!" Aunt Meysa exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth, covering it with her apron in horror.

"I feel bad for him," Maryam murmured, the figurine still a comforting presence in her hands.

"Don’t be. It is God's will. Everything is written, habibti," Meysa said after a moment of silence, the TV casting a flickering glow over them. She began gathering her things, preparing to leave for work. "Besides, he is still blessed with all his money and houses. He is not homeless and will have food on his table tonight."

At this, Maryam’s stomach grumbled loudly. Meysa raised an eyebrow, adding gently but firmly, "Unlike us." Maryam scoffed, feeling the weight of their reality pressing down on her.

"Don’t scoff at me, Mimi. Make sure your sisters are still asleep. I'm going to work," Meysa instructed.

She didn’t respond, clutching Bruce's figurine tightly as she listened to the door click shut behind her aunt, her gaze fixed on the TV as it continued its somber report.

Maryam shook her head, trying to dispel the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm her. 

She refocused on her stack of papers, but before she could even continue, her phone buzzed, Gordon’s name flashing on the screen. With a sigh and a quick tap on the green button,  she answered and switched it to speaker.

“Hey, Jamie. What’s up?” she asked tiredly, trying to sound casual.

“Hey, Mar.” Gordon’s voice was clipped, urgent. “We need you at the Mayor’s house right now. Something’s happened. Police are on their way.” Then reluctantly adding, voice lowering “The Mayor’s wife called. Her husband was murdered.”

Maryam's breath caught in her throat for a split second, but she quickly steadied herself. “Okay, I’m on my way.” she said, not needing any more details.

“Thanks, Mar. I’ll see you soon.” Gordon hung up, his thanks echoed in her ear.

Maryam glanced at her phone, her mind racing with worry, primarily about George, the mayor’s son. Was he safe? Had he been hurt—or worse, killed? Shaking her head to dispel the gnawing anxiety, she abruptly stood up, her chair rolling backward with a loud squeak. Gathering the stacks of papers with determined urgency, she made her way to the room where the bodies were kept. As she entered, she found Tammy scrubbing the tools used for the autopsy, her movements methodical and focused. 

“Gordon needs me,” Maryam announced, her voice clipped with urgency. “I’ve done most of the paperwork. Can you finish up? It’s an emergency.”

Tammy looked up, eyes widening “No problem! Have fun!”

Despite the severity of the situation, Maryam snorted, “Yeah, I’ll be sure to send you a postcard from the crime scene.”

As Maryam stripped off her black scrubs and the scrub cap adorned with tiny unicorns, she quickly dressed in her civilian clothes. Despite the rush, her French twist updo remained perfectly styled. She stumbled through the empty hospital corridors in her black high-heeled boots, the click-clack of her heels echoing through the space as she balanced her medical kit and car keys.

The cold Gotham air enveloped her as she made her way to the parking lot. Just as she was about to reach her car, someone grabbed her arm, abruptly stopping her. Instinctively, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, her expression already hardening into a glare. "What—"

“Where are you going like that, Miriam?” The voice was smooth, too smooth, belonging to none other than Dr. Thomas Elliot, the hospital’s head of neurology renowned for his surgical skills and handsome features, stood before her, his blonde hair meticulously combed back. His eyes, brown almost black eyes twinkled as he gave her a once-over gleamed with something unsettling, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Maryam huffed, yanking her arm back and adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “To a crime scene, Dr. Elliot.” Her tone was cold, her eyes narrowing. “And it’s Maryam, not Miriam.”

Dr. Elliot’s smirk widened, undeterred by her frosty demeanor. “Come on, I was just teasing, you know that,” he said smoothly. “And I’ve told you many times, call me Tommy.”

Maryam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t particularly like him, despite his charms that seemed to win over everyone else at the hospital. He was a gifted surgeon, undeniably handsome, and came from a wealthy family with the charm to match. 

To many, he was the perfect man. But to Maryam, there was something deeply unsettling about him. Her sixth sense always cast an alarm whenever he was near, as if he was hiding something dark behind that charming facade.

At first, she had thought she was just being overly cautious. Dr. Elliot had seemed too nice, the perfect doctor who always listened to his patients. But there was a strange sense of superiority in him, a subtle way he diminished others just because he could. He used his charm and wit to manipulate people, often for personal gain—most often, it seemed, for sex. 

Maryam had seen the way he looked at people, as if they were puzzles to be solved or pieces on a chessboard to be maneuvered.

But what disturbed Maryam the most was his behavior when he had to deliver bad news to a patient’s family. He would play the role of the empathetic surgeon flawlessly, but as soon as he turned his back to the grieving family, a sardonic smile would spread across his face. It wasn’t a one-time thing; it happened too many times for her to ignore. Each time she witnessed it, it chilled her to the bone.

To the rest of the world, Dr. Elliot was friendly and outgoing, but to Maryam, it all felt like a carefully constructed ruse. 

Maybe she was too observant, too wary, or even too avoidant of people. Dr. Elliot’s influence at the hospital was undeniable, and she knew that voicing her concerns could lead to serious repercussions. So, she tried to be civil, keeping her distance as much as possible. But Dr. Elliot was relentless, always flirting, always trying to get under her skin, as if he enjoyed watching her squirm under his attention. 

“You look stressed, Maryam. Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, stepping closer, his voice oozing with false concern.

Maryam instinctively took a step back, determined to maintain her distance. “I’m fine, thank you. I deal with stress by actually doing my job.”

Dr. Elliot chuckled, clearly amused by her sarcasm. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you? I like that.”

Maryam gave him a tight-lipped smile, her patience wearing thin. “I’m glad you’re entertained, Dr. Elliot. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Tommy,” he corrected again, moving into her space again, his smirk never fading. “Like I said, you don’t have to be so formal. We’re colleagues, after all.”

Maryam sidestepped him, her eyes flashing with irritation. “And as colleagues, I’m sure you understand the importance of professionalism. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really have to go.”

As she turned on her heel and made a beeline for her car, she could feel his gaze lingering on her, a heavy weight that made her skin crawl. There was something unsettling about Dr. Elliot, something that set off alarm bells deep in her subconscious. He was too perfect, too polished, his charm a thin veneer over something far more sinister. 

He was a man who thrived on control, on bending others to his will, and his interest in her felt like a noose slowly tightening around her neck. But Maryam was not one to be easily swayed or intimidated. She had survived far worse than the likes of Thomas Elliot, and she had no intention of becoming another one of his conquests.

Sliding into the driver’s seat and tossing her tool bag onto the passenger side, Maryam took a deep breath, pushing away the lingering unease. As she turned the key in the ignition, she muttered, "Come on, you rusty old piece of junk, don’t fail me now." The engine sputtered to life with a reluctant growl. She exhaled deeply, her grip on the steering wheel tightening as she prepared to face the long road ahead.

The night was only beginning, a long road ahead and the crime scene awaited, and she couldn’t afford to let anyone—or anything—distract her from her duty.

────୨ৎ────

          Speeding through the streets, a cigarette dangling from her perfectly red-coated lips, Maryam navigated Gotham's chaos with a focused intensity. The radio blared in the background, blending with the city's constant hum as she wove through the traffic.

When she found herself stuck behind a slow-moving car, frustration bubbled up inside her. The driver behind her began shouting, their impatience palpable. Maryam rolled down her window, the cigarette hanging precariously from her lips, and shouted back, “What do you want me to do, run over his car, you imbecile?” Her hands flailed dramatically, and she rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

Mixing Arabic curses, she added, “Yallah, move it, you moron! What’s wrong with you, huh?”

As the traffic finally cleared, Maryam sped off, her car swerving slightly as she took another drag from her cigarette. 

Maryam arrived at the mayor's residence twenty-five minutes later, her patience frayed. Skidding to a halt outside the mayor’s grandiose home, she yanked open her car door and grabbed her ID card from the glove compartment. The harsh light from Gotham’s streetlamps stretched long, distorted shadows across the steps.

As she approached, a police officer moved to direct her away, but Maryam swiftly flashed her credentials and snapped, “I’m the Medical Examiner, not some nosy neighbor. Let me in.”

The officer huffed in exasperation but, recognizing her credentials, waved her through. Maryam slammed the car door behind her, crushing the cigarette under her heel and shouldering her kit with a determined stride.  As she looked up, she saw the Bat-Signal cutting through the Gotham night sky.

It casted a sinister glow across the city, like a dark omen etched into the heavens. Its stark, angular shape pierced through the fog and mist, its light a harsh beacon against the oppressive darkness. To the city's criminals, it was less a symbol of hope and more a harbinger of dread—a relentless reminder that their actions had consequences. It wasn’t just a call for help; it was an unyielding warning, a fearsome promise that retribution was on its way. 

Inside, the cacophony of the crime scene unfolded like a dissonant symphony: the hum of forensic equipment, the subdued murmur of conversation, and the occasional clatter of equipment.

Officer Martinez, ever the beacon of positivity amid the chaos—a trait that reminded Maryam of her cheerful assistant, Tammy—spotted her and made his way over, his face etched with concern. "Hey, Mar... Thanks for coming so quickly. It's a mess in there” he looked around, eyebrows furrowed, and I think we're all in for a long night." He added with a sight.

Maryam, her cheeks flushed with the urgency of the situation, gave him a terse nod. "No problem, Lucas. I’ll handle it from here.” A small pause, “What’s the rundown?"

Martinez scratched his head, his usual cheerfulness dimmed by the gravity of the scene. "So, the mayor's dead. Murdered. Found by his wife and kid. You’ll see the worst of it in the study. Bullock’s up there, but you know how he is—probably got a cigar stuck in his mouth and a scowl on his face."

Maryam managed a wry smile. "Of course he does. Thanks for the heads-up."

As Martinez led her through the throngs of officers and past the forensic team in their immaculate white suits, Maryam felt a knot of unease tighten in her chest. The crime scene was a carefully orchestrated mess: a tangle of evidence, forensic cameras flashing intermittently, and the low murmur of detectives piecing together the nightmare.

Bullock was leaning against the wall outside the study, puffing away on a cigar that left a trail of acrid smoke swirling in the air. His eyes were tired but sharp as they tracked Maryam’s approach.

"Dr. Halimi," Bullock greeted gruffly, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Glad you’re here. We could use a fresh set of eyes on this mess."

Maryam flashed him a sardonic grin as she stepped past him. "Just what I needed after a long day—a front-row seat to Gotham’s newest tragedy. You know me, always up for a good dose of horror."

Bullock smirked, shaking his head. "Always with the sass and jokes. You’d think by now you’d be used to it."

Maryam shrugged, her gaze drifting towards the study’s entrance. "If you’re not laughing, you’re crying, right?"

As she stepped into the study, the scene that greeted her was both grotesque and meticulously staged : Mayor Don Mitchell Jr. lay sprawled across a chair in his study, his body arranged in a macabre tableau. His head, mummified in duct tape, was covered in blood, and a chilling message in red read: “NO MORE LIES.” His thumb was severed, blood pooling around him, making the scene all the more haunting.

Maryam’s eyes swept over the room, taking in every detail—the way the blood spattered across the luxurious carpet, the silent witnesses of scattered papers, and the grim determination of the forensic team working to document every inch. 

She took a deep breath, pushing past her own discomfort to focus on the task at hand.

She approached the body with her medical kit, carefully extracting her tools: a pair of gloves, a scalpel, and a digital camera. The forensic team was busy capturing every angle, but Maryam’s job was to verify and document the specifics of the body’s condition.

She began by photographing the scene. The camera’s flash briefly illuminated the macabre scene: the mayor’s head was encased in duct tape, with the stark message "NO MORE LIES" scrawled across his mouth in red. The severed thumb, a grotesque testament to the brutality of the crime, was captured from multiple angles. Each image was carefully framed to preserve every detail, ensuring that nothing was lost in the documentation process.

Moving on, Maryam retrieved a ruler from her kit. She measured the depth and extent of the wounds with deliberate accuracy, noting the size of the blood pool around the mayor’s mouth, partly hidden by the duct tape. Her observations were meticulously recorded, providing a detailed account of the injuries that would be crucial for understanding the nature of the attack and the victim’s final moments.

Carefully, Maryam began collecting evidence. She bagged a bit of the strips of duct tape used to mummify the mayor’s head, handling them with gloved hands to avoid contamination. Fragments of the mayor’s clothing, stained with blood, were also placed into evidence bags. Each item was labeled and sealed, ensuring that potential evidence was preserved for further forensic analysis.

She then took a moment to examine the scene itself.

Making mental notes of the body’s positioning, the state of the room, and any items that might offer additional context. Her keen hazel eyes swept over the room, noting the arrangement of furniture and any disturbances. This meticulous observation was crucial for piecing together the circumstances surrounding the crime.

Finally, Maryam used a flashlight to explore less obvious areas of the room. She searched under furniture and in corners, her light revealing potential clues that might have been overlooked. Every corner was inspected with care, her flashlight beam dancing over surfaces as she sought out any detail that could shed more light on the murder.

Maryam’s concentration remained intense, her movements precise and deliberate. 

Just as she finished documenting the initial findings, she heard Gordon’s authoritative voice cutting through the room. She paused, her heart quickening as she prepared to brief him on what she had uncovered.

This was indeed going to be a very long night.

────୨ৎ────

      The oppressive atmosphere inside the mayor’s townhouse contrasted sharply with the vibrant city outside. 

This stifling tension only deepened with the arrival of the Bat—accompanied by Commissioner Gordon. The cops stationed at the entrance stared at him with a mix of confusion and disbelief, clearly unsettled by the sight of a man dressed in a bat-themed costume at a crime scene.

But Bruce Wayne paid them no mind, his focus solely on following Gordon through the house. The heavy thud of his boots on the polished wooden floors echoed through the lavishly decorated rooms, each step resonating with a sense of foreboding that seemed to deepen the already heavy air.

The room buzzed with murmured conversations, a chaotic blend of investigators piecing together the grim puzzle

Maryam, her light brown hair neatly secured in her signature French updo, and her hazel eyes sharp and focused, was still meticulously examining the body when Lieutenant James Gordon entered, followed closely by the imposing figure of Gotham's vigilante.

As they stepped into the room, the young officer guarding the door hesitated, his hand instinctively moving to block their path.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa—police action,” he stammered, his voice wavering with tension as he looked up at the vigilante imposing figure.

“He’s right, What the heck is he doing here, Jim?” Bullock grumbled, his irritation evident as he pushed himself off the wall. He shifted to a defensive stance, eyeing the Bat with barely concealed hostility. The sight of the vigilante only served to heighten the tension in the already fraught room.

Batman’s gaze fell upon the officer’s hand with a cold, silent warning. Gordon quickly intervened, his voice steady and authoritative.

“He’s with me, Officers,” Gordon said firmly.

Officer Martinez, visibly dismayed, reluctantly stepped aside, muttering under his breath, “...goddamn freak…”

Bullock shook his head in dismay, hands on his hips, the cigar still dangling from his mouth.

Inside, the room was permeated with the acrid scent of blood and the remnants of a Halloween celebration gone tragically awry. 

As investigators turned to look, Maryam, briefly distracted, spun around to greet Gordon. She nearly bumped into the imposing figure of the vigilante, whose presence felt both overwhelming and intense. In that split second, their eyes locked—her hazel meeting his dark, unreadable blue. Her eyes widened in surprise, while his remained inscrutable. Instinctively, Batman reached out, steadying her with a firm grip on her forearms. 

Maryam quickly stepped back, her fingers brushing against her throat as she composed herself. She cleared her throat and resumed her professional demeanor, though the encounter had left her slightly flustered.

Gordon, noticing the tension, broke the silence. “What do we know?” he asked, addressing the lead detective.

The lead detective, still rattled, glanced at Maryam for her initial findings. She nodded, stepping forward with her report. “The mayor suffered blunt-force trauma with multiple lacerations to the head,” Maryam began, her voice steady. “The fatal blow seems to have been from a heavy object. Most of the blood is from a deep wound in the hand.”

Gordon frowned, processing the information. “All this blood’s from his hand?”

Maryam nodded. “Yes. The thumb was severed postmortem, possibly as a trophy,” she explained, her tone clinical.

Batman, who had been silent, interjected. “He was alive when it was cut off,” he said, his voice low and gravely. He leaned closer to the body, his eyes narrowing as he pointed out a detail. “Ecchymosis around the wound... the bruising indicates he was still alive.”

The room fell silent as everyone processed the grim revelation. Maryam’s gaze met Batman’s again, a shared understanding passing between them. There was something about his presence—dark, intense, yet oddly reassuring—that intrigued her.

Gordon turned to the lead detective, seeking more information. “Security detail downstairs says the family was out trick-or-treating. The mayor was up here alone. Killer came through the skylight,” the detective explained, pointing upwards.

Batman’s attention was drawn to a small, fresh gash in the wooden floor—a detail overlooked by others. He knelt to examine it closely, his movements deliberate and precise. As he did, a photographer noticed and hurriedly snapped a shot, having missed the detail himself.

Gordon, observing the interaction, shifted gears. “There was a card,” he prompted, holding out an envelope.

The detective handed it over, and Gordon pulled out a Halloween-themed card. It featured a creepy skeleton behind a wide-eyed owl, tapping its shoulder. Gordon opened the card and read aloud the unsettling message: “What does a liar do when he’s dead?”

Inside, strange symbols were scrawled. Gordon unfolded another sheet from the envelope, revealing a cipher. “There’s a cipher too... Any of this... mean anything to you...?” he asked, turning to Batman, whose expression remained inscrutable.

Before Batman could respond, the door swung open again, and Commissioner Pete Savage stormed in. His face was a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I asked him to come, Pete,” Gordon said, attempting to defuse the situation.

“This is a crime scene—it’s Mitchell, for Chrissakes—I got press downstairs—!” Savage’s voice rose, barely containing his anger. “You know I cut you a lotta slack, Jim, ‘cuz we got history, but this is way over the line...!”

Gordon handed Savage the card, who read it with growing horror. When Savage saw the envelope addressed to “The Batman,” his expression darkened with suspicion.

“Wait—he’s involved in this—?” Savage demanded, his voice edged with accusation.

Gordon shook his head, maintaining a calm facade. “No, no—he’s not involved—”

Savage’s frustration was palpable. “How do you know? He’s a goddamn vigilante—he could be a suspect! What are you doing to me—he used to be my partner!”

As the argument escalated, Maryam, sensing the tension, decided it was time to leave. 

She pulled off her gloves, tossing them into a nearby bin. Her fingers trembled slightly as she made her way out of the room, her steps quickening as she sought to escape the stifling atmosphere.

In the hallway, Maryam paused, gathering herself before heading toward a nearby room where she knew Elliott, the mayor’s young son, was being questioned. The memories of seeing the little boy during her visits to her aunt’s house surfaced—Meysa had often babysat George, and Mar had developed a fondness for the quiet, sweet child.

As she approached the room, the door was slightly ajar, revealing George sitting on the bed, a detective trying to ask the usual questions to no avail. His small frame trembling with silent sobs.

Without hesitation, Maryam entered, and the boy’s eyes, red and swollen from crying, lit up with recognition. He bolted from the bed, running into her open arms. The doctor knelt, enveloping him in a protective embrace, her hand soothingly stroking his back.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm. “You’re safe now.”

George buried his face in her neck, his small body shaking with suppressed sobs. “Maryam,” he choked out, “I’m so scared. I saw… I saw him…”

Maryam’s heart tightened, and she held him closer, her voice soft and comforting. “I know, sweetheart. I know. It’s all so scary right now, but you’re safe now, okay? You’re a brave boy, and everything’s going to be okay.”

He pulled back slightly, looking up at her with tear-filled eyes. “Why did this happen? Why did they hurt him?” he asked, his voice quivering.

Maryam gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, her expression pained but resolute. “I don’t know,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “But just know that you’re not alone, okay ? There are people who care about you and will protect you. I promise.”

As she spoke, Batman and Gordon made their way down the dimly lit hallway leading to the boy's room. Their faces were shrouded in shadow, the limited light casting long, ominous silhouettes on the walls.

Batman’s gaze fell upon the tender scene before him, and for a moment, his usually stern expression softened. A flicker of something—perhaps empathy, perhaps sorrow—crossed his face as he observed the small, traumatized boy clinging to Maryam.

The sight stirred something deep within him, evoking a haunting reminder of a night 20 years ago.

Gordon, noticing Batman’s reaction, spoke quietly. “We really need to go man,” he murmured, a subtle nudge back to the task at hand.

Turning to leave, Batman couldn’t shake the image of the boy’s tear-streaked face and Maryam’s comforting embrace… A poignant reminder of the innocence lost in the shadows of Gotham’s darkness.

Tu’burni (تقبرني) : Literally meaning, “bury me”. it means you hope that they put you in the ground before them because you couldn’t bear living without them.

[lainiespicewrites]

Electric Summer Ch 3.

AHHH I'm loving this story so much!!! Here's chapter 3! I couldn't stop writing this lol

Summary: Sy and Lainie get ready for the campers to arrive. Everyone gets to know each other. It's a perfect summer day until...the weather takes a turn.

warnings: light cursing.

Reblogs and comments ALWAYS welcome! Please let me know what you think!!

Link for Ch2

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That night I barely slept. Buzzing with all of the energy from the day. The adrenaline and excitement and the butterflies. All of it ran through me like a high I didn’t want to come off of. But still I was skeptical. Was this the universe at play or was it just a coincidence? No, it couldn’t be. Not when all of my emotions seemed to be even stronger in his presence. And as much as I’d like to deny it, I still thought about him often. I had tried to let all of this go. But it’s like he had this grip on me. Everytime I tried to go out with someone new or go on a date. Or let someone touch me. It felt like I was betraying him. I knew that wasn’t true. I know Sy. He never really wanted me to wait forever, I don’t think either of us ever thought we’d see each other again. And if I had seen someone or been with someone he’d never hold that against me. But I just couldn’t do it. 

At some point I must’ve drifted off to a restless sleep. My alarm woke me at 6:30AM. After our dip in the lake yesterday I definitely needed a shower. After a quick morning shower and getting ready for the day. In just some simple workout shorts and a t-shirt. It was supposed to get hot today. I decided to start working on decorations for the cabin before breakfast. I remember one year our counselor made signs with  our names on them to hang over whatever bunk we’d chosen. I loved that idea. 

I went through the roster becca had given me when I’d checked in yesterday and got to work carefully drawing each name and fun summer designs on each one. I wasn’t much of an artist but I was genuinely pretty impressed with myself. 

Then I started to hang the garland letters sign I made for our door. Each year camp has a theme. And our counselors would come up with a name for our group or our cabin before we got there. It was always fun guessing and anticipating what cabin we would get. This year’s theme was classic movies. I smiled proudly to myself as I taped the string to the door after checking one last time to make sure it was straight. We were the “Pink Ladies” I may have a serious obsession with the film Grease. 

I’d decided that if we were paired with one of the boys cabins we would be the pink ladies and I’d convince the boys counselor to be the T-birds. Luckily, Sy didn’t take much convincing. We talked about it yesterday before we started going over the icebreaker games. Although he did briefly try to change my mind and talked about the boys doing a “Top Gun” theme but he conceeded when I pouted. I made both our signs last night. After about an hour of trying to fall asleep I gave up and sat on the floor cutting the letters out of cardstock. I planned on taking the sign over to him  after I figured out how to hang the fairy lights over the rafters. I climbed up onto the top bunk and started there making my way around the perimeter of the cabin. But there was still one long beam across the middle I started on the top bunk in one corner of the room but that only got me so far. I Pulled the little table in the center of the room over and climbed up standing on top of it. It was just tall enough for me to be able to toss the lights around and catch it on the other side of the beam. Just as I’d moved the table and climbed back up to start another section I heard the screen door open. 

“What are you doin?” He asked an edge of panic in his voice. Sy was leaning against the door frame watching me. 

“Hanging lights.” I shrugged, turning back to the task at hand. 

“You’re gonna get hurt,” He said. Walking over to the table staring up at me to meet my eyes. I looked down shaking my head. 

“I am not! I’m almost done once I finish this part I’m gonna climb onto the other bunk.” I explained wrapping the lights around one more time before starting to get down. I felt Logan’s hands on my waist steadying me and helping me off the table. “Thanks” I blushed turning away from him quickly it was to early for this. 

“Anytime darlin, you want some help?” He asked. I shook my head as I climbed the ladder to the top bunk diagonal from mine. 

“Nope this is the last part!” I said as I finished wrapping the lights around the beam. “Did you need something?” I asked. Looking down at him.

“Yeah you not to give me a heart attack!” He joked. I chuckled. 

“I was fine Logan!” I argued. He shook his head. 

“I was actually coming to see if you were ready to head over to breakfast?” He asked I looked down at my watch and looked back up. 

“Is it 8:30 already?” I asked. He nodded. 

“Sure is!” He smiled. I hopped down from the bunk laughing when his eyes went wide again. 

“Jesus woman,” He laughed. “Would you stop trying to get hurt!” He chided. 

“Oh so you can go of overseas and fight in a war, but I can’t do a little home decor without you threatening to put me in a bubble?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t mean you aren’t capable of doing it yourself darlin, it’s just if I remember right you tend to be accident prone.” He chuckled. 

“That was 7 years ago! I was 17, I was a little clumsy. That’s all.” I defended. 

“Sure,” He smiled. “You ready to go eat?” He asked. I nodded. 

“Just let me grab some shoes!” I slipped on a pair of vans and we headed out the door. 

I was so glad we took the time to sit down and enjoy breakfast because the rest of our morning and early afternoon went by so fast. 

We had another staff meeting about greeting campers. And meeting parents. Dealing with home sickness. A crash course on first aid. The first day’s schedule. Luckily Sy and I were with the older kids. High school age. So our day’s weren’t quite as structured. But somehow that made me more nervous. What if they just brushed us off and none of our effort was even worth it. 

I didn’t have time to think about it. At 1 pm right after lunch and after we finished. Some staff bonding games of our own it was time for check in. It was kind of a long process if I remember so I still had maybe 20 minutes before any of my campers would be there but I was still so nervous. I went and sat out on the picnic table writing down the schedule and some of the games Logan and I had talked about trying one last time to get all my thoughts organized. At one point when I looked up I saw him across the lawn standing on the porch of his cabin finally taping the sign I’d made to his door. 

Better late than never I suppose. I giggled to myself. To be fair it’s a miracle the boys cabins ever participated in those sorts of things anyway. They never were ones to decorate. And their cabins always had a certain…smell to them. I shook my head and looked up again just in time to catch his eye across the lawn. I smiled sending him a little wave. I saw him grin and he waived back. Just as I thought about walking over to chat, a young girl and what i’m guessing is her mom stopped in front of the cabin. 

“Cabin E?” The mom asked smiling. I nodded. Standing up to greet them. 

“That’s me!” I smiled. “Welcome to camp!”

“Thank you!” She said. “This is Emma,” she gestured to her daughter. 

“I can introduce myself mom,” she chided her mother. “I’ve been doing this for 4 years now.” Ah so she was a seasoned camper. She should be fun. 

“It’s nice to meet you Emma, I’m Lainie, do you need help bringing anything inside? I asked gesutring to her bags. 

“Oh I can help her!” Her mom jumped in. Emma rolled her eyes. 

“Mom I love you, but you’re hovering. I got it from here.” She assured her. The womans face fell but she nodded. 

“Alright I get it, it’s time for me to go.” she said. I gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Hey Emma no one else is here yet why don’t you go choose your bunk and get settled in, I always liked to get here early too so I could get the bed I wanted.” I told her. 

The girls eyes lit up and she nodded. She quickly hugged her mom and grabbed her bags walking toward the door. 

“It’s just two weeks mom! I love you!” she said before she walked inside. Her mother smiled sadly and looked back to me. 

“She’s so independent, I don’t know when that happened. She grew so fast. I’ll only get to do this with her one more year.” Her mother explained. 

“She’s just excited, I remember these days. I was a camper myself not to long ago. But trust me, about half way through the first week. I would start to get a little home sick. We alway miss our mommas.” I told her. 

“Thank you,” She smiled. “Sounds like she’s in good hands with you Lainie. I’d better go check on my son My husband is dropping off her twin brother Ethan. And they can both be a handful.” I laughed. 

“I know the type,” I chuckled. She smiled before heading off in the direction of Sy’s cabin. When I looked over there was a boy, and an older man standing outside talking with him. Emma’s mother joined them. The boy had blonde hair just like the girls. Must be her brother I thought.   I didn’t have much time to watch as two more campers and their family’s arrived. One whos name was Nicole she was also a camp alumn been coming just as long as Emma. It didn’t look like they knew each other very well though. Must not have been in the same cabin before. Nicole was a spitfire. Right out the gate. She walked right in claiming her bunk signing her name on the wall next to it, another camp tradition. She dismissed her parents right away as well. They stopped and talked for a bit but they’d done this before they didn’t have many concerns. The other girl  was much more timid and shy. She reminded me of myself my first year of camp. She was about a year or 2 younger than the other girls. Her name was Ryleigh. She was quiet when she introduced herself. Her mother talked to me about concerns of her being social and making friends. She was worried about her. I understood that. But I also understood the way that this place had a tendency to open people up and make them feel safe. What I told her was. I’d keep an eye on her. She’s gonna have a fun summer. I promised that. Another hour had gone by and all of my campers had arrived. I had 8 girls in my Cabin. I welcomed them all and gave them each their sign to put up by their bunks. 

“These are so cool!” Nicole said excitedly quickly climbing up to her bunk and taping it up immediately. 

“I like these!” Emma said, “Is it okay if we add more drawings or sketches to them?” She asked. I nodded 

“Absolutely they’re yours to do whatever you want with!” I smiled. “But if everyone is all settled in I think the boys are ready to meet up with us. Are you ready to meet everyone?” They were pretty excited to get things kicked off by this point most of the girls had been to camp at least once. They were ready to get the summer started. 

Sy and I had decided that we would meet up on the lawn and just sit out on the grass as a group to start things off. When we walked over Nicole immediately ran over hugging one of the boys, must be old friends. They immediately sat next to each other in the grass as Sy and I told everyone to form a circle. 

“Alright,” Sy spoke loudly getting everyones attention. “First we’d like to introduce ourselves. The boys have met me but ladies, I’m Logan, a lot of people call me Sy. I’ll answer to either one.” He smiled. I looked over and a couple of the girls were whispering to each other. I knew that face. I’d been the one making it years ago. Probably even still now. They thought he was cute. It’s so innocent those camp counselor crushes. I’d been there too. Once when I was 13 we had this counselor his name was Tanner. He was really nice and he played guitar and he sang. I was a sucker guys that were into music. I just smiled to myself, and realised it was my turn to talk. 

“We’re so excited to have you all here, I’m excited to meet all of your boys as well Sy! I’m Alayna but for most of my life and especially around here, everyone has always called me Lainie. Sy and I are so happy to be back here, we were campers ourselves but it’s been 7 years since we’ve been to camp.” I said. I stifled a laughed watching a few of them try to do the math in their head to calculate how old we were. 

“My family and I have been coming to camp since my dad was a kid,” Sy added. “I’m sure there are things that have changed since we’ve been here but there are some traditions that never wil!” He smiled. “You guys ready to kick off this summer?” They all cheered excitedly. 

“Okay,” I spoke. “Some people love this and some people don’t but there are 16 of you, there’s no faster way for us to learn all of your names and you who you are than some icebreakers.” a few of them groaned. “I know, I know we’re gonna make this as painless as possible, we were campers too remember? We went back and tried to find the games we had the most fun doing. 

“Everyone know how to play 2 truths and a lie?” Logan asked. Most of them nodded but we still explained the rules as a refresher. “But after we all guess.” He added. “We want you to talk a little bit more about one of your truths to us. Or explain why you chose that lie.” That seemed to really pique their interest. Beckett one of the boys in Logans cabin started the game. 

“Alright,” he started. “I’m a lifeguard, One time when my friends and I were on a college campus tour we played a pick up game of football with some of the college players. Or as a senior prank we stole our math teachers car.” Everyone started laughing. This kid had charisma. I could already see some of the girls eyes getting all dreamy. He was funny too. Sy was going to enjoy having him as a camper. 

“Did you still graduate?” Emma laughed. “No way you did that and didn’t get caught!” she said. 

“I graduated,” He nodded smirking proudly. 

“What position did you play?” Sy asked, talking about football. 

“In school I was wide receiver.” He answered. A few of the others went around asking questions. And then we all made our guesses. We all for sure thought he was lying about the car. 

“We got to sit in the stadium and watch them practice.” he said about the football. “But we didn’t get to play. I’d love to play in college though!” He added. The boys started laughing and the some of the girls shook their heads. 

“No freaking way,” Nicole said “How’d you pull that off, How’d you steal the car?” He smiled proudly, this guy was going to be our camp clown for sure. 

“One of my buddies TA’d for him and he would ask him to get stuff for him out of his car sometimes. So we came up with the idea that when he asked we would meet down there and move it to the student parking lot. He was a super chill guy. He thought it was funny! After he found his car anyway!” We all laughed. The game continued on. They all had a lot of fun with it. Some of them coming up with really strategic lies. Or just basic stuff they wanted us to know about them. It turned out great. It was Ryleigh’s turn last. I could see she was nervous she’d been avoiding going the whole time. 

“Uh, I’m Ryleigh,” She spoke softly. “I’m in band, uh I-I really like to read, and one time in middle school I won a rollerskating contest at our roller rink,” She was playing with her fingers looking at the ground. 

“What’s your favoirte book?” I asked her. She looked up for a second giving me a nervous smile. 

“Uhm Thousand Words by Jennefer Brown,” She said. I smiled 

“I’ve read that Its really good!” one of the girls said. I watched her face light up a little bit. 

“What instrument do you play?” Sy asked. 

“I play guitar.” She said. He nodded giving her a soft smile. One of the boys asked about the roller skating thing and a few other questions and we all guessed. 

“I don’t think you roller skate,” Ethan, Emma’s twin brother said. 

“I do!,” she smiled surprised she had fooled most of us. “I’m actually not in band. I do play guitar though! My dad taught me.” she said. 

“That’s so cool!” Beckett said. “Did you bring your guitar with you? You could totally play at campfire!” He said. She blushed and nodded slightly. 

“I did.” she said. 

“Sweet!” He smiled at her.  

Our afternoon was going really well. We talked to the kids about what things they wanted to make sure we did as a group this summer. What traditions were important to them. The boys were so excited to help Logan start planning for the prank war. At somepoint we were going to play flashlight hide and seek. That was always fun. We always set that up right after it started to get dark. They wanted to do a camp fire breakfast. We made them promise they were going to get up early to help us with it. But they were mainly just excited to hang out with their friends and do whatever we had planned. They were such a great bunch of kids. It always seemed like no matter the generation. We always reverted back to a state of innocence when we were at camp. Leaving technology behind and just being present. 

It was turning out to be a perfect first day. We had the kids make their name tags and  were playing a few more group games before dinner. But just as we were finishing up our last game it started to sprinkle. We gathered everyone up to head over to the dining hall and the sky let loose. It started to rain steadily. We all ran over from the Cabin’s making it inside just before it started to down pour. 

“Well,” Logan said from behind me making me jump, He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare ya darlin, but I bet they cancel the welcome campfire tonight, it’ll be way to wet now.” He said. I nodded. 

“That sucks. Some of the girls were looking forward to it. They had friends in other cabins they wanted to see. I had no idea it was supposed to rain.” I said. 

“Yeah, I was checking the weather on my way in yesterday. Could Possibly turn into a pretty rough thunderstorm.” He added. 

“Oh,” I said softly, biting my lip. I hated storms. Especially at camp. The cabins always felt so small and so thin. Like they wouldn’t hold. It was the one time I didn’t feel safe. But I played it off. “Guess we’ll be inside the rest of the evening then!”

During dinner they did infact announce that they were canceling the big welcome camp fire. It was for all the age groups at camp to welcome everyone all at once. And then each night each of the age groups had their own campfire. But we’d be doing neither of those things tonight. So much for the perfect first day. After dinner we decided to run over to the rec room. There was a pool table, and darts. Foosball, card games, board games, all of the inside entertainment we would could ever hope for. A few of the other cabin groups decided to head there too. So the campers had a lot of fun. Most of them reunited with old camp friends and made some new ones. Some of them sat down to play some pretty intense card games or board games. Some just chose to sit and talk. I was feeling really good about our first day. But then I saw Ryleigh sitting by herself. My heart broke for her. I understood how having anxiety could make these situations so difficult. I was just about to go talk with her when Sy approached. 

“She’s a real sweet girl,” He said. 

“You noticed too, huh?” I asked. He nodded. 

“Yeah, hate to mention it but, kinda reminds me of you, in our days here.” He said. 

“I was just thinking the same thing. I was gonna go talk to her, see if there’s anything I can do to help.” I sighed. 

“Not yet, give it a minute.” He spoke. I raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?” I questioned. 

“Just trust me, give it a minute.” He smirked crossing his arms. I stared at him confused for a moment. What did he know that I didn’t. But it very quickly made sense. 

“No you guys go ahead and start the next round I’ll be back,” I heard one of the boys say from the table where the campers had a big Uno game going. It was Beckett I watched as he stood from the table and nervously ran his hand through his messy hair. But then his demenor switched as he put on a charming smile and a confident mask. He walked over to where Ryleigh was sitting on a beanbag in the corner doodling on a piece of paper. He plopped down next to her. 

“Whatcha doin?” He asked her. She jumped startled not expecting anyone to be there. 

“Just, sketching…” she answered.

“You draw?” He asked. She shook her head. 

“Not really but…” I stopped listening. Letting them have their own conversation. I wouldn’t want someone to eavesdrop on a moment like this if I were her. 

“How did you…?” I trailed off. Sy chuckled. His shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“He noticed her a while ago. I’ve been watching him try to work up the nerve to go over there for the last 10 minutes.” he laughed. I smiled. 

“Wait, so you think he likes her?” I asked.

“Oh, he definitely likes her. If the military taught me one thing. It’s how to be observant. He’s had his eye on her since we all met up this afternoon.” he smirked. 

“That’s so cute,” I smiled

“I was the same way with you!” He admitted. I almost choked on air.

“I never noticed that,” I said. He shook his head smiling.

“Yeah, cause you were so quiet and stuck in your own head to realize what was going on. You didn’t even realized you liked me back until the second year we were at camp together.”  He laughed. 

“You did NOT like me first!” I argued. 

“Did too, Just because you didn’t notice doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” He smirked. I opened my mouth to argue but there was a loud crack of thunder making me jump. I swallowed hard and looked down at the floor trying to hide the panic in my eyes. 

“Still don’t like storms huh?” He questioned. I bit my lip looking up at him and shook my head. 

“Hate them,” I said. Another roll of thunder and I felt myself tense. Sy put his hands on my shoulders making me look up at him. 

“It’s arlight we’re safe inside.” he assured me. I nodded. He and I walked over and sat with a few of the other counselors talking for a bit and keeping an eye on our campers. About 20 minutes later the weather alert went off on the radio in the rec room. We were under a severe thunderstorm warning. We could hear the rain pounding against the roof. My heart pounded in my chest. And the thunder was getting closer. Louder. 5 minutes later. The power went out. 

Sy immediately jumped up to take control of the room. 

“Everybody stay calm,” He spoke softly. I heard a zipper and some rustling. He’d pulled out a large flashlight from his bag. One of the counselors walkie talkies went off. Sy lifted his to his ear to listen. 

“Okay guys, just relax we’re gonna stay here until the storm lets up. Hopefully the power comes back on. Until then weve got some lantern flashlights to set up around the room. Just keep hanging out we’re alright.” He assured them. Sy and one of the other boys counselrs went into a supply closet finding the LED lantern lights they had 5 of them and set them out throughout the room illuminating it just enough for the kids to see and still be able to play cards or board games or talk. Some of the girls were a little nervous so I put on my best brave face to go over and talk to them. 

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Emma asked. I nodded. 

“We’re shielded from the storm and there aren’t many windows in here. We’re perfectly safe.” 

“I hate this.” another girl said. 

“I know, it’s not fun but it’ll,” another loud crack of thunder and I jumped. My breathing shaky, “It’ll.. It will uhm…” I started but I couldn’t get the sentence out the panic starting to take over. 

The girls both had nervous looks on their face. I was worrying them. Shit. I suck at this. 

“It’ll pass soon and we’ll head back to the cabins for the night.” I heard Sy say behind me. His hand softly pressed to my lower back. “Don’t worry we’ll get out of here and right back to all the fun stuff tomorrow.” he gave them a reassuring smile. 

They nodded. And I felt Logan gently leading me away. There was a small hallway that was out of the way and he pulled me to the side. “You alright?” He asked. I shook my head starting to feel myself shaking. 

“I-I can’t I can’t do this. I, how am I supposed to help them when I’m too scared myself and, I just I hate this.I feel like I can’t breathe!” I sniffed. He pulled me into him wrapping his arms around me gently shushing me. 

“Shhh it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay.” He said, holding me to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He soothed. 

“I’m sorry.” I breathed. 

“Don’t, it’s alright.” he whispered. “Just keep breathing for me,” He talked me through it. And when I calmed down we walked back out sitting on one of the couches again. I stayed quiet a moment watching the room. 

“Sy,” I spoke finally. Just as I went to thank him his radio was going off again. We were cleared to head back to the cabins. The heavy part of the storm had passed but it was still raining. We ran back and Sy and I parted on the lawn getting our campers settled. He got the boys back to his cabin and they settled in. He made sure they all made it back 

“Alright boys I’ll be right back I’m gonna go check on the girls make sure they all made it!” he told them. He ran over across the lawn and knocked on our door. I answered quickly and let out a deep breath when I saw it was him. 

“You girls alright?” he asked. 

“Yeah!” some of them answered. I smiled 

“We’re okay.” I said softly. He smiled and nodded for me to join him out on the porch. I turned back to the girls “I’ll be right back ladies, go ahead and get ready for bed, lights out is in 30 minutes!” I told them. I closed the door behind me. And let the sceen door slam shut. 

“Are you okay?” He asked after a beat of silence. 

“Yeah, I am,...Thank you for helping me back there,” I said. 

“This isn’t our first storm together honey,” He smiled. “I’ll always be there to help ya.” I blushed. 

“You’ve always been such a gentleman. You’re mama raised you right.” I smiled. 

“Nah, just with you, comes naturally,” He said. I felt my cheeks heat up even more and I looked away trying to compose myself. 

“So, was that…all?” I asked. He stepped closer to me until I was leaning against the picnic table. 

“No,” He smiled. “There’s one other thing.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek his eyes staring down into mine. I couldn’t take it anymore. We’d drawn this out for too long. 7 years too long. I wrapped one arm around his neck the other hand gently resting on the back of his head pulling him down to me. He responded immediately pressing his lips to mine. His other hand found my waist pulling me close holding me against him. All of the air left my lungs as I kissed him back with everything I had. I whimpered softly when he pulled away. 

“Shit, “ He smiled breathless. “Only took me 7 years but I uh..” He breathed “just wanted to kiss you goodnight.”  I nodded still cathing my breath smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. 

“One more for good measure?” I asked blushing. He smirked. And pulled me in again kissing me softer this time. It was slow and sensual. He leaned his forehead against mine when he pulled away. 

“A man could get addicted to that,” he said. I smiled slowly trailing my hand from his should and down his chest. 

“I wouldn’t mind.” I laughed. He chuckled and pecked my lips one more time. 

“Goodnight Darlin’” 

“Goodnight, Sy” I watched him run through the rain back to his cabin and I stood their for a moment regaining my composure before I went back inside. Just as I was about to open  the door. I heard the one of the girls say

“No, I’m serious you guys I think they’re married!” it sounded like Nicole

“Nikki, Neither one of them is wearing a ring!” Emma said. 

“Okay well dating at least, They’re like super in love! You should’ve seen them in the rec room! I had to pee and they were in the hall by the bathrooms. He was like holding her it was so cute!” 

“Aww that’s so sweet, she was definitely scared! I felt so bad!” One of the other girls, Chloe added. 

“I know, OH MY GOD! Do you think they’ll let us call them Mom and Dad? Remember last year when we had Carrie and Andrew and they were married? That was so cute they literally treated us like their kids!” nicole squealed. 

“I hope so!” Emma said “I really like them! They’re both so nice, and I really hope they’re dating if they’re not they need to be, because they’d be so cute together!” I chuckled to myself before opening the door and they’re attention turned to me but they went quiet. 

“Okay girls gossip time is over! Time for lights out!” I said. They groaned. 

“Okay but wait, are you and Logan Married?” Nicole asked. 

“Nicole do you see a ring? What did I just say? But you two are dating right?!” Emma added. I chuckled to myself and shook my head. 

“Goodnight girls.” 

“Ugh fine be like that girl,” Nicole pouted. 

“Goodnight Lainie!” Emma called. 

“Goodnight,” Ryleigh said softly. The rest of the girls settled in and I turned out the lights and climbed into my bunk. I bit my lip and smiled to myself holding in an excited. Squeal. Maybe this was still the perfect first day after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@summersong69

@carrie80reads

@identity2212

@caramariehurst

@redheadrouge

@warriormirkwood

@gummydummy19

@deandoesthingstome

@shellyshellshell

@mary-ann84

@starfirewildheart

@foxyjwls007

@thearcana-moonlight

@chloeforde

@pono-pura-vida

@secretdream2

@wtfdudesblog

@evie-119

@juliaorpll78

@corrie1013

@toooldforobsessions

@nothingbettertosay81

[bylrlve]

Warning! Spoilers for Stranger Things Season 5!

1.) (El talking) ‘what if you prefer us more as/than friends’ (note: each denotes a very different mindset in el than the other)

2.) (El talks) well, if we win/live, we can have a happily ever after

3.) (El talks) No. You should have (I am 99% certain of this considering what I can reasonably say I know about the hospital)

4.) (you should have been there?) but so much has happened, if it’s too much, you know…

5.) if it’s too much, you know… Will was with me…. you’re all friends to me

6.) so it’s okay, yes!

7.) El says something beginning with ‘but what if’)

8.) Of of course, you can X with me, whatever you’d like! - El seems to laugh at this. Perhaps Mike exaggerates her original words?

9.) but I mean…whatever happens… shrug

Notes:

I was running these for comparison against a partial m*leven transcript I’ve seen on twitter. The only plausible line,as far as I can see, is their reading of the first one as “but what if something happens to the both of us?” They read the next line as “… whatever happens, happens” and I can kind of see it but overall I think his mouth is too busy. They posited he was proposing running away or leaving Hawkins after everything ends and framed it around that, but I don’t agree with the choices they made - eg “I will come with you” instead of what I see: “of course you can still…with me”

The ‘Will’ part is obviously the part I’m least sure of. I’m really just conjecturing based on leaks. The best I can say is that I’ve checked it against clips of Mike saying Will’s name and it looks roughly the same but not conclusive. I am quite sure of ‘you’re all friends to me’.

I used @byler-endgayme’s excellent AI enhanced video here and put it into gifrun to make these gifs. It’s important to note that, between takes, Millie was wiping her eyes and nose. She was on a roof in January so she could have just been tearing up (and her nose running) from the cold. Finn doesn’t seem affected in the video here (from @cloudycleric) but women do have lower basal body temperatures than men. However, she could also have been tearing up in-character as Millie, suggesting it’s an emotional and heavy/cathartic scene. It’s also very important to note that this video is catching them in the middle of the conversation, and that there’s undoubtedly crucial stuff at the start that we’re not privy to.

It’s also worth noting that m*leven have had problems in episode 2s since season 2 - El reaching out to touch Mike and him walking away from the call, their breakup, and their disastrous roller rink date. Atlanta-filming insinuates in a comment that this occurs after the hospital plot in episode 2, and I will be discussing all of that in a big post out later today - and I have discussed it here already. The TLDR is that Mike is injured at the hospital and Will shows up distraught, but El is nowhere to be found - hence, why I’m reasonably confident that what he says is “no, you should have, you should have been there…”

[kanmom51]

Jikook - what we see is what we get

When we get to see it.

Not seeing it doesn't mean it's not there though.

Was sitting today BTS songs just playing in the background while I'm working on my post. All this shit just happening around us, around JK and JM (yes, JM is part of it, he's also affected by it all), and The truth untold comes up.

This version:

One of, if not their best performance imo. The emotion just pouring out of them.

This song. It kills me every single time. Brings me to tears every single time. JM turned away from JK singing "and I still want you" in every performance. Well, other than their last 3 in Seoul, changed by them, performed by them, ending facing each other JM singing "but I still want you". Defiant.

All about the need to wear that mask to hide your true self for fear you might not be loved for who you truly are, that you might be seen as ugly, a monster. And the two of them, changing the staging, turning to each other, looking into each other's eyes, while changing the "and" to "but I still want you"... do people understand this? The enormity of this moment?

And then this song comes up, this performance:

This was on day 2, while on day 3 we had this:

Omg, my YT logarithm is trying to kill me today.

And got me thinking about this moment we got on day 3 as well.

This love, people, this chemistry, us not seeing it as often for the lack of BTS ot7 content doesn't mean is gone. It's very much still there. We just aren't as lucky to be able to see them in that one frame as often or even at all. But when we do, there is no denying it. Even if it's for the shortest of moments.

We saw it in 2020 (have people forgot memories 2020 for god sake?)

We saw it in 2021

So much more, so little image allowance... But you can find it all in my masterlist.

We saw it throughout 2022 in their Seoul and LV PTD concerts.

And in JITB even if briefly,

And in Busan and Run BTS episodes.

And we even got a little touch of it in 2023, when there was no way of keeping them out of the frame, like in Jhope's enlistment BTB, D-Day in Seoul and even when not being in one frame, in those lives we got to enjoy when the one joined the other in their comments and even without the other even making that kind of appearance.

Letter, goddamnit.

Oh and then we had JM literally flying across the world to be with JK for his Solo debut (if only GMA concert wasn't cancelled, damn it), and them dipping off for their 4 day private trip in CT.

It's sad how short people's memories are. Really. I am reading all sorts of fanfictions being put forward as "this is what happened with Jikook over the years", stating facts that are not facts, creating non existent drama, because people love the drama.

This is a loving couple in a long term relationship. You know, that boring kind. The stable, loving, filled with respect and no drama. The one where one supports their partner when they are struggling. One where just being with each other is fulfilling (cough JK coming to JM's room in LA just to be with him in the same room for hours cough).

Funny how people are talking about them breaking up 2020-21 during the pandemic when JK literally had a slip of the tongue spilling the beans they live together, they are one household, in Run BTS episode 142 they were each gifted a knife. JK all proud and piping up "we got 2"...

JM just sitting there all quiet, smirk on his face.

Stories about breakups. Stories about sexually experimenting but no actual emotional commitment. All while ignoring the constants. Those things that are just there, all the time, whenever we do get to see them:

That electrical chemistry between those two.

The way they look at each other constant over the years.

The way they talk to each other constant over the years.

The way they touch each other constant over the years.

The way they talk about each other.

The way their interactions are so different from the others or their own with the others.

The way the others are around them, their reaction to Jikook.

All still there!!!

*PS:

I wrote this post yesterday before JK's Radiohead appearance and his TikTok post-delete.

I guess now would be a good time to repeat what the wise @ourwinterspring (yes, I'm mentioning you again, lol) once said (well a couple of days ago, that is):

Rumors are created by haters

accepted by fools

and spread by idiots

[starzshopoflove]

Civil Duties (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

needed a title i think

Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry i'm terrified of men irl, no smut guys simon doesnt fuck on the first date erm,,

You were probably gonna throw up out of pure anxiety texting him, not like you were scared but this wasn't some guy from school or a random guy who hit on you, this man was an actual man, like he's probably had real relationships and has his own health insurance (both false ahem). Of course you eventually bite the bullet and text him, exchanging basic information; your name, how old you were, what your hobbies are. 

After 2-3 days of consistent messaging mostly on your end with Simon preferring an actual phone call letting you do most of the talking assuring you he doesnt think your rambling and is in fact listening, he finally asks you out for a proper date because his mother raised a gentleman that doesn't call it grabbing coffee then tells you its a date.

I feel like simon would try and clean up a little bit for a first date, you're not some barrack bunny he fucks with a mask on and never sees again!! So he’ll get his hair trimmed, shave his stubble, wear his nicer slacks instead of his usual worn jeans and iron his shirt before seeing you. Checking to make sure he didn't look dirty or smell so you wouldn't make that face from what he was hoping wasnt from him.

He’ll call you from outside the bookshop were your family flat was above and let you know he's here while you basically stomp around upstairs running to do the final touches on your makeup, making sure the dress you decided to wear wasn't too short and your hair wasn't standing on ends while you held the phone between your ear and shoulder hopping on one foot trying to get your shoe while you told him you’d be right down. 

Simon, who checks his watch ( yes he has a watch this man is OLD) while waiting for you only turning his head when he hears your quick steps making way down the staircase in the back of the shop and patterning of your shoes across the store floor where you make your somewhat grand entrance out of the shop. He just kind watches you grip the door frame and place a hand on your knee to catch your breath because he doesn't know you basically just did 2 hours worth of hair, nails and makeup in 45 mins and still pulled it off.

“You look nice” was all he could choke out because he can't simply throw you over his shoulder and take you home and let you be his little live in girlfriend (dw give him time it'll happen) 

You straighten yourself swallowing silently to yourself basically eating him alive with your eyes praying he can't tell (he can't hes busy thinking about how your gonna be late for lunch and doesn't want the good tables to get taken) letting your lips pull that stupid smile you have when your reading the softest part of a book where the mc finally gets what she needs. 

“Really?” Of course when you said that it had to come with a little giggle that tickled his ears because that kind sound doesn’t come to often especially when he can see your face burning just a little and your fighting the fattest grin 

“Absolutely” 

Simon seems like the kinda guy to take you somewhere family run for lunch, quiet but the best damn food you’ll ever eat. Course you chat and you nudge him some of your fries where he placing some of the meat from his plate onto your (THAT'S NOT THE MEAT WE WANT) and you share a little “oh thats good” over your conversation that ends with you both deciding to go on a walk around the square 

You’re just fucking eating up everything the whole time, actually hearing him talk more with that sweet deep mank accent while you explain the plot to some mystery book the shop stocked recently after he mentioned he liked the author, or when he picked his glass up for a drink and his arm flexed a little, oh my god you wanted to climb this man like a tree and pick his brain apart. 

Obviously Simons is a very attractive man but you like your men with some sorta substance, and he has plenty. The way he actually listened to you and had questions on whatever you were saying, not making you feel like you were suffocating him because he happily listened to your blabbering about the latest new installment in a series you've been keeping up with or when you had to explain the concept of reddit to him to explain a story. It was nice, like he didn't mind you had so much in your head and was happy to let you spill it out

You’re like a breath of fresh air for Simon, most of his time off a mission is spent reading anything in a park or at the gym just trying to make the time pass quicker till his next mission, he didn't know what made him give you his number but seeing you twice in one day didn't feel like something he could ignore. Your hands were as soft as they looked, and you didn't smell like smoke or gunpowder, you didn't care that he wasn't super talkative because that look in your eye told him you know he was listening, he especially liked how you didn’t push when he said he just did “contracting” for work 

When the date ended with you both walking back to the shop and you both stood in front of the big glass door quiet and awkward while you shifted from one foot to another not yet ready to leave. At Least not without a kiss, least you could do to say thank you for letting talk your ear off.

“Simon”

“Yeah?” 

“Somethin on your cheek c’mere”

There's was literally nothing on his cheek but he still leaned down to you indulging whatever you had in mind, when you hooked a finger on the collar of his shirt tugging his face much closer 

“Still cant see it?” He gruffed out letting your eyes meet his while his hands made fists in his jacket pockets trying not to just jump out and hold you by the cheeks 

“Def can now ‘ts right here” 

You tugged the shirt a little closer, slotting your lips onto a small hum leaving you when his tongue licked your bottom lip with you happily obliging parting just enough for your tongues to slide over each other, before pulling away. 

“Did ya get it?” hes got a stupid grin now too not as wide and bright as your but its there 

“Mhm” 

You did you it *confetti*

[apocalypseornaw]

A Memory or Me (Pt 2/3)

Sam Winchester x Reader

You overhear a conversation between Sam and Dean that hurts

You loved so many things about Sam. His heart, the way he cared so deeply. His brain, the fact that he could retain information about lore he'd read years before. His smile, the way it warmed you just seeing it. You loved the way he held you, his larger frame making you feel tiny. You loved the way he kissed you, the way that no matter how long the two of you had been together he always checked on your comfort level every time he slid into you, touched you, pushed you over that edge time and again.

You hadn't told him you loved him yet. For one you didn't want to push him. You were his first relationship after Jess, yeah he'd had a couple hookups but you were the first to stick around. 

Maybe you'd hoped he would say it first, but he never did. The longer you were together the more you wondered if he would ever say it. 

Bobby's house was the closest thing to home any of you had ever had, perks of your life. You were in the kitchen, making tea and checking on the cookies Bobby had talked you into making while you were in town.

Dean was outside changing the oil in the impala and in your car as well. Sam was with him so you had music playing and a couple lore books on the table. Things had been going good with you and Sam, even hunting practically full time with the boys was going well enough.

____________

You'd just sat down at the table when you heard Bobby call your name. You walked into the living room where he was sitting at his desk “You rang?” 

He shook his head but you could see the smile playing at his lips “Go take those knuckleheads some water if you will. It's eighty today and they grabbed a beer each before going out” You nodded then headed back to the kitchen. The timer for the cookies had just chirped so you pulled them out and sat them on top of the stove to cool before grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge.

_____________

You knew your way around the junkyard well enough. Dean would hopefully have the cars under the shelter in the back that was also used as a painting booth for times like when the impala was totaled around John's death. 

You could hear music blasting and laughed when Dean's voice mingled with the radio on “You shook me all night long”

“Winchesters!” You hollered as you got closer and Sam was the first one to pop his head out, a smirk on his face “So I'm back down to just being one of the Winchester?” You shrugged “Well I mean I did wake up alone this morning. Could make a girl feel some type of way”

He raised an eyebrow when you walked beside him into the paint booth and held a bottle of water out to Dean “Like it or not Bobby didn't want you two dehydrating out here and when he says to drink water over alcohol you know it's bad” Dean took the water with a wink “Any other person I'd say but I mean at least the water delivery girl is cute” 

You rolled your eyes and felt Sam's arms slip around your waist “Easy Dean. She's taken” you laughed and passed a bottle of water into Sam's hand “You two are adorable really but I gotta finish helping Bobby with some chores inside while I'm here” Sam leaned down and gripped your chin with one of his hands to turn your head and give him access to your lips. 

The kiss was gentle and you smiled against his lips “Well talk about adorably nauseating” Dean teased so you pulled away from Sam to glare at him “Bite me Dean” “Ain't that Sammy's job?” He replied with a grin. You felt your face warm but shook your head “With that I'm going inside”

________________

A while later Bobby sent you out to retrieve the boys because he needed them to make a run into town. You were walking up to the open side door of the paint booth when you heard Dean say “So you and Y/N are coming up on a year and I don't know if I missed it but have you told her you love her man?”

You froze on the spot. You shouldn't be hearing this, it was a violation of not only Sam's privacy but the privacy between brothers as well. Yet you remained rooted on the spot “I haven't” Sam's voice came and you felt your stomach drop. Would you hear him say he loved you or admit he didn't?

“Why not?” Dean pushed and you could practically see his stance, arms crossed over his chest and green eyes boring into his younger brother. You heard Sam exhale and his stance hit your mind too, probably leaned against a wall staring at anything but Dean. “I don't know it's just, she's so different than Jess”

“And that's a bad thing?” Dean asked and you felt a sense of gratitude for him defending you even to Sam. “I'm not saying it's a bad thing but I had this idea of love, my future. With Jess it was getting married after college, a house and kids. Y/N is a hunter through and through, she's comfortable covered in blood and fighting anything that crawls its way out of hell. Jess was soft and gentle and easy going. Y/N is a hurricane, she'll knock you off your feet without even trying”

You felt tears burn your eyes, your mother's voice from years ago hitting your ears. Telling you that you held too much weight in your thighs and stomach, that you were too loud, too weird. That no one would ever love you. The woman had been dead for over a decade and still tormented you. “So you're saying you haven't told Y/N you love her because she's not a little housewife material?” Dean asked and from the edge in his voice you knew you were reading the situation right. Sam didn't love you because you weren't Jess. 

“I don't know” Sam admitted and you turned to walk away but remembered Bobby needed them.

_____________

You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes before schooling your face. You could lie to cops daily,you could make them believe you hadn't heard anything.

You made sure your footsteps were loud and started humming your favorite song under your breath before opening the door. Both men turned to look at you and sure enough, Dean stood next to baby with his arms crossed looking every inch the disappointed dad while Sam was leaning against the wall looking like the teenager who'd been expelled.

You raised your eyebrows “You two good?” Dean nodded slowly then turned his eyes to you “Yeah sweetheart we're good. You need something?” You nodded “Bobby needs a supply run” “We'll be there in a minute” you smiled slightly “Ok”

You tried not to let Sam's words get to you. After all God rest the dead, Jess was gone. You were alive. If he couldn't appreciate what was in front of him that wasn't your shortcoming was it?

Still you found yourself not being quite yourself. You wouldn't sing along with the radio, if you got bloody on a hunt you'd always go straight to the shower and not even let Dean check your injuries first. You tried to be less of a hurricane but knew that was just who you were. You'd always be too much.

@lacilou @fullbelieverheart @prettydeaneyes

[teopatra]

✨ pick a number reading✨

Hola, me llamo es T’Asia I go by Teopatra. Grand water trine babe, lifepath 8 & Scorpio stellium. I’m a Leo sun and was sick for my bday so I wasn’t able to embody the Leo energy for my season sooooo, here I am now on the first day of Virgo season exercising my creative muscle lol

How do others feel about you?

(Can be platonic or romantic) feel free to pick more than one message

Enjoy xoxo 💋 teo ✨

Group # 1 :

you make people nervous or you get nervous when you realize someone is staring at you or has a crush on you and when you get nervous, it turns people on LOL people love to see you sweat because everyone looks at your reactions to things to compare how they feel, but you’re pretty attractive to a lot of people & may not even realize it some people wish they could cuddle/sleep next to you literally not in an intimate type of way just a romantic type of way or people could want to know what you look like when you sleep lol you give Angel baby vibes.

Pay attention to angel numbers 123 12:34 and 1:23, 😵‍💫 emoji or 📲 emojis

If you’re going thru your Saturn return , take note of your half birthday, also go back in your camera roll 6 months or to any November if any year and check your notes from 2020.

Signs: Pisces, cancer, libra, Capricorn or you know someone from that sign or nah dislike these signs

Group # 3 :

you have a warm nature and a nice looking physique I’m getting you don’t have the typical body whatever that means like you’re not a BBL IG figure you have a frame that makes people want to hug you or be near you because your energy is comforting. Someone or there’s a few people who have crushes on you and a small group of people may talk about how you look good and they be may be super nice to you and you kind of find it weird then it dawned on you 😂 that they like you people always want to touch your hands or share a pencil is what 😆.

Pay attention to angel numbers 333 and 5:55, 6:56 and 1:27 or that could be your bday

Lifepath 8s, the 🐸 emoji or lots of butterflies

Aries , gemini, Taurus or lifepath 7’s check camera roll from January or February, Aquarius season is significant

Group # 8 :

Other, see you as they’re saving grace like just when I feel like giving up, you save the day and you make them realize there’s more to life than was keeping them down people want to know how to be confident like you and I want to learn from you, but they feel stupid for asking for help. You may be expressed expressive are open with your emotions. Why people may know you to cry and random situation even though you’re not sad and that makes them laugh or smile because you’re just so silly and funny and cute.

Emojis 🐄, ❤️‍🩹, and 📿🩸. Your school colors can be red or that’s your favorite color.

Lifepath 2 and 7. Signs can be Aquarius, Taurus, libra, Leo, Scorpio or Sagittarius or check where these are in your chart for more messages

Check camera roll for April, angel numbers 11:11 or double numbers and reflective numbers like 12:21, 22:10, 22:11, 21:12 or 636 / 636 can be your area code iykyk lol

[littlemoonastrology]

LittleMoon Astrology Masterlist!

READINGS and REVIEWS

(OPEN) Paid Astrology Readings:

These are just your basic readings! You can use these to get an underlying idea of you, someone you know or your dynamic with another person.

The Love and Career Readings utilise Derivative Astrology techniques to understand a specific area in your chart!

In order to receive a Paid Astrology Reading, check out my Ko-Fi! All you need to do is pay for a reading then fill out the form associated.

⭐ Big 3 Readings (roughly takes 7 days to arrive) £10

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(CLOSED) Free Astrology Readings:

For these readings I use Techniques from Derivative Astrology in order to look into depth at an area in your life. These WOULD be paid as they take work - but this is just for practice. Make sure you get one while they're free!

In order to receive a Free Astrology Reading, contact me here!

🌙 Education Readings (What kind of course should I do? &lt; example)

🌙 Pet Readings (What kind of pet would suit my lifestyle? &lt; example)

🌙 Hobbies and Interests (What hobby should I start? &lt; example)

🌙 Anything not listed in I do not accept

I do not accept:

🌙 Health Readings

🌙 Pregnancy Readings

🌙 Death Readings

🌙 Time Specific Readings (What age will I ... &lt; example)

🌙 Location Based Readings (What country should I move to? &lt; example)

🌙 Spirituality Readings (Who is my Twin Flame? What is my Starseed Origin? How do spirits communicate to me? &lt; example)

If I haven't listed the kind of Reading you'd like, message me and I'll see what I can do!

The Free Readings I do accept also have limitations - if I don't want to do one (such as if I think it's in bad intent, will have a negative impact etc) I won't do it. Ask me anyway if you're unsure!

Depending on the type of reading (and how many I need to do), certain ones may take longer than others. For an expected time-frame on when your reading will be finished, contact me!

To leave a review for Paid Readings you can comment on my Ko-Fi or message me directly.

To leave a review for Free Readings you can message me with your feedback!

If you feel comfortable with me posting your review, put this emoji somewhere in your feedback: ✨.

Thank you!

Reviews

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

~

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS / RAMBLES / TOP TIPS

1st and 7th House - "The 1st and 7th House in Astrology I found can give an idea of where you and your long-term partner like to touch each other!"

12th House - "The 12th House shows us what we project to the outside world as a mirror to our inside... It shows if we are being authentic to who we truly are."

Moon in the Houses - "The Moon can also tell us what aspect of our life we need to nurture, watch over and protect in order to grow and how. When we direct this energy in the right area, it becomes easier to express and allows us to feel more fulfilled in life."

Nature of Saturn and Top Tips for Saturn in Cancer - "This Planet only wants to see you develop, improve and achieve your goals in life... and some people think it's a cruel or aggressive planet."

~

ASTEROIDS

All About : Juno ⚵

~

PLANETS

Brief Explanations on What the Planets Symbolise in Astrology

~

THE ZODIAC SIGNS

This contains my:

All About The Zodiac Signs Series

This series covers all the basic information for you to understand the 12 Zodiac Signs. It lists: Associated Degrees, Associated Houses, Planetary Rules and so on. Each post also includes 4 paragraphs each about the Zodiac Signs.

Aries

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Leo

Virgo

Libra

Scorpio

Sagittarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

Zodiac Sign Dynamics Series

This series covers basic information about the dynamics between each Zodiac Pairing. Each of these are sorted into categories (based on the dynamic) and have their own post as well.

~~~~~ Sister Signs ~~~~~

Aries and Libra

Taurus and Scorpio (not posted yet)

~

Aspects and Aspect Patterns

Sextiles

[sonkitty]

The Sideburns Scheme Post #40

(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)

Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 3, I Know Where I'm Going, gravity

...

Sideburns Check

The sideburns are long. I would even go so far as to say they can go in the longest-length category. That's typical for being in Gabriel's presence without humans around.

Gabriel is the supernatural presence that affects the sideburns in such a way for most of the story.

...

Brighter Red Streak Check

The streak can be found. It might even expand a bit when Crowley is talking about his Operation Lovebirds plan by the window. Still, the streak is usually visible when Crowley's around Gabriel, just like the sideburns are usually long when Crowley's around Gabriel.

...

Hairstyle Changes

The hair is more wavy on the right side of Crowley's head. The hair near his part and above his left eye indents in a little further to Crowley's right. It curves slightly upward in its overall tilt to the right.

...

Earthly Objects

(For reference: Earthly Objects | Earthly Objects Study - Windows Part 1)

Gabriel is repeatedly dropping a book. Touches probably count for when he picks the book back up. Crowley is touching a stack of books has walks down the stairs.

Gabriel places his hands on his hips briefly while Crowley is talking to him. He has a question with, "Why?"

Crowley probably gets points for touches on the rugs.

Crowley and Gabriel share a complex window scene looking at Nina. With the window look touch active, they both do self-touches.

My latest guess, which I reached while drafting this post, is that there are two sets this pair do. Because they were looking at the fly together, they are in a context to allow a shared window look.

Crowley starts the first set with the name, "Operation Lovebirds." That's point #1.

Both he and Gabriel are not physically touching any earthly objects as they start their shared window look. That's the lookers looking as Step 1.

The camera shows Nina and part of the window frame visible. That's the window seeing as Step 2.

The camera cuts back to the pair behind the window. That's the lookers being seen clearly behind the window pane with at least some of its window frame visible, which is Step 3. They have earned their shared point as point #2 of this set.

Crowley earns them their third point with smacking his hands together while Gabriel maintains the look on the window. That's point #3.

During the previous set, Gabriel was implied to touch his coat. The camera confirms it as this next set starts. That's point #1.

Gabriel asks, "Vavoom?" That's a question to earn point #2.

Crowley has an implied pocket touch, but I think he's obscuring it enough to not earn a point. Instead, he earns the last point with a self-mouth-touch after saying, "That's the plan, yeah," and before saying, "I haven't done weather in ages."

He concludes the scene with ensuring that he is looking out the window. Instead of a physical object being physically touched, the window look is maintained so long as the characters occasionally look to show they are still using the window.

...

As a reminder, all of this window stuff is, at least in my experience, to help an audience player find and solve The Window Trick in Round 1 of the Threshold Tricks.

...

Time to pay attention to the pockets...

Crowley has manifested his clothes differently. He has no jacket and no vest. That means I'm off to examine the tie strands since they have no lapel edges to strike for retying or whatever other mischief they might do as the Tied Hands.

Okay, the first thing I notice is that a clasp hits an edge along the line of the outer shirt near the end of the scene.

That means I'll look for retying signs as well as whatever else they do.

With Crowley carrying the books, the tie strands are mostly covered at first. After he throws the books, the tie strands are not fully visible yet. His right hand is in front of them. The space between his thumb joints is what lines up with the lower part of the clasp furthest to Crowley's right and slightly higher than the hidden ones for the other tie strand below it. As Crowley's right hand lowers, that lower part hides briefly. The upper part of the left-most tie strand becomes visible and aligned with the right hand CMC thumb joint. Then the right hand covers the clasps.

Both arms are making pockets with his body.

Given what's going to happen, what I think the scene is trying to show is a confirmation that the tie strands are indeed Tied Hands, even with the different attire. Because of how this display happens, they're also going to have to be retied. The tie strand closer to Crowley's right eventually switches to be closer to Crowley's left. Then in Crowley's movement, it will match with movement of Crowley's left hand.

Crowley steps forward, and both his arms move while the tie strands swing. His legs end up making a pocket with the bottom of the screen. His watch's face still can't be seen, but it's exposed enough for its metallic shine to be found while the bookshop clock's face is also visible and to Crowley's right. Crowley's left thumb tip lines up to the edge of the tassel that is probably the one closest to Crowley's left. That's the one connected to the right hand at that moment.

Then the left thumb tip covers the other tassel for the tie strand closer to Crowley's right, which is the one it's theoretically tied to. Crowley keeps stepping forward, and the tie strands switch with his movement. The shorter tie strand ends up closer to his left side. When it swings slightly to Crowley's right, Crowley's left hand is in sync with its movement. His left arm is making a pocket with his torso. The tie has skin contact with both sides of Crowley's neck.

Then this display is done, and now it's time to start retying. The watch is known to be on Crowley but will not be seen again. However, the bookshop clock's face is on screen when Crowley and Gabriel watch the fly going up. Gabriel's index finger makes a point. As the pair make their way toward the window, the tie strands push off the shirt 3 times.

Crowley's pinky finger is extended when Crowley smacks his hands together as he says, "vavoom." The thumb is also extended. The index finger is blurred but has more lighting on it than the middle and ring fingers. The hands are crossed in the process.

Gabriel's right thumb CMC joint is touching his pocket when next to Crowley as Crowley implies his own pants pocket touch.

When Crowley says, "That's the plan, yeah," is when a clasp finally hits the shirt inner edge.

My guess then is that's the end of retying this time.

Well, playing this part was interesting. I'm going to have to think on it for awhile to see if it has value to other parts of the game and if it has more value than what I've found so far here. The main place I'll consider first is the Single in The Pocket Trick. I'm already so lost there as it is.

Now maybe I should go back and look at any other pockets or pocket-related things I missed with the whole studying the Tied Hands part.

The stair lamp is visible again, and it is found above and to the left of Crowley's ear at times. Well, since it's there, I'm going with guessing Crowley gets to reuse it as an Overhead Light. The logic isn't clear to me for why reusing is allowed, if that is the case.

Gabriel does something interesting where his right hand has his index finger and middle finger spread to make a "2" that is touching the desk. Meanwhile, his left index finger is touching the desk on the other side to make a "1". A Rule of Three is met with the fingertips touching the desk. He places his hands on his sweater and makes pockets with his arms. When stroking his left index finger to his cheek to ask, "Why?" there is a brief pocket between the finger and his shoulder. Later in the window part with Crowley, he places his hands on his coat and makes pockets with his arms.

Crowley ends up visually pocketed between Gabriel and the window during parts of the retying.

There are at least two humans using pockets for the part showing what the window sees.

The Belt Head is sometimes visible and a potential clue that the Overhead Light is active as an Overhead Light when Crowley and Gabriel are watching the fly. There are a few smaller lights, including one above the stair railing that can act as an Overhead Light for the Belt Head if necessary.

Crowley is wearing sleeve garters, but the only thing I could find that they might do is lighting assistance. They have more shine at parts where the arms and hands are moving to show that the tie strands are still Tied Hands.

...

For my tangential reading in my desperate attempt to improve my play, I finished The Sandman last Saturday. I don't think I'm in a ready mindset to go over my notes, but I do have some notes from when I finished and before returning the graphic novels to the library.

In my Discworld reading, I recently finished Reaper Man and just started on Witches Abroad.

...

Story Commentary

This scene shows Crowley in a more relaxed mood around Gabriel. Gabriel doesn't even ask, but Crowley offers the information on gravity. In the general hint that Crowley has been in a similar situation to Gabriel, it's like he knows that Gabriel is dropping the book to figure out gravity exists because he's done it.

He also admits to not remembering the logic of why gravity is what it is but was part of the team that worked on making it happen.

The conversation overall happens on friendly terms, and there's no acknowledgment from Crowley that there's a threat to be concerned with by having Gabriel in the bookshop. Instead, he's openly sharing his Operation Lovebirds plan with a willing listener.

The throwing of the books is unsettling. Crowley, no! I've admitted I'm not much of a reader, but I'm enough of a reader that seeing such a thing is more alarming than it is funny. Besides whatever absurdity he's doing with the Tied Hands, why?

I don't think there is a good, other reason, but I would love to be wrong about this one.

Crowley finally sees the fly but doesn't have much of a reaction to it. He comments, "Well observed," and moves onto the next part of the scene.

If one takes the time to look, Crowley's sunglasses can be found on the desk. He's opened himself up enough to leave them off while around Gabriel and no one else. Overall, he is acting more at home within the space while borrowing it from Aziraphale.

When Crowley and Gabriel make their way to the window, the cardboard box Gabriel arrived with can be seen in the background. Not only that, Crowley's plants are near that box so are also visible during this scene. They end up briefly pocketed between Gabriel and Crowley.

The scene leaves me with the impression that these two characters were friends before Crowley's fall and are friends again here, or at least on friendly terms, in at least this part of the story.

...

That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.

...

Main post:

The Sideburns Scheme

[siremasterlawrence]

The Hypnotist Circle - Gassing Glen

What happened to Glen? Well! You see it all started because my car was dirty driving on my way to the beach.I saw his place was open so just drove in to see him enjoying hosing himself down a bit too much.My God! He had a hard to a disturbing level as he saw me, he giggles putting it down and lifts up the pocket.

I shake my head as he gets to work soaping up my car soon every inch in crevice is all suds up and I am hir with a blast off water works. I exit the car to see it pristine clean so I aid him to clean the car and as he goes in with his vacuum my plan is unfurled.I watch him do his job from the back I enjoy his butt with the knowledge of would soon be all mine to fuck with as I please.

He notices my engine light is starting to act weird when he bumped in to so he offers it free of charge and pops the hood.A bellow of gas’s shoots outward on to his face covering it as he yawns, eyes close, hands falls to the side and he falls backwards in

to my arms.

“Glen Activate”

“Glen Activation Initiated “

“Stand up”

“Open your shirt “

“Grab a hose”

“You add the hottest guy ever”

“You want to keep your customers “

“Put on a show “

“Yeehaw! How about you soak me up bud”

Enthusiastically I take the opportunity with gusto charging at him with the bucket of soapy water. Nothing gave me more lust and pleasure than soaping him up head to toes as he smirks with gleeful joy and wild abandonment.

On my command he grabs the hose washing himself off with it as he smiles excitedly like a wicked as if he were a petulant little kid who so behaving so abhorrently but who could be mad at that face I certainly can’t in fact I refuse too.

Quickly he gets dressed as he semi comes to his senses of his life but not of what had happened for him. Nor does he care at all because a few minutes later he is back to cleaning my car again.

“Can you check the air conditioner?”

“Sure! What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the smell “

“Yeah! It’s horrific “

“I know right! It’s so hard to smell anything else.”

“You can’t but inhale it”

“It turns you on”

“Makes you hard”

“Yeah”

A few weeks later I saw him at a gym he goes to apparently completely in beast mode as it were demolishing every rep he could muster. I stood in amazement watching. I sign before I get a brilliant ideaIf I say so myself sneaking downstairs with no one eyes on me I manage to make it to the air vents.

Turning the distribution of air up I pour in a bigger amount of the gas as I watch its pump output increasing by second and place to nose plugs in to my nostrils as I wait for the magic. I waltz back upstairs to see him solely occupying room mindless on the machine with a sweet smile on his face unsuspecting of what is going on.

All my feeling of guilt evaporating from the moment I see his chiseled frame fill out his clothes and I even to fondle him with so much alertness and care. I strip him of clothes as I sit on his lap embracing him with a hug, inhaling his scent and finally kissing him.

Snapping my finger he comes to life once more finishing his set for me to watch in awe but also to do a victory lap in his bed later as a thank you. The place closes as we leave dog the night my words go soft to him inviting me in to his car as we drove off to his home.

He offers me a drink which I take feeling a deep connection to me he sits closer than before his eyes dart between mine and my cock. We kiss as electricity surges between us the whole world we be in awe at my good ole Hypno magic at work and no escape from it.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom”

“Yes Sir”

“1…2…3”

“No please !”

“SLEEP “

“Ugh!”

“I understand your apprehension “

“I am in control though”

“You can sit back”

“Take a back seat”

“Go to sleep”

“Your body is in a world of reckoning “

“Pleasure”

“Pain”

“Ecstasy “

“True beauty “

“Love every touch of my hand “

“The warmth of my body “

“Our connection “

“Your heart beats fast for me”

“Can you deny it?”

“Uuugggh”

“Well”

“No”

“Speak up next time”

“Here me out”

“Love me”

“Sweetheart “

“Fuck! I love you “

“My hand guides your cock”

“At my command cum and submit “

“CUM”

“FUCK”

“Yyyyeeesssss Mmmaaasssttteeerrrr”

The end

[jessybarnes]

JessyBarnes' Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: MY BLOG IS 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS! Please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate, adapt, or republish ANY of my work to other websites or platforms. I take great pride in my work, and I spend a lot of time creating them. The only websites I will be posting works on are Tumblr under the username jessybarnes and AO3 under the username j_snow_writes. I don't own any of the celebrities or characters that I write for. Please read all of the warnings on my works before proceeding.

NOTE: I check EVERY single blog that likes, reblogs, comments on my posts, and follows me. If your blog is BLANK I will be blocking and reporting as spam IMMEDIATELY. IF I CANNOT MESSAGE YOU BECAUSE YOU DON'T FOLLOW ME YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! IF IT ISN'T BLANK, BUT HAS NO AGE IN THE BIO, I will be sending you a message that will allow you UNTIL NOON EASTERN STANDARD TIME the following day to respond with your age. If you do not respond within that time frame, you'll be blocked with ZERO exceptions. My blog is 18+ ONLY and I intend to maintain that. This is for both you're safety and mine.

Heart Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Reblog Divider by: @cafekitsune

***Flash Warning Below The Cut***

Marvel Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Supernatural Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Harry Potter Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Lord of the Rings Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Metallica Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Real Person Fiction Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Miscellaneous Masterlist

Masterlist Link

Photoshops

Photoshop For Soft Touches and Nose Kisses

Destroyer!Sebastian x Defending Jacob!Chris

Evanstan - The Notebook Rewrite - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Photoshop For Dirty Little Secret

Challenges/Bingos

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

LGBTQ+ Bingo Masterlist

AFG Mixed Bingo Masterlist

AFG AU Bingo Masterlist

AFG Angst Bingo Masterlist

AFG Kink Bingo Masterlist

AFG Dark Bingo Masterlist

AFG Fluff Bingo Masterlist

Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterlist

Bingo Of Our Own Masterlist

Comfortember 2022 Masterlist

MF Bingo Masterlist

Bad Bitches Bingo Masterlist

Meeting Sebastian Stan

The video I took of Sebastian when my daughter and I met him at NYCC 2022

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XXV. Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @thekingofkawai​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, AMAB oral receiving, penetrative sex (AFAB+AMAB)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello there dearest readers. Here it is. The final chapter of Remember Me, Special Dreams. I won’t replicate all the sentiments I wrote about in my post here but just know that I love and appreciate every single one of you who has read this story. Until next time, all my love, Saskia ❤️

Sandman Masterlist  

-----------------  

5 Years Later

The weekend bag weighing down your dominant hand is what you focus on as you de-materialise in an eddying haze. Despite having travelled this way countless times, you still get anxious about doing it alone. Getting out of your head by connecting with your senses was a good way of diminishing the feelings but the only thing that could truly banish them was the sight of your destination, the heart of the Dreaming.

It had only been a couple of days but you had missed it keenly.

You taste the fresh, nurturing air as you gratefully inhale a breath. Welcome images of both pure realism and fantasy beam from your optic nerves to your brain. Faint sounds of ripples across the surface of the lake are a soothing soundtrack. Your tension from travelling melts away.

You journey across the bridge that leads to the front doors. Sure, you could have appeared inside the palace but you like the walk to soak in every detail of the approach and converse and check in with Dreamfolk that you see on your way.

You have timed your arrival to coincide with the end of Morpheus' audience hours in the throne room. You take the familiar route to the place now.

With a careful press of your palm, you noiselessly push one of the doors open and slip through the gap. While neither of you can see each other yet, you are aware that Morpheus knows you are here. He would have felt your presence as soon as you re-entered the Dreaming.

You leave your luggage to the side of the door frame and walk to the bottom of the curving staircase. The resplendent glass panels that serve as a backdrop eke gorgeous pastel shades over the marble that makes up the cathedral-like room.

As you look up to where Morpheus sits on his throne, a warm smile touches his rosy lips, one that you cannot help but return.

"My love," his voice oozes with the sweetness and warmth of honey and ginger.

"My Lord."

You ascend the steps, each footstep invoking a growing anticipation. To be close to Morpheus again is your only wish.

Once stood in front of him, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his mouth. His lips touch the ring on your left hand; a silver band set with a black opal. The iridescent speckles in the stone reflect colours of red, blue and green onto his pale skin.

He keeps his eyes locked with yours throughout, enhancing the intimacy.

You pull your hand away gently and rest it on the back of your neck as you are overwhelmed by the feelings blossoming in your chest.

Even after all these years, he is still able to make you giddy and delirious.

"Hi Morpheus," You say shyly.

"Hello, Y/N." He stands and puts his hands firmly on your waist. "Tell me how you are, how were your parents?"

You smile broadly as you mentally recall the weekend you had spent together. Afternoon walks and conversations that lasted long into the night. Wholesome food and non-stop tea drinking. Reminiscing and planning for the future. So much love and affection.

"It was lovely. They were on sparkling form, although they seemed a bit disappointed that you couldn't be there."

"Next time, I promise." He pulls you into an embrace. His clean, comforting scent is a balm.

You mumble your next words against his chest. "I think they might also be starting to notice that I've stopped ageing."

You are melancholy about this; their realisation means it will bring about change and you have grown quite accustomed to your life in its current guise.

"Do you regret your decision?" He whispers.

Pulling away, you cup his jaw with a hand. "Not at all. I promised forever in our wedding vows."

"And I promised to support you in times of difficulty.”

"It's okay. We always knew this day would come."

"We should decide what to tell them."

"I agree,” you lighten your tone. “But first, you must let me know how you have been."

Morpheus looks wistful. "I have missed you, My Queen, as I always do when we are apart."

"I missed you too. Especially at night."

You are referring to the necessary measure where you are shut off from the Dreaming when you spend a night in the waking world. It is something that you know saddens Morpheus, for it brings him great satisfaction to feel you enjoying dreams again after choosing to live predominantly in the Dreaming, particularly the dreams he makes especially for you.

"I thought about you a lot when I was alone," you confess in an afterthought.

Morpheus raises his eyebrows. "Did you think of anything in particular?"

"I think you can guess."

He chuckles with a playful smile. "I have an inkling but I would much prefer you tell me."

"I would much prefer to show you."

You push on his shoulders to get him to sit once more and then sink down onto your knees. Your long black coat, deliberately reminiscent of Morpheus’ own, pools about you.

“May I?” You ask as you trace an index finger around the circumference of the button on his trousers.

He nods and a little thrill electrifies your core. While it was not the first time you had done things in this room, you always find it exhilarating to be able to pleasure your King atop his throne, and even more so when you are the one taking charge of the situation.

You free his erection and steady it at the base with your hand. His tip is dripping with arousal; you lap at it with your tongue and he gasps.

His reaction makes you grin mischievously. You tease him with little licks and kisses until he is tense with need. He has never begged verbally yet you know that this state is the closest he will get to uttering the words and a cue that he is desperate.

The instinct to quell his torment is all-encompassing.

You open your lips and take him into your mouth. The groan he issues as you envelop him is guttural.

You take in as much as you can handle without bringing yourself discomfort and then look up at your husband. Lustful darkness glints in his eyes. You move.

Dragging upwards, you suck all the way to his swollen tip, swirl your tongue around and then dip back down. You repeat this at various speeds and pressures, and use your hands to provide extra sensation. Scandalous, wet noises and breathy panting fill your ears and turn you on.

You slow a little and peek up at Morpheus. His hands are gripping the arms of the throne, clearly showing the strain he is bearing in order to keep himself under control. You know that he wants to let his hips rise up. You tighten your lips and move faster to compensate. He begins to twitch.

“Y/N,” he calls.

You withdraw.

"I want you in my lap."

You stand, and as you do so the clothes covering your body dissolve into nothing. It is a feat that never fails to impress you.

Morpheus moves to sit further forward on the throne and you place yourself so your thighs are either side of his hips. His expectant expression and the feeling of skin on skin makes you quiver with delight.

You fix your attention on the enchanting, exquisite face that you adore, at the person you love so dearly and your heart stumbles. You sometimes wonder how the universe pulled this off however you are glad it managed to.

Morpheus draws your face to his and you kiss deeply, running your fingers through his wild, wispy locks. His own fingers massage your breasts and your nipples harden against his soft palms.

Without breaking the kiss, you position your entrance to hover over his cock. You pull back and look deep into Morpheus’ bottomless blue eyes.

"Do it," he says darkly, as his smouldering gaze consumes you.

You drop down with a controlled flex of your leg muscles.

The groan that rumbles in his chest is like the growl of a jaguar. Your own groan is higher in pitch but just as vehement.

You find a rhythm; a shallow yet sensual one that keeps you from knocking your knees or Morpheus' back into the upright of the seat.

You stare at each other with wonder. All that pent up longing seeps away, replaced by relief.

Your forehead falls to rest on his shoulder. From your new viewpoint, you have full sight of the place where your bodies are joined. You blink in surprise.

Literal constellations are swirling, dancing on your skin.

Shades of blue, purple and pink highlighted with twinkles of silver, they caress the insides of your thighs, hips. Everywhere that Morpheus’ skin is touching yours.

You have no idea whether he knows what he is doing.

You stop your rutting and raise your head.

"My love?" He questions with concern.

You look down again and he follows suit.

Morpheus sees the galaxies. His lips part in surprise.

He experimentally trails his fingers up your neck and across your jaw. You can’t see however you know that the same is happening because of his expression of fascination.

His hands are then everywhere. Brushing over your lips, eyelids, breasts, stomach, leaving stars in his wake. He's painting you with his very essence. Making you shine with the same radiance of the ceiling above you.

He then places a palm over your heart. “I love you, Y/N,” he intones delicately.

“I love you, Morpheus.”

You kiss again before you grip the back of the chair and lift yourself up a little. Morpheus' hands grasp your hips and making full use of the newly created space, he begins to pump up into you.

Burying your face against his neck, you gasp with every thrust as he hits a spot inside you that makes you feel like you are on the way to losing your composure.

You allow him to do it. You let yourself be swept by his currents, higher and higher into the boundless night sky above you.

He then makes a sound that has been echoing in your mind since the very first time you had sex. A deep, drawn out moan of pleasure that makes your walls start to constrict.

You relish the cooling flood of liquid that he spills inside you and the shuddering of his release triggers your own. Morpheus' long fingers then engulf your clit with sweet friction and your body arches with ecstasy.

You are suspended, floating in the vacuum of space. The stars that float around you, the same as the ones marking your skin.

Your lips are forming a single word. His name, but you can't hear the sound in your current orbit.

Morpheus' voice pulls you back through the atmosphere and down to somewhere more grounded.

He is murmuring praises that tickle the shell of your ear.

You are weak, unable to reply with anything but laboured breaths. Your legs shake so much that you are afraid you will fall if you try to get up. All you can do is cling to him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree.

Morpheus stands, still buried inside you. Your surroundings transform into your bed chamber.

You whimper when you feel your centre of balance shift as he goes to lay you down on the sheets. You don’t want to leave the safety his arms provide.

"Relax, my love," he murmurs.

He lets his cock slip out from your warmth. Pillows cushion the back of your head and cotton meets your bare skin. He clears his release away with a wave of his hand and drapes the covers over your exhausted frame. Suddenly, he is gone from your vision field.

"Morpheus?" You sound fearful.

"I am here, Y/N." He reassures.

He settles into the space beside you. You smile as you feel his hands stroking your face. Soothing you this way was something he excelled at.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

You shake your head, fighting to keep your eyes open. “No, thank you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

"Sleep, my love. I will watch over you until you wake."

It was such an inviting idea. The light in the room begins to dim, as if Morpheus has read your thoughts.

You give in to the lull, but before you are drawn under, you grab onto Morpheus’ hand.

"Don't leave me, please," you implore.

He lies down beside you and pulls you flush against his chest with his lithe arms.

His reply is a promise, spoken with his usual sibilance of storm clouds and sea breezes, a promise that would last for eternity.

"I wouldn't dream of it.”

-----------------

"So let me sleep where I live. With a murder of crows that live in the boughs of my brain. See me when I float like a dove. The skies above are lined with trees. I'm on my knees, I'm singing please. Come and take me away."

A/N II: A happy ending! Hope you enjoyed it. Would love to know your thoughts. Have a good evening ❤️

Also. Send help. I watched The Boat That Rocked and On The Road last week and I am now more in love with Tom than ever.

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