#based off when samuel gets caught and gagged
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
the town mouse and the country mouse
#based off when samuel gets caught and gagged#ch430 lookism and csm ch52 btw#외모지상주의#samuel seo#yoojin#yujin#seo seongun#lookism#lookism manhwa#lookism webtoon#lookism fanart
264 notes
·
View notes
Link
Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.
Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.
GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.
AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.
GT: Although some people think it is.
Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.
AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.
Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.
Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.
AL: Unlike certain people.
How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.
AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.
Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.
GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.
Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.
GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.
How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.
GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”
And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.
You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.
AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.
GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.
There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.
GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.
How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.
GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.
Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.
GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.
AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.
GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.
What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.
AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.
GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.
There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.
GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”
AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.
GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”
How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.
GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.
Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.
---
Omg the mug’s origins :D
‘GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael. ‘
#staged#georgia tennant#anna lundberg#david tennant#michael sheen#staged season 2#staged interview#david's michael mug
621 notes
·
View notes
Link
Staged's Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant: 'Scenes with all four of us usually involved alcohol'
Not many primetime TV hits are filmed by the show’s stars inside their own homes. However, 2020 wasn’t your average year. During the pandemic, productions were shut down and workarounds had to be found – otherwise the terrestrial schedules would have begun to look worryingly empty. Staged was the surprise comedy hit of the summer.
This playfully meta short-form sitcom, airing in snack-sized 15-minute episodes, found A-list actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant playing an exaggerated version of themselves, bickering and bantering as they tried to perfect a performance of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author over Zoom.
Having bonded while co-starring in Good Omens, Amazon’s TV adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel, Sheen, 51, and Tennant, 49, became best buddies in real life. In Staged, though, they’re comedically reframed as frenemies – warm, matey and collaborative, but with a cut-throat competitiveness lurking just below the surface. As they grew ever more hirsute and slobbish in lockdown, their virtual relationship became increasingly fraught.
It was soapily addictive and hilariously thespy, while giving a voyeuristic glimpse of their interior decor and domestic lives – with all the action viewed through their webcams.
Yet it was the supporting cast who lifted Staged to greatness,Their director Simon Evans, forced to dance around the pair’s fragile egos and piggy-in-the-middle of their feuds. Steely producer Jo, played by Nina Sosanya, forever breaking off from calls to bellow at her poor, put-upon PA. And especially the leading men’s long-suffering partners, both actors in real life, Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.
Georgia Tennant comes from showbiz stock, as the child of Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson. At 36 she is an experienced actor and producer, who made her TV debut in Peak Practice aged 15. She met David on Doctor Who 2008, when she played the Timelord’s cloned daughter Jenny. Meanwhile, the Swedish Lundberg, 26, is at the start of her career. She left drama school in New York two years ago and Staged is her first big on-screen role.
Married for nine years, the Tennants have five children and live in west London. The Lundberg-Sheens have been together two years, have a baby daughter, Lyra, and live outside Port Talbot in south Wales. On screen and in real life, the women have become firm friends and frequent scene-stealers.
Staged proved so successful that it’s now back for a second series. We set up a video call with Tennant and Lundberg to discuss lockdown life, wine consumption, home schooling (those two may be related) and the blurry line between fact and fiction…
Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.
Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.
GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.
AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.
GT: Although some people think it is.
Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.
AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.
Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.
Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.
AL: Unlike certain people.
How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.
AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.
Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.
GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.
Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.
GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.
How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.
GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”
And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.
You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.
AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.
GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.
There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.
GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.
How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.
GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.
Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.
GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.
AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.
GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.
What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.
AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.
GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.
There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.
GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”
AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.
GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”
How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.
GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.
Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.
#Michael Sheen#David Tennant#Staged#Staged 2#Georgia Tennant#The tidy corner#we noticed it#Staged2#SwedishFishAL
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Naughty or Nice (Sam Wilson x Reader)
Summary: You and Sam decide to risk it.
Warnings: oral, dirty talk, risky oral, Sam has a risk kink.
A/N: Part 5 of Kink Series! This is loosely based on events that happened on my Christmas morning 😈
“I’m just gonna start taking these to our room.” You said gathering some of the presents you and Sam, your amazing boyfriend of four years, were given from your family members for Christmas. Without even looking behind you, you knew the man grabbed some presents as well, following behind.
You both sat the presents on the bed grabbed and you were immediately pulled into Sam’s arms with your lips crashing together, “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much babe.” He groaned against you, his hand moving all along your body. That morning he had gotten back from a month long mission to an undisclosed location. Like landed, showered, and had to meet you back at your apartment for Christmas. He even had trouble staying awake while opening presents.
You moaned against his lips, gently nipping at them, “I missed you too handsome. You can’t stay away like that again.” You pulled his body closer to yours as his hands ran up and down your body, stopping and squeezing your breasts roughly then stepping away.
“You know I can’t control that.” He chuckled and walked back out to the living room. He had a way of doing that with you. He would turn you on when it was the least appropriate times and then just walk away. You took a deep breath and followed him back out, acting like he didn’t affect you the way he did.
About half an hour later you and Sam were both back in your bedroom putting away some of your presents when he pulled you to him again. He kissed you harder than the last time, which made your knees buckle slightly. Sam’s hand moved around and squeezed your ass roughly.
“Sam,” You mumbled against his lips, “My cousin can walk in here any second.”
“You know I was fully prepared for you to give me a blowjob with your family in the next room.” He smirked pulling back only slightly.
“Not happening, Wilson.” You chuckled, pushing him away slightly. He walked over to the door acting like he was going to leave but he leaned back against the door, pulling your body into his. His lips were rough against yours once again and his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip. One of his large hands moved to tangle itself in your hair. He pulled your head back and nipped at your now exposed throat. You could hear his other hand messing with his zipper, freeing his hard cock.
“You know baby girl, I was going to let you get away with it but not happening now.” He smirked, using your earlier words against you. He pulled at your hair in a way that made you drop to your knees. You looked up at him, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it before pushing it all the way down your throat, “Fuck, that’s it such a good girl. Hold it there baby.”
He held your head down on his cock before pulling your head up and thrusting his cock down your throat. You swallowed around his cock and with the next thrust from Sam’s hips you felt your throat close up as you gagged then pulled back releasing his heavy cock from your mouth. A small amount of drool had gathered under your lip and you swiped your thumb over it to get it off.
“Damn baby girl, that was so hot.” He smirked and tried to pull you close.
“No way, we need to go back out there.” You pushed passed him to open up the door but was pressed against it with Sam’s large body dwarfing yours.
“Y/N,” he whined kissing your neck, “I’ve missed you so much. All I want to do is take care of you and make you feel good.” Sam rutted his hips against your ass, making your head fall against the door.
“Samuel Wilson, you know I missed you too and I promise later on we can have so much fun.” You turned around in his arms and he picked you up, grinding his hips hard against yours. His head was buried in your neck, nibbling and sucking roughly. “But right now I can hear my cousin running this way.”
Sam groaned against your neck and gently let you down and pulled the door open after a quick readjustment , “Hey bud! You like all your presents?”
“Yeah! They were all so cool!” He launched his small body at Sam, who easily caught him. “Mom said to come tell you Captain America and Bucky are here. They brought presents!”
You looked at Sam with a quirked eyebrow, “I might have told them if they didn’t have anything to do they were welcome to join us.”
“You know my mom has the biggest crush on Bucky right?” You laughed, making sure you looked presentable before walking towards the living room.
“Yeah, but you know I like making Bucky uncomfortable.” Sam chuckled and sat your cousin down, taking the presents from the two men while you greeted them.
“James! It’s so good to see you again!” Your mother said loudly pulling him onto a hug. He let out a little squeak as she pulled his head into her chest.
“Mom! Let the man go.” You groaned.
You and your family continued to enjoy your Christmas together. Your mother, grandmother, and aunt all cooking Christmas dinner while your cousin played with his new toys, Bucky and Steve talked with your grandfather about history, you and Sam just spent time together. You were slightly sitting in his lap, really sitting more to his side with your legs over his lap. You were massaging his neck and his hand was rubbing circles on your thigh.
“Come on, come help me set up this new fancy tv.” You stood up off his lap and held your hand out for him. The two of you went back to your bedroom, you sitting at your desk while you watched Sam work on the tv.
“You know I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.” He stood in front of you with one hand on his hip.
“I don’t know what you’re talking back.” You smirked up at him. Yeah you did. You were looking at him like he was a piece of meat. He stepped slightly closer, brushing his thumb on your cheek and slowly moved his hand to where it was wrapped around your throat squeezing it slightly.
“You know I don’t like it when you try to lie to me baby girl. I was going to make you feel good tonight but since you wanna be naughty I’m gonna just use your pretty little mouth.” He moved his hand from your throat to your hair, pulling it like he had earlier. He kept eye contact with him while he pulled his zipper down and freed his cock. “Open your pretty little mouth for me.”
You obeyed and opened your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out. Sam slowly thrust his cock down his throat, holding himself there when he felt the tip of his cock hit your throat. You pressed your tongue on the vein that ran along the bottom of his cock and slowly pulled your head off his cock. Your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock before your head dropped all the way down.
“Fuck I can’t get enough of your mouth. I’m already about to cum. You take me so good baby girl. Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your throat?” He pulled your mouth off his cock and tugged at your hair, forcing you to look up at him.
“Please use my throat, sir.” You whimpered, biting your lip. Sam let out a growl and pulled your head closer. You opened your mouth, letting his heavy cock slip between your lips, and braced your hands against his thick thighs. He roughly thrust his hips into your mouth, making his cock hit the back of your throat each time, causing you to gag. You calmed yourself and swallowed around Sam’s thick cock, making him moan. His hips started to stutter against your hips and a few thrusts later he held your head down all the way on his cock as he came down your throat. Once you swallowed his load you pulled back with a smile and licked your lips.
“Fuck, I think that’s the quickest I ever came.” He chuckled, cleaning himself up and getting a dirty shirt to wipe your mouth of any drool. As Sam was cleaning the two of you up your mother called saying that dinner was ready, her voice right down the hallway.
“I think you just like the idea of nearly getting caught.” I shook my head and took his hand, walking to the dining room.
You sat down between Bucky and Sam at the table. Steve was across from the three of you and he had a deep blush painted across his cheeks. You looked up at Bucky and saw his face was painted with a similar blush, but he was also really squirmy in his chair. You judged him with your elbow, “You ok there, Buck? I know you don’t usually like being around a lot of people but-,”
“I’m fine.” He squeaked and tugged at his jeans. You glanced down and your eyes grew considerably. Your head whipped around to Sam in shock but noticed Steve acting in a similar fashion.
“Oh god,” you placed your head in your hands, leaning your elbows on the table. They had both obviously heard you and Sam, and what they had heard had affected them. Sam let out a chuckle and pulled you close.
“I told you I liked making Bucky uncomfortable. Just didn’t know it’d have the same effect of Stevie.” He whispered in your ear. You looked up again to the two other men with a blush on your own and now noticed a certain gleam in their eyes that you noticed specifically when Sam was aroused and ready to pounce.
“Y/N Y/M/N, you know better!” Your mother scolded you and you felt your gut drop. She found about what took place less than 10 minutes ago with your whole family in the next room. You just knew, “Get your damn elbows off the table!”
#sam wilson#sam wilson oneshot#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson smut#avengers smut#marvel smut#marvel oneshots#avengers oneshot
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
Taken By The Wind: A Sam Winchester x Rowena McLeod Love Story Chapter 5: Locked On You
Chapter 1: You Naughty Boy After Chapter 1: Wildfire Chapter 2: Why Thank You Chapter 3: Yes Please After Chapter 3: Hours Chapter 4: Green Velvet
Tags: 18+, sex, explicit sex, smut, porn. oral sex, penetrative sex, no condom, consent, size kink. Excessive descriptions of Rowena being gorgeous. This particular chapter includes breath play, handcuffs, panic attack, and discussion of past non-sexual trauma including canon death.
Thanks to @marril96 for the suggestions that got the plot rolling and @boondoctorwho for the beta reading! Check out her new series Shackled
Rowena was a complicated woman and her moods varied every day. She could be hot or cold, sweet or feisty, naughty or nice. The one thing that she was consistently?
Powerful.
She loved to have control in every situation. Which was the very reason that Sam so loved to take it away from her in bed. Sometimes, he did it by making her beg for the pleasure he gave her. Sometimes, he did it by taking what he wanted from her. Sometimes, he did it the most obvious way- by tying her up.
Any kind of physical bond on Rowena was merely a gesture. Just like Sam's apparent size advantage, it made no difference. If Rowena really wanted to, all she would have to do was snap her fingers to escape or incapacitate Sam. So when Sam had Rowena tied up and begging, it was because Rowena wanted to be tied up and begging. And oh, how Sam wanted her that way!
Rowena knew Sam could never resist being teased, and she loved to tease him. In fact, she had been working on him for several days, winding him up for what she knew would be explosive sex. She started getting his attention in little ways- wearing outfits she knew he liked, standing a little closer than she needed to, brushing her fingers against him in passing, playing with her hair when she pretended not to know he was watching. Two nights ago, she found a reason to be out of the bunker overnight.
Yesterday, she stepped up her game, making sure Sam couldn't ignore her. When he sat at the library table reading, she leaned over him, brushing her breasts against him. She found reasons to walk up and down the stairs, making sure he was watching her ass. She laughed loudly at Dean's stupid jokes, tossing her hair and showing off her neck. At dinner, she made sure to sit close to Sam and hang on his every word, batting her eyelashes enticingly. After dinner, he caught her in the hall. Pressing his tall body against hers, he kissed her hotly. She kissed back, eagerly, and then pulled away with a little shake of her head.
"Not tonight, Samuel," she murmured before slipping to her room and closing the door.
Today, she enacted the last stage of her plan. After making sure Sam noticed her, pushing him right to the edge, she played hard to get. When he walked into the room, she found a reason to leave. When he talked, she pretended to be engrossed in something -anything- else. She didn't laugh at his gentle teasing or respond to his flirting. By evening, he was wound so tight with frustration and desire that Rowena could feel him shaking whenever she was nearby.
After dinner, Rowena slipped off to the library. She grabbed a book and settled down into one of the big leather chairs, propping her feet up on a low table. She had a firm sense of her own beauty, and knew how to pose in order to display herself to the best advantage. She pressed her shoulders into the chair, pushing her breasts high against her rose gold sweater. She crossed her ankles, making sure her skirt slipped above her shapely calves and wrapped just so around her thighs.
She didn't have to wait long. Soon, Sam loped into the library, calling her name. When he spotted her, he loomed over Rowena, his hands on either arm of the chair. She was caged in by his body so she couldn't have gotten away if she wanted to.
"Rowena," he said. His voice was low. Tense energy seemed to crackle in the space between them. "I know what you're doing."
Rowena arched her perfect eyebrows.
"You do?"
Sam shook his head. Gods, he couldn't think when he looked at Rowena's bright glossy lips.
"You're teasing me, winding me up. That's enough!" He cupped her face in one hand and punctuated his words with kisses. "No - more - teasing."
Rowena sighed happily and slipped her arms around Sam's neck. She kissed him back, parting his lips with her sharp tongue. Sam gathered her in his long arms and picked her right up out of the chair. He slid one arm under her knees as he carried her out of the library and down the hall towards his bedroom in a flurry of hot kisses. With swift fingers, Rowena had his shirt undone before they ever got there.
Sam kicked open the bedroom door with one booted foot and laid Rowena down on his bed, on the thin pillows and scratchy cheap blanket. He pulled her sweater up over her head before letting her wiggle out of her dark skirt while he tossed aside his shirt and t-shirt. He pushed her back against the pillows so he could see her, all of her. In his spartan room, she shone like an exotic jewel. He wanted her so much he could hardly stand it. But he was willing to take his time. After enduring days of her teasing, he was going to make it worthwhile for both of them.
Sam covered Rowena's perfect tight body with hot kisses while she laughed and sighed and squirmed under his touch. Just for him, Rowena reached above her head to run her fingers through her thick red curls, letting them spill over the pillows. Sam leaned over her and ran one warm hand up her toned arms. Before she knew what was happening, Rowena felt the cold metal of hand cuffs click shut around her wrists. She gasped and pulled against them, but Sam had her. Her eyes widened with excitement and Sam chuckled at her response.
"You think you can tease me like that and get away with it?" He asked. "I'm going to keep you here and make you pay."
Rowena shivered with anticipation. Sam's mouth moved lower and lower down her body, kissing and licking as he made his way to what they both wanted. He traced his callused fingers over her fine collarbones and then pressed his hand against the base of her throat. He looked at Rowena, at her creamy neck under his big hand, and she nodded. He could feel Rowena's fast breathing and little moans under his touch. He tightened his grip on her throat as he concentrated on pulling her panties off with his teeth.
Rowena felt lightheaded, floating away on a mix of pleasure and breathlessness. Suddenly, panic surged through her. She was suffocating and she couldn't escape. She felt helpless, pinned down against her will. For the first time in a long time, she was powerless.
She jerked hard against the cuffs, yanking her wrists against the cold metal. She reached out for her magic but couldn't feel it. Jagged bolts of purple light fizzled in the air around her wrists as she tried in vain to free herself. A strangled cry tore from her mouth.
Sam reacted instantly, pulling his hands and lips off of her. But it was too late - Rowena was somewhere else, somewhere horrible. She drew a deep ragged breath and began to scream, wild cries of terror that pierced Sam straight through the heart.
"Rowena!" He called her name, truly scared. But she was beyond hearing. Her body shook in fear of something he couldn't see, and the handcuffs cut gouges into the fine skin of her wrists. Sam reached up quickly and undid them, but not in time to stop the trickle of blood down her pale forearms. He had no idea what was going on, and was afraid to make it worse, but he gathered Rowena in his arms.
On some level, she registered that he was there, and she curled into his embrace. He held her close as she trembled and sobbed. Her skin was clammy, her temples sweaty. She clenched her hands into fists, trying in vain to stop them from shaking. Little sparks of purple magic still fell from her fingertips.
Sam felt her gradually come back to him, returning from whatever hell she had visited. He pulled her in tighter, tucking her head against his chest. He ran his fingers softly through her sweat-damp hair, letting her know that he was there and she was safe.
Finally, with a ragged sigh, Rowena sagged against his chest. Sam stroked her face and gently cupped her chin. Pulling her gaze to his, Sam looked Rowena full in the face.
"Rowena," he asked softly, "What happened?"
Her green eyes filled with tears and she looked away.
"I couldn't breathe," she finally whispered, "And then I was back in Hell, with Lucifer, choking me." She gagged involuntarily, the flashback was so strong.
Sam shook his head. Of course. How could he have been so stupid?! He knew Lucifer, he had been to hell. How did he not think that this would trigger Rowena?
"Do you know what it's like..." The words caught in her throat. "Do you know what it's like to be burned alive?" Rowena shuddered, hard, memories of torturous pain searing through her.
Sam did know, that was the worst part. He, like no one else, understood exactly what Rowena had suffered. He had no words. Nothing he could say could make anything better. Helplessly, he held her close, trying to let her know that he was there, wanting to make things okay.
Sam took one of her fine hands in his, and that's when he realized her wrists were still bleeding. Rowena could've -should've- had enough magic to heal a minor wound like that, but she was too depleted to try.
"Oh, Ro," Sam sighed. He laid Rowena back on the bed. She let go reluctantly and whispered his name.
"Hang on," he told her.
He stood up and grabbed his discarded t-shirt. Walking to the sink in the corner, he ran warm water over the cloth. Sam came back to Rowena and wiped the blood off her arms in long strokes from her elbows to her wrists. He inspected the cuts on her wrists more closely. Her fine skin was puffy and raw, already bruising.
Sam couldn't help feeling like he was at fault, like he had caused this, like he had hurt Rowena in this way.
"Sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, her lashes wet and dark as her eyes fluttered closed. His gaze on hers was so intense she couldn’t bear it. She would've felt angry if anyone else had seen her without her protective armor in place. In front of Sam, she felt ashamed. He had always treated her with respect, even reverence for her depth of knowledge and experience. She felt somehow like she had disappointed him, and she hated it.
"Stop talking," she begged, her voice hoarse.
Sam obeyed, ducking out of the room just once to grab first aid supplies. When he came back, Rowena reached out for him. He settled on the bed next to her and wrapped her in a warm embrace before letting her go so he could take care of her.
Sam's fingers were tender as he dabbed cream on Rowena's cuts and then wrapped gauze gently over her damaged wrists. He taped the bandages and then placed a gentle kiss on each one.
Rowena was shaking from cold and the aftermath of adrenaline. Sam grabbed a worn flannel and offered it to her. She pulled it over her shoulders and Sam buttoned it up. Rowena was swamped in the shirt but appreciated the warmth. It smelled like Sam, and it comforted her.
Sam opened a bottle of water and handed it to Rowena. She drank it all down thirstily. He had never seen her like this, broken and small. All he wanted to do was comfort her, hold her.
He took a soft washcloth and wiped her face, cleaning off the mingled sweat, tears and makeup. When her porcelain cheeks were clear, he brushed the softest of kisses over her freckles.
He hated that she was hurt, hated that he had triggered this. It was a shock to see her absolutely shattered. Pride and magic were so much a part of her. He had never considered just how fragile she was without them. He thought he had gotten a glimpse of who Rowena was before she became a witch. It explained so much about her relentless quest for power.
Slowly, he stretched out on the bed beside her, careful to give her space. He had swapped his jeans for pajama pants but his chest was still bare. Rowena sighed and nuzzled back against his warmth. Sam curled his body around her small one, spooning her in his embrace. He carefully tucked one arm over her, pulling her in close. This was the most vulnerable they had ever been together, and he was frankly caught off guard.
Eventually, Rowena's breathing slowed as she succumbed to sleep. Sam stayed awake, watching over her. Her long red hair was splayed across the pillows, her lashes like lace on her cheeks. Sam's heart wrenched in his chest. When had he come to care for her so much?
Rowena had burst into his life as an enemy, and time had gradually made her a partner of Team Free Will. But to him, she was more- she had become a mentor, a friend. Their sexual relationship had grown up in the space between them. Rowena -and sex with Rowena- had become one of the best parts of Sam's life.
As Sam watched Rowena sleep in his arms, he finally admitted to himself the truth. She was more than a partner, a friend. She was more than a good time. She was his lover.
Sam loved Rowena. He realized it with a sharp pang of desire. How could he be holding this woman in his arms and still longing for so much more - for her, with her - at the same time?!
In the dark quiet of Sam's sparse bunker room, Rowena shone like a wayward star. Sam drew her in, curling around her protectively. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, breathing in the sweet clean smell of her skin and hair. Her delicate body was warm against his. He marveled at the sense of closeness, at the delight of just being there with her.
Sam sighed contentedly. Rowena's heart, beating strong and steady in time with his, was the last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep.
SPN First Last and Always: @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @divadinag @flamencodiva @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn @the-chocolate-moose @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting
Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia
Rowena My Queen: @lilsylvia @marril96
#sam x rowena#samwena#samwitch#rowena fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#taken by the wind#fangirlxwritesx67
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober 2019
Day Six: Dragged Away
Hi Friends. I hope you are liking all the prompts so far. Thank you for reading.
Day Five: Gunpoint
Summary: What happens when Peter can't save May or himself from a burning building?
Peter stumbled through his window and into their apartment. His left arm dangled useless at his side and the pain, which had been almost too acute before was gone now. He distantly realized this situation was serious. Their apartment complex was on fire. His arm was damaged and he needed to get to May.
Heat spread through his room. Peter strained to see through the smoke that was building. His ankle ached with pressure as he limped forward. It landed the wrong way on a fallen board and he was sent sprawling. His right arm moved forward to catch him but the other flapped as if devoid of bone. The ground slammed into his body knocking the wind out of him.
Peter lay there for a moment, listening to the cries from his building and its occupants before pushing himself up with his good arm and continuing forward. It was difficult crawling with one arm. Sweat dripped down his face and Peter tried to blink away the droplets caught in his eye. He tried to remember the fire safety rules he learned in kindergarten but nothing was forthcoming at the moment. All he knew was Kingpin attacked his home and everyone was suffering because of it. It wouldn’t look like the man was involved but Peter knew his style. Make it looked innocent, like an accident, and no one would be any wiser. All to get vengeance against him.
May’s groans were clear from the other room and he ignored the throbbing in his joints to move faster. The fire was spreading and heat licked his body. He entered the kitchen and grabbed a damp rag from off of the dishwasher. He gagged at the rotten food smell against his nose and mouth but kept it pressed to his face. It was better than not breathing at all.
“May?” He called out but could hear no answer. “May!” He said louder this time and could hear her whisper his name from her bedroom.
The smoke made it impossible to take in a full breath. Peter was subjected to the tainted air and rotten smells with every inhalation. Turning into the room he could see May’s arm draped over the side of the bed. He crawled forward knees burning from the exertion and gazed at her. Soot covered her face and ingrained itself in her laugh lines, making the beautiful turn sour. He dragged her onto the floor taking the damp rag from his mouth and tying it around hers. Her breathing was shallow before and Peter hoped it wasn’t his imagination that it seemed easier on the lower elevation.
Her eyes remained closed. Peter took one large breath before he stood up, legs shaking. Taking both wrists in one hand they made their way forward. Fire bloomed around them creeping closer to their bodies as Peter dragged May behind him. They passed furniture and homework all sitting out as if their world wasn’t being burned to ash.
His skin was hot. Hit throat was hot. Everything was hot and Peter couldn’t remember what it felt like to breath easy. Smoke infiltrated his lungs and burned its way into his body. He staggered against the counter, the edges digging into his stomach. His vision tunneled as he took another breath in.
The door to the apartment was only a few feet away but Peter knew he wouldn’t make it. All of his powers and he wasn’t strong enough. He dragged May forward as far as he could take her before collapsing to the ground. His chest hyperventilated in its pointless search for fresh air. Peter’s eyes fought against the temptation to close and he stared at May’s face.
Peter looked past the soot and scratches on her cheeks. She was peaceful there. Looking at her face one wouldn’t suspect they were in a burning building that they might never get out of. Peter lay there, unable to move but hating himself for giving up. His hand to cupped the side of his aunt’s face before holding her hand and with a frown Peter closed his eyes.
-
The fire truck screeched to a stop in front of the apartment complex in Forest Hills. They were exiting the truck before it was in park. The ladders, hoses, and equipment were unloaded with practiced precision and Samuel Savel said a quick prayer to the powers that be before he and his team entered the building. Most of the families were out already but it was their job to make sure everyone was. To evacuate as many people as they could.
Samuel and his team split the building into sections and methodically searched the rooms. The fire’s plague spread throughout the building, infecting the walls and weakening its structure. This would not be a fast one. His suit was heavy on his body but he pushed through.
He raised his voice in hopes that someone would hear. He heard a muffled cry come from his right and he looked into what once was a sitting room. A young man lay trapped under a fallen board. Samuel moved quickly, pitching the board off and gathering the body into his arms.
Back and forth he climbed the stairs. The damage increasing each time and he knew they were running out of time. Most doors were open because people left in such a hurry. Samuel came upon a closed door and mentally crossed his fingers that it wasn’t locked.
The door opened and he called out but didn’t here any response. Moving further into the room he called again. Planks from the ceiling were strewn along the room and as he pushed one aside he saw something.
There were hands clasped together on the ground. He traced one and saw a woman. Her face was obscured by a cloth, making it hard to see what she looked like. The other revealed a young boy about the age of his own twins. It was only when the women groaned that he realized he stopped moving. Samuel was unusually strong even for a firefighter and with the strength of few he gathered them into his arms.
The buildings structure was irreplaceably damaged and the stairs were no longer an option. He trudged through the apartment and to the window. The ladders they set up earlier on the A-side were there and his teammates took the two burdens from him before he went down the escape. Everyone was out but there was no time to rest. They worked tirelessly to contain the fire; making certain that no other building would face the same fate.
He knew first hand how anguishing it could be to loose all of your possessions. How you could never look through old photographs when the mood struck. There was this deep pining for something long gone that would well up inside you and even though they were just possessions, they were still important. Especially the photos.
His own home was taken about ten years back to a gas leak. All of the photos from his childhood and of his children before age five were burnt away. He could still remember one from a beach day they took when they turned five. All of his family gathered around a sandcastle and a nice lady took the picture for them. Last he saw it was hanging on his fridge.
Samuel leaned against the truck and stared up at the blackened building, his face unreadable. His teammates left him alone knowing he needed time to think after a mission.
He straightened suddenly and got up to check on the survivors. Some of them already went to the hospital but the last two were still there. Samuel stopped when he saw the famous red and gold suit standing to the side.
He swallowed before moving to stand beside the suit. The helmet came off and he saw Tony Stark’s face for the first time in person.
“You pulled them out?” He said and Samuel nodded with a knit brow.
“Is there something I can do for you?” He asked, wondering why Iron Man was here in Queens.
The man didn’t answer but looked over to the boy resting on the gurney. For the first time Samuel took note of what the boy looked like.
His brunette hair was matted down onto his face and his eyes were sad despite the smile directed at the EMT. He looked far younger than Samuel first thought. His breath left him when the blanket covering him moved and he saw what the kid was wearing. The red suit iced with black lines peeped out from under the blanket. A large arachnid was prominently on display. The same symbol Samuel had seen thousands of times on the news. Samuel found his head whipping to the side, staring with wide eyes at the man next to him.
It was known throughout New York, probably the world, that Iron Man took the New York based superhero under his wings. Samuel’s sons were huge fans. He was a huge fan. Spider Man helped the firemen countless times before but he hadn’t known he was so close to home; someone so young.
Metal fingers curled around his shoulder and he looked away from the young boy to glance at his mentor. Gone was the man he was used to seeing in the news. The Tony Stark that stood in front of him was vulnerable. He was real.
His eyes glistened and he spoke quiet and sure.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Samuel nodded and watched as the pair met eyes. A smile that was so like his boys crossed Spider Man’s face and Stark walked away from him toward the boy. His hand came up to settle on his shoulder. Spider Man looked up and Samuel could see the tears forming. The boy’s face was covered when Stark leaned forward and gripped him in a hug. Samuel turned away not wanting to invade on their privacy and made sure there were no reporters around.
He couldn’t wait to get home and tell his twins whom he saved that day.
Thank you!
Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added):: @verdonafrost
Day Seven: Isolation
#whumptober 2019#whumptober#no. 6#dragged away#marvel#irondad#peter parker#may parker#burning building#OC#fire fighters#tony stark#iron man#marvel fanfiction#mcu#spider man#my writing#eliza writes
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
T-Shirt
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Summary: You and Sam have been apart for a while. So, a night out, your favorite dress, Sam’s shirt, it all ends exactly how you think.
Word Count: 3,150 (oops)
Warnings: mentions of blood (very brief), teasing, smut (like, a lot of smut), cursing, fluff of course
A/N: Written for @riversong-sam‘s 200 Followers Challenge. My song was T-Shirt by Thomas Rhett. I’ve wanted to write a fic for this song for a long time, so this was my chance!
“Hey, [Y/N]. We just wrapped up, heading back now. Meet me at our spot at six.” Sam’s voice filled your ear through the speaker of your phone.
He’d called in the middle of your work day, left you a voicemail, and now you were on your way home and more excited than you’d been in a long time. This hunt took a lot longer than Sam and Dean expected, and you missed Sam almost as much as he missed you.
As you whipped your car into the bunker’s garage, you barely had it in park before flinging the door open and running to the shower to wash the day off of you and get ready for a night out with the man of your dreams. While the suds ran from your hair, the thought crossed your mind that Sam may not have had time to shower, and you hoped he wasn’t blood-splattered when you got to him. You sighed and rolled your eyes at the thought of him casually eating dinner at the little cafe, blood speckles looking like freckles under his eyes.
You pulled on a tiny blue dress as you ran your towel over your hair, squeezing the water out. Running a comb through it, you decided natural was the way to go tonight. Just as you finished putting on the last bit of mascara, the front door opened and Dean walked in.
“Hey, sweetheart! Sammy’s waitin’ for ya!” He leaned against the bathroom door frame and gave you a smile. “Lookin’ good.” He winked.
“Thanks, Dean. I’m leaving in a minute. You um... you’re gonna be here tonight?” A blush crept across your cheeks.
Dean groaned and rested his head on the wood molding beside him.
“I’ll make myself sparse. As long as you two aren’t out late, you should be back and uh, wrapping up, before I’m home, right?” He faked a gag.
“Yes, Dean.” Rolling your eyes, you flicked the light off and pushed past the man who had become like your older brother.
“Thank God.” He followed you to the door and hugged you. “Good to be home.” He pulled away, but held your shoulders. “You tell Sam that if he even thinks about bringing you home after your curfew, he’s never allowed back in my house, you got it?” Dean smirked.
“Yes, Dad.” You exaggerated and plucked your clutch purse from the table by the door. “And you, be safe tonight. You have... um, protection?” You looked at your feet, not believing you actually had to ask that.
Dean pulled a foil square from his back pocket and winked at you before you faked your own gagging and ran out the door.
“Have fun!” He laughed and watched as you climbed into your car and drove away.
It was the middle of June, so you had the windows rolled down as you drove. The second you pulled into the small parking lot, you heard Sam’s voice calling your name. He had saved you a spot by standing there since Dean dropped him off, probably earning him lots of dirty looks and a few choice words from other customers who could’ve parked there.
You threw your old SUV in park and shut the engine off as Sam opened the door. Because of the height of the vehicle, when you swung your legs off to the side of the beat up leather seat, Sam’s hips slipped right between your knees. He leaned down and placed a deep kiss to your lips.
“I missed you.” He spoke breathlessly as he pulled away.
“Mm, me too.” You ran your finger over your lip, wishing you could just take Sam home and have his lips molded with yours for the rest of your lives.
He took your hand and helped you jump the short distance to the pavement. Smoothing your dress with your free hand, you turned and reached across the seat for your purse. As you did, Sam couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down over your body, taking in the inward curve of your waist, then the flare out at your hips before your legs became exposed and were lengthened by the wedged sandals you’d chosen. You turned around before he could avert his eyes, and a quiet giggle escaped your lips.
“Enjoying your view, Winchester?” You playfully smacked his chest as he nodded.
You were seated on the patio, surrounded by untimely Christmas lights and overlooking the parking lot for the place next door.
“Drink specials tonight are $2 draft beers and $4 two-toned cocktails.” Your peppy waitress squeaked out her scripted lines.
“What’s a two-tone?” Your eyes grazed down the drink menu.
“It’s a blend of-” She began, but Sam cut her off.
“Two drafts. Whatever you recommend.” He smiled, lips closed, and nodded shortly at her.
“Guess I’m drinking beer.” You shrugged.
“It’s summer. You’re drinking beer.” He gave you a ‘duh’ look with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes lightly and returned to looking at the menu, but you could still feel Sam’s eyes on you.
“Can I help you?” You peered at him over the top of your laminated paper.
“Not from over there. C’mere.” He motioned with his head.
“No way.” You shook your head adamantly, but slid your chair closer to his anyway.
He smiled as he put his hand on your bare knee under the table, sliding it up your thigh slightly.
“Samuel.” You warned as your breath caught in your throat.
“It’s Sam.” He squeezed the muscle in the top of your leg before his long fingers drifted toward your inner thigh.
Your hand darted down and captured his, stopping his efforts.
“Not. Here.” You whispered through gritted teeth.
He smirked as the waitress put your beers on the table.
“And to eat?” She chirped.
“Oh, I think just the beers are good for tonight.” Sam put on his charm.
She shrugged and pulled the menus off the table, then bounced away. Sam’s eyes went back to you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, almost making it raw trying to contain yourself. As Sam practically chugged his beer, you took a few sips of yours before passing it to him to finish. You just wanted to leave, to get him home.
“Dean?” You called as you were pushed through the bunker door, Sam’s hands all over you.
No answer.
“Good, he’s gone.” You turned to Sam as he slammed the door shut.
Before he could make his move, you had him pressed against the cold metal door, lips clashing together in a mess of tongue and teeth. One of Sam’s huge hands splayed across your lower back and pulled you against him as he walked the two of you down the hallway to his bedroom. Your giggles and breathless moans filled the air, echoing off the blank walls.
“Jesus, can you two keep it down?!” Dean threw his bedroom door open and shouted.
“Sorry, Dean!” You giggled again as Sam’s lips attached to your neck and he reached behind you to open his bedroom door.
Dean groaned and pulled his noise canceling headphones back onto his ears, drowning out the now muffled thuds and panting noises coming from where Sam was pushing you against the wall as he fumbled to unlock the door behind you. He pushed it open and slammed it shut before you knew what was happening.
Clothes were torn off in a matter of minutes, hands tangled in hair, tugging and pulling, skin coated in a sheen of sweat, and you hadn’t even hit the bed yet. Sam’s teeth pulled on your lower lip before he kissed his way down your neck, nipping and sucking small marks as he went. He sunk his teeth into the base of your neck and you cried out before he lavished the area with soft open mouth kisses, his tongue darting over the area and somehow soothing the pleasant pain.
Your hands moved down Sam’s chest, feeling the muscles under his shirt moving as he pulled his body away from yours slightly. Your fingers plucked the button on his jeans open and shoved the denim down his thighs, dropping to your knees as you pulled his pants to the floor. Looking up at him, you saw the heat behind his gaze grow hotter, like you on your knees in front of him was the best sight he’d ever seen. Truth be told, it was a pretty good one.
Your hand pushed up under his shirt and you felt his abs flexing under your palm. You whimpered as your mind filled with thoughts about how unbelievably sexy this man - your man - was. Sam reached one hand behind his head and pulled his shirt off in one quick movement, discarding it on the floor beside you. Gazing up at him, your fingers pushed under the elastic of his underwear, dragging them down his legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them backwards before returning to his position right in front of you, close enough for you to touch, but not yet. You had a little more teasing to do.
Reaching down to the hem of your dress, you crossed your arms over your body and pulled it up and over your head. You heard a quiet groan in the back of Sam’s throat when he saw you had opted not to wear a bra. One of your own hands came up to massage your breast, pulling your nipple between two fingers, rolling it slowly, while your other hand gripped Sam’s thigh, fingernails pushing into his skin.
“Fuck, baby, you have no clue what you’re doing to me right now.” He reached down and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him.
“I have an idea.” You smirked and let your eyes glance briefly at his erection bouncing inches in front of your face before returning to meet his stare.
The hand that was on Sam’s leg drifted down, grazing your ribcage, flattening across your stomach, then pushing with just the tiniest hint of pressure over your panties. You bit your lip, stifling a moan as you maintained eye contact with Sam. His heavy cock bobbed with need, making you lick your lips subconsciously. Sam’s hand reached back and threaded into your hair, gripping the back of your head. You knew exactly what he wanted, and he’d waited long enough.
You flicked your tongue out and licked the reddened tip of his dick, long enough for him to feel the contact, but short enough to make him desperate for more. His hand tightened slightly on the back of your head, so you kept going. You brought one hand up to pump him near the base of his shaft, the other hand reaching back and cupping his balls, massaging lightly.
Sam’s primal groans urged you to continue. You wrapped your lips around him and took him as far as you could into your mouth. As he hit the back of your throat, you couldn’t help your gag reflex. Tears pooled in your eyes as a choking sound escaped your lips.
“You okay?” His voice was wrecked, but the concern was real.
You let him fall from your mouth as you swallowed, trying to regain composure.
“All good. Not done with you yet.” You smirked and wiped your eyes before sticking your tongue out flat and letting his cock bounce off of it a few times.
Your lips sealed around his shaft again, sliding back until he was as far in your mouth as he could be without the same consequences as before. You looked up at him, and damn if you weren’t the sexiest little thing he’d ever seen. Your pretty little mouth, those pink swollen lips, all wrapped around his thick cock, bobbing back and forth, tongue sliding against the vein on the underside. His thoughts took over, making it almost impossible for him to hold on.
“Gonna cum.” He strained as the muscles in his stomach tightened and you felt the inevitable throbbing in your mouth.
You hummed your approval and the vibrations sent Sam flying over the edge. He spilled into your mouth, hot and salty, and you swallowed every drop. Something about the taste of Sam lingering in your mouth made the heat between your legs grow. After pulling yourself away from him, you licked your lips and beamed up at him.
“Get up here.” He reached down and took your hand before pulling you back up to standing.
As soon as you were on your feet again, you were being thrown onto the bed. Your back hit the cold sheets, but your front was covered in the heat of Sam’s body. You arched up into him as his lips met yours. He made his way down your neck, across your shoulder, then back to your chest. Sucking a nipple into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud. He lightly sunk his teeth into the hardened skin, making you yelp. His eyes darted up to look at you, your head thrown back, one hand pushed into Sam’s hair, biting down on your lower lip so hard you swear you tasted blood.
His hands traveled down your sides to the waistband of your panties. Your hips lifted off the bed just long enough for him to pull them down over your curves and then off your legs. He planted his face right above your stomach, placing gentle kisses to your flushed skin. As he started kissing downward, you stopped him by pulling on his hair and forcing him to look up at you.
“Not tonight.” You shook your head as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Don’t need it, trust me.” You let out a puff of air, laughing a little at how incredibly aroused you were with almost no effort from Sam.
Something that sounded like a growl rumbled in Sam’s chest as he came back to hover over you. His cock was hard again, pressed against your core as your legs fell apart around his hips. His hands were planted on either side of your head as he effortlessly lined himself up and began pushing in. As the velvety skin of his tip met your slick folds, you arched your back and bucked your hips forward. Slipping in slightly, Sam let out a groan while you gasped.
Slowly, he pushed in farther, stretching your tight inner muscles like this was the first time you’d ever done this. It had been a long time since you’d had Sam inside you, and the combination of his length and girth never ceased to amaze and surprise you.
“Fuck, so tight.” He grunted once he was fully sheathed.
“So big.” You whined breathlessly.
Sam’s smug smile wasn’t lost on you as he dipped his head and kissed you.
“Sammy, I need you to move.” You whispered against his lips.
Slowly, he pulled himself back out slightly. As he pushed back in, the drag of skin on skin paired with the way he always hit your sweet spot without even trying, brought you close to your climax sooner than you expected. Your head thrashed to the side as you bit on the skin of your upper arm, leaving Sam to kiss and suck on your neck while he thrusted in and out of you.
“You ready, baby?” His hot breath sent a chill down your spine.
You didn’t have words, you just moaned and whirled your hips around. Sam understood. You’d been together long enough for each of you to know when it was happening, and God, was it happening. You clenched around Sam, crying out in pure ecstasy. The flutter of your walls sent Sam into his second orgasm of the night, his skin slapping against yours, his hipbones pushing into your inner thighs, and his lips muffling your loud moans.
The two of you rode out your highs together, chests heaving while your hearts raced. Sam’s kisses became gentle instead of hungry, and his finger brushed hair off your sticky forehead. He removed himself from within you, slowly and leaving you aching for his return.
“I missed you.” Sam sighed, a smile on his lips.
“You said that.” You smirked and laid your head on his chest.
“I meant it.” He shrugged and closed his eyes.
You reached over him to the night stand and flicked the small television on, settling on your guilty pleasure reality show. The tiny groan of disapproval Sam let out made you chuckle.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t change this.” You pointed a finger at him knowingly.
You slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom, plucking Sam’s t-shirt off the floor as you went. You brushed your teeth and grabbed your glasses before making your way back to Sam, wearing nothing but his shirt. His eyebrows raised in approval as he smiled at you.
“What?” You grinned.
“You look damn good in my shirt.” He scooted up so he was leaning against the wall behind the bed.
You sat next to him, facing him, legs criss-crossed as you ran a hand through your hair. As you pulled it back into your lap, Sam grabbed it.
“Don’t.” He smiled. “Your hair’s all messed up, all perfectly mussed. Leave it. I like it.” His dimple popped, causing a little flutter in your heart.
You chuckled and shook your head. Moving to sit next to Sam, you leaned over and laid your head on the junction of his arm and his chest, listening as two girls argued over something petty on tv. Sam laughed and rolled his eyes at the argument before turning and placing a kiss to the top of your head.
“How do you feel about wearing my shirt forever?” He spoke quietly.
“What?” You turned and looked up at him.
“You heard me.” He gave you a single nod.
“Did you just say forever?” You felt your heart rate accelerate.
“I did.” His smile grew.
Sam had never even hinted at a future before. You knew his past, about Jess and Madison and Ruby. In your mind, as much as you didn’t want to believe it, you always thought you were just another one of them, a phase for him to go through.
“I wouldn’t mind falling asleep next to my beautiful girl wearing my shirt every night. Waking up to that same pretty face every morning, even if you do snore and drool.” He chuckled.
“I don’t snore!” You smacked his chest.
“It’s cute.” Sam shrugged and pulled you closer to him.
Rolling your eyes, you shifted and put yourself in his lap.
“I would love to wear your shirt forever, Sam Winchester.” Turning, you held his face between your hands and kissed him deeply, promising him the rest of your life with that one simple action.
Forever Tags:
@jpadjackles @abbirae99 @cyrilconnelly @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sandlee44 @mysteriouslyme81 @arctickristina @spontaneousam @smoothdogsgirl @aingealcethlenn @love-kittykat21 @plaid-lover-bay25 @randomthings077 @supernaturally-writing @everythingintensifies @just-a-touch-of-crowley @thegreatficmaster @devilgirlsarah @spnstarships @elliewinchesterr @punkrxckrat @therewillbeblood @spontaneousam @thewhisperingfox @jensen-jarpad @mamaredd123
Sam Tags: @cleverdame @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @arryn-nyx @growningupgeek @i-just-wanna-live-gc @ohmychuckitssamanddean @revwinchester @tas898 @carbonated-beverage @brewthespirit-blog @immawinchestersgirl13 @eccentricsammy
#SamsWritingChallenge2016#200FollowerCelebration#sam winchester#sam x reader#sam x you#reader insert#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#spn x reader#spn x you
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kong: Skull Island [SPOILER-FREE REVIEW]
[Disclaimer: this review is based on the viewing of the Italian dub of the film. As such, all opinions on the quality of dialogues and acting are subjective and partial.]
When you come right down to it, there are only two kinds of cinema: the one that wants to tell you a story, where what’s happening on the screen’s just a vehicle for the plot’s themes and message, and the one that just wants you to have a good old time at the theatre, with story and characters taking a back seat to roaring visual spectacle. And while there’s little doubt in my mind that Mad Max: Fury Road will hold the crown in the latter department at least for the current decade, Kong: Skull Island is definitely the film to see this weekend for seekers of big-screen thrills.
Coming on the heels of Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla (2014), this new incarnation of the classic King Kong mythos positions itself as the Iron Man 2 of sorts in Legendary Pictures’ “MonsterVerse”, to be further expanded over the next few years with Godzilla: King of the Monsters and Godzilla vs. Kong. And the connection in indeed there, right from the film’s opening credits – done in the same style as the previous movie – and first scenes, firmly establishing the monster-hunting organisation Monarch as the MonsterVerse equivalent to Marvel’s S.H.I.E.L.D.
Luckily, that’s where the similarities end. And I’m not trying to throw shade onto Godzilla, by any means; but Kong is an entirely different beast, as liberal with its monster mayhem as its predecessor was stingy. It’s a less artistic movie and a way more energetic one, entirely devoted to fast-paced action even when it takes the occasional brief detour to lay some world-building groundwork for future instalments. It is above all some great B-movie fun, and – therein lies its key to success – it knows it is.
Indeed, Kong: Skull Island manages to entirely avoid any comparison to Peter Jackson’s 2005 adaptation of the same source material simply by swinging the entirely opposite way. Jackson’s King Kong even caught some flak for the drawn-out visual effect sequences taking place on the island before the creature was eventually caught and shipped off to America, from critics evidently more invested in the “beauty and the beast” aspects of the original film than in ape-vs.-dinosaur spectacle. This new Kong doesn’t care for that: it’s full-on monster flick all the way through, paying respectful homage to the original’s themes but heading its own way down the path of pure cinematic escapism. Even its creature design speaks volumes about that: this isn’t Jackson’s giant silverback gorilla, but rather an upright yeti-like figure, as in the 1933 film. It’s not Kong the animal; it’s Kong the iconic movie monster, and it revels in it.
And that’s, I think, where this film gets it entirely right: it’s just so refreshingly earnest in its presentation, serendipitously avoiding the many pratfalls of its genre brethren. It doesn’t try to sell you on a meaningful plot or loaded character drama, the way both Godzilla and Pacific Rim – as well as the infuriating failure that Jurassic World was, critical consensus be damned – did. It doesn’t pretend to be a serious movie; heck, even its explanation for where the monsters come from is massively sillier than the one given in Edwards’ film, and precisely because of that it becomes more acceptable, because it doesn’t pose as something that’s supposed to make sense in our regular, mundane world.
Of course both those previously-mentioned kaijū movies had another problem in common, i.e. the fact that their main heroes had all the charisma of IKEA furniture. Kong skips right over that issue as well by investing in an all-star cast, which fixes the problem in an odd way: while the characters are indeed pretty thinly-written – which, to be fair, is to be expected when dealing with a dozen main roles – the actors’ familiar faces give you the impression of already knowing the key players, thanks to savvy typecasting. As soon as you see Samuel L. Jackson’s mug glaring at you from beyond the screen you know his character is a seasoned badass, and that’s really all you need. Tom Hiddleston is a cool guy, Brie Larson brings her usual earnest determination to the table, John Goodman is an authoritative screen presence, and John C. Reilly is entertaining as always. And, most importantly, everyone’s clearly having a good time acting in this movie... so you have a good time watching. It’s really that easy.
A little aside must be devoted to the film’s soundtrack, which makes excellent use of the story’s early-’70s setting to imbue the movie with a distinct musical identity that goes hand in hand with Jordan Vogt-Roberts’ lively direction. In many ways the film seems to have taken a few lessons away from Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy franchise, and in terms of sheer entertainment it definitely works. It even manages to sneak in a little something that turns Edwards’ use of György Ligeti’s Requiem in Godzilla into a running gag, suggesting that all entries in the MonsterVerse may feature some brief musical callback to Stanley Kubrick’s filmography. It’s little touches like that that make you appreciate a film that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
In conclusion, you won’t get more than two hours of solid, high-octane visual effects-laden entertainment out of Kong: Skull Island, but you won’t get anything less, either. I’d be very surprised if this film made its way into any list of critics’ top choices for 2017, but the point I’ve been trying to get across is that it just isn’t aiming that high, and is all the better for it. Just sit down – making sure you stick around for a promising post-credits scene – and enjoy one of the most childishly entertaining films of the year so far. This Kong definitely is king, at least of this weekend’s screens; and while it may be a small kingdom, I can think of worse thrones to sit on.
[Verdict: POSITIVE]
0 notes