#AKA SIX FICS A MONTH

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Six Sentence Sunday

Trent shifted in the seat next to Roy. He prayed the journalist didn’t say anything. The last thing he needed now was someone writing a book about his fucking mental breakdown.

Fuck.

Trent was writing a book about the season.

Trent was writing a book about the season.

[chuluoyi]

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre/warnings: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

general masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

[justagalwhowrites]

Oral Fixation - A TLOU One Shot

It's your boyfriend Joel's birthday but what do you give the man who has given you so much? AKA You learn how to give Joel a blow job. A one-shot set in the Lavender universe.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

CW: Oral sex, mild age gap (Joel is turning 33, reader is 21 almost 22), mild description of past sexual encounter involving oral sex that wasn't the best, Joel is almost disturbingly happy because he hasn't been traumatized yet RIP trauma-free Joel, unprotected P in V sex, no use of Y/N, 18+ only minors DNI

Length: 4.5k

A/N: The final part of the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration! Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that reader is Sarah's nanny and has been seeing Joel for about six months.

Masterlist | Lavender Masterlist | AO3

September, 2000

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you said, all but clinging to Cassie’s arm as the two of you made your way through the adult store. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but it wasn’t this, neon colored silicone penises and intimidatingly tiny scraps of lace everywhere you looked. 

“And I can’t believe you don’t own a vibrator,” Cassie said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be such a prude, with the way you and the DILF go at it I’m pretty sure you’ve had more sex than I have at this point.” 

Your cheeks got hot but… she was probably right. You and Joel had sex a LOT. So much that it was hard to believe that, just six months earlier, you’d still been a virgin. Sure, you doubted that sex with anyone else was even half as good as it was with Joel but it felt like you’d been denying yourself a whole world of good things because you’d been reluctant to make that leap for so long. Now, you wanted to make up for lost time, something that Joel was happy to oblige. 

But, because you were so new to it, you didn’t really know much and, what’s worse, you didn’t know what you didn’t know. 

Which is why you’d turned to Cassie in the first place. Joel’s birthday was coming up and you’d drawn a complete blank on what to get the man. You’d never gotten anyone a birthday gift who wasn’t your grandmother or your friend. What the hell did you get a boyfriend? What the hell did you get a man? 

“You, naked, ready to recreate the filthiest porn the guy’s got,” Cassie said, not even looking up from the latest issue of Cosmo as she did. “And, because it’s you, bake him a cake or something. He’ll be thrilled.” 

“I don’t know that Joel watches porn,” you crinkled your nose. That made her look up. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She asked, incredulous. “Babes. He’s a man. Of course he watches porn.” 

“I’m sure he would if things were different,” you said. “But he has a kid at home, we have to fight for privacy, I don’t think he’s exactly sitting down and putting on some…” 

“He is,” she said, closing the magazine now. “I promise you, he is. Maybe less now that you’re in the picture but he definitely is. Stashed under his bed or in some shoebox at the back of his closet is a pile of all his dirtiest fantasies and all you have to do is gift wrap yourself, ready to fulfill them.” 

So you might have done some snooping the next time you were at Joel’s before he got home from work. 

Maybe. 

Just a little. 

And yeah, Cassie might have been right. There might have been a box - one a bit bigger than a shoebox but not much bigger - that had tapes and magazines inside. You took a quick inventory, looking at the covers of the videos and flipping through the pages of the more well-worn magazines. 

It seemed both invasive and oddly impersonal, rifling through something that was mass produced and clearly not intended for you to see but was something that it seemed like you should know. The women in the magazines and on the covers of the tapes were so much more… everything than you were. More sexy, more confident, more knowledgable. It made your stomach twist. 

Was this what Joel really wanted? He was older than you and you’d been a late bloomer in the romance department. Of course he had more experience but he’d never made it sound like anything was missing from your sex life. But maybe he was just being nice. Maybe what he really wanted was something more like whatever someone named Candy was doing on the back of this VHS sleeve. 

It seemed like the least you could do for Joel was find a way to give him what he wanted.

So Cassie had convinced you to come to this store to figure out something to do for him for his birthday. Not that you had much idea what that would be. 

“What’s his favorite color?” She asked, examining the tiny scraps of lace. 

“Forest green?” You asked more than answered, examining something that you were pretty sure was a bra but seemed to be missing some key components. You were about to move on to something else when one of the movies playing on the opposite wall caught your eye. It was one of the actresses from the tapes at Joel’s, you recognized her. She was looking hungrily at a cock before taking it into her mouth, eyes closed in bliss with a satisfied groan. 

Cassie noticed where you were staring and joined you, smirking a little. 

“Like watching someone get their dick sucked, eh?” She teased, elbowing you lightly. 

You glared at her. 

“I just…” You looked back at the screen. “I think Joel has that video.” 

“Really?” She said, brows raised, looking back at the screen as the woman started to slide up and down the thick cock. “Well, that’s simple enough. Just blow him, wham bam thank you ma’am, you’re set.” 

“I don’t…” 

“Oh don’t tell me you suck him off too much as it is,” she said. “Your sex life is already insufferably perfect.” 

“No,” you said, defensive, your cheeks getting hot. “I just…” 

“Just what?” She asked when you stayed quiet a bit too long. 

“I’ve never… done that,” you said, looking back at the screen as the woman there hollowed out her cheeks and moaned. 

“What!” Cassie yelped and you shushed her as the other people in the store turned to stare. “You’ve never…” 

“Not with Joel,” you said quickly. “I did once with a guy but it didn’t go great and I really didn’t like it and honestly I think Joel might be too big to…” 

“Too big?” She grabbed your arm, her eyes wide. “Babes, you said he was big but like… what do you mean too big? Gimme a ballpark, like…” she tugged you over to a wall of remarkably life-like dildos and pointed to one on the larger end. “That big?” 

“No,” you said and she looked relieved for a moment before you pointed to one that was even bigger. “More like that one.” 

Cassie’s jaw dropped, looking between you and the silicone dick in awe. 

“That’s what the DILF is packing?” 

“Can you please not call him that?” 

“You big slut!” She was practically beaming. “Taking that for your first time? You deserve a medal!”

“Can we just…” 

“That’s it, you’re sucking his dick for his birthday,” she said, grabbing flavored lube, throat numbing spray and a copy of the tape that was playing overhead. “As often as he apparently goes down on you? Seems like the least you can do is return the favor as he turns… what, 47?” 

You glared at her and she smirked at you. 

“33,” you said. 

“And you don’t want me to call him a DILF,” she said, grabbing a surprisingly conservative set of lingerie and a small vibrator on her way to the counter. “Come on, we’ll turn you into an oral champ before you know it!”

You watched the video with Cassie that night after you had half a bottle of cheap wine in your system. The woman on screen seemed so… into it. The one time you’d gone down on someone was the summer before you left for college, going out with a boy you met at the movie theater when you took the kids you were babysitting there to see Hercules. He was cute, nice, didn’t carry the baggage a lot of the boys you’d gone to high school with did. On your fourth date, you were making out in his car and he’d nudged your head down lower and lower until it was in his lap. He pulled his cock out and you cautiously, hesitantly, took him in your mouth and you did try to do what you thought he wanted while taking it slow. But it didn’t take long before he was moaning and thrusting up into your mouth and you gagged as he pushed your head down further on his dick. You’d all but ripped yourself away, coughing and sputtering, and he half heartedly apologized before trying to push your head to his lap again. You didn’t go for it that time and he took you home. You didn’t go out with him again, deciding to write off men until you were away at college and hopefully meeting one who was fine with you doing things like not sucking their dick. 

Which, Joel was. Or seemed to be, anyway. But if he enjoyed it - if it felt like it was something that was missing from your sex life - you wanted to give it to him. He’d given you so much, you wanted to give him everything. You just needed to figure out how to do it. 

After you giggled your way through the video the first time, you started it again as Cassie gave you some tips: How to breathe through your nose, how to swallow around your gag reflex, how to use your tongue, how guys liked when you choked on it a little. It felt almost like you were in class, taking notes on a piece of scratch paper you mentally vowed to set on fire after you practiced a little with a cucumber so no one had to know that you needed someone to teach you this stuff, stuff that seemed like it should come naturally to you. 

“Just use the throat spray, use the lube and breathe through your nose,” she said when she left to go home the next morning. “You’ll have him eating out of your hand.” 

“Right,” you said, trying to ignore the tight knot of nerves that had settled in your stomach. “I can do it.” 

You carefully selected a Joel-sized cucumber at the grocery store and tried to not feel like an idiot as you followed Cassie’s advice as you practiced leading into Joel’s birthday. It wasn’t as bad when there wasn’t someone shoving your head down on their lap though it still wasn’t your favorite thing. But for Joel? You’d deal. 

The day you were going to celebrate his birthday, the reality of it set in. If there was one thing you were an expert in by now, it was your boyfriend’s cock and your boyfriend’s cock was… big. What if the throat spray didn’t work as well when you weren’t the one in control of what was going in your mouth? Worse, what if you were just bad at it? What if he had an ex who was as good at sucking him off as that porn star would be and you’d be struggling to measure up the whole time? 

You were rarely nervous with Joel anymore but you were weirdly nervous as you made him dinner - chicken fried steak - and tried to not let it show as the two of you ate together and had drinks and cake while watching Alien in his living room after. 

“You spoil me way too damn much, baby,” Joel said as your head was nestled against his chest, his lips in your hair. You could feel him smile against you as he kissed you there. “Best birthday I’ve had in years, thank you.” 

“Well, I might have one more thing for you,” you said, sitting up from him and smiling a little, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Really?” He cocked a smile at you, his cheek dimpling. “Does it involve you naked?” 

“It might,” you teased, relaxing a little as you looked at him. This was Joel, the safest man you knew, the person you loved more than any other. It would be OK. “Want to go to your room and find out?” 

“Good luck stoppin’ me,” he winked, getting up and helping you off the couch. Once you were up stairs, the two of you kissed your way down the hall but he moaned as you pulled away from him and nudged him back toward the bed. 

“Just stay put,” you said. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Not goin’ anywhere,” he called as you disappeared into his bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, forcing yourself to take a deep, calming breath before going to his linen cupboard and pulling out the throat spray, lube and lingerie you’d stashed away earlier. You used the spray first, wincing at the antiseptic-like taste of it, before you quickly stripped, balling up your sundress and bra and pulling on the deep green lacy babydoll set Cassie had picked for you. As you examined yourself in the mirror - fluffing your hair and adjusting your breasts in the sheer cups - you gave your best friend this much: she knew how to help make you comfortable. The set wasn’t too revealing or over the top but still highlighted your curves and put all the parts of you Joel seemed to like best on display. 

“Thank you, Cassie,” you muttered before taking a deep breath and steeling yourself, the strawberry flavored lube clutched tight in your hand. You looked your reflection in the eye and tried to get lost in the almost-porn star version of yourself in the mirror. 

“You got this,” you said almost silently, giving yourself a single, resolute nod before going for Joel’s room again. 

He was sitting obediently where you’d left him, watching the bathroom door. You draped yourself against the frame, popping a hip out to accentuate your curves, one arm stretched high over your head against the wood. Joel’s mouth dropped open, his eyes going wide. 

“Like what you see?” You asked more confidently then you felt. 

“Goddamn, baby,” he said reverently. “Gonna gimme a heart attack, looking that damn good.” 

“Well don’t go dropping dead on me now,” you teased, walking toward him in what you hoped was a sexy way and not something that made you look like an idiot. “You haven’t even gotten your present yet.” 

He put his hands on your waist when you reached him but, instead of straddling him, you reached down and spread his legs so you could step between them. You knelt in front of him, holding his gaze as you did, reaching for his jeans to open them. 

“What…” he frowned, looking down as you freed his cock, thick and long and hard. 

“Told you,” you said, trying to make yourself sound sultry and not nervous. “I had something for you.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you licked his shaft from root to tip, his skin velvet smooth and salty on your tongue. He groaned as you did and you took a deep breath as you took his tip into your mouth, sucking him gently as you did. 

Even just that was a lot and, as your tongue teased him, you squeezed some of the flavored lube into your hand before you spread it over his shaft, working him with your hand, your heart racing. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned as you started taking more of him into your mouth, licking and sucking and trying to focus on breathing through your nose as you did. It took more time than you really wanted to get all of him in your mouth, swallowing past your numbed gag reflex as best you could to take his length into your throat. You moaned as you did, sucking him hard, hollowing your cheeks like the girl in the video had done and he moaned, too, his fingers tightening on the edge of the bed. “Goddamn, your mouth…” 

You would have smiled at that if your mouth wasn’t open so wide. Instead, you started trying to work his cock the same way you did the cucumber in practice, hopefully the same way the girl did in the video he had. 

Joel’s breaths started coming quicker, needy little pants dripping from his lips as his cock dripped in your mouth and you took the encouragement, trying to move faster as you did, trying to take him as deep as you could every time. 

But Joel was big and you were almost positive he was getting bigger as you worked him, his cock swelling even further, his precome salty at the back of your throat, and the faster you moved the harder he was to take. Eventually, even with the spray, it was too much and you choked, coughing and gagging enough that you had to pull back from him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. 

“Woah, you alright?” He asked, leaning forward and frowning at you, still a little breathless as he did. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you nodded, trying to keep yourself from coughing, massaging your throat as you did. “Sorry, I just…” 

“Don’t apologize, baby, goddamn,” he laughed once. “Not after doin’ all that for me…” 

You smiled a little sheepishly, feeling like you could breathe again. But the numb feeling at the back of your throat was gone. 

“I can do it again,” you said, sitting back on your heels. “I just… I got some throat spray and I just need to…” 

Joel’s eyebrows knitted together, frowning deeper this time. 

“Throat spray?”

You nodded. 

“It’s numbing?” You said, almost like it was a question. “I hadn’t really done this much before and I really wanted to do it like…” 

“Like what?” He asked and your eyes went wide. Shit. You hadn’t meant to say that part. “Like what, baby?” 

“Like the woman in one of the videos in your closet?” You said sheepishly, your heart pounding, everything else coming out in a rush. “I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t figure out what to get you for your birthday and Cassie suggested finding out what porn you liked and trying to recreate it so I might have looked through some of your things, I promise it was just to surprise you and give you what you wanted and…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off gently, tucking his cock back into his jeans. “Hey, it’s OK, c’mere.” He tugged you up on the bed beside him and you kept your eyes determinedly on your hands. “Think you can look at me?” 

You took a deep breath but listened, gnawing on your lower lip as you did. 

“There are those pretty eyes of yours,” he smiled a little, cupping your cheek. “Now, I ain’t sayin’ I don’t appreciate the thought - don’t think any woman’s ever done something like that for me - but honey, I don’t want to do something you don’t want to do. I really don’t want to do something that’s rough enough on your body that you gotta numb yourself to get through it.” 

You frowned. 

“But you go down on me…” 

“Yeah, because I like to,” he said. “Like seein’ what I can do to you but that doesn’t mean you have to do it back to me, not unless you want to. And if you do want to, you don’t need to do it so hard that you hurt yourself. It’s not good for me if it’s not good for you, too.” 

You took a deep, steadying breath, and nodded. 

“Besides,” he smiled a little. “Haven’t needed those videos in a while. Honestly, I kinda forgot I even still had ‘em.” 

You scoffed. 

“Hey, I’m being serious,” he said. “Haven’t used ‘em since you and I got together, that’s for damn sure. And for a few months before that I may or may not have had better luck thinkin’ about this sexy nanny I had working for me…” 

“Oh really?” You teased lightly, heat taking the place of the nerves in your stomach. 

“Really,” he said, almost unsettlingly earnest. “I’ve been yours for a while, baby. And that’s because I love you, don’t have a damn thing to do with what you do in bed.” 

You smiled softly and kissed him, his lips gentle on yours for a moment before it deepened, turning hot and needy. 

Joel tugged you back on the bed with him, one hand splaying wide over your back, the other slipping into the soft lace of your lingerie to cup your breast. But, before you got too distracted, you pulled back from him, making him frown a little. 

“But what if I want to,” you said, biting your lip again. 

His frown deepened. 

“Want to what?” 

“Suck your cock,” you said, trying to ignore how hot your cheeks got. 

“Fuck, baby,” he said, his eyes darkening. 

“Because I do want to,” you said. “I want to make you feel the way you make me feel.” 

“You sure?” He asked. “Because I know I can be… a lot to take.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Think I know how big your cock is, Joel. And I know what I want.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groaned, lying on his back, freeing his cock and stroking it as he did. “Gotta take it easy and let me help.” 

You nodded eagerly before settling near his hips, taking his length in your hand and stroking him up and down, running your thumb over his leaking tip. When you looked at him now, you weren’t intimidated. Instead, you were hungry for him, wanting to feel him deep inside you in a different way, your mouth watering with it. 

You lowered yourself over him, licking his head, your tongue wide and flat against him and Joel groaned, his fingers tightening in the blankets on the bed. You took a moment to really experience him, the taste of him, the heady concentration of the scent of him in the thatch of coarse hair at his base, the tender softness of his skin. It shouldn’t have been surprising but you wanted more, more of all of it. 

So you took more, his tip disappearing into your mouth slow and easy. 

“Fuck, there you go baby,” he was damn near panting with need and you smiled a little around his intrusion, at what you were doing to him. “Nice and slow.” 

You moaned as you sank lower, easing more and more of him into your mouth before rising up and then taking a little more of him, your tongue pressed tight to his shaft as you did again and again. 

And then he was at the back of your throat, no longer numbed, and you tried to do what Cassie had told you to do: Swallow him past your gag reflex to get all of him inside. 

It worked, at first, your lips making it almost to the base of his shaft as he groaned. But it didn’t last, your body quickly trying to reject the thick heft of him in your throat, making you gag. This time, though you didn’t try and force it, pulling back quickly but leaving his head in your mouth. 

“You OK?” He asked, his voice strained, one large hand coming to cradle the back of your head. You just nodded, his tip still in your mouth. “Here, gimme your hand.” 

You obeyed and Joel guided your fingers to the base of his shaft. 

“Just…” you could hear the desperation in his voice. “Hold on like that, don’t gotta take it all. Feel the most at the tip, anyway.” 

You nodded and worked your way lower again, a little faster this time, adjusting your grip so you were still taking most of him into your mouth but not quite hitting your gag reflex. Joel’s breaths grew sharper, more desperate and you could feel him straining to hold back from fucking up into you and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of power at that, the way you could make him almost lose himself to pleasure. 

You started to work him faster, your tongue pressing and curling around him, your mouth working in tandem with your hand. It wasn’t long before you found your rhythm over him, rising and falling, sucking and licking, savoring every inch of him you could take. And even though you were focused on making Joel feel good, it was making you tight and needy, too, the hand not around his cock finding your slit, fingers trailing through the wetness that had grown there. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Takin’ me so well, baby, doin’ so damn good.” 

You moaned, working him harder, faster as your fingers grew firmer on your clit and you suddenly, desperately, needed all of him in your mouth, gag reflex be damned. 

So you took all of him, moaning as his head slipped into your throat, sucking him hard and fast and you felt him twitch in your mouth before he all but ripped you away from him, leaving you stunned for a moment. 

But then he damn near jumped between your thighs, shoving your panties to the side and pushing into you. You gasped at the stretch of him, your pussy already tightening around him. Joel’s hips snapped into yours just as fast as you’d been sucking him before. 

“Ain’t gonna last,” he said, burying his face in your neck and kissing the delicate skin there. “Too fuckin’ good at that, Jesus…” 

You could only moan in response, your own orgasm building quickly, your fingers tugging at his shirt as you tried to pull him impossibly closer, your pussy drawing tight around him for a second before you fell apart. Your orgasm was so powerful you couldn’t move, crying out with the force of it as Joel fucked into you twice more before he came, too, pressing himself deep inside as he spilled into you.

Joel collapsed, spent, on top of you after, still fully clothed and panting for breath as you held him close. 

“Holy shit baby,” he said eventually, still a little breathless. 

You laughed quietly. 

“Did I measure up to the video?” You teased. 

He pulled back from you, looking you over for a moment, like he was trying to tell if you were joking or not. 

“Think you know the answer to that,” he said, kissing you gently as he slid himself from you and lay beside you. He tugged you against him as he settled, tucking your head against his chest. “But in case it wasn’t clear, yeah. You beat ever damn porno I ever watched, ain’t even close.” 

You smiled, proud. 

“Good,” you said. “Because… I liked doing that.” 

You felt him lift his head to look at you before dropping back down to the bed. 

“Really?” 

“Yup,” you said, tracing your fingers over the outline of his pecs through his shirt. “Think I’ll want to do it again.”

“Sure as hell won’t get any arguments from me.” 

“There is a downside, though,” you said, sitting up just enough to look at him. 

“What’s that?” He frowned and you smiled. 

“Now I’m going to have to figure out what the hell to get you for your birthday next year.” 

He laughed and tucked you back against his chest. 

“Just keep givin’ me you, baby,” he said. “Doesn’t get any better than that.” 

A/N: I missed Joel and Doc so I wrote this. Thanks for reading them even more than a year after Lavender ended.

Happy birthday, Joel!

Love you all!

[ladykailitha]

I think I have my Christmas/New Years fic for the year.

Rich business man Steve hires starving artist Eddie to do a five piece work for Dustin for Christmas. It's of the Party as their D&D characters fighting a purple dragon. The dragon in the middle with its wings spanning the other four pieces. Each piece with a different character.

Only he hires Eddie back in June because of how long the piece is going to take. Over the next six months they grow together as Eddie updates Steve on the pieces.

All the while Eddie is working on secret sixth piece. His Christmas present for Steve. It's of a paladin and a yellow dragon having tea in the yellow dragon's home in the desert.

But unbeknownst to Eddie Steve is setting it up so that on New Year's Eve, Eddie will be the honored artist at the local art museum where all his works will be put on display for the world to see.

AKA: Eddie falls first. Steve falls harder.

IT'S HERE!!!

[louisferrignojr]

honey, i don’t have much time (my parachute has come untied)

bucktommy • 9k words • E rated • aka "the spinoff fic" (aka the s8 canon divergence breakup/makeup angst with a happy ending!) thank you @kinardtk and @jess-bradford for beta reading! ♥

Tommy stays seated at the table long after the call has ended, gaze flitting between the little ‘how was your call’ feedback form in the middle of the laptop screen, and the notepad next to him where he’d been scribbling down notes — or he had intended to, but by the end of the call the page is mostly filled with geometric shapes he started doodling as he took it all in.

Washington, D.C. — that’s all the way across the country — that’s a five-hour flight, not to mention the time to-and-from airports and going through the security, and hanging around waiting to board. Yeah, ironically enough, Tommy doesn’t like to fly, but the drive would be even longer and so much more gruelling, with at least one stop to get some rest, driving is definitely out of the question. 

He’s getting ahead of himself, he thinks with a sigh and gets to his feet, closes the lip of the laptop and flips the notebook closed, placing it on top of the computer and leaving them at the centre of the table. He wanders over to the kitchen and opens a cupboard, starts going through the usual steps of making his morning coffee: grind the beans, set the pot to brew on the stovetop, warm up the milk. The routine is familiar and almost automatic, it doesn’t take up much space in his head, where there’s only one name bouncing around with the same energy as the man himself.

Evan.

Tommy checks the time on his wristwatch, it’s nearly 8 o’clock; Evan is due to finish his shift in another hour. He goes to fetch his phone and opens their conversation window, reads over the last few texts they’d sent each other; Evan telling him ‘Gotta go, got another call’ and Tommy replying ‘Be safe’ and then two more from Evan promising to make it back to him in one piece and telling him he loves him. 

Tommy’s heart squeezes in his chest. 

Why now?

It’s been six months since the rogue mission that brought Evan into his life, six months of the best relationship he’s ever been in and Tommy can say that without any exaggeration, because he’d sat down and thought about it not too long ago. 

[continue reading on ao3]

tags:

@lazyturtlehottub @teabroomsandbooks @bi-bi-buckleys @audrey2419

@bucktommyscones @loucifersbitch @theweewooshow @chimneyz @evansbuck-ley

[herofics]

No Longer Mine, part 2

A/N: Well, the first part of this fic, aka No Longer Mine, got very popular, at least compared to many of my other posts. I was planning on writing a second part anyway, but I also got a lot of comments asking for one so I’m happy to write this. I feel like I can’t get Nanami’s “voice” right, so the dialogue feels OOC, but I’m too tired to try to keep changing it. Hope you like this one too :D (Part 3 coming when I get around to it)

Some people asked to be tagged, so here’s that list: @labelt-san @username23345 @ourfinalisation

Word count: 1.9k

You didn’t know who else to call. You felt this horrible pit or dread growing in your stomach. Did you have anyone left? Were your friends from before your missing time even alive anymore? There was always a chance of dying suddenly because of the work you did. You didn’t have your phone and you didn’t remember anyone else’s number except for Gojo’s and maybe Nanami’s, you weren’t really sure. You decided to ask the nurse for a phone anyway and take your chances.

Nanami was in the middle of showering, so he couldn’t get to the phone when he heard it ring. No matter, he could just call whoever it was back. He had no idea that returning that phone call would turn his life upside down.

Six months had passed since your return, and a day hadn’t gone by that Gojo hadn’t thought of you. He felt guilty for not looking for you when you went missing, and on the other hand he felt guilty because all these thoughts were happening while he laid awake in bed, with his fiancée asleep next to him. He loved Ava, he really did, but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For the first time since you were found on that side street in Tokyo six months ago, you woke up feeling content. It had certainly been an adjustment period after you got out of the hospital. All the nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat or just straight up screaming in your sleep. For the first month after you got released from the hospital, you stayed at Nanami’s place with the intention of looking for a place of your own. He let you take the bed while he slept on the couch. He woke you up from countless nightmares and held you as you cried about something you couldn’t even remember.

You were angry a lot of the time. Angry at whoever had taken four years of your life, angry at yourself, and angry at Gojo. It was the main emotion in your life for months. No matter how much you screamed and cried, no matter how many pillows and coffee cups you obliterated, Nanami stood by you through all of it.

It was very much like you were going through the five stages of grief. Denial happened at the hospital when you first found out that four years of your life had been stolen. Anger was with you for the whole process, and no matter how much you bargained, begged the universe that you would do anything to just go back, it didn’t happen. Life just doesn’t work that way. You don’t get second chances and you don’t get to go back in time to change things. The depression part wasn’t easy either. Sometimes you would pretty much go for days at a time without even getting out of bed. Nanami was still there, he made sure you ate something every day. He made sure you would get through it.

You were there to welcome him home from every mission, even during your worst days, you made sure to say “hi” to him when he came back. You were there to patch him up if he needed it. At some point he started actually looking forward to coming home, it wasn’t just a house anymore, it was a home, because you were there. He never wanted to pressure you into anything, the relationship just happened.

At some point during those six months, you and Nanami had become close. You had been friends before, but this was something different. At some point he didn’t leave the bed anymore after calming you down when you had a nightmare, at some point you just let it happen, you didn’t want him to go. At some point, you too, moved on. Finally, after six months, you found yourself waking up feeling content.

“Good morning sleepyhead” you whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Morning” he muttered sleepily.

“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you sleep past nine in the morning” you chuckled.

“I forgot to set an alarm, it seems” Nanami sighed, turning to face you.

“Do you have any missions for today?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest with your finger tips.

"No, today is all for you" he said softly, as he placed his hand on yours on his chest.

“That’s good to hear” you smiled. “I was wondering if we could go to Shinjuku? I need to get some shopping done. I still owe you some coffee cups…”

“Sounds good” he said.

The two of you got out of bed and before you knew it, you had eaten breakfast and were on your way to Shinjuku. Ijichi was kind enough to drive you, and you agreed he’d come pick you up later in the day.

You’d gone into a few shops, but nothing had struck your fancy, so you hadn’t bought anything yet. You were just enjoying your time out with Nanami. That’s when you noticed a familiar, tall, white haired figure in the crowd.

“Kento?” you squeaked.

“Hmm?”

“I think Gojo is here” ever since that day at the hospital, you hadn’t been able to call him by his first name. Not that you really needed to anyway, you weren’t together, nor were you even in contact at all anymore.

You’d been doing your best to avoid him and it seemed he had done the same, and now you just happened to run into each other. It was like the universe was giving you a giant middle finger. You tried to move so Nanami was between you and Gojo, so he wouldn’t see you.

Gojo didn’t notice you at first, he just saw Nanami, but he of course wanted to say hello to his colleague. It was quite crowded, so Gojo didn’t see you until his hand was already almost on Nanami’s shoulder. When he saw you, he froze, his hand just hovering a few centimeters above his colleague’s shoulder, before he pulled it back.

“Oh, hey” Gojo muttered.

“Satoru, I almost lost you in the crowd, you walk too fast” Ava said, as she appeared from behind him.

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to say “hey” to Nanami and… (Last Name)”

Ava’s eyes widened as she realized who you were. She’d heard about you from Gojo, she’d seen your grave, you were supposed to be dead. That’s what she’d been told, that’s what her fiancé had told her, but here you were.

“Oh. Nice to meet you (Last Name). I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée” she said with a beaming smile, while hanging onto Gojo’s arm, offering her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too” you said, shaking her hand, trying your best to smile back at her, but it felt awkward.

That’s when Gojo noticed it. You were holding Nanami’s hand. He felt an ember of anger flame up in his chest for just a second, but that was enough for you, Nanami and Ava to notice the spike in his cursed energy fluctuation. However, you were the only one who noticed what he was looking at when it happened. He quickly quelled his anger, but it was already too late.

“Oh screw you” you muttered under your breath, before turning away and rushing off.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Nanami questioned with an angry tone. “They’ve gone through enough”

Nanami took off after you, leaving Gojo just standing there, confused, with an annoyed Ava still hanging onto his arm. As Ava tightened her grip on Gojo’s arm, he could already basically hear the argument that was going to happen as soon as he got home with her. It was his own fault really, he hadn’t told her about you being back. He wasn’t even sure why he had even done that. It’s not like he had feelings for you anymore, right? His body just reacted, a spike in cursed energy meant absolutely nothing.

It didn’t take Nanami long to find you. He knew your favorite sweets shop was nearby, and that’s where he found you. You were just wandering amongst the shelves, muttering something to yourself.

“Are you alright?” Nanami asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You placed a hand on top of his and just sighed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off. He just makes me so mad, especially when things like that happen”

“I know, beautiful, I know” Nanami sighed.

“You felt it too, right? How his cursed energy spiked when he saw us holding hands”

“Are you sure that was the reason? I know he’s immature and arrogant, but surely not to that extent” Nanami said.

“I told him he moved on like I was nothing, when he came to see me at the hospital. Now he must think I’m worse, because it’s only been six months since I came back and I’m already with you” you rambled.

“If he has a problem with us, he needs to come out and say it” Nanami stated sternly. “He’s not allowed to get angry about how you moved on and with who, he doesn’t have that right anymore”

“I know, but I still feel like shit about it” you sighed.

“How about we buy some of your favorite sweets and go back home?”

“Home huh… Sounds good to me” you smiled tiredly.

Even that little encounter with you had made Gojo feel like his head was going to explode. Now with Ava complaining at him, it was even worse.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were alive?!” she hissed loudly as she paced back and forth in front of him.

“How many times do I have to tell you: I don’t know!” Gojo groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sat on the couch.

“How do you not know something like that!? You consciously decided to lie to me about this, so how do you not know?!”

“I-I just don’t! Okay?! Could you stop fucking talking, your voice is giving me a damn migraine…” Gojo yelled, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Wow” Ava scoffed in disbelief. “You know what? You can go back to that bitch for all I care” she hissed venomously, before marching out of the room.

“Fuck” Gojo sighed, and laid down on the couch.

He could feel the migraine coming on and now he felt like shit about yelling at Ava too. Gojo didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, it’s not like he’d been seeing you behind her back. Hell, he hadn’t seen you a single time since that day at the hospital, so why did it matter? Why did you matter? Why did he still care? You had gotten so upset at him for moving on during the four years he thought you were dead, and now you had moved on with someone else in six months.

He just needed some sleep, right? He would just wake up from this nightmare the next morning and the past four and a half years would all turn out to have been a bad dream. You would be there next to him and he would never have to even think about you with someone else again. The thought made him feel guilty. He was with Ava, why was he still thinking about you? Why was he always thinking about you?

[tianasficrecs168]

WinterIron Fic Recs

NarutoRox: “It’s the Little Things in Life” (Bucky/Tony) • Though Barnes had been living in the tower for almost six months now, things between him and Tony were still a bit awkward. Which is why Tony is a tad confused when Barnes starts leaving him strange little gifts.

Tahlruil: “What Has Been Done” (Bucky/Tony) Bucky has lived with the Avengers for a while now, and he's mostly settled in. During the process, he fell for Tony Stark - hard - but he can't quite bring himself to admit it to the brilliant engineer. So he just does what he can to take care of and protect him, hoping that maybe the other man will fall just as hard for him... and be the one to take their relationship to the next level. In the meantime, he's noticed that there's one member of the team that Tony seems afraid of, and he is definitely not pleased by the notion. Once he finds out what Wanda did to cause that fear, she might wish she'd never left Hydra.

Withered: “Fresh out the freezer” (Bucky/Tony) • Listen; he’s not a total asshole. Tony figures that the guy whose brain has been scrambled since the forties might have some tender sensibilities and he tones down a lot out of respect for that. It’s sweet. But ultimately unnecessary when all Bucky’s been thinking about is bending Tony over the nearest table.

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Grown Ass Man” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony Stark looks self-conscious, and it takes Bucky a stupid amount of time to figure out that’s even what he’s seeing on the guy’s face, because he’s never seen it there before. “Sorry, shoulda knocked.” Which, yeah, he should have, but he was used to rolling into the workshop whenever he felt like it. He certainly hadn’t expected to find a shirtless Tony Stark in the process of doing something with the arc reactor. And sure, he’s staring, has been staring this whole time, right from the moment he’d walked in, because this is the first he’s actually seeing the arc reactor.

Potrix: “Paths Are Made by Walking” (Bucky/Tony) • The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best. Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

Potrix: “Flirting (with danger)” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony stares at the man shackled to the wall for a long, unblinking moment. “You’re supposed to be dead.” The man raises an unimpressed eyebrow back at him. “Right back at ya, pal.”

RayShippouUchiha: “The Great Awakening (To Hold Infinity)” (Bucky/Tony) • Constellations wheel around in Tony’s mind at night, illuminating his sleep with the beauty of a supernova, the terrible gaping hunger of black holes, the whimpering cry of a nebula as it births new stars into creation. All of Space laid out for him to marvel at. Tony learns and learns and learns and then he creeps downstairs and babbles relentlessly to his first and only friend. All the while the Cube hums, just a bit smug, just a bit loving, and shows him more.

Monyas: “Bad Scoping Mechanisms Series” (Bucky/Tony) (part of a series - there's 2 more fics here) Like, the general public hates Tony Stark for having been a weapons manufacturer but actually he was pretty popular while he was still in the weapons industry so one wonders, who would have been a fan of Stark Industries before Afghanistan? Military, alphabet agencies, private security, hitmen and assassins? …Hydra assassins? -In which the Winter Soldier, aka Bucky Barnes, is an avid fan of Tony Stark for reasons.-

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): “Sometimes Life Happens” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony hadn’t necessarily been looking for further proof of his maladjusted—one might even argue self-destructive—approach to problems, but sometimes life happened, and you didn’t have any choice but to take a long, hard look at yourself. Sometimes, you’re sitting in your car, staring into your recently emptied coffee cup, contemplating whether or not you really want to do this whole “leading a responsible life” thing anymore, and a guy with a gun slides into your passenger seat. Sometimes, that’s just the way your Monday goes.

Ceealaina: “He's Got a Secret” (Bucky/Tony) • Tony snorted. “Are you planning to rent out the Met? I mean, I’m not saying no, the look on his face would be hilarious. But otherwise, I think we can probably make whatever you want to do work with less lead time. We’ve got almost eight months, and I am very, very rich.” Bucky stopped rubbing Tony’s shoulder, ignoring his faint noise of protest. “Eight months?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” Tony frowned at him. “It’s November.” “Yeah.” “Steve’s birthday is in July.” “Steve’s birthday is when now?” Based on that tumblr post about Steve's birthday not ACTUALLY being July 4, and Steve being in too deep to tell the truth.

RiotFalling: “When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)” (Bucky/Tony) There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed.

RiotFalling: “Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)” (Bucky/Tony) • Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.  That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

RiotFalling: “Hey Tony” (Bucky/Tony) • Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

RiotFalling: “Show Tunes and Extra Sauce” (Bucky/Tony) • So maybe three years in Bucky is completely in love, and this might be his first bodyguard gig but he's pretty sure that's breaking Rule One. It's definitely one of the top five rules, at the very least. He can't even be surprised with himself either, not when it's Tony. Bucky’s job is basically to hang out with his crush all the time, and sure sometimes he gets shot or stabbed or has to physically drag Tony out of his lab when he starts sleep-deprived-rambling about building some piece of tech from a scifi movie, but most days Bucky doesn't have a single thing to complain about. And then there's Valentine's Day.

InTheShadows: “Nothing More Deceptive” (Bucky/Tony) • When Tony enters the kitchen he is focused on one thing and one thing only - coffee. What he isn't expecting is Barnes to already be in there. What he really isn't expecting is a sassy, verbal Barnes. The man hasn't said a word since he entered the Tower as far as Tony knows. And what he most certainly isn't expecting if for it to become a tradition of late night meetings, flirting and fun that seems to be headed for something more. Right? (What if it's all in Tony's head after all?)

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*image of Jensen Ackles is used with permission of the photographer Mandi Lea Photogtaphy.

Summary: After a significant career shift and subsequent break-up, Brandy Miller moves to Wayne County, Pennsylvania, to be closer to family. She invests in a small, sight-unseen condo in a “quiet, charming neighborhood with views of the Poconos and neighbors you can count on.” One particular neighbor seems to have a unique interpretation of what that means.

Characters: Brandy Miller x Soldier Boy, Serge Bernard, Kimiko Miyashiro (mentioned), Maggie Shaw, Annie January, Hughie Campbell, MM (mentioned), John James Davis (AKA Homelander but just as SB’s 21yo son), Butcher (mentioned)

Warnings/tags in this chapter: 18+ ONLY, sexual tension, sexual objectification, rough and degrading sex dream, alcohol, Soldier Boy is a terrible father, explicit sexual content

Words in this chapter: 3,500

Author’s notes: Soldier Boy will be referred to by many names in this fic. The full name I’ve given him is Benjamin James Davis III.

Thank you to @brrose-apothecary @stusbunker and @talltalesandbedtimestories for pre-reads and green lights!

This fills my #Inconsiderate Neighbor square for @jacklesversebingo

CHAPTER ONE

The last five years have been wild. A global pandemic impacted our life choices and decisions more than any other event in the previous 50 years. Career shifts, resettling in vastly different communities, honest declarations of who we are as people and who we love — these things I’ve witnessed first-hand.

I was an executive for a nationally renowned advertising agency. My partner of six years was a successful stock trader. About three weeks into our second lockdown, I realized I couldn’t stand the guy. I went through every reason why I’d have stayed for so long if he was so horrible. I wondered if he hated me too. Then one day, he told me.

“Brandy, I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t hate me; he just didn’t love me. He wasn’t horrible; he just wasn’t for me. 

Working remotely gave me a similarly renewed perspective on my career choice. I worked 12 hours a day from my home office overlooking Central Park, drank a bottle of wine to go to sleep, then got up the next morning to do it all over again. Meanwhile, everyone in America was tightening their purse strings on ad spend.

Now, I’m in the Honesdale borough of Wayne County, Pennsylvania, working as a freelance document review specialist. I’m single, own my two-bedroom condo outright, and spend Sundays with my sister Amber and her two teenagers over in Damascus. 

These changes introduced me to a set of concepts that I had previously denied. I thought I was happy, successful, content. 

But I’m told that a constant desire for more hinders contentment. Comparison is the thief of joy, as they say. A sense of entitlement will always bite you in the ass. A lack of gratitude prevents you from appreciating what you already have and fosters a need for something beyond.

As it happens, I have a prospective client meeting in Scranton this afternoon, and my brand-new Jeep won’t start. I guess they don’t make them like they used to. 

“Brandy, mon amie, where are you?” my friend Serge answers my call with worry in his voice.

“My truck won’t start,” I whine.

Last month, I complained to Serge and his partner-in-all-things Kimiko that government work was beginning to bore me. I like new things, which is a bummer, considering desire hinders contentment. Kimiko offered to introduce me to her brother, who works with one of the largest healthcare companies in the country. 

“Oh, cher...” Serge laments in sympathy.

“I know, I know. And this fucking podunk town’s got like two cabs and one Lyft serving the entire county.”

I roll my neck and eyes in frustration, and in my periphery, I glimpse a man inside a single garage stall working on a motorcycle. I’ve never seen him before, but judging by the military-themed tattoos, evident dexterity with the tools he’s wielding, and his proportions, he’s the ‘asshole military contractor’ my next-door neighbor, Maggie, told me about when I moved in. 

Serge frets in Frenglish on the other end of the line before returning to the point. “On se’n occupe. We will handle it.”

I watch my newly discovered neighbor deftly flex and twist and wonder if he’s as adept with other motor vehicles. “Please tell Kimiko I’m sorry and understand if this opportunity’s off the table now.”

My words are meant for Serge, but the man not 10 yards away sends me a subtle, knowing look. There’s an enduring facet of competence and perception in every flick of his eyes and wrist, every shrug of his thick, broad shoulders, and the taunting slant of his jaw. He knows I’m watching him and knows I’m in a bind. 

He pities me.

I tell Serge that I’ll let him know how things go with the car before ending the call then tentatively head toward my neighbor’s garage stall.

“Hey there, I’m Brandy.” I thumb over my shoulder, indicating the general area of my condo. “Are you BJ?”

He smirks at his greasy wrench before answering, “BJ, Soldier Boy, Captain,” then pauses as he drags his eyes from his task to pin me in place. “Take your pick, sweetheart.”

He looks me down and up, slow and heavy, licking his lips. His demeanor would be comical at best and frightening at worst if I weren’t so stunned by the sheer audacity. As he unfolds from a squat, his muscles shift and grind under his sweat-slicked skin. He wipes his filthy hands on a filthier rag and saunters toward me. I have never in my life been so blatantly objectified right to my face.

“Need a ride?” he asks, meeting my eyes again. The rounded toes of his grungy work boots tap the points of my Jimmy Choos.

“I-” I attempt to speak but don’t know what to say. I should be outraged. I should tell him he can’t just look at people like that. He can’t just invade my space.

He tilts his head, and his eyes drop to my chest. “You're all flushed, Brandy. Feeling okay?” He drops his rag to the concrete before ghosting a finger along my collarbone.

Air returns to my lungs and the flush in my chest rises up my throat to my face. I smack his hand away and take a step back. “What the fuck?! Do you always harass and assault women half your size, or is it just me?”

Centuries of gaslighting threaten to drown me from one single look. And then he speaks. “My bad. Didn’t know you were a prude.”

He raises his hands in feigned surrender before returning to his bike.

“I’m a prude because I don’t like being evaluated like a pig going to slaughter?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Listen—no harm, no foul, alright? I thought you were game; you’re not, no big deal.”

“Man, I came over here as a neighbor to introduce myself. You clearly heard part of my call and know my car isn’t starting. I thought, since you’re in here working on a motorcycle, you might also know something about cars.”

He nods. “Got it. Is that where we’re at right now? You want me to take a look at your car?”

“Jesus- what?! Are you for real?”

“No? Okay, then.” He turns his back, and I stare at him for a moment.

Thoughts swirl through my mind. Where is your spine, Brandy? Show him what you’re made of. This isn’t over until you say it is.

A slave to my guts and ego, I’m determined to re-engage. “Yes.” 

He slowly faces me again, eyebrows raised and head tilted in question. “Yes?”

“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you’d take a look at my Jeep.”

His expression shifts—softens, some might say, but his eyes remain hard and cold. “‘Course. What kinda neighbor would I be if I didn’t?”

He strides toward my two-car stall across from his, and I follow with no other excuse than my competitive spirit and morbid fascination with opposition. 

“You pay extra for two stalls?” he asks, glancing at the gym area I’ve set up beside my Jeep before rounding its hood.

From what I’ve gathered in this brief and bracing interaction, Captain BJ Benjamin Soldier Boy isn’t a small-talk kind of person, but I’m not sure yet why he’s asking a simple question like that. I decide to answer as simply.

“Yeah.”

He nods and gestures to the driver’s seat. “Pop the hood.”

I watch through my windshield and the slant of space between the hood and my dash as he quickly pokes and prods at things I know nothing about. Less than two minutes later, he drops the hood shut and walks around to the open driver’s side door.  

“Try it now.” He’s rubbing his hands together and his brow is slightly furrowed like he wishes he hadn’t tossed that rag aside in his garage.

I turn the key in the ignition, and it starts with no issue. 

My morning started with limited knowledge of this man and the inner workings of my Jeep. I had a single goal in mind to expand my client portfolio. I did not grow my business, I have not learned anything new about my vehicle, and my introduction to my neighbor has provided me with very little satisfaction. 

“Coupla loose terminals. It happens with new cars. Gotta break ‘em in.”

I flick my eyes to meet his. He holds my gaze, licks his bottom lip back between his teeth, then backs away before strolling away. 

+

“He’s the fucking poster boy for misogyny.”

Maggie nods as she tops off my glass of wine. “Yeah, calling him an asshole is an insult to assholes, honestly.”

“I felt like I was transported back to the 1950s or something. He’s a caricature of misogyny.”

“The embodiment,” Maggie replies, settling back into her sofa and sipping her wine.

“Does he think that works on women? Like, are there women in his sphere who respond favorably to his behavior? He can’t be rewarded by it. Maybe he’s conducting a social experiment.”

Maggie laughs. “You’re giving him way too much credit.”

“Then why?”

Maggie stares at me for a beat. “The question is, why do you care?”

I’ve thought of nothing else since he left me in my garage yesterday morning. I felt defeated by him. Used, somehow. Inconsequential in the end.

“I hate how he made me feel.”

Maggie remains silent and intent. She’s a great listener, and she never judges.

“I had a dream about him last night.”

She nods. “And how did that make you feel?”

I shake my head and draw a deep breath. It made me feel hot and wild. I was angry and hungry for him. Or for redemption, revenge, or victory. 

“It makes no sense. We interacted for like 10 minutes and I haven’t seen him since. That’s why I care. I can’t get him out of my head. I keep thinking of what I should’ve said or done instead of standing there like a deer in headlights.”

“Don’t let your pride rule you with him. He has no morals, no decency. You won’t win.” 

“You think I’m trying to win something.” 

She’s right. Maggie and I are a lot alike, but she’s smarter and more cautious than I am. Somewhere along the line, she learned a lesson I have yet to let sink in. She learned to resist a challenge and walk away. 

“Aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Maggie suggests. “Did you get that meeting rescheduled, or is it dead?”

I fill her in on my chat with Kimiko. Kimiko’s brother Kenji was gracious enough to reschedule for next week, and I decided it best to go up the night before and spend the night with her and Serge in case I have any other car problems. 

Maggie opens a second bottle of wine and we proceed with our binge of Dead To Me on Netflix. 

+

I’m face down on my weight bench, straddling the padded seat with his fist in my hair and his cock hammering me from behind. He’s saying things to me, violent, hateful words, calling me names.

My wrists are bound, I’m blindfolded, and I am so wet. So wet from his rough hands, the way he slaps my ass and hips and pulls my hair. His voice is deep and rich, and it dominates the atmosphere and my mind. 

He’s had me so many times already, and he wants more. He wants to devour me. He can’t get enough of me.

And I never want him to stop. He treats me like a whore, tells me I’m his whore, and I can’t stop soaking his cock and slicking up the bench. 

“You fucking love my cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck me.”

I wake up in a sweat after a third night dreaming of him. I feel fractured and unlike myself. I’ve never wanted the kinds of things I’m dreaming about him. I’ve never wanted a man to degrade me or tie me up. 

And this man is a pig of a man. 

But I can’t get him out of my head.

I’m aching and breathless. My sheets are soaked from sweat and my pussy. I reach into my nightstand for my vibrator to soothe the twitching between my legs and rid him from my mind. I think about all the things that usually get me off, but he just keeps coming back around with big, rough hands and dirty words, and teeth that score my tender flesh.

I come silently, arching into my mattress, imagining his hands around my wrists and his cock driving into me hard.

+

When I told the newlyweds who live across the hall from my nemesis that I’d never been to our neighborhood bar, they invited me to join them for burgers and beers. 

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but Butcher’s is an institution. I literally grew up in this bar,” Annie tells me as her husband Hughie distributes sticky menus and napkin roll-ups. 

“I’ll get a pitcher,” Hughie says and heads to the bar.

“I like it. Thanks for bringing me.”

I glance around the space, taking in old pictures and carved sentiments in the wooden beams. It still smells faintly of cigarette smoke after decades of No Smoking laws have been enforced. It reminds me of my favorite New York dive bar.

“Well, I’m glad. I’m sure it can’t be easy to transplant to a place like Honesdale where everybody knows everybody.”

“You know, it hasn’t been too bad. Between you two and Maggie, I’m meeting all the neighbors and learning the ropes like a real local.”

I don’t mention the man who’s rapidly infiltrated every dark corner of my brain since we’re having such a nice time. I don’t want to spoil it, but you don’t always get what you want.

“Ugh, BJ,” Annie gripes, reaching for a menu even though she surely has it memorized. “He is so gross.”

I hazard a glance in the direction of her glare to see the bane of my existence waltzing toward the bar. 

“He better not fuck with Hughie,” Annie says, narrowing her eyes as he brushes shoulders with her groom. 

Hughie gracefully ignores the man’s obvious intention to needle him, gathers three chilled pint glasses and our pitcher, and rounds the crowd away from Captain Creep to return to the table.

“Who’s the kid?” I ask, finally noticing a quiet young man with BJ at the bar.

“That’s his son John. That kid’s been through the wringer with BJ and his mom. I don’t know why he still comes around; he clearly cannot stand the man any more than us.”

John’s smaller than his dad. He’s almost delicate-looking with a thick swath of blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He doesn’t have the swagger of the man next to him, and he seems to wish he were anywhere but here.

“MM, my man, it’s my boy’s 21st birthday! Get him a whiskey and a round for the house on me.”

“Hey.” Hughie settles the pint glasses on the table before filling each one, serving Annie and me first, then sitting down to pour his own. “John’s 21st. This oughtta be an interesting night.”

Annie tells me stories about babysitting John when he was a kid. He was sweet and gentle, quiet but curious, and his dad taunted him for it.

“He called his 6-year-old son a pussy.” She shakes her head. “Who does that?”

John slides into a barstool and idly sips his whiskey. A few of the older patrons wish him Happy Birthday, and MM makes a point to keep his water glass and popcorn bowl full while John’s dad struts around, flirting with every woman and slapping the backs of every man. 

It’s odd to see people react to him positively. Men, no matter their age, appear to admire him, and every woman he smiles at blushes and giggles. 

“They don’t know him like we do,” Hughie says. “Should we order? Butcher’s in the back tonight.”

I decide on the ”Terror,” a half-pound beef burger with taleggio, prosciutto, and peperoncini, medium-well. Annie recommends the cheesy house fries with special sauce as a shared dish, and within 20 minutes, we have our food and a second pitcher.

A soft buzz from light American beer warms and loosens me up. In this state, I’m less critical of my thoughts about the man who’s starred in my most desperate and debased dreams this past week. 

He looks good. He’s agile and powerful, which is a spectacular combination. People laugh at his jokes. They gravitate toward him. They think he’s charming and handsome, and from the background of Annie’s stories, I learn that he’s a war hero. 

It’s nice to feel something other than the overwhelming angst and shame I’ve felt all week. He affects people; it’s okay. I’m not an outlier. I just have to ride this out.

We finish our food, and I excuse myself to the restroom. There’s a vanilla candle burning on a table beside a well-loved armchair, a basket with single-size toiletries, pads and tampons, condoms, hand soap, and lotion. Definite homey vibe.

As I step through the door into the hallway, I’m jolted from my chill by a deep voice.

“Look at you all caszh and relaxed.” 

He’s propped between the men’s and women’s, so close I brush his arm when I whirl around to connect the voice with a face.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Hmm.” He pushes off the wall and turns into me, backing me against the closed door.

“There’s that flush,” he murmurs. He does that thing with his finger again that made me smack his hand away earlier this week. This time, I let him.

“Is it because I scared you,” he pauses and catches my eye. “Or something else?”

I close my eyes and let my head fall back to the door, feeling the heat and buzz of a potentially malicious yet certainly pleasurable outcome. He slides a knee between my thighs and skims a heavy hand over my hip, nuzzling against my throat with a low chuckle.

My breath catches in my chest under the hand he has pressed there, holding me in place, keeping me where he wants me. Ire swirls and rises from my gut, and I grip his t-shirt in my fists to yank him into the restroom.

“There she is.” He stumbles backward with a grin as I throw the lock.

“Shut up.” I push him to sit in the chair before climbing astride him and diving in.

His lips are plush and demanding, his beard is soft, and his mouth is superheated and whiskey-wet. He’s hard and hot everywhere I touch as I tug at the button and zipper of his jeans. His hands roam over denim and my cotton t-shirt. He nips at my lips and toys with the button of my jeans.

“Fuck,” I growl, pushing out of his lap to get my pants down.

Before I know it, he’s spun me around, and he’s shimmying my jeans and underwear over my hips and down my thighs. He slumps into the chair and fits a condom over his length, then juts his hips forward to give me a place to rest. One long arm wraps my middle, and he slips two fingers over my wet slit. The wide pads of his fingertips swirl around my clit, and I brace my hands on the arms of the chair. Then he’s teasing me with his hard cock, rutting underneath, making me squirm. 

When he finally pushes inside, I shout and groan from the stretch and insane rhythm he’s keeping on my clit. I go off—ride him, pumping my thighs and elbows, using his arm around my middle for leverage. 

In less than a minute, I’m coming. One second later, he’s on his feet with me on my knees in the chair. He forces me to bend and hold onto the back, grips my bare hips, and pushes inside me again. He’s muttering, grunting, and, god, he’s hitting that spot with every thrust. 

“Come on, Brandy,” he gasps. “Lemme feel that tight little cunt come again. Make me come.”

I reach down between my legs and press over my mound, relishing his measured thrusts. I’m booze and fuck drunk, and my ears are ringing. His hands tighten on my hips, and we both come, swearing and howling.

Chapter Two coming soon...

What did you think? Reblog to share if you liked it! And let me know your thoughts. xox

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[alittlebitofloveliness]

The Outsiders Prompt Fic #12- I didn't know where else to go

This is for @ramennoodlezzzao3 who requested prompt eight with Ponyboy. Sorry for the wait, I hope you like this. I wrote it sleep deprived after work and it's unedited so I apologiz wfor any typos.

****************

Tap. Tap. Tap.

When Curly first hears the tapping on the window he thinks it’s his beloved Princess Chunko, aka the raccoon he’s been feeding and attempting to train for the past six months ever since Tim told him off for feeding her- the poor thing was a single mom who worked two jobs and Curly wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t about to let his girl down, ok?- and Angela said you couldn’t teach a raccoon tricks because ‘they aren’t like dogs, dumbass’. Shows what she knows. Curly’s managed to almost get Princess Chunko to shake his hand on command (she’ll do just about anything for leftover fries from McDonald’s), and she’s only bit him like, three times. 

However, when he pulls back the curtain (thank god Angel’s sleeping at her new boyfriend’s place tonight because she would be beyond pissed to get woken at one in the morning) it’s not his beloved furry princess he sees, instead it’s his beautiful, very human and also male princess. 

Right. He’s gotta be cool about this. Smart. Suave. Pony’s never come here so late at night before. Curly isn’t exactly at his best right now- he’d been planning to shower in the morning so he still smells like the desperation of high school and whatever boozy concoction Ma had thrown at him earlier- but he isn’t gonna like, turn Ponyboy down if he’s come here for a hookup. He’s not that stupid.

Except when he throws open the window he catches sight of the pure misery on Ponyboy’s face and all impure thoughts fly out of his head. (Ok, maybe not all of them- he’s a simple man and Ponyboy is Ponyboy and he’s also right there-  but  Curly is again not heartless so like 98% of the impure thoughts are banished. Maybe 97%.)

“Hey Ponyboy!”

Pony runs a hand through his hair. He sighs, and the sound is so tired it could give Tim a run for his money.

“Hey Curly, can I-” his eyes get shiny but he blinks hard and they’re normal again, “can I come in?”

Curly doesn’t bother answering, just grabs his best-friend-maybe-boyfriend-but we-haven’t-had-that-talk-yet-but-also-kiss-and-stuff under the arms and half drags, half lifts him through the window. Curly thanks his unlucky stars that Angel’s mattress is under the window because this was not an elegant maneuver, and Pony landed right on top of him. Like, right on top of him. Curly isn’t exactly complaining because this close he can see the freckle near Pony’s hairline and smell his toothpaste and whatever shampoo he uses, but Pony also completely knocked the wind out of him, and Curly’s is also a fifteen year old boy and attracted to Ponyboy so if Pony doesn’t move soon a different problem is going to make itself known and Curly cannot let that happen or he’ll have to jump off a bridge.

He shoves Pony off of him as gently as he can without being soft, and leads him over to his own side of the room. Angel will already be pissed enough that he was on her side of the room, nevermind the fact it was just to open the window, and Curly doesn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Sure, he loves making Angela angry but she also took a razorblade to his favourite hoodie last week and Curly isn’t willing to risk her ire right now. Things with the boyfriend she’s currently staying with are slowly but surely falling apart and Angela going through a breakup is a dangerous creature. Even Tim steers clear of her as best he can during her anger phase, and then they both decide to be a little nicer when Angel moves on to grief. 

Pony sits next to him and Curly wonders if he should’ve put a bottom sheet on his mattress, then banishes the thought because it’s stupid and because he doubts there’s a bottom sheet anywhere in the house- angel bought her own and guards it viciously. Still, he can’t help the anxiety bubbling in his chest. Pony is in his room, sitting on his bed. In all the time they’ve been hanging out he doesn’t think Pony has ever been in his room. And they’ve certainly never been alone in his room- or in Ponyboy’s for that matter since Sodapop Curtis is the world's most annoying cockblock and one of these days Curly is really gonna slug him.

Fortunately- or unfortunately, he really isn’t sure- Pony seems oblivious to Curly’s internal turmoil. In fact, he seems kind of oblivious to everything, staring blankly at the wall and biting his lip hard enough it might start to bleed soon. 

Rude, Curly thinks, if someone’s gonna be biting ponyboy’s lips tonight it should be him.

It’s kind of worrisome though. It;s not like Ponyboy’s the more, well, present even on a good day, prone to daydreaming and getting all focused in a way Curly doesn’t understand, but this seems different, worse somehow. The misery is still written across Ponyboy’s face, but there's an undercurrent of anger there too, and beneath that, fear.

“You good, man?” Curly’s never been great with emotions, never understood his own or wanted to help with others. He wants to help Pony now though, he just doesn’t know what to say. “You uh, you need anything?”

“No- yes- I dunno.” Ponyboy shakes his head, curling in on himself, and no, nope, if he bunches up it’s like he gets even more stuck in his own head and Curly refuses to let that happen so he yanks him until Pony’s head is resting against his shoulder, his arm around the guy’s admittedly very nice shoulders. “I didn’t know where else to go, I just- I couldn’t stay there. Not tonight. Can I stay with you?”

“Of course,” Curly agrees immediately. There’s a whole host of reasons why and he’s sure some of them are good but the only important one is the thought of Ponyboy Curtis sleeping in his room with him, “why though? Didya finally get tired of Sodacan cockblockin’ us?”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, expecting Ponyboy to roll his eyes but snicker like he usually does when Curly makes a suggestive joke, but instead he just sighs, his eyes getting all sad again.

“In your dreams Shepard,” he says, “but nah, it’s nothing like that, just…Darry and Soda are fighting.”

Curly blinks. That’s what Ponyboy is upset about? His family fighting? If Curly got sad anytime people were fighting in his house he’d have died of heartbreak years ago. Shit, Ma hadn’t gone a day without swearing at them in years, and Tim had told him just this morning he was a waste of space. Last month, he and Angel hadn’t spoken for over a week after she tattled on him to Tim about his plan to get into Buck’s race fixing scheme. 

Then again, the Curtis family- even their gang- wasn’t much like his own. They weren’t soft exactly, but they weren’t cold neither, which was something Curly had got used to at a very young age. Ponyboy on the other hand…well, he doesn’t have much ice in him at all.

“They’ve been mad at each other for days, and tonight it’s like they just blew up,” Pony continues, “like a match in a powder keg. They’ve been yelling off and on for hours, and everytime they start to shout it gets worse. They hardly even noticed when I left.”

“Darry won’t be pleased you ran off,” curly points out. He’s not good at emotions but he is good at being practical, at least when he’s trying to think like Angela, and he knows Darry Curtis will be mad if Ponyboy comes home late or not at all. Curly thinks the guy needs to lighten up a bit. One murder wrap when Pony didn;t even kill the guy shouldn’t mean he needs to be supervised 24/7. Darry needs to lighten up.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes.

“Shit man, you sound like Two-bit. I left a note alright? And if they’re really that worried they can get over themselves and come and find me.”

“What are they arguin’ about anyway?”

That was apparently the wrong question to ask because Pony’s face shutters again.

“That’s the whole problem! I dunno! I can’t figure it out and I listened to them argue awhile. It got real personal real quick, whatever they started arguin’ about probably isn’t why they’re mad now.”

“I’m sorry man,” Curly says, and he is. Rarely is it that he feels any sort of sympathy for other people’s issues, but Ponyboy curtis is not just anyone. In fact, he’s maybe the best person Curly knows, and he doesn’t deserve his house to feel like Curly’s does. The Curtis’ are supposed to be better than that. Ponyboy is supposed to have better than that.

Curly knows there isn’t much he can do. There never is, and with his penchant for fucking shit up he’s rarely trusted with even meaningless things let alone important ones, so he’s not usually armed with the skills to help anyone. However, in this situation, Curly knows what to do because it’s something he wished for every day or his childhood, and something that was never really provided to him no matter how hard Tim sometimes tried. 

Tonight, he can keep Pony safe.

“You can stay here,” he promises, scrubbing a hand through Ponyboy’s hair as an excuse to feel how soft it is without grease in it, “whenever you want. Just show up.”

“Really?”

“‘Course.”

That earns him a smile, a real one, the kind that makes Ponyboy sort of glow and Curly kind of want to kiss him and combust and jump out a window all at the same time.

“Thanks.” Pony murmurs, and Curly feels himself grin when Pony settles his head back on his shoulder, exhaustion returning.

Curly lets himself grin as he maneuvers them so that they’re squished together on his lumpy single mattress. It’s not the most comfortable position- Ponyboy is half on top of him and not in a fun way, his bony elbow jammed into Curly’s ribs, and his hair tickling his nose, but Curly wouldn't change it for the world.

Ponyboy is already gone when he wakes up the next morning, but that’s alright, Curly expected it, just like he expected the call that came when he was making breakfast and the light that has returned to Pony’s eyes when he sees him at school.

The Curtis house isn’t supposed to be like his own, and it isn’t. Ponyboy wouldn’t ever look this relaxed if it was. 

Even still, Curly reasons, it can’t hurt to keep his window unlatched. Just in case. 

[aziraphales-library]

Hi!

Such amazing work the lot of you are doing. I'm both impressed and very, very grateful. <3

I'm looking for fics exploring what could happen next in the story. The fic Factory Settings absolutely blew me away. It's so faithful to both style and canon (well, almost), the characters really seem like themselves, and it's heavily plot driven while at the same time keeping their relationship at the centre.

Do you have any recommendations for fics like Factory Settings, that explore a possible season 3 storyline for me to indulge in until we get the real s3?

Hello! We have a #good omens s3 speculation tag, so check that out for loads of recs. Here are more to add...

When a Ripple Becomes a Tidal Wave, the Reason is to Blame by DiscombobulatedBard (T)

Six months after Aziraphale leaves Crowley for Heaven, he finds a way to secretly speak with him. The supreme Archangel has changed his mind; heaven and hell cannot be fixed, cannot be changed. Instead they must be rendered obsolete. There’s only one weapon in the cosmos with the power to destroy the Book of Life and the power it holds over all supernatural beings: the flaming sword of Eden. But Aziraphale’s sword has been… relocated. In order to find it, Crowley must journey to the darkest layers of Hell where horrors and temptations alike await him. He will get home. He will return to Aziraphale no matter what it takes… right?

the right thing to guide us by NotAWriter6 (G)

Aziraphale returns to Earth after several years to enlist Crowley's help to undo Heaven and Hell. Crowley, who is holding on to a lot of anger, reluctantly agrees to aid him one last time.

But You Are An Ocean by megzseattle (T)

After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.

Grand Theft Angel by doraminatook (E)

“Here’s the thing, Muriel," Crowley barked, "Do you know how many times over the past however-many eons, I have dropped everything that I was doing - even if it was more important or far more interesting - so that I could go save Aziraphale? Do you know how many times I went out of my way to help him? And what did he do? He just left. Because he got a better offer. Why should I risk my neck and help him out when he clearly wouldn’t do the same for me!?" “Because you love him.” Muriel said it so nonchalantly, as if it was so obvious…because it was. : Deep in the vaults of Heaven is the Penal Institution for Ungodly Behavior (AKA Heaven's prison system). Following Aziraphale's attempts to undermine The Second Coming, he has been stripped of the Supreme Archangel title and left to rot there for all eternity. That is unless Crowley and Muriel's plan to rescue him succeeds. It's a dangerous plan (bordering on idiotic, complete with a mysterious package, a science experiment gone wrong, and a little demonic possession), but if it means bringing his angel home, then Crowley is willing to burn all of Heaven to ashes.

Good Omens - Corner Office with a View (Broke My Wings so You Could Fly) by Noli_Timere031754 (M)

A year after season two, Aziraphale is trapped in Heaven. He sees Crowley living on Earth, all alone and in trouble. With help, he manages to act accordingly. Crowley’s heartbreak leads to him to being a damsel in distress. Excerpt: Aziraphale recalled what he’d seen out his office window. With it’s close and clear view of London, Earth. He hadn’t meant to zoom in, where he did. The scene had appeared against his will. A certain demon. All alone and buying several cases of the worst scotch he’d ever tasted. Oodles of it. Something he drank when he didn’t care about quality, only getting drunk as fast as possible. Crowley looked bad. Aziraphale didn’t think he’d ever seen him with a hair out of place, and certainly never in dirty clothes and flip flops. But there he was. The only familiar part of his attire had been his sunglasses.

Three Is Not Enough by haleinedelail (T)

Ten months after the Metatron blew up their lives at the end of season 2, Heaven has placed a temptation in Crowley’s path. It's a trap, of course, and Crowley knows it, but not the kind of trap that he thinks. And, bless him, he can't resist walking straight into it. Literally physically injured, Crowley must jump headlong into saving... something. But he'll have to make a terrible choice. The story has a healthy dollop of Crowley working through his (ahem) personal demons, and grief. It has some romance, but also some harsh truths for Aziraphale, several jaunts back in time (though, not too far back!), and some exposed fuckery on the part of Heaven (the good guys, right?). I promise a happy ending, but it might be a rough road getting there... but would we have it any other way?

- Mod D

[actual-changeling]

happy endings? boring. more like "hey you completely destroyed my trust in you and there is a part of it that will never ever return but this is as good as it will get and we're content" happy endings. aka my abandonment issues wrote a fic

—

It's not like he had a timeline in mind when they moved to the South Downs together. 

To be honest, he hadn't given it much thought at all, caught up in the adrenaline rush of finally securing the no-longer-fragile, peaceful existence he had been working towards for centuries. They settled into a comfortable routine, their recent past not being left untouched but rather unravelled incredibly slowly, bit by bit, and within a few months, the suffocating weight at the bottom of his lungs began to lift.

Crowley could breathe again, and that alone was exhilarating enough to delay that particular train of thought for another couple of weeks. After that, it crept up on him like a warm winter, rain seeping into the ground and freezing it up, so gradually he only noticed it once it reached the surface.

Fear.

No longer jagged shards of broken glass cutting into his palms, but soft, pliable, fitted to the curve of his mouth and the space between his fingers. A gentle squeeze around his heart whenever Aziraphale went out on his own, whenever he was out of Crowley's sight for more than an hour, when the silence grew heavier as the shadows expanded and even damp soil and fresh sprouts could not distract him any longer.

He won't come back this time, a soothing voice in the back of his mind would remark.

I'm sorry.

The same voice that had carried him through years of soul-crushing loneliness picked up all the pieces he dropped along the way, glueing them back into place. He trusts that voice more than he trusts Aziraphale Crowley realised when he was once again pacing the living room, waiting for him to come back.

(Ten large steps from the window to the doorway. Seven between the other two walls. He only starts getting dizzy after twenty minutes, which is when he switches to the bordering hallway; twelve steps to cover the entire span. The kitchen after that—six long steps.)

That is when he began an entirely different kind of waiting.

Continuing to exist without Aziraphale around became easier, and within a handful of months, he could keep reworking the flower beds or take a nap without being seized by inescapable dread.

That primal, familiar fear remained.

Fear that one day Aziraphale will walk out the front door and not come back. Fear that he will look at Crowley with subtle disdain in his eyes again, the word 'demon' hidden away underneath his tongue. Fear that he will ask him for something he refuses to give up and walk away the second he hears his answer.

Fear, soft but constant, permafrost covering their garden, crunching with every step.

Crowley considers simply asking Aziraphale if he is going to leave him again, but it seems too dangerous, asking. Questions have never brought him particularly nice results, after all, and there is the very same fear throwing its shadow over it. Asking might upset him, might cause him to leave, so he doesn't.

Time passes, Aziraphale stays, and they are as happy as they could possibly be, living and loving to their hearts' content, yet he never stops waiting.

Around the time they reach the tenth year of having moved to the South Downs, Crowley watches him button up his coat from the sofa, the television running quietly in the background. Grocery shopping, as Aziraphale said—one of the things he insisted on doing the human way. 

"Back in an hour," he promises, coming over to press a goodbye kiss to his temple.

His lips are warm, barely lingering as he straightens again.

"Mhh, see ya' angel."

When Aziraphale pulls the door shut behind himself, Crowley exhales sharply, picking up a pillow to press against his chest as he keeps watching. The pressure quiets the voice humming in his mind, and he won't keep his gaze trained to the clock or walk paths he knows with his eyes shut until he hears the front door opening again, but even now— 

even now, he is still afraid.

A layer of white on the grass that has not receded a single millimetre in all this time, and he has grown used to it, would miss it if it were to suddenly thaw.

Crowley knows the frost won't melt, and his fear won't fade.

He doubts it ever will, and when he watches Aziraphale place his shoes by the front door, his coat on the closest hook, he realises he no longer wants it to.

Maybe one day he will need it to hold himself together again.

[from-a-legends-pov]

From a Legends (Legend’s) Point of View 2024

Background

From a Legends Point of View (or From a Legend’s Point of View, see what we did there?) is a Star Wars fandom fic event dedicated to celebrating the characters and stories of the Star Wars Legends continuity during and around the time of the Original Trilogy (OT).

Building from the talents of the many writers in the Star Wars fandom, we hope to develop and share a diverse collection of approximately 40 stories of pilots, smugglers, spies, scoundrels, and other characters from the original Star Wars Extended Universe in mid-September 2024.

How It Works

At signup, writers will each pitch at least three (up to five) different ideas for a fic of 5k-10k words to write for the collection. The pitches should focus on Legends characters or situations during the Original Trilogy and must fit the other story and pitch guidelines listed below.

Mods will review signups and assign one pitch from each writer to be written for the collection, with a goal of creating a collection with stories covering a variety of OT-era time periods, characters, and events.

Writers will submit their fics to a collection on Archive of Our Own (AO3), which will then be shared with the fandom.

Schedule

Sunday, April 28: Signups open

Sunday, June 2: Signups close

Saturday-Sunday, June 8-9: Writers receive their assignments

Week of July 7-13: First check-in with writers - happening now!

Week of August 4-10: Second check-in with writers

Sunday, August 11: Final drop out deadline

Sunday, September 8: Assignments due

Sunday, September 15: Collection revealed

(More details under the cut…)

Story and Pitch Guidelines

All stories should be set during or within six months of the events depicted in the Star Wars Original Trilogy films (0 BBY - 4ABY), and set within the main Star Wars galaxy (aka the Galaxy Far Far Away/GFFA).

Stories should focus on characters and/or events in the Star Wars Legends continuity, which can include any characters who appear in the three Original Trilogy films as well as characters from the Legends novels, comics, video games, or other materials.

Shipping guidelines: Stories should not be focused on romance or shipping and should not include smut. References to ships among characters in the story or among other characters are fine, but please limit these to mentions (for ships that do not include the point of view character) or subtext (for ships that do include the point of view character). Within these restrictions, any ships are allowed, regardless of whether they are considered canon in the Legends continuity.

Ratings and archive warnings: Any ratings or tags are allowed, as long as stories are appropriately tagged and follow the other story guidelines (e.g., no smut).

Each writer will submit at least three and up to five pitches for stories they would be willing to write for the collection. Across all the pitches, stories should feature a minimum of at least three different characters and a minimum of at least two different time periods during the OT. To ensure that we include a wide range of characters and stories in the collection, at least two pitches should feature a point of view character who is not one of the Original Trilogy main trio (Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo), and at least one pitch should feature a point of view character who is not another prominent OT character (Lando Calrissian, Chewbacca, R2D2, C3PO, Darth Vader), nor a member of the Rogue Squadron “Fab Four” (Wedge Antilles, Wes Janson, Tycho Celchu, Hobbie Klivian).

Stories for this collection are intended to add to the universe of fic we have for Legends; please do not submit pitches for stories you have already written and shared elsewhere, even if they fit the other guidelines.

Signup and Submission Details

Signups are now closed as of the end of the day June 2, 2024.

Once all signups have been reviewed, one of the mods will contact you via the information provided to let you know which one of your story pitches has been accepted (your assignment), and will provide instructions on how to submit your assignment to the collection.

We will also provide a signup form for people who would be willing to serve as a beta reader or cheerleader for other writers. Writers can request a beta reader when they sign up, or at any time before the beta request deadline (approximately two weeks before assignments are due). Betas may be available on a more limited basis after that deadline, but cannot be guaranteed.

Mods will check in with all writers twice over the course of the writing portion of the event to see how they are doing and connect them with a beta reader, cheerleader, or other assistance as needed. Please be sure to check your messages regularly and respond promptly to messages from the mods.

If you realize you will be unable to complete your assignment in time, please let the mods know as soon as possible, but definitely prior to the August 11 dropout deadline. That will enable us to reach out to find potential pinch hitters as needed.

Assignments are due Sunday, September 8 at any time. You will submit your fic via AO3, mods will confirm that it follows story and tagging guidelines, and it will be approved for the collection. The collection will be open for submissions a few weeks ahead of the deadline if you wish to submit early.

Because we intend to reveal these stories as a collection, please hold off on sharing or promoting your story until the full collection is released on September 15. After that time, please promote your story and others in the collection as much as possible!

Questions?

We’ll be posting more information as we go, but here are a few ways to find out more:

Check out our FAQ post HERE.

Follow @from-a-legends-pov for more updates and occasional Legends-related content

Send an ask to @from-a-legends-pov or contact Tumblr mods @ewokshootsfirst or @lajulie24

Reach out the event mods by email: fromalegendspov@gmail.com

We’re excited to share this event with you — please help us out by spreading the word!

[cranberrymoons]

same old lang syne

prompt: snow (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 rated: t tags: angst, open ending, post-breakup (like years and years) – aka the existentialism of running into your ex in the grocery store at christmas notes: title from earth's saddest christmas song – same old lang syne

welcome to Day 21 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

He’s standing in front of the avocado display, contemplating life and guacamole when he feels a hand land on his shoulder from behind.

“Steve?” 

He jumps, sucking in a sharp breath as he turns around, blinking at the face of the man standing a few feet away, who’s staring at him with wide eyes and a little smile. It’s so unexpected that he almost doesn’t recognize him, which is insane, because –

“Eddie,” he says. He shakes his head, letting out a little laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie���s face relaxes into a smile, and he holds out an arm for a hug. Steve returns it, feels his hand settle over his back in that place where he always used to hold him, slotting together warm and solid and familiar in spite of how long it’s been. 

They’ve always fit like this, together. Without even trying, they just fit.

“How are you?” he asks, pulling away before his throat can get too tight. “What are you doing here?”

There’s a lingering whiff of Eddie’s cologne clinging to his collar, and he tries not to focus on it too much. Tries not to let it draw his attention away from the way Eddie’s eyes are raking over him, his hair as wild as ever where it’s pulled back from his face. The trim cut of his leather jacket and the shine of his shoes, the soft hint of lines around his mouth.

“Just visiting,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder at nothing. “Christmas. Wayne.” He holds up the thing in his hand, which is a block of butter. “Baking cookies.”

Steve lets out a little laugh. “Nice,” he says. He holds up his basket. “Um. Same – just, parents, you know.”

And it’s been… how long? Almost ten years since they’ve seen each other. It feels a little awkward, a little weird, a little – something, but Eddie’s smile is still there on his face same as ever, and Steve’s heart gives a wet little thwump in his chest.

“Hey, uh –” Eddie clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck. “You want to grab a drink or something? Catch up?”

---

It’s Hawkins, Indiana, at 8 PM on Christmas Eve, so they predictably don’t find an open bar, but they head back to the store for a six pack and sit with it in Steve’s rental car.

It’s snowing outside, big soft flakes falling from the sky and gathering on the windshield, but he doesn’t turn on the wipers to clear it away, and neither of them comments on the fact that it was snowing like this back then too, the last time they saw each other. 

Steve’s thinking about it, though. He thinks Eddie probably is too, judging by the faraway look in his eye as he stares out the window and takes a sip of his beer. The radio is playing softly in the background, a cheery Christmas song that makes Steve feel a little like sticking his fist through the whole stereo system. The snow makes everything else outside the car feel muted and gentle, like the whole world is holding them close. 

“So how’s the–”

“What’ve you been–”

They both speak at the same time, then break off with matching embarrassed laughs. It seems to unwind some of the tension between them though, and Eddie smiles at him in the glow coming from the lights of the grocery store parking lot.

“How have you been?” he asks, turning so his back is pressed to the door, facing Steve as much as he can in the tight little space. “Where are you living now?”

“Yeah, good,” Steve says. He feels the corner of his mouth twist down. “For a while, you know. Chicago, sort of. I got married?”

“Oh, that’s–” Eddie’s eyes go a little wide, darting down to stare at his ring finger, which is empty. “Great?”

Steve lets out a quiet little sound, tilting his head to the side. “It was for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “Was he – or…”

“She,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “She’s great. Just– you know. Deserved better than me.”

A little line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows, and one of his hands reaches out then stops an inch away from landing on top of Steve’s. He hesitates there for a minute, like he’s not sure if it’s okay, and Steve’s eyes drop away from his face to stare down at it. 

He lifts one of his fingers, just enough that it grazes against the underside of Eddie’s palm, warm and soft, tracing a little pattern there until he draws Eddie’s hand down into his. His throat is tight, eyes hot and pricking at the corners, and he blinks a few times to clear it, eyes lifting back to Eddie’s face.

“And you?” he asks as Eddie’s hand settles in his. It feels safe there, like it’s never left. “Are you…”

“For a while,” Eddie says. “Not– you know, not married or anything, but just… seeing people. Dating. And then touring a lot and just– you know how it goes.”

And Steve doesn’t really, but he nods anyway, a little smile playing out over his face. 

“That’s right,” he says. “The band’s– I mean, congrats. You guys are doing really well.”

“The band is doing really well,” Eddie says, nodding slowly. His eyes are shining a little, and he sniffs, blinking back to Steve’s face. “I miss you.”

Steve lets out a little sound. “Don’t.”

“I do,” Eddie says. He shakes his head again, and Steve can feel it too, vision going blurry with it. “Every day. I fucked up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says. “I never should’ve let you go.”

“It was the right–” 

But Steve cuts himself off, because he was going to say the right choice, which is what he’s been telling himself ever since it happened. But he doesn’t actually believe that. He never has. 

He takes a breath.

“I miss you too.”

[also on ao3]

[midnightbears]

✿ tell 'em how the crowds went wild! tell 'em how i hope they shine!

⎯ in which you look back on how grateful you are for the opportunity bestowed upon you. aka: you joined the opla's cast!

#STARRING. iñaki godoy, mackenyu, jacob romero, taz skylar, emily rudd ft. fem!reader [elle fanning 4 faceclaim but u can imagine y/n anyway u wish!].

#TAGS. sfw, kind of context, a bit of smau but its tiny. mentions of covid just in case it's triggering?

#NOTE. pardon my rusty writing but i really wanted to get this out!!! i added an oc from one piece for the sake of the story but she's barely mentioned so uuuh yuh! timeline may be wrong but i work with what i'm given please bear with me. let me know if you would like more fics of this y/n??? ALSO IGNORE THE WATERMARKS ON THE PHOTOS I NEEDED TO MAKE THEM NEATER

© midnightbears on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

In the past, if someone were to come up to you and tell you that you’d be a part of the One Piece Live Action main cast in the future, you would’ve probably laughed in their faces despite your wishful thinking.

At that time, you were content with your work, doing short theatre plays with companies or gaining minor roles in musicals. Everything changed when you landed the role for the one-woman show Fleabag for a limited time on London’s West End after the leading actress underwent emergency surgery for an appendectomy. You only acted as the sex-obsessed mess of a woman for about three weeks, but it was enough time for people to notice you, to really see you.

You believed your career had reached its pinnacle when you were cast as Katherine Howard in Six: The Musical in London. Your name had become somehow well-known in the musical theatre world, and you had a small but dedicated fan base who liked uploading edits of you being a dork during the Megasix on YouTube and TikTok. 

Months later, you were bound to play as Fantine for Les Miserables when COVID abruptly struck, and you were dismayed that your job was ripped from you so abruptly. Your best friend, the sweetest person on earth, insisted on you moving in with her in fear that you’d be evicted from your apartment.

Months passed, and you eventually found a small way to help your friend pay rent by offering singing and acting lessons online to musical-aspiring teenagers. Since you had gained many followers from your earlier work on social media, it didn’t surprise you when the classes became sold out.

Your friend also convinced you to create a YouTube channel for you to upload videos of yourself (sometimes joined by her) where you watched and commented shitty movies, followed DIY tutorials just for the fun of it, performed covers of your favorite songs, and just generally vlogged your life (along with reactions to Taylor Swift’s (From The Vault) songs).

At first, you thought it was pretty stupid, but you were delightfully proved wrong when your videos harbored over 200k-300k views on a bad day, so you found no reason to stop as COVID-19 continued, growing to gain a little over five hundred thousand followers. Your reactions were often used for TikTok audios or clips, so you found your popularity growing and evolving during that year.

You believed yourself to be a general, simple woman. People liked you because you were elegant and levelheaded, although you could sometimes be chaotic. You also had a subtle sense of humor that many found charming. But mostly, you grew a steady fan base because your videos and presence comforted countless young adults and teenagers.

You were an optimist and a reassuring one, so during the times when COVID was so prominent, people sought refuge from the monstrosities of the world in your videos, where you seemed to connect with them even though you were on the other side of the screen.

However, everything changed somewhere in 2020-2021. That evening, your best friend got home from work with excitement practically oozing out of her every pore. You and your best friend were avid anime watchers and manga readers, so you couldn’t help the face you made when she told you that One Piece was getting a live-action.

Although you were skeptical, your friend practically insisted you send an audition tape. You grimaced at that. It was well-known that live anime actions were almost always corny and cringeworthy compared to the original work, and people never liked them. You had learned that much from Death Note and a couple of others. However, your best friend convinced you with this argument:

“If it’s that bad, then at least you’ll gain more followers out of the memes that people will make, and if it’s good, you’ll still get famous anyway!”

Eventually, you sent a video of you performing one of the lengthy monologues from Fleabag to your agency and simply hoped for the best. Your friend was practically rooting for you to get the role of Anastasia, one of the first integrants of the Straw Hat crew, joining before Sanji and after Usopp. You adored her as she greatly reminded you of your late mother, although you would be happy with any role.

Somewhere in November 2021, you remember a lot of screaming and crying. When you try to look back on it, all you remember is the happiness you felt when you received confirmation of the role of Anastasia. You were practically over the moon, and you and your friend celebrated inside your small apartment. You were entirely alone, just two drunk girls dancing and cheering, until one of the neighbors knocked on the ceiling with a broom.

liked by inakigo, emilyrudd and 574,949 others

yourusername actually lost for words and filled to the brim with gratitude...... i cannot express how excited i am to play my girl anastasia and bring her to life. from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has supported me. your faith in me means everything. congrats to iñaki, emily, jacob, mackenyu and taz, thank you to onepiecenetflix, thank you to my best friend for convincing me to audition for the role, and thank you, oda sensei, for putting anastasia's heart in my hands. love u all <3

view all comments

November 10, 2021

y/nsfanclub.02, AAAAAAAA SO EXCITED FOR THIS I ACTUALLY CANT BELIEVE IT

⤷ starl6ighwnb, LIKE FR IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THIS IS INSANE

user8392y3r927y, HELLO YOUR GRACE ANASTASIA

inakigo, Congrats!!!!!!!!

taz_skylar, 🔥🔥🔥

The One Piece fan base dearly loved the character of Anastasia, a well-mannered, bubbly, upbeat, fashion-loving duchess who always spoke in a Transatlantic accent but also had a quick wit and a bit of a sweet tooth. Anastasia’s dream was to become the most dangerous pirate to ever grace the seas and prove everyone who doubted her wrong.

Of course, with a big character came a big responsibility.

Sometimes, insecurity nearly got the better of you. You had to fill huge shoes, and there were many people to convince and impress. However, your love for this project was bigger than the gnawing uncertainty on the back of your neck, so you continued strongly until the end of Season One, finding comfort in your cast mates and the countless people who counted on you and, most importantly, believed in you.

Oda handpicked you, and that argument alone was enough to shoot any insecurities away.

Well, needless to say, people loved you!

Critics acclaimed your portrayal of the character, as well as the commendable chemistry you shared with the rest of the cast. The fans found it incredibly funny that your character was the complete opposite of how you actually acted in real life, and you often found yourself blissfully immersed in the fan base's love and praise.

Your channel and social media suddenly grew tenfold. Although you had stopped uploading videos every week due to the recording of season one, your followers were more than happy to wait for your return, and as one would expect, they were thrilled to have you back once you did upload a vlog explaining everything.

Over the course of the six months, you had been recording from time to time for a YouTube video in the set. Previously, you had asked the producers for permission to record some behind-the-scenes for your channel and your usual interactions with the rest of the cast with your personal Sony camera, as you felt it would be a nice way to bring the fans and the cast closer.

The producers gave the okay on the condition that you would wait until the first season aired on Netflix. You happily agreed and carefully began recording some scenes of your dressers and hairdressers as they prepared you, a few shots of your instructor showing you how you were supposed to use the guns that Anastasia employed... simple things.

Back in the day, you were still getting acquainted with the other cast members, and you didn't want to seem rude by forcibly making them appear on your videos, so you waited for a few weeks until you could properly call yourself companions. Then, you invited them to appear in the videos.

Iñaki, Taz, and Jacob liked to take advantage of the little free time they had between scenes they didn't appear in to innocently steal your camera and use it to their heart's content. One day, you got home only to find the memory card was completely full. It was an extensive video of them walking around the set, with Taz recording while Kiki and Jacob pointed out random stuff to the people who lived inside your camera, as Jacob liked to call them.

Mackenyu, being more reserved and introverted, mostly liked to act as a cameraman for you as you showed the props you used and other things, often making comments or turning the camera around whenever you referred to something.

Meanwhile, Emily had a natural knack for being in front of the camera. Whenever you asked her to join in, she effortlessly slipped into the co-host role, bantering with you and adding her own insights into the behind-the-scenes world of the show.

With the first season out of the way, you took the time to carefully pick what videos you wanted to use in the final tape, and it took you a little over a month and a half to properly edit it and turn it into a wonderful thirty-minute-long behind-the-scenes. You even sent it to the producers and your co-stars in case there was a scene they wanted deleted. Fortunately, they all gave you the okay.

You teased the video a bit on your Instagram before uploading it a few days later, and the support it received was out of this world. It gained over two million views and hundreds of thousands of likes.

You were kind of expecting this. While some BTS had already been uploaded on YouTube, yours was different because you were showing it from your perspective. The fans loved every second of it, and even started asking for a second or third part. You even saw new videos on YouTube of recompilations from your video with the titles being silly things like The One Piece Cast Being Chaotic for Seven Minutes.

At that moment, your life felt so full. You were getting contacted by industries who wanted you to appear on their videos and their stages, thousands of fans who loved you, and a feeling so peculiar that this would be eternal.

liked by taz_skylar, morganlogoff and 1,523,199 others

yourusername missing my wig and my gang hours ☹️

view all comments

November 10, 2023

morganlogoff, love love love you💗💗💗

curlikaqy, NO ONE KNOWS I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

emilyrudd, GIRL I WANT TO SEE YOU COME BACK TO AMERICA

bookofjacob, missing your camera hours💔

[starchaserdreams]

My fics on AO3

Alright, so I deleted my AO3 account a few months ago (thinking I was done with this) and orphaned all of my works. Well, now I deeply regret that. But I have collected as many of them as I could find here for anyone who's interested.

Jegulus/Starchaser

Temptation Eyes (Now Complete!) - My Jegulus Regency AU. Completed, being posted one chapter twice a week. James enters the London season hoping to find a wife. What he finds instead is Regulus Black, and he never looks back. But as implied by the era, it won't be easy for them. Background wolfstar, shown as a different approach to a queer relationship in the regency era.

Get Regulus Out - 82k, Rated M, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Working Through Trauma, No War/Riddle AU, background Wolfstar, background Marylily. James tries to convince Regulus to leave Grimmauld Place as Sirius once did, and save himself from his parents.

How to Spot Signs of Jealousy - 4k, fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, miscommunication. After Regulus gets fed up with people asking him out because of his family name, he and Barty agree to fake date. For some reason, James Potter seems livid...and Regulus can only guess that it's because he's homophobic. That's got to be it, right?

But Where's Regulus - 1k. James on laughing gas after getting his wisdom teeth taken out and talking about how much he likes Regulus

Waking Up Slowly - 2k. James wakes up in bed with Regulus in the Gryffindor dorm, something Sirius might not take kindly to.

I've Read Your Book - 1k. Two one shots based on the same premise: Writer!James didn't even know Regulus knew about his book, let alone had read it, but Regulus comes up to him and says "I've read your book" aka the most exciting words of all time to start a conversation for a writer.

Little Ball of Fire - 1k. Regulus gets into an argument with Snape. Regulus begins threatening him, so James picks Regulus up and carries/drags him out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

Prongsfoot/Bambibelle

What's in a Name - 5k, Soulmates AU, secret crush. In a world where soulmates exist and can identify each other by the feeling they get when they say each other's names, it's pretty easy to identify who your soulmate is. But for Sirius and James who only call each other by their nicknames, it takes a while to finally know.

The Bachelorette - 15k, mutual pining, Bachelorette AU. Sirius and James are both cast as contestants on the Bachelorette. Although their stated goal was to woo Lily and capture her heart, they don’t quite manage it. They fall for each other instead.

A Real Marriage Under Wizarding Law - 6k, mutual pining, fake/pretend relationship, drunken shenanigans. Sirius and James get a quickie drunken marriage in Knockturn Alley. When they wake up in the morning, they decide not to get it annulled so that they can save Sirius from an arranged marriage.

The Only Transfer Students to Ever Come to Hogwarts - 9k, arranged marriage, hijinx, angst with a happy ending. Sirius is upset to learn that not only does he have to transfer to a new school, but his parents have set up an arranged marriage for him. James assures him that's impossible, but Sirius knows his parents don't make empty threats. (Written for Prongsfoot Bingo)

The Smell of Water - 4k, Amortentia, idiots in love. Sirius and James argue about what they're smelling without realizing that there's Amortentia in the room. When Sirius realizes, he becomes a whole mess about it. (Written for Prongsfoot Bingo)

Wolfstar

Wolfstar Microfics Theme: Love - 8k, a collection of 22 microfics themed around love

6x James Found Out, and 1x Harry Did - 10k. Six ways James could have learned about Sirius and Remus' secret relationship, and one way Harry could have learned about it. *This is specifically ATYD fanfiction, and it's set in that universe.

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART ONE: ONE NIGHT STAND

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Notes/Background:

As mentioned before, I have decided to rewrite this story which is a story I have become invested in. I made some changes to the background, location and interactions between my characters so that I can follow a story outline and whilst the reader in this fic has a very specific racial and social economic background, I decided to use reference to “you” and “Y/N”. I hope no one is put off by this.

The fic plays in 2022 and, in midst of going through separation, Cillian has decided to take six months off from acting in order to volunteer at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, located in the heart of Dublin.

The following characters are relevant to this story:

Cillian (46)

In this fictional piece, Cillian is 46.  Just six weeks ago, he moved out of his material home following yet another argument with his wife Danielle who, just like him, works in the industry. She is an actress.

He now rents an apartment in Dublin while going through the initial stages of divorce and, whilst he is struggling to adapt to his new life, he knows that it had been coming. Their marriage had been in distress for the past two years, ever since Danielle cheated on him with another actor while on set.

Danielle (42)

Danielle is Cillian’s soon to be ex-wife. She, too, is struggling to adapt to the new living arrangements but has already gone on a few dates in order to get her mind of the separation.

Danielle will play an important part later in this fic.

Dermont (50)

Just like in real life, Dermont is Cillian’s friend who has been trying hard to get Cillian to go out and let his hair down.

Dermont too is married, with children, and will play an important part throughout this fic.

Nina (13)

Nina is Cillian’s daughter who he sees occasionally now that his wife makes it difficult for him to gain access to his children. Nina, however, has her own mind and does what she wants, causing some trouble for both of her parents.

Nina’s biggest passion is dancing and she attends an elite program at the Dublin Academy of Dance. The lessons take place twice per week, after school.

Nina also has a close relationship with Cillian’s mother, aka Grandma Murphy.

Max (16)

Max is Cillian’s son and spends a little more time with his father than his mother would like. At 16, he too does his own thing and, just like his father, he enjoys acting.

Kit (32)

Kit is Cillian’s personal assistant and will play a bigger part in this fic later on.

James (24)

James is your on and off boyfriend throughout this fic and attends acting classes with you.

Lorraine (23)

Lorraine is one of your friends. Lorraine also attends acting class with you.

Emma (23)

Emma is your best friend. You share a small studio apartment with her which, essentially, is all you can afford. Emma moved to Ireland with you in 2019 after you both received an international scholarship through an UNESCO project. Both of you migrated to America as children, without parents, and went through the so-called foster system there. You never found a real home back in the US and Emma was always the one who kept you in check and, whilst you were dedicated to your work, you did some things in your teens of which you were not exactly proud of.

You (22)

After having been in and out of foster care in the US, in 2019, you moved to Ireland through a scholarship program.

You are interested in literature, theatre, acting, music and, in particular, dancing.

You are an incredible dancer and teach ballet and contemporary dance to students at the Dublin Dance Academy after spending most of your days at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, learning how to act on stage.

You are in your final year of studies and your dream is to act, on stage, in front of a large audience. Unfortunatly for you though, you are rather self-conscious about your past and sometimes struggle with confidence.

What you do not know however is that your life is about too change following a night out in Temple Bar with your best friend. You will leave your past behind and become more confident with the help of someone who you never thought you could connect with.

CILLIAN’S POV

‘Common Cill! You need to get out of the house and have some fun. Let’s go for a pint. Or two…’ Dermont said to his friend as they were sitting on the couch, talking about how Cillian’s wife had caused some problems again with the children’s school. Cillian was frustrated and the exhaustion was written on his face.

He felt depressed and upset that it had come to this as, for years, he tried hard to stay with Danielle for his children’s sake. Eventually though, he gave up and this meant that he could see his children less often now, only three out of seven days per week, unless, of course, Danielle changed her plans.

After twenty years, the love was gone and so was the passion. Danielle was no longer loyal to him and Cillian had to revaluate his life at the age of 46. The two of them fought a lot and this affected the children who, just last week, said to Cillian’s mother that they were glad for the fact that their parents had finally called it quits.

Ever since their separation though, Cillian acted like hermit and stayed at home. He watched TV or listened to music, not feeling the need to go out until, eventually, his best friend had enough of it.

“I don’t know pal. I am not in the mood” was what Cillian said while Dermont barged into his friend bedroom and opened up the cabinet, looking for something for Cillian to wear.

“Too bad. We are going out. I am not taking no for an answer” Dermont responded before telling his mate to go and shower which, eventually, he did.

YOUR POV

It was Thursday evening, around 6 o’clock when you sat in the university library and packed up your books and laptop before making your way to Temple Bar. As usual, you were late and your friend Emma was probably already waiting for you.

Ten minutes later, she indeed greeted you at the door of the overcrowded pub, telling you that you were being impolite for keeping her waiting.

“I am sorry. I got caught up reading. Drama School is back next week and I need to be prepared” you said, apologising to your friend before giving her a tight hug.

“Nah, don’t apologise. I was just teasing you. I couldn’t possibly be angry at you” she smiled in response and, the truth was that, instead of being angry, she felt truly sorry for you.

You had recently broken up with James again and the break up itself was a difficult one. You were on and off, breaking up continuously, but this time you were certain not to go back to him. He had cheated on you after you had been with him for three years and the fact that he could do something so cruel broke you.

In the end, however, you stopped drowning yourself in self-pity and when Emma called you up, suggesting a girls’ night out, you agreed to join in.

Unfortunatly for you, however, your other friends, Nora and Lorraine did not come. They both attended Drama School with you and decided to see a play at the Gaiety, which was something you couldn’t afford to do. Thus, it was just you and Emma and Emma was certainly the odd one out between the four of you.

She was not in the same class with you and the others but, instead, studied fashion design worked as a bartender in Chelsea. She had dropped out of Drama School last year and was funky, outgoing and somewhat weird.

“So, are you ready to get tanked?” Emma asked as you simply stood there when you walked in, still pondering about your failed relationship.

“I rarely ever drink Emma” you reminded her and, the truth was, that you didn’t like to go out to bars and pubs either. You much rather sat at home with a good book in your hand while listening to some music.

“Well, too bad! Go and find a seat for us. We are going to get drunk and bitch about everything we hate about men, and believe me, I have a long list" Emma joked before disappearing into the crowd in order to fetch you a drink.

Just as Emma walked off, you looked around to see if you could find a table inside the crowded room but, to your disappointment, most of them were already taken.

It was a long weekend so the fact that most people were out drinking did not really surprise you and, when Emma returned with drinks in her hand, you could not help but laugh. She had purchased the most ridiculous looking cocktails, featuring both, a lot of cream on top and a Hawaiian style umbrella sticking out to the side. They were sickening to say the least but, unbeknownst to you, each of them had at least three shots of tequila.

“What is this? It looks and tastes awful” you then told her after you took a first sip from the large glass before, suddenly, you felt a slight nudge on your back which, ultimately, caused you to tumble forward and slosh your drink all over your friend’s shirt.

"Fuck” you spat as the man behind you who clearly ignored you even after running into you, so you turned around and scowled him.  

‘An apology would have been nice’ you said with frustration as Emma was drying off her shirt.

‘An apology?’ he asked with a thick Irish accent before telling you that it was you who stepped back and pushed into him and his friend.

“I did not!” you said before you swallowed nervously. “You ran into me” you then pointed out again as your eyes were drawn to the stranger’s eyes. They were several shades of blue, just like the deep of the ocean. You had a thing for men with big and beautiful eyes and despite your annoyance with this stranger, you had to admit that he was rather attractive.

He was Irish for sure. His accent was strong and his skin was pale, featuring many tiny little freckles. He had slightly greying hair which were not too short and not too long either. They looked a little messy but this style was exactly what suited him.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a little worn around the knee area. His boots, too, were worn but probably expensive, made from brown leather and, around his right wrist, he wore a basic watch and on the other, he featured a leather band.

"Well, okay. I am sorry, alright? I don’t need an argument right now” the stranger said while you assessed him and it was obvious to both of your friend that you had caught each other’s attention. This handsome stranger was looking at you just as you were looking at him and his friend decided to take the lead.  

“Yes, my friend here can be a little clumsy at times” he said to you before shaking your hand and introducing himself.

“I am Dermont by the way and I am less clumsy than my friend here who, as an apology, will buy you a drink” he joked, causing the blue-eyed stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I will?” he asked Dermont who gave him a quick a but reassuring nod.  

“A drink would be nice. I am Y/N and this Emma” you said before shaking both of men’s hands and then asking for the other man’s name.

“And you? What’s your name?” you wanted to know.

“Cillian” the stranger responded and, after you told him that it was nice to meet him, Dermont prompted you both to follow them to the bar, which was when Cillian pulled his friend aside, asking him in a whisper about what he was doing.

“Helping you out with the ladies, mate. The one wearing the dress has caught your attention and there is no reason for you not to pursue her now that you are single again” Dermont whispered back while Cillian quickly shook his head.

“There is! She is in her mid-twenties at the most which is too fucking young” Cillian pointed out but Dermont was determined to make it happen anyway.

“Yeah, and? You don’t have to marry her. Just have some fun. Let loose. Take her home. I don’t know” Dermont said before making an interesting observation. “Despite, she clearly has no idea who you are so this is a huge bonus” Dermont told him before turning to you again and asking you what you wanted to drink.

“Gin and tonic would be nice” you said shyly before thanking him for the gesture.

“And your friend? What will she have?” he then asked for politeness sake but Emma was still not impressed by what happened.

“Nothing. I think I am leaving. I am all sticky and wet” Emma said angrily to the man who was looking at her somewhat dumbfounded now, which is when you spoke up and smiled.

‘Listen. She has had a bad day so, would you give us a minute please?’ you asked, not wanting the men to leave just yet.

You had your eyes on the clumsy blue-eyed stranger and, albeit the fact that he was clearly at least twice your age, he was cute, handsome and intriguing.  

“I got to go home Y/N. I smell of Tequila now. It is gross. I am sorry, but you are coming with me, right? I cannot leave you here by yourself” Emma told you quietly but you shook your head.

“Would you mind if I stayed? These guys look harmless and the clumsy one is kind of cute” you asked before glancing over to the stranger again, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows.

“He is twice your age” she pointed out.

“And your point is?” you chuckled before you gave her a cheeky smile.

“Okay. He is attractive. I give you that. But you need to be careful, alright? He might be married or weird. Or possibly both” Emma lectured you and you raised a very important question, which clearly outlined your intentions to her.

“He doesn’t wear a wedding ring so I doubt that he is married” you pointed out before looking over towards the blue eyed stranger again and, immediately, your eyes met his. “So let’s say that he isn’t married or weird, would it be wrong if I was to hook up with him just for one night? I never had a one night stand before but he’s really hot and I really need to get over James. This could really help, you know…” you said, causing Emma to laugh.

‘It’s not wrong to have a one night stand silly. You are young and should let your hair down once in a while. James has been holding you back so I would say, go for it…” she told you, giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Now go and get him tiger. And text me if you are not coming home so that I know that you are safe” Emma then said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Yes mum” you joked before giving her a hug and disappearing into the crowd again to follow the stranger.

***

After a minute or so, you approached Cillian again. He was holding a gin and tonic in one hand and a pint of Guinness in the other. His somewhat random friend had disappeared and, without questioning him about it, you took your drink from his hand and walked over towards a quieter area with him.

“I am sorry about your friend” Cillian then said carefully while you smiled at him and leaned back against the wall.

“It’s fine, really” you told him almost shyly as he glanced at you with those sparkling blue eyes. They were large and magical and blended in nicely with his pale freckled skin.

“Where did your friend go?” you then asked while secretly hoping that he too had taken off.

“His wife called. He had to leave and told me to apologise to you for not saying goodbye” Cillian explained and you quickly realised that this was a set up.

“Really? His wife called, huh?” you thus teased, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Yes. That’s what he said. Although, to tell you the truth, I think that he was trying to set us up so, if you prefer, we can just leave it at that and go our separate ways” Cillian then said with great honesty and your jaw dropped.

“I knew it” you then laughed in response while trying hard to look surprised.  

“How so?” Cillian asked.

“You aren’t a good actor. I didn’t believe you for a second when you said that his wife called. He told you to say that, didn’t he?” you chuckled causing the handsome stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I am not a good actor?” he asked. He was surprised by your statement but now knew for sure that you really had no idea who he was.

“No” you said, earning you a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose I wasn’t trying to put on an act” Cillian pointed out with laughter.

“Okay. Fair enough” you responded.  “So, are you married?” you then asked, wanting to make sure.

“Why would my friend be trying to set me up with you if I was married?” Cillian asked surprised, chuckling again.

“I don’t know, but these things happen, so I want to be cautious. It just doesn’t make sense for someone like you to be single, you know…” you stammered before realising that you must have sounded like an idiot right now.

“Someone like me?” Cillian chuckled before answering your question. “I separated from wife six weeks ago, so I am single but, to be clear, I am also not interested in dating right now” he then pointed out with more seriousness and you smiled.

“Good. Because neither am I” you explained and, after a while, you got talking about more entertaining topics like books, music and even art.

Just like you, he was obsessed with literature and theatrics. He loved music and music was what you talked about the most. You learned that he had children and you told him about having migrated to Ireland from the US.

Talking with Cillian was fun. He seemed educated and very smart. He was funny too and, after about three drinks and endless conversations, you ended up asking about his age. You were curious and learned that he was in his mid-forties but, when he asked you about your age, you lied.

“I am 29” you said, making yourself a whooping six years older than you actually were.

“Really? 29?” he asked over yet another drink and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. Why?” you asked and he smiled.

“You look much younger” he admitted and you bit your tongue. You knew that lying was wrong but you also knew that, if you had told him your real age, the night may have ended right then and there. There was no way he would have been interested in you if he knew that you were half his age.

In the end, he believed you and, within the next half an hour or so, you were both up to your fourth drink and this is when Cillian glanced into your eyes and saw some uncertainty laced with a heavy dosing of lust.

But lust, you saw in his eyes as well and it did not take him long to close the last inch of air in between you and felt you jump at the contact.

“Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere a little quieter?” he then asked after almost two hours of talking and drinking, which, really, turned out to be exactly what you were waiting for. He had never done this before but also knew that he had nothing to lose. He wanted to take his chances with you and knew that it would, possibly, lead to more.

“Yes. Sure. Where do you want to go?” you then stammered as his eyes just dropped to your mouth again before, slowly, he leaned in, his lips just millimetres from yours now without touching them yet.

“Where do you live?” he then asked carefully, almost whispering the words into your ear and thereby testing the waters, but you knew that you could not have taken him home with you as you were living with your friend in a tiny studio apartment.

“Darndale, but my place is being renovated at the moment” you lied again. “How about you?” you then asked and he smiled.

“Not far from here” he told you with a hint of reluctance as well and, when you suggested for him to show you his place, he nodded carefully.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s get a taxi?” he asked and, once again you smiled and gave him a reluctant nod.

***

After you got into the taxi and Cillian gave the taxi-driver his address, it did not take you both very long before you finally started to make out.

The sexual tension that had built up between you was unreal and, just as you sat there, next to this stranger, like a shy little girl, his hand came to caress your leg as if this was the most normal thing to do.

He had a certainty about him which both intrigued and aroused you and, just as his fingers traced over your skin, he could feel you trembling.

As your tainted breath became shaky, Cillian leaned towards you, this time to taste the remnants of the liquor from your lips, and you let him.

His actions caught you by surprise but you gave into the kiss nonetheless. It felt good, incredible, and passionate.

After kissing your lips for a few minutes in the back of the taxi, Cillian then leaned down further and helped himself to the delicate skin along your neck. He kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive skin until you were writhing and making impatient little sounds from your throat. He then buried one hand into your hair and attacked your mouth again, capturing those rosy red lips with his ow.

His tongue soon demanded entrance and you were in no position to refuse. Your hands grasped at Cillian’s body as you gave into the onslaught of his tongue, darting in and out, teasing and caressing until both of you were breathless. Cillian’s mouth tasted sweet and yet bitter, the liquor still lingering on his lips. It tasted so good and you wanted more.

You were moaning freely against his mouth, your hands taking on a life of their own to roam across his back which is when Cillian broke the kiss and flirting time was over.

The taxi pulled up in front of his apartment building and you stepped out together and walked through the lobby.

***

The building itself was much fancier than what you were used to and, after less than a minute, you arrived at the elevator and Cillian pushed the button. Your heart was beating fast in your chest now and, just as you waited, you turned towards Cillian and pressed your lips against his again.

Without reluctance, he deepened the kiss and began to gently probe your mouth with his tongue. His hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading and you pulled yourself up against him feeling the length of him against your leg.

It was almost like the beast within you both had been unleashed at the same time and, when the elevator's bell chimed and the doors opened wide, you both stumbled into his penthouse.

His hands were on you in an instant again and the erotic sensation of this man’s touch alone sent a quiver through your body. He was so much older than you and, yet, you kissed and caressed each other like two teenagers in heat.

“I never…you know” you stammered nervously as Cillian’s hands were everywhere as you somehow managed to find your way in to his bedroom within mere seconds.  

“You never had a one-night stand?” he asked just as you found yourself being pinned against the wall in the heat of the moment.

“No. Never” you responded, knowing very well that this was all this was going to be. A one-night stand. Nothing more and nothing less. That was what you both wanted and he made sure for you to know that before he took you upstairs.

“Do you want to stop?” he thus asked gently but you shook your head. You did not want him to stop. He made you feel good. Too good.

‘No’ you whispered eventually as you moaned with lust when his lips connected with yours again and you swung your arms around his neck, tugging on his curls.

You kissed and then caressed each other while you began to grind yourself against him, feeling the length of his hard cock through the denim of the jeans.

“Fuck. You are something else. Simply stunning” Cillian then whispered into your ear after nibbling on it gently, eliciting another loud moan from you.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?” he then teased and you shyly shook your head.

‘No, but I want to. I want you to fuck me. Right now” you whispered, running your hand over his crotch and it was becoming way too difficult for Cillian to control himself now. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

‘Good. Because I am unable to hold back much longer’ he then said before spinning you around, which is when, finally, you got a good look at where you would be experiencing your first time with anyone but James.

To your surprise, Cillian’s bed looked like something out of a magazine with a white comforter and an abundance of pillows resting against a large wooden headboard that arched backward toward the wall. Lamps on either side of the bed cast a warm yellow light around the room, making the entire space feel soft.

Just as you looked at it, the blue-eyed stranger came up behind you, kissing your neck and whispering into your ear again “let me take this off for you”

The man’s hands then went to the back of your dress where he released the zipper and, just as he did, you pushed the fabric to the floor and stepped out of it before kicking off your shoes. You were now undressed, wearing nothing more than a pair of black lace panties, and then, when you turned around to face this much older man again, his eyes went straight to your naked breasts.

‘Fuck, they are perfect’ he said almost inadvertently as he caressed your firm flesh before, finally, pulling each of your nipples slightly.

‘They aren’t too bad’ you giggled as his hands massaged your firm numbs before they wandered deeper and deeper until he made contact with your lace covered core.

“Lay down for me” he then ordered as your breathing increased with the sudden flash of heat radiating from both of your bodies. You could feel his eyes on your breasts still as you complied with his request and climbed on the bed.

“As you wish” you stammered nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t realise how inexperienced you truly were. You had only had sex with one man before and you most certainly were not in your late twenties, which is what you had told him earlier that night.

As you laid there though, you watched as the handsome stranger began to undress himself as well and, when his shirt finally came off, you could see his pale freckled skin which aroused you. His chest was covered with a patch of hair, some brown and some grey, matching the grey streaks of hair on his head. Then, there was also some hair which traced downwards from his belly button and you could not wait to see more.

‘You are fucking perfect’ the stranger told you as you looked at him with lust and hunger and, just as you thought you couldn’t get any more excited, he pushed down his briefs and revealed his raging erection to you which was glistening with precum already.

It stood up proudly and you realised that, unlike you, he was comfortable with being completely naked like this. He was bigger than James which, too, aroused you but also made you blush and panic a little.

You starred, and starred and still starred at his cock when he finally joined you on bed with a sleek smile on his face.

As soon as he landed on bed with you, his lips connected with yours again but, this time around, there was some more force and urgency to his kisses. He demanded you to part your lips and you complied, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth just far enough to touch yours.

He flicked it up and down quickly while pulling himself further into your core which, ultimately, pushed you onto the back of the bed.

Despite the heat and passion, the stranger remained rather calm and you loved that and hated it at the same time. You could not help but want to speed him up as you could already feel your heart pounding rapidly and vibrating through your chest. But he clearly had experience and knew not to rush it even despite the fact that you were both slightly drunk.

“Your lips are perfect. So soft and sweet. I could kiss you all night” the man then marvelled and you smiled as no one had ever kissed you like this, not even your boyfriend.

“You should. You are incredibly good at this” you stammered and then you shivered again as you felt his fingertips squeeze your hips.

“At what?” he asked just after you sucked his bottom lip between yours and grazed your teeth as deep as they would naturally go. You felt his jaw clench. In fact, you felt every muscle in his body tensing and then tensing more.

“At kissing me. In fact, I don’t think anyone else has ever kissed me like this before” you said shyly as your ankles were now locked behind the stranger’s knees and you didn’t remember consciously placing them there but, then again, you didn’t remember consciously doing anything since the moment you kissed him.

“That’s good. Then, perhaps I should kiss more than just your lips, shouldn’t I?” he then teased and, immediately, your hand pulled him by the nape of his neck further, right back against your mouth.

“You should kiss every part of my body” you confirmed and the stranger groaned against your lips with pleasure before moving his hands from your hips down your thigh tusking as much pressure as he could manage before he spread his fingers out as he journeyed just as ferociously back up.

“Every part you say?” he then teased as you tilted your head back, closing your eyes and using your sense of touch to the full while inhaling his scent.

“Yes, every part” you moaned and he looked up, seeing your soft closed eyes and plump lips in ecstasy and his view trailed down your neck and between your breasts.

“Very well then” he said as his hands slid around your back and he gripped the small of your back with his powerful fingertips.

The stranger soon felt you shiver and let his tongue slid up from the centre of your collar bone to the centre of your throat where he felt you suddenly gulp.

He sure was good at this, good at teasing you and he knew it too as he had a slight chuckle at your reaction to his touch and kisses.

You moaned loudly as he kissed you everywhere, which was something that sent shivers down his spine and yours. At same time, in between his assault on your tender skin, you smiled against his, trailing kisses over his throat and to his ear.

Lips and hands were everywhere now and his hands pressed firmly against your skin as he explored your body. He started at your thighs and pressed into your tight belly. He completely encased your rib cage with his large hands before lightening his touch as he began to caress your breasts.

‘Please don’t stop’ you moaned as, finally, the stranger hoovered over you and you were laying under him.

He then made it priority to grab your face with both hands and hold you in the longest, hottest kiss he knew you would ever have. He kissed down your neck and you used your strength in your arms and legs to press yourself up into his mouth until, finally, he let his tongue flick over one of your nipples.

‘God yes’ you moaned.  It was too much for you to try and keep your hands from his body and you fought to keep your hands from trembling at the least as you streamed your fingers through his hair and made a request by tugging him further into your breast. He complied willingly, for a moment but was soon lost over your long flat stomach that he could feel quiver under his tongue. It was unlike anything else you had ever felt before and he hasn’t even gotten to your sex yet.

"What are you going to do to me?” you moaned and this stranger well and truly adored how nervous you were and how much you wanted him at the same time. You were a quivering mess and his lips and fingers did not relent.

‘Well, hopefully, I am going to make you cum” he mused, making you realise that, indeed, he knew very well what he was doing to you and your body, playing it like an instrument and tuning it to his will.

‘With, uhm…what…?” you huffed out as you could barely focus your eyes as you looked down at him just as his hands melted into your panties and lifted you up by the ass in order to take them off.

“I want to taste you and make you cum with my mouth” he clarified as his face was so close to your aching core and you gave up trying to watch him when your vision blurred from the throbbing heat wave through your body.

When this handsome stranger finally pulled down your lace panties, you heard a high pitched squeal that, a moment later, you realised came from your clenched teeth.

‘Fuck, you are perfect everywhere, aren’t you?’ he then said with a low and dark voice while glancing at your aching pussy before, with the width of his shoulders, he pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you just above your core, causing you to moan.  

‘You are so wet already. I can see it’ he then said and you shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy and soon felt his fingers join in, running gently over your soaking mound.  

“Oh god. Please” you then, finally, shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire wetness while he held your lips open with two of his fingers.

‘That feels so good’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.

Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much for you to bear. Trying to hold back, you shifted and squirmed beneath him and an involuntary scream escaped you.

‘It’s too much” you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit. No one had ever pleasured you like this before and you bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over it.

“I can’t, you need to stop, oh my god please” you fought with yourself, denying yourself what you craved the most. You could cum right then and there, explode against Cillian’s lips with desire, but it felt too heavenly and too intense. You did not know if you could withstand it, feeling overstimulated already.

“You can” the stranger whispered while pressing two of his fingers inside of you, pushing them right up against your g-spot as he watched you arch your back and cling on to the sheets.

“Please. I can’t…” you screamed out, moaning, your legs quivering.

“Yes, you can” he repeated with a sly smile before continuing his onslaught on your sex.

‘Fuck, oh god” you screamed again, still trying to fight your own release which felt too intense and too surreal.

“Give in to it and let me give you what you need" the stranger then told you and, with that, you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you came. So, you decided to let go for him even if that meant that you may make a fool of yourself.

As his mouth returned to your mound and his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing towards the unfamiliar feeling. And, when he finally sucked your clit into his mouth again, you were sent over the edge.

‘Fuck! Oh god! Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your legs began to quiver. Your body shook uncontrollably and your hands came flying down, getting caught in the stranger’s hair, pressing him against your sex before pulling him away again.

“Enough! Please” you choked as he wouldn’t relent and continued to suck and lick until you slowly calmed down.

‘See, I told you, you could do it’ the man then chuckled and you could not help but laugh and cry all at the same time.

‘Fuck’ you gasped. ‘I didn’t expect to cum like this” you stammered nervously, causing the stranger to smile and look at you with both, admiration and confusion.

‘Then what did you expect?’ he teased before he moved up and kissed your lips hard, making you taste yourself on his lips.

‘Not sure, actually. I just never had an orgasm from oral sex before’ you stammered nervously after he pulled away from you and used his palms to spread your lips.

‘Really?’ he asked, adoring your shyness and you nodded before moving your hand to his cock.

“Really” you said while stroking his cock, eliciting soft moans from him. “But I still need you inside of me. I want to feel you” you then told him while he positioned himself between your legs.

“Do you have condoms?” Cillian then asked, seeing that he was entirely unprepared for this.

‘No, but I am on the pill” you said nervously, knowing that things were about to become real. He was going to slide into you and you were nervous about it for some reason.

‘Good’ he responded. ‘I can’t wait to feel you’ Cillian then said as he ran his hands up the inside of your thighs, sliding them toward your pussy before using his fingers to spread your labia slowly and gently, dipping his index finger inside to cover it in your slippery juices again.

‘Please. Stop teasing” you moaned as Cillian moved the tip of his finger upward to find your clit, which had grown under the excitement and was now protruding from the protection of its hood. The sweet smell of sex filled his nostrils as he made small, slow circles with his finger.

‘So impatient aren’t we’ Cillian teased while angling his length downward to touch its head against the lips of your pussy. It was like a drug to watch himself rubbing against you, coating the head of his penis in a sheen of your slippery wetness.

‘Yes, please. I want your cock inside of me’ you begged again as you thrust with your hips forward, wanting him to penetrate you and, after a little more teasing, so he did.

“Like this?” Cillian teased as, slowly, but surely, he entered you and you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh god yes, fuck” you cried as he stretched you and began thrusting in and out of you almost right away after you pushed yourself against him.

‘God you are so tight’ Cillian groaned as he watched himself slide into and back out of your pussy. His cock was shiny, coated with your natural lubrication as he began to fuck you and, soon, his thrusts became harder and faster.

‘I feel so full…This feels so good…’ you moaned as ecstasy came in quick hot waves as the stranger pumped into you and you began to moan louder than before. You experienced an uncontrollable urge to howl that you could barely hold back and the stranger then suddenly gripped you as tightly as he could manage.

You both used every muscle in your bodies to create one living, writhing creature rather than two. Eventually, you cried out too loudly though and the man took you with the deepest most passionate kiss he ever possessed as you spiralled into a lazy heap.

‘You are taking my cock so well…’ the stranger groaned after a while and then he lifted upward, prompting you to raise your knees off the bed.

‘Fuck’ he continued on as he pressed into you again and you lifted your legs completely in to the air. He grabbed your ankles and held them in the air above his shoulders, continuing to thrust with the same speed and energy as before. Bringing your feet closer together increased the tightness for both of them. Spreading your legs apart gave him the entire view of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy and provided more stimulation for your clit which is when, without warning, you came hard.

‘Oh my fucking god’ you screamed and, as the muscles in your pussy tightened around his cock, the handsome stranger slowed his thrusts leaving himself almost all the way inside you. You let out a long, loud moan again and then bent your knees and pressed them tightly together, with your whole-body quivering.

He kept his swollen cock deep inside your as he felt the muscles inside your pussy squeeze him tight. He could feel several distinct strong squeezes amidst the overall tightness. Then you gradually softened before going completely loose. He rubbed your upper arms finding that they had exploded in goosebumps. He pressed his body forward as you relaxed your knees, sliding to lay himself on top of you. He kissed you first on the mouth and then on the sides of your neck, just under your ears.

‘You look so sexy when you cum’ he then said as, over the next few minutes, he mapped out a field of kisses across your neck and collar bone. He placed his kisses like stepping-stones in a slow, connected, but wandering path. Passionate. Loving. His erection was holding strong inside your warm pussy, but he hadn't moved his hips at all and you began to kiss him back, first slowly, then more rapidly. He felt your knees lift off the bed as you slid your hands down his back, grabbing his butt. Even though he was still completely inserted, you pulled him tight against you. You were ready for more.

“Can you cum again for me?” he then asked but you weren’t sure. You never came more than once, so you doubted your ability to cum a third time.

‘I don’t know’ you admitted, but the stranger smiled.

‘Well, we will see, won’t we?’ he teased before pulling out of you after all

"I want to fuck you from behind. Common” he then said as he sat up on his knees and you rolled over and positioned yourself on all fours.

His cock had softened slightly while you had stopped fucking, but it was now back to being fully erect. He watched the tip bounce slightly as it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. It looked and felt thicker than usual.

‘Fuck, look at this pussy of yours. You are soaking’ he groaned as he put his cock in his hand and positioned himself behind you. He angled himself downward to meet your inviting pussy and then he pushed in, with one single thrust.

He felt as though he was able to penetrate you more deeply in this position and, with each consequent thrust forward, you shrieked as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against him, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

The pleasure was overwhelming and, every time you were about to cum, he teased you and slowed his movements.

You had both hit a plateau where everything seemed sensational but you could not last much longer.

"Fuck me hard. I want to cum again” you gasped and so he did. You requesting him to fuck your harder had provided that extra bit of stimulation that was ultimately too much. In an instant, he shifted from feeling like he could last forever and was now into impending orgasm countdown. He wanted to hold off long enough for you to cum together, and he was suddenly very close. But so were you. Again.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he groaned as he spread his knees a bit wider so he would be lower, and his angle of penetration would rub closer to your clit.

“I am so close again” you then moaned as he also shortened his thrusts so the head of his cock would come completely out of your pussy and then only go about half-way back in. He let go of your hips and bent over to cup your breasts while kissing your back.

‘Then let go for me’ he groaned as he, too, was about to explode and raised his torso back up and pulled himself completely out of your pussy.

The air of the room felt cold against his cock compared to the heat from inside you. He used his hand to rub the swollen head of his cock up and down against your pussy lips teasing you, but you pushed backwards and engulfed him again.  

"Fuck me hard," you repeated, almost yelling.

"What's that? You want me to fuck you hard?" he asked, pulling out again.

"Yes," You answered with a moaning voice. "Please."

"With this?" he asked, tapping the head of his cock against your pussy.

"Yes. Fuck me with your cock. Hard and fast” you gasped and, with that, he roughly pushed back into your wetness, spearing you on as your mind bubbling orgasm overwhelmed you.

You suddenly screamed, shivered and convulsed in orgasmic bliss and it was when you fully gave into him, that Cillian reached his high as well, filling you with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ he groaned as he thrusted back in. His shaft began to throb and he felt himself spurt once as he thrust in, then again as he pulled back. He continued to feel pulses of his orgasm come faster than he could fuck you now but you were past it. You were at your peak and the sensations of your pussy changed again, prolonging your orgasm, as he pushed through his own load inside of you. It was a fantastically satisfying feeling. As the pulsing continued, he wondered how much cum he was leaving inside you. It felt like a lot.

‘Jesus. God. Stop please’ you moaned as it became too much and he slowed down. His cum had leaked down his shaft and was covering the entirety of his cock, your pussy and its lips, pushing out on the sides of your tight hole as he finally withdrew from you.

After he pulled out, some streaks of your combined juices poured out of your slit and onto the sheets which, for some reason, felt incredibly satisfying.

‘Now this was not how I had expected tonight to turn out’ Cillian then said as he looked down on you with even more lust after you collapsed onto the bed, still panting and with your legs spread. Seeing his achievement aroused him all over again and he took his fingers to spread the lips of your pussy apart to get a better look.

‘Me neither’ you confirmed just as Cillian pushed two fingers into you and, you couldn’t help but shriek for which he appeared delighted.

When he pulled them out, they were covered in cum and you looked at him and yourself before reaching for his hand and guiding it to your mouth.

‘Jesus, really?’ he asked surprised as you stuck out your tongue and licked his fingers clean.

‘Really. I wanted to see what you taste like’ you winked and, just as you had sucked your combined juices from his fingers, he kissed you again passionately, tasting you and himself on your lips.

‘You are in for a long night’ he then warned you and you could see that he was already hardening again which certainly surprised you for a man in his mid-forties. He was clearly eager to make the most of this one-night stand and so were you.

With that, you both rolled out of bed and made your way into the shower for round two and then returned to the bed for round three.

Round four and five then took place in the morning and, after hours of passionate sex, a lack of sleep and Cillian cooking you some breakfast, it was time for you to leave.

‘Will I see you again?’ you asked as you were about to head out of the door. You hoped that he would be giving you his number after the amazing night you had shared but, unfortunately for you, he was true to his word.

This was nothing more than a one-night stand for him. He was not interested in dating again, nor was he ready to date anyone just yet. He told you this and that, in his opinion, you were far too young for him, though he did not even know your real age yet.

You accepted his position and kissed him once more before leaving his apartment, somewhat saddened by the fact that he did not want another date with you.

All you knew about him was his first name and the fact that he was incredible in bed. You knew that you would never see him again and, with this in mind, you soon returned to your old habits.

Over the next week, while pondering on about the handsome stranger you’ve met and shared a night with, you got back together with James. Much to the dislike of your friends, you were stuck in a cycle again and could not break it. James, once again, had a hold on you and after yet another argument with him, you made your way to Drama School on Monday with some bad temper and anger.

You enrolled into a new class and rocked up late and somewhat unprepared while your two friends were already waiting for you, in the hall next to the lecture room which is where you had to sign in.

‘Guess what?’ one of them said but you were too tired and depressed to take guesses. You were up all night again, in tears, as James was keeping taps on you and this was something you did not like.

‘I am not in the mood’ you thus said while looking through your schedule.

‘We have a new teacher for our practical work and he is fucking hot’ Lorraine said, while your other friend rolled her eyes.

‘He’s not that hot’ she said, sighing while looking at you. Clearly, you were not listening.

‘God, did you even watch Peaky Blinders?’ Lorraine then asked you both without getting an answer for you.

‘No, should I have watched it?’ your other friend then asked.

‘Yes. It is a brilliant show. He is brilliant. Hot and single’ Lorraine said like an eager little schoolgirl.

‘And old’ your other friend pointed out.

‘Y/N hooked up with a mid-forty-year-old guy a week ago and she said she had the best sex ever, so don’t knock it before you have tried it, isn’t that right Y/N?’ Lorraine teased but you did not respond. You had other things on your mind until, suddenly, you saw a familiar face in the distance, talking to the principal of the drama school.

‘Y/N?’ your friend then said, nudging your shoulder but all this did was make you drop your books. Your mouth stood open, gaping, as your eyes followed the principal and her companion.

‘Y/N! What’s wrong with you? Did you see a ghost?’ Lorraine laughed and you sure did.

‘Something like that’ you said while pointing to the principal and the handsome stranger by her side.

‘That’s Cillian Murphy. He is our new prac teacher’ Lorraine giggled and then you dropped your coffee too.

‘Fuck’ you said.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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