#But again. I am not complaining about it.

[athenajbrooks]

Here's one from Lucioden the Warbringer's POV:

"AITA for trying to liberate my home country from a pathological liar and murderer?

My (26M) former friend Abrahath's (26M) dad is the leader of the new country his father founded, Aldea. He announced his retirement and decided to set up a new system of government and place whoever the people wanted as the first king. Abrahath and I were both candidates. Abrahath had always been a bit of a prideful prick, so he assumed he wasn't going to have competition. He complained, I told him to be a good sport about it, and I thought that was the end of it.

Then one night, I saw him leaving his house with his dad, who looked to be not in the best of health. Sure, the guy was old, but something about it didn't seem right to me, so I followed them. I watched Abrahath toss his own father to a pack of demons outside of town.

I was outraged. I confronted him the next morning. Two days later, my beloved wife went missing. My precious, darling Muen was never seen again. It broke me.

This time, I made sure to confront him at midday in front of the city hall so I had an audience and told them everything.

Now, here's the problem: Abrahath was a prideful prick, but he was also really good at putting on a show. His whole life was a string of good deeds done solely to bask in praise. Only I knew him well enough to know it was just an act. He spun a convincing cover story. Most of the people sided with him. They called me power-hungry and exiled me.

Now, let me reiterate: I did not murder my own father and cover it up. I did not create a spell to turn innocent people into demons and punish my enemies with it--because, oh yes, that's what he's doing now, so I hear. You know who did all that? Abrahath. And yet, somehow I'm the bad guy here?! Somehow Abrahath is more suited for the throne than me?! Give me a break.

I don't hate the people for that. They'd been manipulated and brainwashed, which isn't their fault. In fact, I decided that since I knew the truth, it was my responsibility to break the spell, so to speak. So, I traveled up north, started my own settlement, and...well, I'm thinking of preparing for war, because what else am I to do? An evil king isn't just going to sit down for a heart-to-heart and give up the power he killed for.

So, I ask, AITA for trying to take over Aldea?"

One of the comments would be: "This is BS. I was there. Sotalbin sacrificed himself willingly to keep Aldea safe. As for OP's wife, there's absolutely zero proof Abrahath killed her. Also, OP forgot to mention he made a pact with the demons recently to help him kill as many people as possible."

To which Lucioden would respond, "I know what I saw. As for the pact, my friend Xijikh pressured me into that decision. I was not in a good place at the time, and he took advantage of it."

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙮 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙉𝙮𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙡

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. cockwarming your husband after work

wc . around 612

tags . nanami kento. nanami x reader. nanamikentoxreader smut. all characters are above 18 years old. alternative au. non curse au. consented. sleepy nanami.18+ mdni!

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Kento Nanami is a man of routine. Every day he gives you a kiss on the cheek and you send him off to work with his lunch. Every day he deals with Gojo showing up at his workplace and bothering him nonstop. Every day he tells Majorie that the printer location has not moved in the last 20 years and it’s the same place it’s always been. And every day he clocks out at 6. Not a minute later. He loves it though. He loves the thoughtfulness of the lunches you prepare him. He loves the sweet messages you leave during the day, asking him how he’s holding up. He loves the drive home from work, excited to see you again. He loves it when you pull him into the house the second his car parks in the driveway and you start telling him all about your day. He loves how the two of you greet each other again, more calmly with kisses. He loves the dinner the two of you have. He loves the way his cock fits snuggly in your slippery pussy as the two of you watch TV. You were being needy. Incessant. Uncompliant. You just had to get stuffed full by him, it’s the feeling you were craving. So now here the two of you are, watching a poorly made sitcom as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck. Perched atop his lap and sunken down onto his thick cock, warming it.

“Stop moving s’much. You said we didn’t have to do anything, just sit like this.” He complains, his words smushing together and coming out as a drag.

“We are just sitting like this.” You inform him, wrapping his arms around you as you attempt to focus on the story line of the show. This is something you’d planned out. You knew what you were doing when you started this. You knew he wouldn’t say no to this. And you also knew that one movement too many would get him to want to fuck you. It was all a part of your plan, which he has now caught unto.

“For now, till you start wiggling then that’ll make me wanna come and then I’ll have to move which is what I don’t want to do. I feel sleepy.” He murmurs, taking slow and long blinks, attempting to keep himself awake. He nuzzles his head in the crook of his, closing his eyes.

“Aww my pussy’s putting you to sleep.” You coo, taking a finger and playing flicking his lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended.”

“You should just stay still.” You can feel his voice through your body.

“How about,” you begin, swivelling slightly to get a better look at his face, “you just sit and I’ll do the moving, gets the job done. It’s a win win situation.”

“Not a chance. You’ll quit soon and then you’ll start whining that you’re too tired to carry on and finish the job you started. Then I’ll have to muster up energy to move, which I do not have. So until further notice, we’re staying like this.”

“For a man who’s oh so tied he is talking quite a lot.” You huff, pinching his nose, instead, he attempts to swat your hand away.

He blinks slowly and both of you watch TV. Then his hands start rubbing u everywhere and slowly. Then he starts kissing your jaw and the side of your face. “Good you make me feel good though.” More kissing and stuff then he’s like “Who am I kidding?” And he stands up places your back on the couch and fucks you.

[gojoskiikufuku]

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗧 ✰

Summary: “I'm wearing a miniskirt— But why are you the only one— Who doesn't notice?”

You're trying to charm the school's most popular boy along with his other admirers— can you?

𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: Basketball player!Satoru Gojo

𝗖𝗪: female reader intended, reader is trying to seek for Satoru's attention/approval, jealously, self doubt, low self esteem, Gojo avoiding reader like a disease at some parts, Satoru gives you mixed signals, hurt, Mild playboy energy. 𝗖𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀, Suguru scolding Satoru after acting weird to reader, mild Shoko x reader, lots of smacking from both parties, dirty minded reader.

Part 1 → next..

It was just said it's the universities welcoming of a new semester tomorrow. The athletes and the ones who are going to perform we're handing out their cards— promoting themselves or their group. You had collected almost everyone yet only one poster caught your eye— Satoru's group, formed with Suguru, Choso, Nanami, and Sukuna.

You held the poster in your hands, watching in awe. Then suddenly— “Ouch!” you yelp as you brace the back of your arm, the card falling from your hands as you continue to wince in pain. You just know that, that smack was personal.

You frown before a white haired man enters your perspective, apologizing yet doesn't even sound sincere!— mostly because he keeps giggling after, probably laughing at your face. You can't help but frown at him, "WHAT IS EVEN WRONG WITH YOU!" You can't help but yell at him, he doesn't even answer, leaving with his friends immediately. You try your best not to sob your anger out, the poster long forgotten as you run back to the dorms— running to Shoko.

"Shokooo..." You whine, rolling on your top bunk, "what is it again?" You hear Shoko groan, her fingers rapidly tapping on her phone screen repeatedly. "My back still hur-" she cuts you off by clearing her throat. "I'm not massaging your back, dumbass. Who even smacked you that hard?", "I don't 'nowww..", "then don't complain, I'm not a detectiv-"

you cut her off too, "no, do you not care about me anymore, shoshokoko?" You purposely whine, "I do," she pauses, her tone lowering as she gets seriously invested in the conversation. "but you're kind of acting stewped right now, do you get me?", "WHATT??", "yes, now please, shut up."

"Hmph, Shokooo." She drops her chopsticks on top of her bowl, "Whaaaaaat?" She mocks your whining, eliciting a groan from you. "I now remember who smacked me." You proudly grinned, "a white hair, and as tall as the Eiffel tower.", "get specific.." she glares at you, "and he kind of looks like the one in posters.. he looks good." She doesn't reply, the silence deafening, "Shoko, can you at least talk?"

"No. You have a crush on someone's grandpa, am I right?" She finally talks. Her hand grasps on the cold glass of water beside her, taking sips. "No, how on earth would someone's grandpa smack me so hard, and why would he wear a jersey-"

Shoko spits out her water, looking at you in disbelief, "Shokooo, that's disgusting!" You grab a tissue, "shut up, no actually, shut up. YOU MEAN THAT SATORU SMACKED YOU?" She draws a hand over her chest, acting like a sick Victorian child.

"Who tf is Satoru??" You continue to grab tissues, cleaning her mess. "His hands as heavy as foook, no wonder why you keep saying it hurts!", "Shoko!, you're describing it like it's dirty!" You shoot the used paper in the trash bin, a scowl visible on your face. "I'll tell you, I have a lot of things I know about that menace." You think she's sarcastic yet the seriousness in her tone says otherwise.

It's now the morning the welcoming starts— instruments spreads throughout the whole campus, starting a melody— a horrendous one in your opinion— Shoko agrees. 7AM on the dormitory rooms clock yet the peace had been disturbed by some cheers.

You groan, laying on your side as you grab a pillow to mask your uncovered ears— trying to mask the annoying music. "You know, girl— you should get up now-" you cut her off, "noo, I wanna sleep, it's too early." You whine. "7am isn't even early, get up and take a bath.", "are you telling me I stink?", "no, but you need to freshen up, dumbass.."

"11AM," Shoko answers your question, "at 12PM, another parade happens with majorettes.", "damn it, when will the players play?," "the basketball ones?", "yeah", "around 7pm." You glare at her as she casually answers, "what's your appropriate reason for waking me up at 7AM.." you managed to keep your cool, a sigh leaving your lips as you frown. "Get that scowl off your face, you're going to get wrinkles." You feel pointed out, smacking her behind her head— gently yet forcibly. "You're offending me, dumbass." You punctuate.

Someone yells just behind where you and Shoko we're sitting. "Yo!, What's up, Shoko!?" A man's voice rang out making Shoko — and you, who is a little bit curious. "It's the white haired man!" Shoko immediately glares at you, a chuckle eliciting from you nervously.

"Oh damn, I didn't know you were friends with a fine shyt- ouch man, what's wrong with you..?" You hear him yelp, your eyes darting to meet the man behind him— long black hair, and is almost as tall as the one with white locks, he smiles at you before dragging the other with him. You look at both of them, the black haired one seemingly scolding the one with the white locks. "What's wrong with them, Shoko?" You can't help but ask, you turn your head to Shoko, finding her leaning close to you, you jump. "Dumbass, there's dust on your hair" she casually reasons. "Then remove it appropriately!", "you're thinking dirty.."

A/n: I feel like this sucks

@byerno6 @ctmaw @luna-night27@nxgiswife @haruhatake@missroro @drowninginhiscxm @honeybubblepopp @kazupop @rav3v4mp @boothillglazer @ultgojo @Kittieto @peachhiz @soul-trivia @fredjas @I30nya @gorgeousgust @feralfortojidotcom @byakuya61085 @00-meat @levislug @penguingirlanzu @n1vi @urrvso @moonchhu @ravenbc @stxrlingpearl @sunariin @yourfavbunni @artist1936 @doechiiyz @anonnieghost @hello-its-squishymingi @ultgojo @itzkawaiix @mikulvs @bkgnotsuma @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh

[soonyoungs]

how about some writings for hansol eating you out and spitting on it..? 🫣

ఇ vernon and gn!reader

ఇ warnings: smut! not proof read! written while sleepy!

ఇ wc: 401 ♡︎

ఇ notes: i’m so sorry this took forever! thank you for being so patient, i hope you like it 🥺

(2:21 am)

“so nasty,” you say to him with a scrunch of your nose, as the sound of his spit hits you.

he’s raising an eyebrow at you as moves in to continue is work, sucking you into submission. “but it feels good, doesn’t it?”

you’re quick to ignore his question, hating to admit he’s right, especially now. you bring your hands to his hair and bring him back to where he left off. with a small chuckle he begins again, bringing his fingers to your clit, rubbing the wetness around - teasing you, before spreading you apart and spitting on it again.

“vernon,” you all but holler “you’re making a mess”. he knows you’re complaining, but he also knows this is exactly how you like it. before you can continue chastising him, he’s bringing his fingers to your entrance and ghosting the opening. with a buck of your hips he slides his two middle fingers in and alternates gently sucking on you and giving you small licks. after feeling you adjust to him, vernon is leaning over your core like a man starved, pumping his fingers into you with vigor and lapping up your juices with frenzy. 

you’re seeing stars as he continues working you closer to your high. “vernon,” you whine in warning. all you see is vernon’s eyes shift up, locking in on your own as he begins sucking you for all you’re worth. you throw your head back and groan out his name.

vernon takes the opportunity to remove his fingers from inside of you and place your thighs on his shoulders, lifting your bottom from the couch you were planted in. with your pussy eye level with his face, vernon dives back in, lapping at you, drinking all of the juices continually spilling from you. gripping his tighter you begin to warn him of your approaching high, there’s a small vibration of acknowledgment against your clit that throws you into a dazing orgasm.

not slowing his pace, vernon continues sucking you through your pleasure and only removes himself from you when your legs start to shake with overstimulation. raising his head from between your legs, he raises a hand from your thigh and wipes some of the mess you made on his mouth bringing it up to his lips to clean it off. “ew,” you say, your head lulled to the side, eyes watching him intensely “so nasty.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XL)

Chapter 40 : ‘Where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Alright, things can’t be perfect all the time, let’s spice things a little bit…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2408

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets

It was kind of ridiculous how stressed you were about this.

After all, you had already met Andrew’s parents once, and they were nice. Really nice.

Still, for your first encounter, you were a friend of Andrew’s… not his girlfriend… Yeah, that was why you were so nervous now. What if they thought you were nice while there was nothing but friendship binding you to their son, but now that you were more than a friend to him… what if they changed their mind about you? Besides, you had never met his brother Jon. Maybe he wouldn’t like you at all…

You were surprised at how relaxed Andrew was, though. He had been so worried when he asked you to come over to his parents for dinner, but now that you were getting ready to leave, he seemed to be nothing but merry.

At least, his shenanigans brought smiles to your face.

“Stop it! God, you’re insufferable…” you complained, playfully pushing his hand away as he started poking at your ribs again. “Babe! It tickles and I’m trying to get my hair done!”

“Your hair looks perfect already.”

“It’s not…”

“Kiss me… please… please… please… kiss me…” he stressed each demand poking your shoulder.

“God…”

You laughed, turned your head so he could kiss you. But then he kissed you again, and again…

“I need to finish getting ready, or we’ll be late.”

“We can be late. I’m always late. They’ll worry I’m sick or that their son was replaced by some kind of clone if I don’t arrive late for dinner.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I want to make a good impression.”

His smile grew from playful to tender.

“They already like you.”

“They barely know me.”

“They like you.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t panic.”

“No! I’m not! They like you!”

“I’ve never met your brother, he can’t like me.”

“He does. I talk his ears off about you, and he likes you already.”

You couldn’t refrain a smirk.

“You talk about me all the time, huh? Someone’s a little obsessed…”

You expected a scoff, or something of the kind. But Andrew nodded.

“Of course, I am. How could I not be obsessed with my gorgeous girlfriend?”

You shied away as you put your hairbrush down.

“Alright, I’m ready to go.”

You called for Elwood, and he came running into the hallway, happily moving his tail as you scratched his head.

“We’re going, buddy! Come on!”

But Andrew stopped you, holding your hand in his so you would turn to him again. He was smiling.

“I’m really happy you’re doing this, honey. Thank you, for everything.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by everything. It sounded like you were doing him a favour, when… you were the grateful one for letting you into his life.

“There’s no need to thank me for anything…”

“There’s a need to thank you for everything.”

He kissed you before you could protest, a long, tender kiss that made you lose track of what you wanted to say.

Andrew loved you so fucking much.

He knew that he had an idiotic, adoring look on his face when he turned to you having this simple thought, but he couldn’t help it.

You were eating your meal, complementing Andrew’s mother on her cooking, and he recognised that happy glimmer in your eyes, the one you had whenever you ate something truly delicious. In all fairness, Raine’s cooking was delicious. He watched as you sipped on the beer John had offered you earlier, making you laugh as he paid his debt.

And you fitted so well in his life, in his home, in his family. You listened as Jon talked about his next project, this short film he was preparing, and your interest was genuine when you asked him a question.

Andrew lost track of the conversation for a moment, as he stared at you, a stupid smile on his face. Seeing you like this, in this house where he had spent most of his childhood, where he had gathered so many happy memories, where he had lived such challenging parts of his life… this home that meant so much to him… and it felt so right to have you here, being a part of his world…

You turned to him, laughing, something teasing in your eyes, mischief painted all over your features. God, he loved you, he loved you so much…

“Hmmm… sounds very interesting indeed, Jon,” you nodded, and Andrew forced himself to listen to the conversation again, because of how dangerous your tone was.

“I’ll get the pictures,” Jon offered, and Andrew’s eyes grew round.

“Don’t you dare!”

“You were so cute as a child,” Raine argued, clearly torturing her son on purpose, and Andrew glowered at her.

“Mom…”

“I want to see the photos,” you added.

“Nope. Absolutely not!”

“Why not? I’m sure you were adorable.”

“I was not.”

“Actually,” John intervened, “I think we still have the tape of that concert, you know the one…”

Andrew stopped breathing, looked at his family in horror.

“Absolutely not!”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, and Andrew narrowed his eyes at your excitement.

“There was this one time Andrew sang in public… that didn’t go so well,” Jon explained.

“No…” Andrew moaned, and he knew you were struggling not to laugh.

“What happened?”

“My balls dropped,” was his only explanation, and you were gone in a fit of laughter.

“At the worst moment,” Jon laughed as well. “That timing…”

“It was horrible,” Andrew shook his head, but he struggled not to laugh too. “I started to cry, and had to wait for an adult to come and remove me from the stage.”

“No…” you breathed, your laughter gone and a sadder look on your face now. You reached for his arm. “I’m so sorry, that must have been terrible.”

“Yeah, it was awful…”

“What did you do after that?”

“I had to do it again the next day.”

“Oh no!”

“I did well though. On the second try.”

Raine looked around at the empty plates left on the table, had a mischievous smile of her own.

“Well… I think you two should show Y/N some pictures, while Andy and I clean up the table and get everything ready for dessert.”

“No… Don’t show her anything too bad…” Andrew groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Come on! I want to see what baby Andy looked like,” you insisted.

“I was horrendous as a baby.”

“Of course, you weren’t. You were a baby, you had to be cute.”

“I wasn’t. I was terrifyingly ugly.”

You shook your head with an amused smile.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

Raine stood up and you were stirred away from the table by Andrew’s father and brother, who were determined to show you old photographs of your lover. And Andrew pretended to argue, but he didn’t really mind. He was entertained by their shenanigans more than anything else.

He and his mother cleaned the table, and he was loading plates in the dishwasher when Raine turned to him with a bright grin.

“I’m really happy for you and Y/N, Andy,” she confessed in a quiet voice, to which her younger son answered with a bright grin. “She truly is lovely… Smart, kind, funny…”

Andrew’s heart fluttered at her words, he averted his eyes to hide his blush and the grin he couldn’t refrain.

“Yeah… she is,” he nodded.

“And you seem happy with her.”

“I am. I really am, mom.”

“I knew she’d be good for you… when we met her at your reading session, the other day… I just knew. I knew she’d give you the kind of love you deserve.”

“Thanks, mom…”

“How serious is it, then?”

Andrew took a second to answer, to gather his emotions into coherent words. He thought about downplaying it all, about hiding how much he truly felt for you… but Raine was his mother. He could never hide anything from her…

“It’s… it’s pretty serious, yeah.”

She looked at him, expectant. His heart grew warm as he thought of you.

“I… it’s very serious,” he nodded, his voice quiet, one of tender confessions. “I really want this to work. She’s… she’s amazing, and… I’m so happy with her. And I… I love her. Like… I was already in love with her before we actually got together. And I… I only seem to love her more and more every day. I… I keep on falling in love with her again and again, and I don’t really know how that’s possible, like it seems endless even though I already have so much love for her, but… yeah… She’s the real thing, that’s for sure. I… I love her so much…”

Raine grinned, something emotional glistening in her eyes, rested a soothing hand on her son’s arm.

“Your heart chose well. She’s amazing. Your father and I appreciate her a lot, already. And it’s obvious Jon is taking a liking to her too.”

“I’m glad.”

She tilted her head.

“But?”

Andrew heaved a sigh, she could always read him like an open book…

“But… I’m worried sometimes… like… I’m worried that my relationship with Sam could slow me down. I’m… I’m worried that I might fuck this up because of it…”

Remnants of your fight flashed before his eyes.

“I’m just… I’m worried. I’m scared, too. I’m scared she’s going to leave. I’m scared she’ll realise she’s too good for me…”

But his mother shushed him.

“Don’t let these thoughts hold you down,” she admonished. “Y/N loves you dearly, it’s obvious. You simply need time to adjust in this new relationship, to accept that this is how you’re supposed to be loved. You’ll make it through that struggle, I know you will. You just need time. And so does Y/N.”

Slowly, he nodded, trying to believe her words.

“I just… I’ve never felt like that before, even with Sam,” Andrew confessed, looking at dirty plates he had already set in the dishwasher, although he couldn’t see any of them. “That’s… overwhelming.”

“It means you truly love her. It means that’s the kind of love that’s truly worth fighting for.”

A knock on the kitchen door startled them both, and you appeared carrying empty glasses.

“Just so you know… Jon has found the tape,” you chirped happily, while Andrew’s eyes grew round and he blushed in embarrassment.

“I’m going to kill him…” were Andrew’s only words before he exited the kitchen, but he couldn’t refrain a smile as the sound of your laughter mingled with his mother’s.

You left his parents’ home late that night, you were sleepy and let Andrew drive you home. You were still merry and full of love, and Andrew adored the sight. You had promised Raine and John to come again at the next family dinner, in two weeks. Andrew could not have been happier…

When he pulled over before your building it was past midnight already. He waited for you to kiss him goodnight, but you lingered in his car.

“This was a lovely evening. Thank you again, for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“I really like your family a lot. They’re so nice. It’s obvious where your kindness comes from.”

“Thanks.”

You reached for his hand.

“Stay with me tonight.”

Andrew chuckled.

“Tempting offer, but I’m too tired for anything to happen. And I have a reputation I’m trying to uphold. Can’t disappoint you so quickly in our relationship.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I meant, for sleeping. Like… sleepy sleeping. Not sexy sleeping.”

He hummed, refraining a laugh, but you spoke again. You looked adorable like this, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, tenderness putting a soft smile on your lips. And the touch of your fingers upon his was gentle, grounding.

“I like that. Falling asleep beside you. Please, stay.”

How could he say no to such a plea?

He turned off the engine, and you grinned at him.

He followed you outside his car, inside your building, in the elevator, in the corridor, in your hallway, in your bathroom, in your bed. He let you guide him in these places that already felt familiar, he knew he would have followed you anywhere. Wasn’t that crazy? To love someone so deeply? So soon?

You snuggled into his side as soon as you were both under the covers, as soon as the lights were off. In the darkness, he could only hear and feel your presence, in the rhythm of your quiet breathing, in the dip of the mattress under your weight, in the warmth of your body holding his in a safe embrace, in the gentle squeeze of your hand around his fingers.

He closed his eyes, let your nearness draw him to the verge of sleep, but then your voice came from the darkness. In this bed with you, he wasn’t so sure where his body ended and yours began.

“I heard you talking with your mother.”

Andrew’s eyes snapped open.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just carrying empty glasses to the kitchen, to get a refill for your brother and your father. But I overheard your conversation and… I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt. I… I feel a little bad about it.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” he conceded, although he felt uneasy knowing you had overheard his confession.

“I… I love you, Andy. I love you so much. I… I feel the same as you do. And I’m… I’m also really scared that this is not going to work. But I trust you. And I know that you’re better than Frank. It might take a little time, like your mother said, but… I want to believe that we can love each other the way we deserve.”

“I’m going to love you the best I can.”

“I know. And I will do the same.”

He kissed your hair, heard the quiet breath you let out as your body melted against his.

“And… honey?”

“Hmmm?”

“You do deserve me. You’re such a good person, Andy… you’re amazing. I’m already happier with you than I’ve ever been with Frank. Don’t be scared of that, okay? I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too. And I’m happy with you as well.”

The promise he made you was one he knew he could never break.

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything at all.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: yeah…

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your work is cursory. There’s really no need for you to be there Monday to Friday but you won’t complain for the pay check. Or the repetition. You prefer habit over spontaneity. When you took on the job, your biggest concern was the unpredictability. 

That day, the house is empty as you work. You’re relieved. It’s easier to just do you sweep through, mop a bit where needed, dust surfaces that are still clean from the day before. It’s not as tedious as when you need to keep conversation with your hovering client. 

As you empty the crumb tray of the toaster, your peace is punctured. The front door opens and closes and you hear Steve’s voice. He’s not talking to you, if he even expects you to be there. 

“Sam, yeah, I don’t know,” he sounds agitated. “I called him. Didn’t pick up for me either. Shoot.” 

There’s a silence as he listens to the other end of the conversation. You slide the tray back in the appliance as you tip toe around. You collect the errant crumbs from the counter top.  

“My shoulder...” Steve groans. “I know, I know, you told me--” 

You’re half-startled as Steve appears in the kitchen door, his shirt pulled up to his chest, crooked as he has one shoulder free of it. He freezes as you face him cluelessly. He clears his throat. 

“Uh, Sam, call ya back.” He hangs up and nears the island, setting the phone down. He pushes his arm back in his shirt and pulls it down, covering his muscled stomach as his eyes drift away bashfully. “I didn’t hear you.” 

“That’s fine,” you assure him. “Finishing up.” You go to the bin and dust off your hands over it. You let the lid shut. “Bag’s only half full, I’ll take it tomorrow.” 

“No problem,” he says. 

You’re quiet as you gather up your cleaner and cloth. You bring it all to the door as he heads in the same direction. You both stop right at the threshold, unsure of the other. 

“Hey, uh, so... everything okay? Anything I can do to make your job easier?” he asks. 

The reply that flickers wouldn’t be very nice. You’re sure it would be much simpler without him always asking you that. Still, you have to appreciate his concern. Another girl in the agency told you about how her client barely says a word. Of how nervous it makes her.  

Steve makes you uneasy in a different way. Is there a such thing as too nice? You’ve been told you’re too pessimistic so surely the pendulum can swing in the other direction. 

“Everything’s fine,” you assure him. 

“I try not to leave too much mess,” he says with a smile. 

“Right, that’s... good. Thanks.” 

Slowly, you inch forward. You squeeze past him into the next room. Despite your efforts to shrink, you still manage to brush against him. You swear his fingers tickle just along your thigh. You don’t linger to think about it. Or rather, overthink it. 

You put your things in your kit and give a once over. His shadow looms in the kitchen door as he watches you. Again, you get the sense that he might have control issues. Some people just can’t let go of the steering wheel. 

“Hey, uh, I got an odd request,” he steps forward before you can return to the entry way. 

You pause and step back to face him, “alright?” 

“I was training this morning,” he reaches and rubs his shoulder, “you know, I think I stretched something and I can’t quite reach--” 

You blink as your brows draw together. He’s not asking you to do that, is he? 

“I know it’s kinda weird. You can say no,” he keeps his hand clamped around his muscle. “It’s just tugging the back of my neck like a fish hook.” 

“No,” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “No, I don’t think I can do that.” 

“Ah, yeah, obviously,” he chuckles. “You’re just the maid. It’s probably against the rules, huh?” 

You stare at him, fighting not to let your expression curdle. That’s very strange. This is strange. If anyone knew that Captain America was this socially awkward, they might not be star struck by the golden mane and shining shield. 

“Yep,” you say. “Uh, anyway, I think I got everything.” 

“You know,” he crosses the room as you flit out into the entryway. “I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t really hurt. I just, you know, I’m here alone. Don’t really have anyone else to ask.” 

“Sorry about that,” you shrug as you zip up your jacket. “You could try a masseuse.” 

He crosses his arms and stands over you as you pull on your shoes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” 

You stand up and go to grab your kit. He bends too, coming so close, you feel his breath. You look up and your noses nearly touch. You recoil and rip your hand away, knocking the bucket so the long duster and the roll of paper towels spill out. 

“Oh, uh, you surprised me,” you bend to gather up the roll and duster. 

“No problem, just trying to help,” he towers over you as you slowly straighten. You gulp and reach for the handle of your kit. 

“That’s nice of you but I think I got it,” you put your hand around the plastic, right next to his, but he doesn’t let go. You hug the armful of supplies as you tug lightly. “Really, I got it.” 

He yanks back so you’re forced closer to him. Your skins speckles and stings with sweat. You bat your eyes up at him. “So, you spend all day cleaning, you must get sore. What do you do?” 

“Erm,” you narrow your eyes as you feel his grip tighten on the kit. “A hot bath, I guess?” 

“Hot bath...” he echoes. “Sounds nice.” 

“Maybe some epsom salts,” you suggest and try to wiggle the bucket. “Steve, uh, I gotta go.” 

He nods, “you gonna have a hot bath?” 

Your chest feels clogged as you try not to falter. You’re not overreacting. He’s being... a lot. 

“I got another job,” you utter. “Please...” 

Your voice cracks without meaning to. You stare up at him and his brows rise slightly. He lets go of the bucket and smiles. 

“Sure, sure, you work so hard,” he turns his palms out then firmly braces his hips, striking that classic Cap pose. “I hope you get that hot bath.” 

You put the towels and duster back in the bucket and hold it with both hands. You grit your teeth and back up. “See ya tomorrow.” 

“See ya then,” he winks. 

You hurry for the door and he follows. You almost feel like he’s chasing you. You feel foolish for that thought as he pulls the door open and lets you out. You don’t look back as you flee. Can he see how uncomfortable you are? Does he even care? 

You’re starting to think this might not be a control thing. Not in the way you thought. 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Who's the Dad?

Prompt Day 31: Midnight | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Modern AU, Established Steddie, Middle Age, Steddie as Parents, TikTok Trend, Platonic Stobin, Corroded Coffin Guys, Goodie Doesn't Want to Hold That Baby, New Year's Eve Fun is Different When You're Older

"Why am I holding this baby?" Goodie asks, taking Betts from Robin and awkwardly holds her up in the air under her arms. Looking right at her, as if he's willing her not to cry. 

She doesn't, but Betts is highly suspicious of this arrangement. 

Goodie is too, apparently. He might cry first.

Eddie laughs, "That's your niece. Act like you've met before." 

They're gonna have to set this to music, and hope the lip-reading lady doesn't come along and expose them.

Steve is recording on Robin's phone, falling victim to another tiktok trend, but he can't wait to see if the internet can guess who her dad is. Especially since she has two. They're kind of cheating, but that just makes it more fun.

They pass her to Jeff next, and Jeff does better, but grins as he passes her back, "I think that I might be the obviously incorrect answer." 

Eddie laughs, "Adoption, man. Lots of options. Just act cool."

Steve's not sure any of them can be cool. Not anymore. They're too old for that.

"Why are we doing this again?" Goodie asks, hovering behind Jeff, as if he's scared he might be handed her again.

"Because we're bored. And old. And if we want to stay awake for midnight to ring in the new year we need to be entertained for the next four hours," Steve explains.

New Year's Eve isn't as wild as it once was, that's for damn sure.

As soon as Gareth walks in the front door, Steve is filming as Robin immediately hands Betts over to him. Gareth takes her with one hand, gripping her little thigh as he holds her securely to his side. 

Then he looks around at them looking at him, "Why are you all looking at me?"

Everybody just laughs.

Betts isn't paying much attention to Gareth, but she's used to him. Gareth's girls are older, and he's definitely been hands-on to get his baby fix from a kid he can hand back when she starts to cry or needs a diaper change.

Eddie gets his turn, making her laugh and Steve thinks it's very cute. Then Eddie takes the camera for Steve to have his. Betts pays exactly no attention to him, preferring to look over his shoulder at everyone else in the crowded house.

Then they keep moving: Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Jonathan, Argyle. The video's gonna be ten minutes long at this rate.

Robin posts it, the clock strikes midnight, and Steve doesn't think anything of it. Not really.

But when he wakes up in the new year, they've gone viral. Really viral. Thousands of comments are full of guesses, some right, some wrong. And lots and lots of thirst that's spread around to all of them. It's…a lot. It's a lot.

Eddie's already scrolling through them before Steve's even found his glasses.

"Why do they think Gareth is her dad before they think it's me?" Eddie asks, indignant. 

"They don't not think it's you. There are lots of offers to birth your baby if she isn't yours," Steve argues. And there are. Some of these comments are filthy.

"Everybody thinks it's you, and if not you, then Gareth," Eddie says, still complaining. 

He's not totally wrong. 

"They only think it's me because they've dug through Robin's profile. They're cheating," Steve says.

"No, they think Betts looks the most comfortable with you!" Eddie says, and Steve is afraid this is gonna turn ugly, quick. She wasn't uncomfortable with Eddie, she was being entertained. Of course she was looking at him.

Steve needs to diffuse this, but Eddie keeps going, "Elizabeth. How could you?"

He's so dramatic. Steve loves him, but it's too early for this.

"You were making her laugh. Of course she was gonna be looking at you," Steve suggests, trying to keep this from becoming an issue.

"Well, what about Gareth?!" Eddie says, shrill, poking at the screen of his phone.

"Gareth has kids. They had twins, Ed. He's incapable of being uncomfortable holding a baby, it was beaten out of him by overexposure. He could hold two babies at once. One is nothing."

Eddie laughs, but Steve can tell his feelings are a little hurt. They shouldn't have done this, but it just seemed like silly fun. Especially to see the uncomfortable ones, like Goodie and Mike, struggle to look like they've ever held a baby before.

Some of the guesses for Steve were because she paid no attention to him. He's old news. But a lot of them honestly were people digging into Robin's profile, seeing that he is heavily featured, but not watching the videos to see that they are best friends, not a couple.

Yeah, she was comfortable in his arms, and had no reason to check him out to make sure she wasn't gonna get dropped on her head. Gareth had the same vibes.

Eddie had decided to entertain her, and the audience, and that certainly worked against him. It charmed everyone, and Betts was clearly comfortable with him, but they weren't sure she was his, because of it.

"They think she looks like you," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, "Well, we all know that's not true."

Eddie finally laughs, the crisis averted, and rolls closer to Steve. Steve wraps his arms around him, pulling him in tight.

Betts starts crying through the monitor on the nightstand.

"I think you should go, as her favorite," Eddie says, burying his face into Steve's pillow. 

Yeah, yeah. He'll take one for the team. Eddie gets today to whine about this, but that's all. That's it.

Steve stands, and throws a t-shirt over his head, and heads for the bedroom door, "That's fine. I'll go continue to woo her to my side. As the favorite."

Eddie lays there for a second, and when he finally processes it, he says, "Hey! Wait a minute!"

And Steve just laughs as he closes the bedroom door behind him. This will fix itself by noon. Guaranteed.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

Notes: If you've seen this trend on tiktok it is generally pretty easy to tell who is the dad! I think the secret is don't look at who the baby looks like, look at how they're being held and if they are curious about the situation they've found themselves in, lol.

[thetxtdevil]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ New Years Event ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Firework View

Jay x Reader

synopsis: You were not in the happiest mood after a bad day at work on New Year's Eve. Irritated by Jay, who was dragging you up the stairs of your apartment building, you find out why he wasn't returning any of your calls.

content: NSFW/MDNI, smut, angst if you squint, bf.top.jay, bottom.fem.reader, business worker reader, slight fingering, dick stroking, referencing temperature play, no protection smh, p in v, let me know if I'm forgetting anything :)

word count: 1.8k

devil's note: What's this... I am an Enhypen writer now?!? Happy New Years my demons! I am honored to have collabed with the lovely @jakedustry and @hmusunoo check out their fics of the other members.

Your feet ached going up the many flights of stairs in your work heels. The concrete walls trapped the outside’s cool air in, this part of the building was a stark difference from the cozy warm lighting of the main apartment building. “Jay, why couldn’t we use the elevator?”

“Because the elevator doesn’t go up here.” You huff at his answer. You don’t know where your boyfriend is dragging you or why he was ignoring you all day. Jay stays quiet throughout the climb, leaving you in your thoughts. 

It was New Year's Eve, and you had work. You shouldn’t complain because you had Christmas Eve and Day off, but it wasn’t fair getting out of your warm bed with Jay still sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful, having no worries about work today or tomorrow, that it made the sting of jealousy rise in your chest. But alas, you shimmied your way into your knee-length skirt and button-up dress shirt, ready to face the business world. 

Not even a few minutes after you clocked in and sitting at your desk you get a text message from Jay, “What time are you coming home today?” You smile thinking he was already missing you and you reply to the planned time you’re supposed to leave. Of course, the universe seems to not be on your side today, Jay never responded, assignment due dates were being changed, and work was piling up. You look at the tiny numbers on the corner of the screen showing ‘4:30 pm’ You groan knowing that it was past your scheduled time to clock out. Your fingers harshly card through your hair, becoming more stressed looking at the piles of papers and the many tabs on your desktop. You were going to be there for a while. If that didn’t stress you enough, your silent boyfriend made it worse. No sign of a reply from the morning, and no sign of checking in. Every once in a while Jay would text you to see if you were well, especially on his days off. He would always find time to get food and eat with you during your break. You don’t expect it every time but you thought it would be different since it was a holiday, but nothing, just a simple “read” notification.

Nicely putting the papers in their designated folders, making sure all documents were saved, and the emails were correct and sent, you rush to log out and turn the desk lamp off leaving you in the cold darkness. Typing a message to Jay on your way out of the building, your heart jumps hearing a “ping” soon after it is sent. Rolling your eyes at the simple, “sounds good,” your overthinking habit flares up, wondering what in the world he was up to. After the decompressing ride to your apartment and the sight of the tall handsome man you call your boyfriend, your anger melted away. However, it wasn’t long until that same anger came back with Jay tugging you up the last few steps showing you the door with red print, “Rooftop Entrance.”

“Jay I’m tired and cold,” you pant as you once again card your fingers in your already messy hair, “I’ve been working all day, and not to mention your ignorance.”

“I know, I know-” Jay tilts his head towards the door hiding his crooked smile. He was not proud that he ignored you, it hurt him desperately, but he had to keep today’s activities a secret. Texting you would for sure make him slip, but he was debating if he should’ve told you since you were working late, and he now had you rushing up all the apartment fire escape stairs. “I have my reasons, but it's outside.”

You furrow your eyebrow, and your aching feet take a few steps toward the door. Looking back at your boyfriend like he was crazy, you turn the handle opening to a warm atmosphere. Your eyes were big, and every single fairy light reflected on your teary orbs. Expecting to be hit with the winter’s brisk cold weather instead you were engulfed by the hot fireplace crackling by cozy patio chairs. Jay wasn’t too far behind you, a content smile was displayed on his chiseled face looking at your reaction to his work. Spinning around the rooftop, grasping every sight of the place, your lips smack as you try to find the words. “Did– did you do this?” You breathlessly get out the words.

Jay scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, I talked to the building’s owner about it and he said he’s been wanting to do something with the empty place, so that’s how I got permission to do this.” His hand releases his nervous scratch when he sees you walking towards him. You bring Jay into a big hug. He asks, “Do you like it, honey?”

“I love it,” you lift your head to look into his chocolate eyes, “but I don’t like you ignoring me.”

Jay frowns, “I’m sorry, I just wanted this to be a surprise and-” Your lips crash into his, shutting up his unnecessary ramble. Jay quickly accepts his fate and lets his words be forgotten as he deepens the kiss. 

His hands latch onto your waist massaging your tired muscles. You moan into his mouth, instantly relaxing into his arms. At that moment you knew there was nothing to be worried about with your boyfriend, thankful that you have him here in each other's arms. Then you feel his grasp inch lower to your ass and squeeze the plushness. His kisses drift from your lips to your jawline, down to your neck. Tilting your head back to give him more room to explore, you hum at the light kisses and love bites he leaves. Jay’s exploring hands loosen your tucked-in shirt making you shiver at a gust of wind flowing up your torso. Then he tugs at your skirt, bunching it up so that your panties are the only thing covering your cunt. You’re quick to hold his arms, stopping his movements, “Wha-what are you, we can’t do that here!”

Jay groans, his pleading eyes made you want to give him the world, not to mention the hard-on poking you. “No one knows about the rooftop. You didn’t.”

You bite your lip, glancing at the bland entry door and then at the cozy patio set up Jay built. Weighing your options you whip your head back to the man, “Fuck it, and fuck me.”

The biggest smirk spreads on your boyfriend's lips, a screech leaves your lips when all of a sudden Jay picks you up. Both of you giggle as you cling to him, you forget how strong your boyfriend is even though you remind him how big his muscles are. Plopped down on the couch cushion you take the moment to observe your surroundings. Above you was Jay with darkened eyes, something you’ve seen plenty of times yet it still makes your stomach do summersaults. “Was this your plan all along?”

He kisses your lips while unbuttoning your top, “I wanted a nice place to celebrate New Year's,” he says in between kisses down the valley of your breasts, “but you’re always so tempting.”

Lifting your body to help Jay unclothe you, you unbutton his top as he unhooks your bra resulting in a relaxed sigh. Garments being thrown without a care as to where they land, his lips find your perky nipple fueling the fire inside you. You instinctively close your thighs only to be stopped by Jay’s broad body in between them. Grinding against his clothed hard-on, all you could do was moan mindlessly under the man’s body.

Jay’s hand wanders down in between your thighs rubbing your cotton panties, playing with the lacey hem. “Mmm, don’t tease.” You whine becoming more desperate bucking your hips up.

His fingertips follow the lining hooking the material before dipping his middle finger within your folds, “Shit, baby, you’re wet.” Heat creeps on your face, and a cool gust streamlines between your bodies, causing your nipples to perk up and your cunt to ache. Jay straightens his posture and releases his fingers. You whimper, admiring his honey-skinned torso as he licks his fingers of arousal clean. The crisp air of the night makes your whole body shiver as he nicely tugs your panties off. The half-naked man leans down lips coming together like a puzzle piece passionately kissing. Your hand then drifts down his lightly toned abs before unzipping his trousers, grasping his hard cock. A shaking gasp spilled into your mouth signaling you to continue your actions, lightly stroking his veiny shaft and thumbing his pink tip.

“Baby, baby,” he sighs, his big hand stopping your smaller one around his dick.

“Aw- always so sensitive,” you smile at his face, a light layer of sweat glowing from the fairy lights above.

“Maybe this new year I will do better.”

You smile, “sounds like a lot of fucking,” Jay holds back a giggle to your statement, lining his tip at your gushing hole, slowly pushing in. Soft sounds disappear into the atmosphere, slightly wincing at the stretch from his thickness. He admires your contorted face, already looking fucked out as he dives deeper filling you up. Then Jay finds that spot that has your mouth gapped and fingernails digging into his biceps. Jay wants to follow apart at the feeling of your pulsating walls but you feel, look too good to end it so soon. The man above you speeds up his thrusts making sure he hits your G-spot every time. Melody of moans escapes your lips as your lower belly tightens in pleasure. Each drag of Jay’s cock had you wanting more, you lift your hips trying to match his rhythm. However, Jay wanted you just to relax and take it. Lifting your legs over his shoulders, the new position felt deeper, more addicting. Jay starts pounding into you like an animal, watching you lose it, tits bouncing, head tilting back, eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was beautiful to him, making it more beautiful as he decorated your skin with his love bites. You lift your hand to the nape of his neck, combing your fingers through his dark strands while your other hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing it hard to reach your climax. “I-ah, I’m close,” you sigh with ecstasy, Jay nods his head in agreement, releasing his harsh grip on your thigh and replacing your hand on your sensitive button with his.

The dark blue sky was now blinded by white as you came around your boyfriend's cock, soon feeling him painting your walls white. Jay collapses on you, kissing your neck calming you both from your highs. Everything was peaceful until your heart felt like it jumped out of your chest hearing a loud crack, opening your eyes, past the warm lights you see colorful twinkling sparks shoot into the night sky. Jay lifts his head watching the fireworks with you, amongst the booming sparks, distant cheers are heard all around you. Looking at your Jay’s phone on the coffee table it shows 00:00.

“Happy New Year’s, Honey”

Yours Cruelly,

Enhypen's Lucifer

taglist: @izzyy-stuff, @biteyoubiteme, @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[gold-onthe-inside]

count the odds

who? spencer reid (s8) x bau!reader summary: you reflect on the past year at rossi’s annual nye party, which brings you back to your relationship with spencer, and all the different ways your lives could’ve gone, and the odds of you both finding each other. content warnings: none, really. slight mention of r being distant from her family, kissing

There’s something about the BAU that blurs the days together - the long hours and late nights. You’ve stopped living day to day and in bursts of three days, sometimes five if the case requires that kind of time. You sleep when you can, if you can. Some holidays you can’t escape from. Valentine’s is enthusiastically celebrated by Penelope, dressed entirely in pink and white, clasping a box of chocolate covered strawberries that she’s only too happy to feed Morgan. You fear when April comes around, Derek and Spencer’s childish insistence on fooling the other putting you on edge so much that you spend the day in Penelope’s lair.

Easter’s a new one, hosted by JJ and Will, which is really more an opportunity for everyone to day-drink while you and Spencer entertain Henry, Michael, and Jack as they hunt for chocolate eggs in the park, scrabbling on their hands and knees like dogs trying to remember where they buried their bones, and dragging the two of you along to help them. At one point, Henry insists that Spencer lift him on his shoulders like Derek does, just so he can search a tree, no matter how hard Spencer reasons that the Easter Bunny would never hide them that high up because bunnies can’t climb trees, but there’s no fighting a 4 year old’s will.

Halloween is the one Spencer looks forward to all year, the day he sheds any pretence of professionalism, and you’ve never cared much for the holiday since you met him - you’ve always dreaded the spike in crime rates that time of year. You don’t clock the year passing you by until then, and your heart always squeezes when he insists on spending his favourite holiday with you, but everything blurs together after that. Your family knows better than to beg you to come around for Thanksgiving and Christmas, too many years have passed for you to be any more than a distant relative who they call on birthdays. Even that has dwindled to a text lately, and you don’t particularly mind - you’d have quit this job a long time ago if it mattered that much. You have more peace of mind now, and the sting of disappointment in you has long since faded.

Instead, you sit across from Spencer in one of Rossi’s spare rooms, to get away from the noise and the hubbub of his party. In truth, it felt like any other day, Spencer trying and failing to get you to play any kind of game that you know he’d win for sure — “There’s no fun in it when you’re better than I am,” you protested.

“But the only way to get better is to play,” Spencer replied, a slight whine in his voice, slender fingers shuffling cards.

“My ego can’t take it,” you said, pulling your feet up. “Can’t we just play Snap?”

“No way, my hand went completely red last time, you get too aggressive,” Spencer complained.

“Crybaby,” you retorted, smiling at him teasingly.

”Said the abuser,” he replied, just as quick, but he indulged you anyway, starting to divide the stack between you. “I swear, if you hit my hand, I’m never playing this game with you again.”

”It’s hardly intentional,” you said, taking your stack. “You’re just slow.”

He does his best to not smile at you giddily, he just can’t seem to help himself. There’s something about you that makes the time pass quicker, that lifts his mood, makes him feel like he’s floating on air. He likes watching the way your brow furrows in concentration, the way your skin glows under the soft light, so he’s already losing the game, not providing you much competition. He supposes that’s the other reason you always win at fast-paced games. By the time he actually registers the matched cards, you’ve already slapped it, his stack growing larger as you both play. It finishes far too quickly for your taste, and you’ve lost interest, letting him reshuffle the cards. He watched you lean back in your seat, your gaze on his hands.

“Do you think in another life you would’ve been one of those casino dealers in Vegas?” you asked, and it’s something that’s crossed his mind before. If he didn’t have the IQ he did, if he hadn’t gotten into CalTech when he did. It wasn’t a thought he liked.

”I hope not,” he said.

“So, then what?” you asked. “A cowboy?” You remember overhearing his conversation with JJ, about owning some farmland and a couple of cows, which was ridiculous to you. He was far too obsessive over personal hygiene, and the lack of libraries would have horrified him. For a brief moment, you wondered what he might look like in a Stetson.

“Not realistically.” He focused on dealing the cards, trying to ignore your gaze, feeling like an insect under a microscope.

“You don’t think about all the different lives you could’ve led?”

“I used to,” Spencer said honestly. “But I kind of like this life.”

”What changed?”

You swear your heart stopped when he looked at you. “You did,” he said plainly, like he hadn’t just reached into your chest and wrapped his slender hand around your heart.

“Oh,” you managed to get out, picking up your cards while checking your hand wasn’t shaking, putting the scrambled pieces of your brain back together as you sorted your cards. It was a habit of his that was gonna give you a heart attack one of these days, how he’d say something so earth-shattering as if he was telling you the time.

“I mean, that’s how it works, right?” Spencer continued casually as he sorted his cards. “If the slightest event in our timeline had changed, we would never have met. So, in a way, the odds of us being in this room at this moment playing cards exactly as we are in another universe are so slim… It’s infinitesimally small. A butterfly could flap it’s wings and we wouldn’t know each other.” He looked up, familiar hazel eyes on you while you focused on your cards, trying to regulate your breathing. “You okay?”

”Uh-huh,” you managed, tucking hair behind your ear, staring at your cards. “I think I’ve forgotten how to play gin.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out if you’re acting strange, and if you are, why. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in the faint blush that rose on your cheeks. As he watched your gaze remain fixed on your cards, he realized what he’d said. It’d completely flown over his head – he was just stating a fact, after all. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“Oh, you so are,” he teased, setting his cards down and looking at you properly. You were usually unflinchingly quick, making him dizzy trying to keep up with the quips, so to see you blushing and fumbling was a rare sight. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. It was a new look on you, one he wanted to catalogue and study.

”Just… shut up and show me how to play,” you said.

He picked his cards up again, holding in a smile as he looked down. “Alright, I’ll go easy on you,” Spencer said, not looking at you as he rearranged his cards. You watched as he started to lay his cards down, explaining the rules as he did. He was being particularly patient, you observed, more patient than he needed to be, and you were sure he knew that you understood how to play. You just needed a distraction from the current rush of feeling in your body as you slowly recovered from his previous words. If he knew what kind of effect he had on you, he would be insufferable. You let him rattle on, nodding, trying not to focus on the shape of his mouth or the smooth timber of his voice.

And then you can hear the cheer of the countdown outside, the rest of Rossi’s guests, including your team, all gathered in his backyard, Derek and Will setting up the fireworks, and you pulled Spencer to his feet to watch from the window. Spencer stood next to you, his shoulder pressed against yours as you watch everyone gathered outside, counting down until midnight. A smile tugged on his lips, and he caught himself staring again as the countdown grew closer. 10 - 9 - 8 - He could almost hear the thrum of your heartbeat, 7 - 6 - 5 - He leaned just fractionally closer to you.You felt the shift of his body next to you as his shoulder pressed against yours, and you wondered if he did it on purpose or if it was subconscious. You glanced over, breath catching in your throat at how close he was to you. 4 - 3 - 2 - He could feel the heat from your body, just a breath away. You kissed him first, warm and soft, the whistle of the fireworks followed by a crack as loud as a gunshot, brilliant lights scattering over the sky.

A gasp escaped his throat as your lips met his, the familiar feeling of your body against his making him dizzy. He didn’t have a chance to react much before the loud boom of the fireworks rang out, the sound like music in the background of his chaotic thoughts. He’d kissed you before, he’d done more than kiss you before, but it still took him a moment to realize this was happening. His hands went to your jaw, pulling you closer to him as he responded, a shudder running through him.

You pulled away for breath, your hands at his waist, looking up at him. “Happy New Year,” you murmured, smiling.

He still had one hand on your jaw, breathless, heart trying to burst out of his chest. He was staring down at you like he’d never seen you before, taking in the way your skin glowed in the reflection of the fireworks, the shape of your lips, now pink and slightly swollen from the impact of the kiss. “Happy New Year,” he replied in a whisper.

[funkyfaerie]

once again I am complaining about weight loss drugs being sponsors. every time I see the wegovy ad an angel loses its wings

[moutainrusing]

soft

575 words, @rosekillermicrofic

Class was boring, so Barty flicked his best friend in the forehead and muttered under his breath, just loud enough so that the other students around them could hear and gossip about it later, “Heard you went soft, Rosie.”

“Soft when?” Evan shoved Barty away, trying to focus on what he was writing. Algebra.

Barty smirked twistedly, “While you were inside—”

Evan pressed his pencil into the book harshly, “No one, I was inside—”

“And that’s why she broke up with you,” Barty finished smugly.

Finally, Evan dropped the pencil and looked up from his work to glare at him, “Can you stop making up rumours—?”

“Who me?” Barty clutched his chest in faux-innocence. “I’d never. You’re my ride-or-die, Evan. As in, I ride you or I die—”

“Thought I’m too soft,” he scoffed, picking up his pencil.

“Nah, you’re always hard in me,” Barty leaned back in his chair to watch him.

“Must be painful,” Evan snarked, writing again.

“I’ve gotten used to it,” Barty swung forward.

Evan made a face at his scribbled maths. “Wait, how long have we been—?”

Barty gasped, “You don’t remember?! I’m calling quits.”

“Two break ups in one day,” Evan shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he got out an eraser. “How am I coping?”

“Botox,” Barty blurted, staring at his face.

“Figured out my secret,” Evan muttered, concentrating intensely on erasing his botched-up maths, scrunching the paper while he did so.

“It’s a botched-up job,” Barty hummed, crossing his arms.

“I’m switching surgeons,” Evan casually brushed the rubber crumbs off his ruined page, looking pleased at how he’d fixed his mistake by rubbing it out. Barty wanted to laugh at him.

“No one could fix your face,” he pushed.

Ignorantly, Evan played into Barty’s fabricated game, “You used to fuck me, what’re you complaining about?”

Grinning, Barty said mournfully, “Don’t bring up bad memories. The wound’s still fresh, we broke up today.”

“I’m glad,” Evan said shortly. He wrote something down and added, “You’re skanky.”

Barty wasn’t sure if he was addressing him or the algebra. Either way, “Rat.”

“I’ma set my man on you,” Evan continued glaring at the maths.

“Already got a new man?” Barty raised an eyebrow. “Slut.”

“Misogynist.”

“You’re the one feeding into sexist beauty standards.”

“Don’t shame the plastic surgery.”

Barty could feel the eyes of the kids behind them flicking between their conversation like they were watching a sitcom. He bit back a grin, “What if I liked the way you looked before?”

Evan glanced up at him as if he was weird. “I still look the same. I didn’t actually—”

“Good.”

“What?”

“You okay about the break up with Celeste, yeah?”

“She didn’t break up with me ‘cause I went soft,” Evan deadpanned.

“I know. But you’re cool about it?” Barty checked.

Evan paused. Leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear so that no one could hear, “I broke up with her. I let her say that it was her choice.” He shrugged and went back to trying to understand the algebra, which they both knew was a pointless endeavour. Evan never grasped any concept until they went home and Barty showed him.

Barty stared at him for a moment. Nudged his shoulder, “Why did you…?”

Evan shrugged him off. He was blushing. He liked someone else. Another girl, Barty thought. He pushed that thought away, cooed, “Aw, Rosie.”

Evan blushed harder. Barty felt nothing.

[wishfulsketching]

What a year, huh.

I'm not going to talk about how everything is going to shit in the real world, that's not what this post is about.

I can remember that before Gotham, I had a bit of trouble trying to get inspired about art. I did end up doing a lot of original art due to that, tho. Gotham was the nice return to a hyperfixation that got me back to creating, which felt like a saving grace tbh. I draw A LOT, you may have noticed. I thank my ADHD for that. So, when I'm unable draw I do struggle spending my time in any meaningful way.

I also started reading again this year. Murderbot Diaries got me by the throat, I love those books so much. I've also liked T. Kingfisher's books so far, haven't read that many yet, tho. I also read in english, not the translated versions, so it's a nice way to "use" my english skills.

I finally started needle felting this Christmas! I've been meaning to do it for yearsss. Bunnydog was my ever first attempt, Slowpoke was my second.

Arcane season 2. Woohee, I had totally forgotten when it was going to drop! It was a good thing tho, I was saved from a lot of painful waiting around, hah. I might've chickened out of the Zaundads fandom back in the day but it's so much more chill now. Well, kind of. I do see people complain a bit in the tags. Plus I bet it's a lot worse in other sites. ANYWAY!

I feel like that in this short time after season 2, I've gotten better at art and got my groove fully back. I am so grateful for people who just keep being so nice and support me here adsfsdfo! I said it back in 2021/2022 I think but I'll say it again: zaundads fandom has been one of the nicest fandom I've been part of. (I have to mention tho, so is riddlebird fandom)

I'm still a bit overwhelmed with all the attention I'm getting, I admit, but I am also so happy I get to share my unhinged love for this stupid little man.

My next year will start with job hunting and balancing my mental health (I've been "in recovery" for years, it's gonna be a adjustment to start working. I am still very much struggling but not as much so I have to find a job that doesn't kill me in a month lol).I've also made one new years resolution which is that I will more actively display and live my preferred identity and not just go "eh whatever, I know how I actually feel like so". Not gonna be easy because I get embarrassed about everything and will want to backpedal so hard at the start but uhhh...I'll try not to? Eh.

Yea. So a lot of new things for the next year and I already feel tired. But hopeful!

I'll end this post by randomly sharing my fave CJU gameplays because his gameplay vids always help me to relax:

I couldn't find the playlist so here's PART 2 and PART 3. I really love the story in this one.

A game I expected nothing from and now rewatch this playthrough ever so often. PLAYLIST

Love the game, love the commentary, love the vibes! PLAYLIST

[selfshipgushing]

hey guys! I just wanted to remind y'all of some things

number 1, please don't vent in the inbox. as stated in the FAQ, complaining like "auhg today was shitty" and "saw a double kinda upset" is fine, but otherwise pleasseee don't vent. /nm this is a gush account and I wanna keep things positive if that's okay :]

and number 2, uh, this is gonna sound very Strange. but I am blacklisting talking about getting your f/os pregnant. some of them I know they're jokes !!! I know this. but I've gotta a large handful that are. certainly. not jokes. and are NSFW. jokey jokes are one thing I don't really care but uh. I think I'm gonna put a blanket blacklist on this because. sometimes I cannot tell what is a joke. and what is not. so. not much else to add. again I'm not mad and if u made a jokey joke and aren't blocked there's no issue here but the ones who have been outright just gross have been. and for now on those asks are not allowed. says me.

also number 3, this was something I wasn't gonna mention because I delete these asks when they crop up but no shit talking other people's f/os!! I got one ? last week? and I feel like I should remind yall of this. no asks about how, "I saw that someone posted about x f/o and even tho I actually hate them so much and can't fucking stand them, good for them :) they suck btw" or even the shit I got a while back in here for my own husband !!! leave !! why send anon hate to a gush box I fear you are dumb !!!

anyways. I'm not angry or anything I just want to remind. please be mindful of the rules <3 I've had to delete so many asks lately.

[wrathofrats]

Super late night Christmas gift for @purlty23

700 word of t4t Dewther scissoring featuring weed, intox kink (kinda), squirting, creampies (kinda), being weird about body hair, yeah. It’s just high Dewther scissoring as god intended

“Take what you need droplet” aether practically cooed, letting out a stream of smoke from his lips. One hand rested on dews hip, the other carefully bringing the joint up to dews mouth trying to coax him to inhale once again.

The fire ghoul was already probably considered fucked up. Eyes drooping, vision blurred and tunneled, solely focused on rutting his hips as hard as he could into aethers, dragging his cunt along his little tdick as if it were a grinder. His hands looked almost small on aethers waist, palms digging into his soft flesh while he tried to keep upright.

“Shit-“ dew coughed, sputtering a bit on the exhale and waving the joint away from his lips. Aether could feel the way his cunt spasmed around his cock, fluttering as he moaned with every bit of friction. Slick dripped down his skin, inevitably soaking the sheets below them. Dew still had that small amount of water magic in his system, impossibly wet when touched the right way.

Neither knew how long they had been at it, aether took another deep inhale letting his head fall back against the pillows. The rhythmic pleasure in dews movements were almost hypnotic as he let him use aethers cunt till his heart was content. One of Aethers thighs shoved against his torso with dew leaning against his leg to get the perfect angle to make his eyes cross.

Dew let out a pathetic whine, smoke making his brain feel like a pool of static electricity. His memory came and went with what he was doing, accidentally edging himself as he tried to stay focused long enough to make himself cum, before inevitably forgetting and letting himself leak more onto the sheets. Aether was no help, simply watching the show in front of him and only lifting a finger to feed dew more to see how useless he could really make him.

“Suck firefly, come on and finish it off” aether held what little was left to his mouth, trying to avoid flicking ash on to their skin or the sheets. Dew inhaled deeply with a small whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he let the smoke linger before exhaling it to the side. He wobbled slightly, nails digging into aethers flesh so he wouldn’t topple over completely.

“Gotta- aeth I need to cum please”

“Well I’m not stopping you am i?” Aether chuckled, smashing the joint into the ashtray. Dew looked like he could cry, tired and sensitive as he tried to chase his high with clumsy uncoordinated movements.

“Help me” dew whined, strung out and needy. Sometimes if he complained enough aether would just take the situation into his own hands, calling him dumb and useless in such a sweet voice the degrading barely registered in dews brain. But there was something more fun about this, about watching him hopelessly struggle against his own lower tolerance.

“You can do it baby, so close aren’t you? Or do you even know anymore?”

Aethers voice was soft and condescending, something made dews stomach tie up in a tight coil of heat as he grinded his cunt down further. Part of him thought he could feel aethers cock Inside of him if he moved just right, slippery folds sliding against each other with such debauched wet sounds that if dew was any more sober he would be blushing.

“Think so” dew was shaking, desperation fueling his movements as he thought more and more he could tip over the edge “need it aether please- tell me to cum”

“Cum inside me droplet,”

Dews eyes rolled back as a gut punched whimper escaped the back of his throat. His jaw shook, breathing heavy as he rode out his orgasm. Slick gushed from his cunt, coating aethers cock and running down his folds from where they were still punched together. Dews hips rolled as if he were actually trying to fuck it into him, almost instinctual in nature.

When he finally came back enough to swing his legs off of aether he noticed the mess that he left on him. Hair that littered his cunt and thighs stuck down and shiny with dews release, enough that enough was easily running his fingers through it, using it to pull at his own little cock.

[look-at-the-soul]

That’s the way it is

Cillian Murphy x reader

Word count: 2,615

A/N’s: ah this has been in my drafts for a while so I thought of finishing it to post it and clear my WIPS 🥰✨ I hope you like it!

And last but not least, I want to share a quote I came across the other day, in the middle of rush hour, in the middle of a hurry… and it made me stop on my tracks and stare at those words for what seemed like an eternity. “If it makes you happy, it doesn’t have to make sense to other people.”

You sighed as the document showed you the saved message.

“Y/N! Are you available?” Your boss texted you just as you had finished your work.

“Yes, everything alright Kian?” You asked right away. But before you had the chance to lock your phone, she called you.

“I know you asked to take the day off tomorrow, just wanted to check if you’d be able to save us for an interview?”

“Well I took the day off to arrange everything for my moving.”

“Let’s do this, you get the day off any other day you want and you don’t even have to register it in the system, if you say yes, you’ll keep your full holiday.”

You bit your lower lip debating how to organize everything.

“I had Craig for this interview but he had something personal coming up and isn’t available.”

“Alright, I’ll do it.” You agreed

“I know you’ll do a fabulous work darling, just like you always do.”

“Stop the flattering.” You joked. “So, what time should I see you at the office?”

“Oh no, you’re going to Dun Laoghaire.”

*****

Your heart had been beating so fast since last night when you heard you’d be interviewing Cillian Murphy, an Irish native, the man of the moment as some media called him. If anyone asked in Ireland, he was considered as a national treasure.

And he was for so many reasons.

Googling his recent work last night, you realized some of the comments of how he didn’t do photos, or how a lot of people mispronounced his name, he wasn’t a follower of trends either and answering the same questions over and over again made him uncomfortable.

You thought you had prepared enough material for this project. That’s why you arrived at the place your boss instructed you earlier to set up everything. But nothing prepared you for that ocean stare when he arrived holding his dog’s leash.

“Hello I’m Cillian.” He introduced himself and greeted you with a kiss. As an assistant informed him he’d attach a microphone to his jacket, he couldn’t help but joke. “You look a bit different, Craig.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” Y/N smiled and then bent down. “And who’s this.”

He nodded and whistled at his dog. “This is Scout.”

Greeting his dog with your hand you chuckled and explained Craig had some personal matters to attend. “Heard you couldn’t reschedule.”

“Yeah, there’s loads of events coming up.”

“You don’t sound excited.” The wind blew his hair.

You were surprised how he didn’t ask for an stylist or someone to assist him.

He looked down. “Don’t get me wrong, I am… but I’m not at the same time, it probably doesn’t makes sense.”

“I’ve never attended any, so…”

His hands were suddenly hiding in the pockets of his jacket. “You aren’t missing a big deal.” Then he laughed nervously. “What you must be thinking, what’s he complaining about? It’s just it’s a lot to take in, someone is always telling you where to stand, where to look, what to do…”

“We’re ready.” The camera guy approached you.

“Give me a minute.” You asked, looking at him, then you turned to Cillian. “Don’t worry, it’s not my job to judge anyone. I’m just here to have a chat.” You smiled at him.

That seemed to make him feel at ease with you as he started talking about the multi awarded film. He was sharing lots of personal insights of his preparation for this role in a way that made you feel as if you were having a conversation with a friend you haven’t seen in a while. He made you forget about all the questions you had prepared.

“Would you say there’s a Cillian before and after this movie?” You asked stopping to pet his dog.

“I’d be a liar if I tell you no. Because in a way, there’s a before and after.” He paused for a second to stare at the ocean, it was a beautiful and breathtaking sunset. “But then, I feel like I’m the same you know?”

You contemplated the way the golden hour highlighted his features, his voice made you feel like you were floating.

“I don’t want this to change me, to get it in my head.”

“I don’t think this will, but you definitely are getting more attention lately. Has it been hard to deal with that part of the fame?”

He smiled and pointed towards some rocks and you followed him. “For a moment it was, I mean I had a very publicly divorce in the middle of filming.” He chuckled and you gasped, the only rule your boss requested was no personal questions.

Cillian must’ve sensed your nervousness because he touched your arm. “It’s alright, everybody knows about that.”

“We can edit and cut it from the final version.”

But he shook his head. “It’s all part of what you saw on the big screen, Oppenheimer wasn’t a saint, he had struggles, his own battles. Just like myself.” He added showing you a side that he had never shared before.

“How do you keep this out of your characters? How do you draw a line between set and real life.”

Cillian raised his eyebrows. “That’s a good question… I don’t know to be honest.” He looked down at your parted lips and lost track of his thoughts for a second. “When I hear the word action, something deep inside me steps back and the character emerges. But then when I go back home Mum just sends me over to take the trash can.” He chuckled and a few lines appeared around the corner of his eyes. “It’s hard to explain, you must think this is crazy.”

Crunching down to pick up a rock, you shook your head. “It makes more sense than you can imagine.” He gave you a surprised look. “To me, I feel that way when I’m writing an article.”

Apart from this, you had a weekly column in a well known newspaper both, printed and online that was quite popular. Lots of people reached out assuring you the column described perfectly how they felt.

“I read your article about finding different kinds of soulmates. It was so interesting.”

You blushed at the thought of him reading your article. “It sparkled a debate. I got a bunch of replies and letters with opinions divided, some people agreed and the rest accused me of confusing them.”

Your phone ringing interrupted the conversation, but taking a look at the screen, you knew you had to take it. “I’m really sorry, it’s my grandma.”

As you moved a few steps away to answer the call, Cillian stared at you in silence. For the past hour you hadn’t been bombarding him with hundreds of questions, you had been making him talk freely about what he loved the most, about something much more than just his job.

“Oh no don’t worry granny.” He heard you say softly. “Yes, it’s the interview I told you about.”

There was a huge smile on your lips and the sudden wind blew the scarf you were wearing.

“Absolutely, I’m sure the weather fairies listened to your prayers that’s why isn’t raining.” You threw a subtle glance in his direction, he was staring at you. “Oh, Cillian says hi.”

He winked, pleased with the positive answer you gave him on your grandma’s behalf.

“I gotta go soon, but I’ll see you on Sunday. Love you.”

“Weather fairies? That’s new.” He pointed out before whistling at his dog.

“She swears there’s a fairy in her house hiding her something, so she might put her to good use asking for a good weather today.”

“Which seems to be working so far.” Cillian stared at the clear sky, it was a surprise there hasn’t been any raining.

“I guess she’s right, I wouldn’t want to piss off a fairy tho.” You stated jokingly resuming the walk. “What are you looking forward now?”

“Some time off.” Cillian answered right away. “All of this attention is mortifying.” He laughed out loud, feeling at ease with you.

“Completely away?”

“Loads of reading, cooking, some walks here and there. Ya know?”

You opened your mouth, but decided to not say anything.

“What?” He asked fixing his eyes on you. “Boring right?”

“No, I was going to say it’s a bit shocking… you’re the total opposite of a big movie star mold.”

“In other words… boring, I know.” He repeated.

And now you felt mortified by insulting him. “No, no I mean…”

“Hey I’m just messing with ya.” His palm came to rest on your shoulder. “To be honest I’m also looking forward to spend some time with my people, being away during filming it’s a bit hard sometimes, I’m not always around for birthdays or important moments.”

“What is it a couple of things that can’t miss during your breaks?”

“Music and food. I love having people over all the time… I’m not the introvert everyone thinks.”

“You’re an extrovert with the right people.” You stated lifting your face towards the sun. Take it in.

Cillian’s eyes followed you. There was something magical on your face.

“Exactly.” He let out in a whisper.

“How is it to work with Christopher Nolan? Everyone says he’s hard to please.”

Cillian frowned. “He always has a very clear idea of what he wants, he’s brilliant.” He’d work with Chris every time if he could. “He just expects the same high level and commitment he provides in return.”

That made you think how unfair people made him look, it’s easier to say he’s very picky when in reality he’s just steps ahead of everyone and lazy people prefer to say he’s difficult. Your understanding seemed to calm Cillian.

“He’s just like his mind is always ten steps ahead,” he explained with a smile. “Would you like to see something unique?”

“What, are you going to FaceTime him?” Your eyes opened wide at the thought.

“No, he doesn’t have a phone.” Cillian admitted. “Come on, I want to show yo something.” He motioned the crew and you to follow him.

As you were walking, he explained why he chose that place, he wanted to settle down by the beach, it reminded him of the holiday home he used to visit as a child and not only that, he shared a lot of his personal favorites of the neighborhood, it was as if he took over the tour guide role, sharing the best places to grab some food and the local antiques store after learning it was one of favorites things to do.

“So… what are you doing for the holidays?” Cillian asked hooking the lash on Scout’s collar.

“Driving to Enniskerry to be with my family. What about you?”

“Ah that’s beautiful.” He would be almost three hours away from there. “I’ll be down to Cork. Also for the family gathering.”

“That’s amazing, I hope you get to have some good time.”

“After you.” He held the door open and gave you a welcoming smile.

This wasn’t scripted, never in your wildest dreams you’d have imagined Cillian would invite you over to his house. This was his safe place, so intimate, and being honest with yourself you don’t just invite someone you just met.

He was incredibly kind and offered everyone something to drink, he was constantly moving his hands and explaining how he got that painting or the vintage piano sitting in a corner… he seemed so down to earth, your mind was just so full of everything that was happening, trying to register every little thing.

“Here it is.” Cillian announced after excusing himself for a couple of minutes downstairs. In his hands he was carrying the Oppenheimer script. “Go ahead, you can hold it.”

Your fingers trembled at the contact.

Time froze for an instant as you took in the handwritten note from Chris to Cillian.

“You left her speechless.” The camera man pointed out with a chuckle.

And you were definitely out of words as you went through the pages.

“Wow.”

“He printed it on red paper because if someone tries to copy it won’t be clear. It’s even hard to read as it is.” Cillian explained with excitement in his voice.

“I hope you get this framed.” You stated still in shock to be able to see something like that with your own eyes.

There were plenty of notes made by Cillian in literally every empty space.

“Oh that is actually a great idea.” He leaned back on the sofa staring at you for a little longer. “I’m glad you appreciate it as much as I do.”

“Are you kidding me? I mean… is there anything better than this?” You held the script on your lap as if it was some holy grail.

“Can we get a close up?” The camera man walked around the reading room but you gave Cillian a glance, to make sure he agreed.

He nodded, showing you some of the words he added, little notes like open eyes, walk slowly.

“How do you get over this? Seriously, you deserve every single award.”

Cillian seemed to blush after your statement. He really didn’t know how to get a compliment.

“Well…”

“No,” you quickly interrupted him, “that’s the way it is.”

“Thank you, I’m still not used to the attention.” He let out a nervous laugh, processing your words, letting the compliment linger in his mind.

“Would you change something?” Y/N asked taking Cillian by surprise.

“No,” he answered right away. “I’d do it all over again.”

Y/N nodded pleased with his answer. “That’s good, because if you did something differently, you’d get a different result. And everything happened just the way it should have.”

“Y/N.” The camera man tried to get your attention, pointing at his clock.

“Oh my! This got way longer than we expected.” You remembered he had a family affair to attend. “Thank you so much for having us, and for sharing this unique moment Cillian.”

Cillian studied the crew members, trying to buy himself some time. “Thanks y’all for the incredible work you did.” The camera man was gone and now only the microphone guy was around. “So how does it work now, do you’ve everything you needed?”

“We’ll send it to the editor and wait for a proposal, I usually change a few frames after they do the edition and I’ll send my final version to Kian and I’m sure Craig will want to take a look first.”

“Grand.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck and bit the inside of your cheek. “I can send you the preview if you want.”

“Urm guys I need to catch the bus, see ya.” Paul the one in charge of the microphones waved goodbye.

“How about a pre-preview?” Cillian asked rubbing his arm. “Would you like to go for a drink?”

He saw a chance and decided to take the risk.

“Is this still part of the interview?” You had to ask, to see where you’d stand.

“No, it definitely has another intention on my part.” He flirted openly. “And maybe we could meet sometime between Christmas and New Year’s let’s say in… Kilkenny? Right in the middle.”

“Uh direct aren’t you?”

“That’s the way it is.” Cillian admitted.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you got to enjoy this little silly idea ✨ please remember your feedback is the best gift you could leave, it keeps the inspiration rolling 🥰♥️

Master list

Inspired by these photos from the 60 minutes interview:

Tag list: (if you want to be added/removed please let me know)

@lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @cillmequick

@datewithgianni @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells

@fastfan @stevie75 @elk96 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd

@forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @winchestergirl22 @blondie-22 @allie131313

@elenavampire21 @already-broken144 @moral-terpitude @rangerelik @imichelle-l-rigby

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989

[iwikpines]

spamming you with some of my favorite KAPT scenes for potential comics because im totally normal and not at all conceited :D (this is not me telling you to draw any of them they're just what i thought of)---

chapter five "It's not torture, it's manners"/"I'm not a stupid princess!" "You are a princess. and stupid, at that" that whole scene

chapter eight buddy kicking over deacon's mop like the petty king he is/chapter ten trying again and deacon blocks him

chapter twelve buddy finding chase and deacon on their little stealth mission

chapter seventeen jaabu mauling ravenell for the first of many times

chapter seventeen "LAND HO" "hey someones calling you"

chapter eighteen them playing on the beach and being all happy before everything goes to hell :D

chapter twenty one, at the beginning where buddy tries to show chase how to roll dough and promptly fails too and chase makes fun of him

in that same chapter the part after where chase is projecting on deacon while deacon is telling him to go do stuff

buddy saving chase from the death mittens in chapter 24/25

chapter 26 dance lessons with ravenell (failing)

chapter twenty nine sharing food and then "once upon TIME STOP GOING INTO RANDOM UNDERGROUND ROOMS---"

chapter thirty chase complaining about the previous night to deacon and deacon getting the.... VERY wrong idea

chapter thirty two chase seducing buddy armed with a trail of chocolate so deacon can read the book

chapter thirty four chase trying and failing to get through the ball doors and then buddy snarking "I am exceptionally glad i did not have to watch that happen" and the banter that follows (omg this is so long im so sorry)

chapter forty four the conversation surrounding "cat got your tongue?" "god i wish"

chapter forty six buddy dancing with chase and then promptly shoving him into the fountain

chapter forty eight at the end "ITS A WALTZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN ONE TWO THREE FOUR"

the very end of chapter forty nine if you want to draw something more dramatic?

chapter fifty seven chase having the zoomies after buddy healed him

chapter sixty two the tie scene

chapter sixty six buddy pouting that chase ignored him the previous night

chapter sixty six as well; chase sucking at cards and also making moves (hand holding) "I'm going all in!" "EGAD STOP"

chapter sixty seven really anything from their sleepy scene :3

Yes I am doing this instead of working on what I need to be doing :D

and a non-KAPT related idea:

Chase as Rapunzel, Buddy as Mother gothel, and Deacon killing it as Pascal

chapter 5 of keys are people too

okay since you asked for like... A LOT of scenes, i will be drawing and posting them gradually!! i don't think i'll do every single one of them but know that i will be doing many... thank you for all the requests <3