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denimbex1986 · 4 months

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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year

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The Season 2 Poster Details

From top to bottom :)

This is a Buddy Holly song Everyday which was originally supposed to be the Good Omens theme :)

Neil talks about it in the Introduction to the Script Book: “In the scripts, Buddy Holly’s song ‘Every Day’ runs through the whole like a thread. It was something that Terry had suggested in 1991, and it was there in the edit. Our composer, David Arnold, created several different versions of ‘Every Day’ to run over the end credits. And then he sent us his Good Omens theme, and it was the Good Omens theme. Then Peter Anderson made the most remarkable animated opening credits to the Good Omens theme, and we realised that ‘Every Day’ didn’t really make any sense any longer, and, reluctantly, let it go. It’s here, though. You can hum it.”

And there is also the Buddy Holly Everyday record! :)

Book The Crow Road by Iain Banks. The novel describes Prentice McHoan's preoccupation with death, sex, his relationship with his father, unrequited love, sibling rivalry, a missing uncle, cars, alcohol and other intoxicants, and God, against the background of the Scottish landscape

Book Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. An early and primary event in the story is the abandonment of a passenger ship in distress by its crew, including a young British seaman named Jim. He is publicly censured for this action and the novel follows his later attempts at coming to terms with himself and his past and seeking redemption and acceptance.

Important themes in Lord Jim include the consequences of a single, poor decision, the indifference of the universe, and the inability to know oneself or others.

There is book The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Its characters were based on criminals in the employ of real-life surgeon Robert Knox (1791–1862) around the time of the notorious Burke and Hare murders (1828). Neil said: Oddly enough, episode 3 will take us to a little stint of body snatching in the era.

There is Catch-22 book by Joseph Heller that coined the term Catch-22: situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules or limitations.

Is there only one hand or are there two? :) EIther 6 ;), or 6:30 :).

Through the window we can see the coffeeshop Give Me Coffe or Give Me Death where Nina works! :)

Azi is wearing his nifty glasses :).

Crowley is wearing his new glasses, they are RIGARDS X UMA WANG - THE STONE ECLIPSE (VINTAGE BLACK/BLACK STONES) - $435

There is the Holy Bible Aziraphale used in Season 1 :)

There seems to be a broken phone :).

The cakes behind Aziraphale are Eccles cakes :).

Azi is reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published in 1859, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. The novel tells the story of the French Doctor Manette, his 18-year-long imprisonment in the Bastille in Paris, and his release to live in London with his daughter Lucie whom he had never met. The story is set against the conditions that led up to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror.

Another book there is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - Neil said said that we will learn a lot about Jane Austin we didn’t know before.

And finally the Treasure Island book by - again :) - Robert Louis Stevenson, an adventure novel with pirates.

There are three geckos cuties. Who are they? Pets? Is Ligur haunting the bookshop? Who knows :).

A mysterious pamphlet, 'The Resurrectionists’ leaflet. (unofficial spoiler :)).

Also there is an old camera... mmm 🤔 Did Azi made some photos (of what? Him and Crowley, ducks? :)) Will we see them? :)

Their positions is an homage to the book covers! :)(x)

Will update this as fandom discovers new things! :)❤

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #posters #s2 poster details #fun fact #robert louis stevenson #jane austen #joseph heller #charles dickens #can't waiiiit #wahoo!

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beauspot · 9 months

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Good Omens Is a Big Deal

With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.

To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.

It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.

And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.

I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:

1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.

2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”

3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.

Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.

They love each other and it’s not platonic.

To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.

That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.

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dylanndr · 1 year

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Sometimes you're digging through an old box and run across a photo of @neil-gaiman from SDCC 1995.

This is especially curious since I wasn't at SDCC in 1995, and have never met Neil Gaiman. I believe this picture was taken by the manager of the comic shop where I worked at the time, and that he'd interviewed Neil for a segment on the comics-themed cable access show he hosted.

Which then reminded me that cable access was a thing once upon a time, and was the functional equivalent of YouTube in the 1990s. Which is to say, you *could* just set up shop if you wanted to, and mostly no one would actually watch your show except for very stoned people who had nothing better to do at 2 AM. But then sometimes well-known authors would grant you a few minutes for an interview because why the heck not, earnestness is to be rewarded from time to time.

[I'm not sure who the other chap in the picture is, but I believe he was a friend of the comic shop manager]

#neil gaiman #sdcc 1995 #cable access #san diego comic con

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crowleyholmes · 8 months

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Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!

Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!

(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)

THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK

Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)

✨ THE PLAN ✨

Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!

(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))

✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨

Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap

(It’s like a long nap or something.)

You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)

Most importantly: have fun <3

✨ THEMES ✨

(under the cut)

DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”

Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!

DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”

For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?

DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?

DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”

Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?

DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”

On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?

DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”

After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?

DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”

Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #good omens speculation #gomens #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman #goodomensedit #goodomensgifs #goodomensfic #good omens fandom event #let's manifest season 3 friends!!!! <3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable beurocracy

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fandomsandfeminism · 3 months

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Oof yall. The 2023 Hugo controversy has gotten much, much worse.

The Hugo's are another big Scifi/Fantasy book award, basically only second in prestige to the Nebulas. It's held by WorldCon, so who runs the awards changes each year- its handled by whatever group is doing the con.

And in 2023, it was held in China. And at the time, the finalist list took FOREVER to come out, and when it did, Babel (which had won the Nebula and Locus awards already) wasn't even nominated. Which everyone thought was *suspicious*

And NOW the actual nomination ballot data has come out. And not only do some of the counts... seem.....weird. BUT we've found out that not only Babel, but also Xiran Jay Zhao (who wrote the Chinese Yugioh book lol), and Sandman were disqualified late in nomination for being "ineligible" with no explanation for WHY.

The obvious explanation is Chinese censorship, either for the queer content, though other queer works were still included (including Legends and Lattes and Nona the Ninth), or some other political themes. Kuang and Zhou have content in their books that the Chinese government might not...love. but I dunno why Sandman got snubbed then? This is all speculation, but since the people actually running 2024 WorldCon are refusing to answer questions, what should we think? Neil Gaiman apparently tried to get answers and was basically brushed off.

And people are piiiiiiiissed

Mostly, I feel bad for T Kingfisher, who won Best Novel at the Hugo's for Nettle and Bone. Nettle and Bone was a great book! And now this win is always going to have this sheen of ick on it.

#hugos #2023 hugo awards #hugo awards #rf kuang #babel an arcane history #xiran jay zhao #t kingfisher #neil gaiman

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neil-gaiman · 10 months

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Hi Neil,

I know you’re a big fan of dogs and integrate animals into many of your stories. This puppy is coming home to live with me soon. He’s an Ibizan Hound, which is a type of Spanish greyhound. They run fast, bounce, and have great senses of humor. My puppy is bold, engaging, and friendly. The litter theme is names inspired by your works. I’ve narrowed it down to two sets of names and was wondering what you thought? Or if you had another suggestion? If you say it, it’s your works, right? Puppy needs an every day call name and a fancy registered name. So I have call name: Noodle. Registered name: Phantom Acires Mobius Strip -or- Call name: Crowley. Registered name: Phantom Acires Have a Nice Doomsday. Would love to know your thoughts. I’ve long been a fan and reread and listened to nearly all of your works over the past two months in preparation to name my new puppy. So it’s been such a great journey. Thank you for your stories. -Michelle

Your puppy is glorious. I'd go for Noodle because it has a consonant in the middle.

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ctinalk · 2 months

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Is Crowley already the new Supreme Archangel?

A few oversights made millennia ago, and suddenly we have a demon archangel on our hands.

Caution: I came up with and wrote this in the last few hours so potentially crackpot theory ahead. Apologies if this has been proposed before, it’s not one I’ve seen. And I’ve seen A LOT.

So supposedly the miracle Aziraphale and Crowley performed together was something only the mightiest of archangels could have done. Everyone assumes it was Crowley because they think he was a high ranking Angel formerly. Or that it was the two of them together. Or that Jimbriel amplified it. But what if…

“There is always a supreme archangel”

Michael says this in S2E1 when talking with Uriel about who is in charge now that Gabriel was missing. Gabriel was removed from office in the trial we hear, he’s no longer Supreme Archangel. If so, Michael’s statement would imply that as soon as Gabriel’s removal happened, a new archangel already existed. Now obviously the Metatron is making a show of choosing Aziraphale as the new Supreme Archangel. But is that within his power to do so? Or is he suggesting working with Crowley for a different reason, possibly unknown even to him?

“I am the only first-order archangel in the room, or you know, the universe”

During the “2nd Armageddon-that-wasn’t” discussion, Gabriel says these words. As he says them, it cuts (ominously isn’t the right word here, pointedly maybe?) to Crowley leaning against the desk, and lingers there just a bit too long.

“How do you know it wasn’t me?”

Another clue to the powerful angel Crowley was. It was clearly said in a teasing manner throw Shax off. But much like the barrel of red herring in the intro, is it a red herring to something else?

“Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?”

The only other time we see someone calling lightning or using it is, you guessed it: Gabriel in S1 on the airbase to port in and out. I’ve read the theory that Angel!Crowley was the lord of lightning, which I’m not opposed to, but to me this is another link.

“Never change their passwords”

We have one HUGE instance of Heaven being sloppy in their record keeping (passwords), and lax in their security protocol (Crowley bopping about with Muriel). Whereas Hell is meticulous in their record keeping, as shown by the bills, admissions process, and S1 contract.

So what if: when Gabriel was stripped of the title, a new Supreme Archangel was automatically appointed. Except instead of someone else, because heaven neglected to double-check their logs after The Fall, Crowley was still on the books as next in line? This would absolutely play into “God playing games with the universe” and “just think what would have happened if we’d been at all competent” themes running through both seasons. It would also follow the theory that people noticed Aziraphale and Crowley were on the “wrong” side for much of the season. It would also explain a few continuity errors along the way (how did Crowley know Muriel’s rank? He knows it through the knowledge automatically given to the Supreme Archangel).

“Funny ol’ world, isn’t it?”

Caveats and potential weaknesses:

I have no idea how this fits into the fact that S3 will be the actual continuation the Neil and Terry planned, as to my knowledge S2 was essentially a “Neil’s chaotic angsty ineffable husbands fanfic”. But clearly S2 has to play well into the plan for S3. I also kind of hate my theory because Crowley specifically declined to be an angel again, and his hand has been forced too often already.

Now I am a staunch advocate of the body-swap theory, and I’m not sure how this would play into that. Does Metatron know? Does he think he has the power to appoint? Does he think the title went to Aziraphale because of the miracle? Does he try to get Crowley to come back with Aziraphale to exploit his power? Does he know about the body swap in S1 and if so, was he trying to trigger another one to get the right “soul” to heaven?

There are a few other things I haven’t figured out how to incorporate into this post yet. I’ll try to put them into coherent thoughts in the next few days, but thought I’d throw this to the wolves universe for the time being.

Thought 1: “How have your lot managed to stay in charge all this time?” “I’m not so sure we have.”

Thought 2: I need to do (another) rewatch before I nail this one down (such a sacrifice I tell you), but does Crowley have a visceral reaction like he does in S1 to being called “good” in the current, post Gabriel-removal timeset? Obv in Edinburgh/Job, but that’s in the past. He denies it, sure (with Jim), but he straight up flashes a smile and thanks Mrs. Sandwich when she says “You’re a good lad” (after the denial).

2.1: No one calls him “good” in present day except these two instances. Vast difference in the visceral reactions of season 1 and flashbacks.

Thought 3: Crowley is the only one who can trigger Jimbriel’s recall memory.

#good omens #good omens theories #good omens season 2 #good omens s3 #good omens meta #crowley #angel!crowley #supreme archangel Crowley

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orionsangel86 · 14 days

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Death Appreciation Week!

With Dead Boy Detectives hitting our screens on the 25th April, and with our girl Death of the Endless making a guest appearance, it seemed only fitting that we should celebrate her in the run up to the show's release.

So I will be running a Death Appreciation Week from Thursday 18th April to Thursday 25th April which will be a celebration of all things Death of the Endless!

Participation is easy. You can go through the prompt list below, and choose to create in whichever way you feel most comfortable. I am keeping this event as flexible as possible so the prompts aren't tied to set days, you just go for whatever you feel most inspired by whenever you can make the time and ideally if you are able to complete a prompt of your choosing each day of the event well then you are a star and I love you!

Prompt List

Death and Family - Dysfunctional as they may be the Endless are a family unit, and their parents are even worse.

Death and Mortals - Some have won her favour, others have slipped through her grasp.

Death and Immortals - even the God's must meet her in the end.

Death and Relationships - Who doesn't flirt with Death on occassion?

Lessons Learned - Death's words of wit and wisdom.

Death the Fashionista - She's rocked many looks over the years, but she's always been a goth fashion icon.

A Day with Death - every 100 years she takes mortal form.

The Sound of Her Wings - lets not forget she has them!

"A Cold Stuck-Up Bitch" - It's a long endless lifetime - Death's early years and how she's changed.

Death Tarot - a symbol of transformation, of change, and even of hope?

Rules for Participation

All types of fanworks are permitted. Fanart, fanfics, gifsets, meta analysis, polls, even just sharing your fave comic panels or official artwork is fine. The goal is to celebrate this amazing character in all her forms.

For your work to qualify for submission to the event, it has to prominantly feature Death of the Endless as the primary focal point. Whilst I encourage exploring her relationships with other characters, the point is to highlight Death as the central character in the work.

the hashtag #Death Appreciation Week must be tagged in all works for the event.

Anything goes! I welcome all ships, all types of work, all themes and content. NSFW is absolutely fine if that's your jam. We don't kinkshame here either. So long as everything is clearly tagged you can literally create what you want.

The prompt list is just a guide for inspiration but literally any fanworks that focus on Death can be included. You don't have to follow prompts if you don't want to.

This is a love fest for Death - which means no hate, discrimination, exclusion, etc. Please also keep criticisms and complaints out of the event tag.

Death of the Author - this is my Neil Gaiman Keep Out sign. As much as I love the guy, this is a fan event and I do not consent to anyone tagging the author in my posts. If he somehow finds it on his own thats on him lol, but please don't tag him.

Most importantly HAVE FUN - and share this post. Signal Boost please!

If you have any questions about the event, the prompts, or anything, please send me an ask or a dm. I'm happy to answer anything and help as much as needed.

With love and thanks to @seiya-starsniper for the awesome banner, and @marlowe-zara and @tryan-a-bex for their ideas and support. <3

#death appreciation week #death of the endless #the sandman #dead boy detectives #fandom events

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scorpiussage · 8 months

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The Robin to My Batman (Neil Lewis/Fem!OC)

Pairing: Neil Lewis/Fem!OC

Summary: A comic book store opens up next to Gumshoe Video prompting a hot and heavy feud between the two businesses and their nerdy owners.

Theme: Romance - Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: Nerds being nerds, smut

The early morning walks to open Gumshoe Video are always enjoyable for Neil. He loves getting coffee from that family owned Armenian coffee shop down the street, greeting the old man who owns the hardware store across the street, and contemplating what the day’s theme should be.

However, his gorgeous, peaceful morning comes to a screeching halt as he spots a large moving truck parked in front of Gumshoe— no, parked in front of the vacant store to the left of his. He quickly darts into the alleyway across the street and watches with mounting horror as some—so far unrecognizable—new business moves in.

“No no no no no,” Neil mutters to himself, already picturing the worst case scenario. What if it’s a competing video store? Or perhaps on of those Christian shops that sells over priced bible themed tchotchkes? Both are miserable possibilities and he has no idea what he’ll do if either of those ends up being the case.

When the coast is clear of movers, Neil goes sprinting into his store and making a made dash for the phone to call his friends.

He has a bad feeling about this.

…

The first time he sees her is at the grand opening of Golden Age Comics, the new comic book store next door. The first thing he sees when he walks in isn’t the life sized cutouts of various comic book characters placed strategically about nor the wall display of rare figurines.

No, the first thing he sees is her, Bailey Taylor, the owner of the shop. She’s dressed like Wonder Woman, displaying these long shapely legs that have Neil’s jaw going slack in awe. She flutters about the store, greeting customers and advertising the big grand opening sale she’s running.

Johnathan and Lucien, who came into the store with him, start needling each other excitedly, muttering about how hot she is and Neil can only feel dread. This can only spell bad news, he just knows it.

Not at all like a coward, he quickly flees the store before she can approach him.

…

The first time he actually meets Bailey, she comes into his shop. Today Gumshoe is having a deal on westerns and so Neil is dressed accordingly as a cowboy. When she walks into his store, it creates a rather comical juxtaposition as it appears her own store is having a sale on Japanese manga.

Sailor Moon Bailey and Cowboy Neil stare each other down.

“Um, hi,” she greets with an awkward little wave, her smile bright despite the uncomfortable mood, “I own the comic book store next door. My name is Bailey.”

Neil nods stiffly, doing everything in his power to not stare at how hot she looks in that cosplay. When Neil fails to respond, an irritatingly adorable frown mars her features

“Okay,” she mutters to herself before saying, “Well, I just wanted to see if you’d be willing to do a team-up and have a collaborative sale.”

Neil scoffs, “And what? Hock old Adam West Batman tapes?”

She perks up and nods enthusiastically, “Yes! Exactly! I actually have this really great id-.”

Neil shudders at the thought and cuts her off before she can get going, “The old Batman show is absolute garbage in its cinematic delivery— no way would I subject my customers to that.”

The glare she gives him could cut steel and admittedly makes his happy bits stir in interest.

“Garbage?” She snarls, “That show was a pioneer for superhero media! Just because some over hyped alcoholic wife beater didn’t direct it, doesn’t mean it’s not good!”

Neil’s eyes narrow at her and he crosses his arms, trying to appear more authoritative than he usually looks, “Oh believe me, the director has nothing to do with the bad editing and poor visual shots!”

The woman looks like she’s visibly holding herself back from launching herself over the counter and decking Neil in the face. His cock makes another inappropriate twitch at the thought and he internally scolds himself for these reactions.

Without another word, Bailey storms out of the store and stomps her way back to her own shop and Neil breathes a sigh of relief.

God, he really needs to get laid if some uneducated comic dork is getting him riled up.

…

After that disastrous first encounter, a Cold War of sorts settles over the two businesses. If Neil is having a sale, Bailey will have a better one. If Neil does a midnight showing of a movie, Bailey hosts a free-to-join D&D party. If Neil dressed up, Bailey does too but does it better.

It’s aggravating.

Neil doesn’t even know what it is about her that has him going absolutely insane, but it’s beginning to be a problem. For instance, last week she dressed up like Cat Woman and strutted about both in and out of her store, placing herself in full view of Neil boredly manning the register of his own shop. He had to go and jerk off in his office like five times; and he was still horny afterwards!

Like he said— problem.

And it’s only getting worse.

“Dude, oh my god! She’s dressed like a school girl today!” Johnathan says while rushing into the shop, a lecherous grin on his face, “Her skirt is so short!”

Lucien cheers and Neil rams his head onto the surface of the checkout counter repeatedly.

He’s gonna die horny and infuriated by her subpar taste in cinema, it’s inevitable.

Lucien just gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and leaves him to his melancholy while he and Johnathan go next door.

“Ugh what do I do?!” He laments pathetically to himself.

…

The second interaction that Neil has with Bailey happens on a slow night for both businesses.

Neil is parked on the shop couch, watching Lady in the Lake and barely staying awake when she comes into his shop. She’s dressed normal today in a worn Captain Marvel t-shirt and denim shorts and he’s a little too tired to properly hide the slow up and down he gives her.

A little blush settles on her face when she catches him doing that.

“Slow night?” She asks after clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, you?”

Bailey blows a raspberry and nods, walking over to the couch and throwing herself down onto it next to Neil. He quickly scoots over, giving her room while trying to smooth his shirt and hair down to look less like a mess.

“What are we watching?” She asks.

Things sort of devolve from there. Whether it was one innocent comment taken the wrong way, or an intentional dig, it prompts a fresh new screaming match between the two of them over the cinematic quality of the Adam West Batman series. This woman will not let go of that trash TV series, Neil realizes.

Bailey gets up from the couch at some point, Neil hot on her heels as they move their heated argument about the store. It’s when they’re next to the wall that Neil pushes her against the surface and pins her arms high above her. He’s not thinking when he kisses her, pushing his tongue into her mouth to taste her— he’s running purely on adrenaline and instinct.

That first kiss they share is not a gentle one; it’s rough and filthy and hot.

“You are such a brat,” Neil bites out scathingly, his hands slipping away from her wrists to start running over her chest, cupping those perky tits of hers in his hands.

“You are an obnoxious tool!” She sneers in return, her now free hands making quick work of his belt buckle and the button on his jeans.

“I can’t believe how terrible your taste is in cinema! A rock would have better opinions!” Neil helps her push his pants down and then reaches forward to yank her shirt off. The bra she’s wearing is just a simple navy colored one but it has him physically biting back a moan at the sight.

She smirks up at him, then pushes him away with a rough shove, sending him into one of the shelves. She gets into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck and initiating another one of those blood racing kisses.

He reaches down and grabs her under her thighs, hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He starts walking them back towards his office, fully intent on throwing her down onto his couch in there and getting all this frustration out of his system.

Sex has always been pretty gentle and by-the-book for Neil, he’s never had a desire to be rough or for a partner to be rough with him, but Bailey makes his head fuzzy. She makes him want to do things he’s never done before.

“Fuck— Neil!” She gasps when he puts her down and immediately sticks his hand down the front of her shorts and starts rubbing along her slit. It’s so wet and he groans, his cock twitching in anticipation.

“Can’t wait to shut you up,” he tells her, his long fingers alternating between rubbing vicious circles on her clit and slipping down to enter her with harsh thrusts, “Been thinking about this for weeks.”

Her fingers scratch lightly across his stomach as she pushes his shirt up, “Well, you’re going to have to do lot better than this to make that happen.”

His eyes narrow and he pulls his hand out of her shorts, ripping the button open and yanking them down her legs. He grips her around her hips and flips her onto her stomach, climbing onto her legs to keep her from kicking about.

“I am so sick of that smart mouth,” he tells her before laying a loud slap to her right ass cheek, making her cry out in surprise that dissolves into a moan. He would spank her in earnest, but he’s been so fucking horny for so long that he only gives her a few smacks before slipping his fingers up under the edge of her panties, rubbing the buttery soft skin of her ass.

Trailing his hands up, he unhooks her bra and climbs off of her so that she can turn over onto her back. She’s quick to shuck off her bra and panties, exposing herself entirely to his hungry gaze.

“You said you thought about this for weeks,” she remarks while slipping her fingers down to her folds, “How many times did you jerk off to me?”

He groans and goes down to his knees, leaning forward and shouldering his way between her thighs.

“So many fucking times,” he admits shamelessly before licking into her with enthusiasm.

Her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him forward and using the leverage to grind against his face. He could die here, smothered between those shapely thighs, and it would be in total bliss. Her moans are the sweetest thing he’s ever heard and he endeavors to hear them get louder.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his fingers returning their journey of entering her and his eyes watching with hooded rapture as her cunt sucks them into her.

“Neil,” she gasps his name, chanting it like a prayer and he picks up the pace with his fingers. He sucks on that hard little bud of hers and feels her cum around his fingers, that soaking cavern gripping him tightly.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “please let me fuck you.”

Her thighs are shaking as she comes down from her orgasm high, “Yes, fuck yes.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement— he’s barely got his underwear down before he’s pushing into her. She’s tighter and wetter than any other pussy he’s been in and he tells her as much, rasping filthy things into her ear as he begins a brutal and unrelenting rhythm.

“Thought about bending you over the front counter and fucking you stupid so many times.”

Her nails dig into his back, raking along the surface and certainly leaving their mark.

The thought alone of her marking him could make him cum. He bites his lip harshly to try and wrestle back some control, unwilling to see it end so soon.

It barely works as his hips stutter in their thrusting.

“Can I cum in you?” He asks— no, practically begs her.

Her arms snake around his shoulders, tugging his head forward to rest against hers, their mouths finding each other hungrily. Between filthy, tongue filled kisses, she gasps, “Please!”

Permission granted, he buries himself as deep as possible inside of her, the head of his cock nudging her cervix, and he cums. He groans loud and long as those warm, wet walls squeeze every last drop from his cock, sucking it better than any blow job could manage.

He pulls out of her slowly and almost reluctantly, sad to part from that perfect cunt of hers. A flow of white cum follows his departure, dripping from her opening and over her ass in thick globs.

He’s never seen something so sexy in his life and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t get to see it again.

Stepping back from Bailey, he grabs his shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe her clean, chuckling at the deadpan look she gives him for the effort. Tossing the shirt aside, he climbs onto the couch and lays himself out next to her, pulling her to rest against his chest.

They lay like that for a long time, catching their breaths and basking in the after glow.

“You don’t really hate the Adam West Batman series, do you?” Bailey asks, her eyes looking up at Neil imploringly.

Neil about answers the way he normally would but when he looks down at her and sees the earnest expression she’s wearing, he doesn’t have it in him to be an asshole.

“No, it’s not that bad,” he lies and feels his heart flutter when she shoots him a beaming smile in return.

He thinks he can stand mediocre cinema for her sake.

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis/reader #neil lewis x oc #neil lewis/oc #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #watching the detectives fic #neil lewis fic

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jupitercomet · 7 months

Text

The Difference a Minute Can Make

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, Jake is 6′5″ because I said so, my nonexistent knowledge of boxing, will I ever stop making Neil the villain of Jake’s story?, crass insults between men, physical assault (not descriptive), mild gore, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, panic attack, Jake having his jtldm!Bradley moment, no use of y/n

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.8k

one new voicemail masterlist

It’s almost as if your run in with Jake at the butterfly pavilion altered the trajectory of time and space because, after it, you started seeing Jake almost everywhere. The grocery store, the gas station, even somewhat obscure department stores in the mall. You’d almost think he was following you if he didn’t look equally as surprised every time. And, in a weird way, you guess it makes sense, the two of you always had unusually similar lifestyle habits.

It was always the same, your gazes would meet, Jake’s eyes would widen almost comically, and then he would either give you a small wave or, worse, attempt painstaking small talk. And then the whole exchange would end in forced smiles and awkward goodbyes. Maybe Jake was good at that.

Weirdly, Jake’s sudden appearance in your life caused your voicemails to kick back up to their daily occurrence. After cutting down to sparing voicemails every couple days, you’d fallen back into leaving him voicemails on every walk home from work by the third time you ran into him. It felt a little strange to be talking to him about him, but this influx of Jake in your life was throwing you off and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh my gosh, Bradley, my favorite waitress is here!”

The door of Knockouts opens and two regulars make their way inside before much more of the wind can. It’s slightly chilly for fall in San Diego—not terrible weather, but windy. You’d never liked the wind much, it seemed to always make things worse than they already were.

The couple move to their usual booth—the back left, near the widow—and you grab two menus. You were honestly surprised when they came back about a week and a half ago and the woman could still recognize you. Since then, they stopped by semi regularly—sometimes to dine in, sometimes to take out. They were always nice to you and the man tipped well. You like them.

“Toots, stop shoving your phone in my face, I can’t even see what you’re tryin’ to show me,” The man (you call him Grumpy because he is) grunts.

The woman (Shoes, because, the first time she came in, she helped you find a really good deal on shoes) looks like she’s about to speak before she sees you and perks up. “Hi!”

“Hi,” you smile politely, passing them the menus. “Can I get you guys your usual drinks?”

Shoes lets out a gasp, and you worry you’ve said something wrong, but Grumpy answers for her. “Yeah.”

You nod, heading back to the kitchen to get one water and one oreo milkshake.

“Bradley, she knows our drink orders! I told you she liked us!”

The door of the kitchen swings closed and you maneuver your way through the hustle and bustle of people and kitchenware as you make your way to the milkshake blender in the back. It looks like someone is making a peanut butter milkshake. You have the time, so you pour it into a glass before moving to clean out the machine. Malory comes up behind you and smiles gratefully.

“Thank you,” she balances the milkshake on her tray. “I swear, that scar guy is so weird.”

“He’s back?” You look up from the oreo mix.

Grumpy and Shoes weren’t the only sudden regulars spending their nights at Knockouts. An older man with a large, alarming scar on his cheek, who was always dressed in leather jackets and tight jeans, started stopping by too. He was usually a part of the evening rush but sometimes he’d show up in the afternoon. He was strange though, and none of the girls liked him, you included.

“Yeah, I’m this close to talking to Freddie about him, but it’s not like he’d do anything,” Malory shrugs. “A customer’s a customer.”

You nod sympathetically.

Malory leaves the kitchen after that and you try to shake the strange man out of your head as you finish getting a glass of water and the oreo milkshake ready. Jake preferred smoothies, he always said that milkshakes were “So overrated that any schmuck could see it” and that they were just “Big Milk’s way of covertly infiltrating the life of the average consumer, angel”. You smile slightly at the thought.

You know Jake didn’t actually care that strongly about milkshakes. He only said it so much because it made you laugh. And maybe that’s why it was so hard to let go of him. How do you move on from a man who pretended to hate milkshakes for you?

Clearing your throat, you weave your way back out the kitchen doors and back to the farthest booth to the left, closest to the window.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as you set down their drinks, but Shoes waves it off. “Are you ready to order? Or would you like some more time?”

“We’re ready,” Shoes smiles brightly. “Also, can I just say that I love your hair!”

“Oh, um, thank you,” you look down, flustered.

“Yeah, it’s so—”

“We’ll take three cheeseburgers.” Grumpy cuts in bluntly, not looking up from his menu.

You blink in mild surprise, hesitantly shooting a glance to Shoes to see if she’s offended by her partner’s—boyfriend’s? You honestly can’t tell—sudden interruption. Weirdly, she’s only smiling at him softly. She turns to you and her smile widens, though it somehow seems slightly less genuine. “Please,” she adds.

You scrawl the order down quickly, nodding. “I’ll have those right out for you.”

You turn, walking away from the table and, again, you can catch the beginning of their conversation.

“You know, I love your hair too, Bradley. You don’t have to be jealous.” You can hear the playful teasing in her voice.

“...I’m not even going to respond to that.”

Hiding your small smile of amusement, you head back to the kitchen, but something catches your arm before you can give your ticket to the chef. You recognize the feeling of Freddie’s pudgy fingers against your bicep. Freddie is who you imagine Augustus Gloop would be if he never got sucked up the chocolate tube. You’d never say that to anyone—you knew it was mean—but that’s what you thought when you first met him. He was round and pink and always sweaty, a girthy man fit tightly into yellow-stained khakis. Oddly, he’d never been that sleazy, you and the other waitresses had all voiced to each other how surprising that was. Though you suppose that, in order to be sexually attracted to you, he’d have to view you as a human being first. He was bossy and didn’t have an understanding bone in his body, he was the kind of guy you just agreed with if you knew what was best for you. He was also the most paranoid man you’d ever met.

Freddie’s fingers feel clammy against your skin, stubby nails digging into you. “Which table is yours?”

“Table six,” you point.

“Mm,” Freddie nods, keeping his eyes on Grumpy and Shoes as he takes a step closer to you. His breath is hot against your face. “You know ‘em?”

“I mean, yeah, they’re—”

“Good.” He drops your arm suddenly and starts muttering. You watch him warily. “That’s good.”

“Alright,” Javy drops his gloves with a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m not sparring with you if you’re gonna be in your own head the whole time.”

Jake furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been leaving my face completely uncovered for the past two minutes and you haven’t gone for a head shot once.”

Jake swallows. Maybe he had been in his own head. But it’s not his fault that he keeps running into you everywhere and it’s distracting him. What’s worse is that, even when he’s not running into you, even when you’re not even there, he’s still somehow seeing you. You’ve somehow made home in his brain and now, everywhere he goes, he’s reminded of you.

Since he moved back to San Diego, you’ve basically been putting him through the ringer. First, you suddenly stopped sending him voicemails, there’s nothing waiting for Jake everyday after 6:00, and it made him go crazy. He basically stopped sleeping, staying up all night wondering if this was really it and you’ve really moved on from him. Then he sees you, he sees how much he hurt you, but he also sees how much you’ve grown from it. Then he’s breaking down in front of drunk women because all he can think about is you. He can’t stop wishing that he didn’t ruin things with you the way he did. He can’t stop wishing that you give him anything more than a forced smile whenever the two of you run into each other in public.

Jake almost feels like this borders on obsession, but he knows that it’s not. He wants it to be obsession because otherwise it’s something else and that’s much scarier. But the thought of not having you at all is even worse.

“Sounds like Cowboy Ken doll isn’t shaping up to be so good in the big leagues.” A quiet chuckle rips Jake from his thoughts and he turns his head to see two of Maverick’s boxers laughing under their breath.

“Sorry,” Jake speaks up, ignoring Javy’s warning look. “I know you aren’t laughing like you’re tough shit when you’re too much of a pussy to say it to my face. Or did you need to practice a little before you said it like a big boy?”

The man, who Jake vaguely recalls as Omaha, snickers in disbelief. “Damn. You kiss your momma with that mouth, Hangman?”

Javy freezes. Jake’s jaw clenches. And then his expression transforms into a smirk, his tongue tracing his front teeth slowly.

“Nah. But yours doesn’t seem to mind.”

“The fuck did you just say to me?!” Omaha’s friend grabs him before he can lunge at Jake and Javy mirrors the action.

Jake just laughs though. “That’s all it took? You wanna talk shit about me and you can’t even handle someone sayin’ they fucked your mom? Javy, are you seeing this shit? I didn’t even have to try.”

“Would you cut it out?” Javy glares at him. “You’ve made your point, now shut the fuck up.”

The air is tense, neither man content with backing down, and everyone else in the gym can sense it. It was really only a matter of time before Maverick came strolling out of his office. He checks the time on his expensive watch boredly, as if seeing two men on the brink of a fight isn’t anything new for him. Given his occupation, Jake knows it isn’t.

“There a problem, boys?” He looks up at the four men, two on the elevated boxing ring and two on the ground below.

“Nothing more than shit-talking, Maverick,” the man holding back Omaha takes the initiative to explain.

Maverick snorts. “Well, then figure it out, yeah? You’re boxers for fucks sake.”

The four men look between each other and—slowly—Jake and Omaha are released. Javy sighs heavily when Omaha moves to put his own wraps and gloves on and gives Jake a knowing look.

“Stay out of your own head, dumbass.” He warns.

Jake smirks. “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

And when Omaha’s finally ready and they go to touch gloves before the first round, Jake smirks again.

“When you go home tonight, crying like a little bitch, tell your mom I said that I’m sorry about what I did to your face.”

You check again that you have everything contained in your purse before sliding on your jacket.

“Mal?” You call out and Malory pops out from behind the counter. “I think I’m gonna head out. Are you alright here by yourself?”

“I’m fine, Betty should be showing up for her shift any second,” Malory waves you off. You both know you have a bit of a walk and you’d be walking in the dark if you stay any longer.

You nod. “Only if you’re sure,” you check again and she just nods her head. “I’ll see you, then.”

You can hear her shout goodbye as you open Knockouts front door and step outside. The wind’s picked up, blowing at the strings of your zip-up and you wrap your arms around yourself a little tighter. You hate the wind.

Though your fingers are cold—and so are your ears—you can’t help but reach for your phone. Taking a deep breath, you press on the familiar contact and wait to go to its inevitable voicemail

“Hey, Jake. I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this all day, so sorry if it seems like it’s coming out of nowhere. But I just have to say it.

I don’t know if it’s just because I know you’re in San Diego now but I just feel… I don’t know, I guess I thought I could do all this without you. I mean I had to. You left. But— But maybe I don’t want to.

I don’t want to do this without you, Jake, and I don’t know what to do because I don’t think you want me— God, I’m sorry, I need to stop crying on my walks home. This is getting ridiculous. I’m sorry. But I made so much progress, Jake, I really did. I promise. And I—

Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that is—

No, I— I really don’t know where that is. But maybe someone else can help you two—”

Harley barks suddenly and Jake looks down at him. “What? You want to go outside?”

“I’m actually on the phone right now—”

Harley’s barks get louder and he circles Jake’s legs, whining. “What? Would you stop? I can’t hear.”

“Please don’t—”

“Harley!” Jake furrows his brows at the doberman when another loud bark overtakes your quiet voice. “What is with you?”

The dog isn’t even looking at him and Jake follows his gaze to the iPhone 6 in his hand.

“Wait, what—”

The voicemail ends with what sounds like the beginning of your scream and Harley won’t stop barking. Jake can feel his own panic rising as his dog continues barking, and whining, and pawing at his furniture, never once taking his eyes off Jake’s phone.

“Look, I’ll go check on her, okay? Is that what you want?” He leads Harley to the backyard, not wanting the dog to destroy his house while he’s gone. “I know where she is, she said she was walking home. I’ll check on her.”

Though Jake was trying to reassure his dog—as if Harley could understand him—there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’s trying to tell himself that your scream was just you slipping and falling, that you’re probably halfway home by now.

Jake grabs his motorcycle keys.

He doesn’t know the exact route you took to get home, but there were only so many ways to get to your apartment from Knockouts quickly. He picks the one with the least amount of busy streets—you’d always been smart enough to figure that stuff out—and finds himself scanning every sidewalk and crosswalk for you. He’s getting closer and closer to Knockouts with every intersection and still hasn’t seen a person who so much as looks like you. Jake can’t explain it, but he feels almost suffocated by dread.

He’s about a block away from Knockouts when he finally spots you. At first he doesn’t even realize it's you, until it hits him so suddenly he almost crashes his bike.

“Angel? Shit!”

Jake parks haphazardly—he might not have even turned his bike off—and he scrambles to the alley hidden by the large Denny’s.

In his life, Jake has seen many people look bloodied and battered. Hell, this morning, he found pleasure in the blood and bruises he inflicted on Omaha. He’s seen people spit out teeth and choke on bloodied spit and, never once, has it fazed him.

But when Jake finally gets a look at you, his heart plummets to his stomach. There’s blood dripping from your right temple and your face is covered in scratches. Your clothes are ripped and wrinkled and dirty. Jake already knows you have even more injuries that he just can’t see yet. Without thinking, he takes a step forward and you flinch.

“Hey, hey,” Jake crouches down, whispering softly as he gives you some space. “It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. You’re okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You’re looking at him, but you don’t seem to see him, and Jake tries to catch your eye with a comforting smile. “It’s just me, angel. It’s okay.”

It takes several minutes, but after a few blinks, there’s mild clarity in your eyes. You swallow thickly. “J-Jake?”

“Yeah, angel, just me. Can I take you home, sweetheart?”

Under any other circumstance, being in Jake’s house, on his couch, in his arms would be awkward. Painful even. But now, as he holds your shaky body with equally shaky hands, you wonder if you even have room for those emotions.

You feel numb. Empty and weightless. You don’t hate the feeling, in fact it’s cutting you off from the pain of your physical injuries. It’s like your body knows it’ll be too much if it lets you feel anything. Vaguely, you wonder if you’re going into shock. But, fighting through all of that, is one gnawing question that you can’t seem to shake.

“How did— How did you know I needed you?” You turn your nose to Jake’s pulse point. When you breathe in, you’re soothed by the smell of his cologne. He hasn’t changed it since you were dating, a rich mix of cashmere and mahogany, and it’s still a familiar scent. You want to drown in it.

“I, um,” you can feel him swallow. “I was listening to your voicemail.”

His words—their meaning—hit you and you pull away from him slowly, betrayal evident in your features. “You’ve… You’ve been listening to my voicemails? And you never said anything?”

Jake can only look at you guiltily.

“No…” You shake your head slowly, getting off of him and moving to the other side of the couch. “You let me think— This whole time—”

“I know, okay? I know. I’m awful and horrible and you have every right to be mad at me, I know,” Jake pleads with you, holding his arms out, his voice as soft as his movements like you’re some sort of frightened, feral animal he’s trying to rescue. “But I’m begging you, angel, be mad at me later. I’m being so selfish, I know that, but I can’t— I— Not right now. I gotta hold you right now. Please.”

His own eyes are misty, his voice breaking as he opens himself up to you. Though you’re mad at him, though you’re hurt beyond belief, you need him just as much. It feels like everything is catching up to you, the confusion and pain and heart-stopping terror. And after all of it, after everything, you just need Jake.

When you throw yourself to his chest, Jake relaxes with relief. He’s holding you on just the border of too tightly, one hand gripping your waist and the other holding the back of your head. He holds you like if he lets go, even for a second, you’ll be right back in that dark alley. Like the only way he’ll know you’re truly safe—truly alive—is if he can feel you between his fingers. You’re not much better though, the dam finally breaking as you sob violently into his chest.

“Thank you, angel,” he breathes and his voice sounds thick. You realize that he’s crying too when you feel drops of his tears in your hair. “God, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Seein’ you like that, I thought— Angel, I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

If Jake’s grip on you is almost too tight, yours is well past it, your body shaking and trembling as it finally processes what just happened.

“I don’t wanna be alone. Don’t leave me alone.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, desperate and pleading.

“Never, angel,” he promises, rocking you both soothingly. “Never, never.”

“I can’t— I— I can’t—” He sounds like he’s underwater and you can’t stop choking out begs through your sharp intakes of breath. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you, angel,”Jake assures you, rubbing the back of your head softly.

“Please—” You can’t seem to fight past the images of large men, rough hands, dark allies that clog your throat and you feel trapped. Only able to breathe in, breathe in, breathe in.

“Hey, let’s breathe yeah? You and me? Can you follow my breaths?” Jake mimics sucking on a straw, taking deep breaths as you look at him with wide, panicked eyes. Jake only smiles gently, taking another over exaggerated breath. “It’s okay. Just try to breathe with me, angel. You’re safe.”

You do your best to mirror him, pushing through the harsh collapsing and inflating of your chest as you try to even out your breaths. It takes a few minutes—and a fair amount of coaxing from Jake—but finally the adrenaline lessons its weight on your chest and exhaustion takes its place.

Jake seems to realize your panic attack has passed, softly brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “There she is. There’s my pretty girl.”

You swallow, too tired to do anything but look at him.

“I have to clean you up, is that alright, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure how quickly it happens—you’re so exhausted—but you find yourself in Jake’s bathroom, standing in your undergarments as Jake tests the temperature of the shower. He’s stripped down to his boxers as well, your clothes a crumpled pile on the floor. You can’t look at them. You want to throw them out and never look at them again.

Under the brighter lights of his bathroom, Jake must be able to see you more clearly and he straightens so as not to view you at an angle. You watch as his jaw sets as he takes in your injuries, the blood and dirt clinging to your skin and hair. You feel naked under his gaze—you basically are—and you want to shrink into yourself and just disappear.

Jake purses his lips. “Do you wanna check if it’s too hot?”

You shake your head.

“Would you be willing to get in for me then?”

You take a step forward and Jake places a supporting hand on your back. The water feels nice against your skin—comforting. You think you want to cry again.

“Here,” Jake gently places one of your hands on his hip. “If I start hurting you, just squeeze, okay? Can you do that?”

You nod.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

Neither of you say anything as Jake washes you of the grime covering your skin. He’s gentle, almost feather light, as he cleans you with unscented soap and a smooth washcloth. It occurs to you that Jake’s probably gone through this routine a thousand times. You wonder if it’s any different for him now that it’s you.

“I’m all done, angel.” His voice is a whisper that can barely be heard over the sound of the running water. “Do you wanna stay in here for a bit or get out now?”

It takes a moment for you to speak. “Get out please.”

The water turns off and Jake wraps you up in a fluffy towel before carrying you to his bedroom. You should be more helpful, you know you should. At the very least, you should be able to change yourself out of your sopping wet bra and underwear. But you’re so tired. You only have the energy to stand there, staring at the floor as Jake quickly puts on a pair of sweatpants.

He seems to understand your exhaustion, peeling the towel off you without a word once he’s come back with an old t-shirt and pair of boxers. Though it’s something you’re all too aware he’s seen before, Jake keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes off your wet clothes and replaces them with his soft, dry ones.

“I know you’re tired, angel. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Jake pushes back the duvet for you. “I’ll… I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

When his words register, your eyes widen in panic and you grab his wrist frantically. “No! You said you wouldn’t leave me! You promised! You—”

“Hey, hey, okay,” Jake shushes you lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, I just didn’t think—” He stops himself, seemingly shaking off the thought. “I won’t go anywhere.”

It’s only when you’re positive he’s not leaving you that you allow Jake to coax you into his bed. The bedding is warm, and soft, and smells like him—or maybe that’s just his clothes you’re wearing. Still, you can’t seem to force yourself to sleep. You feel almost sick, fatigued maybe, but you’re too afraid to close your eyes.

Jake tenses in surprise when you suddenly cling to him again, but it only takes him a second to relax.

“I’m so proud of you, angel.” He traces your hairline with kisses, being extra tender with the injured skin above your temple.

“Tried— Tried to do what you taught me but—” You shake your head, tears spilling over onto your cheeks once again. “I thought they were mugging me, so I just tried to give my purse to them— But they didn’t want it!”

Jake furrows his brow, keeping his voice soft as he strokes your back. “What did they want, angel?”

“They kept telling me to tell Rooster to ‘leave it alone if he knows what’s good for him’. And I kept telling them that I don’t know a Rooster, but they wouldn’t listen!” You look at him desperately, your fingers clinging to his bicep. “They wouldn’t listen, Jake! I don’t— I don’t know—”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. You were real smart, telling them you were on the phone. You did so, so good.” You feel the words spoken quietly into the top of your head and Jake’s grip on you tightens. “Just, maybe I take you to and from work for a bit, yeah?”

Without even hesitating, you nod against his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’ll be okay. We’re okay.” And then he says it again, a bit more like he means it. “We’re okay. Try to get some sleep, angel.”

It’s probably the longest you’ve ever been comfortable in Jake’s grip. Even when you were together, you couldn’t help but second guess yourself if you touched him for too long. Embarrassingly, you feared you weren’t doing it right. But now, the thought of not being in his arms fills you with such a debilitating panic that it outweighs any of your insecurities.

Because you need to be consumed by cashmere and mahogany, olive green, and soft sheets so there’s no room for you to be consumed by anything else. You need to focus on the feeling of Jake’s fingers dancing across your skin so that your eyes can finally flutter closed. You’re so tired.

Jake waits for your breath to even out. And then he waits a couple minutes longer. And then he waits for a little under an hour because he needs to. Finally his brain seems to register that you’re okay, that you’re safe. The fact that there was even a second that you weren’t makes him sick.

There’s a pawing at the patio door and a soft, muffled whine and Jake cranes his neck to see Harley standing at the sliding glass. With everything that had happened, Jake had yet to let him back in.

Positive that you’re asleep, Jake gently separates himself from you, padding over to the door quietly. Harley seems to understand the situation, because he steps inside the bedroom just as quietly and only looks at your sleeping body and then back at Jake.

“She’s alright, buddy,” Jake assures the dog with a soft scratch of his head. “'Cause of you she’s alright. Now I gotta do something, so you keep your mom safe, okay?”

Jake waits for Harley to settle at the foot of the bed before stepping out and sliding the glass door closed. He unlocks his phone and clicks on a contact he hasn’t had to for almost two years.

“Hello?”

“Rooster,” Jake grits out. “What the fuck did you do?”

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months

Text

As You Wish Pt. 2 | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

Summary| Neil, still thinking about the other day, invites y/n to Gumshoe Video's movie night. The theme (besides vampires) is the 1960s and so she dresses for the part. And like any good vampire thriller- only the good stuff happens after dark...

Warnings| age gap- reader (19) Neil Lewis (27), cursing, kissing, groping, teasing, unprotected sex, penetration, no fore-play.

word count: 4261K

Midnight City- M83 🎶

Our Swords- Band of Horses 🎵

Shout out to the lovely reader who requested a part 2! This is for you!

Please read warnings and continue at your own discretion, thanks!

She can hear the chatter from outside as rain plasters the wide display windows. She stops outside Gumshoe Video and peeks her head inside, sparing her hairdo from the storm outside. Her hair was pinned into a half-beehive and curled up around her shoulders like a young Pattie Boyd. The guests inside turn when the bells above the door announce her presence. They cheer and raise their red plastic cups in greeting and she laughs back, her smile dragging widely across her face. And there he is: Neil Lewis. He’s standing beside the box tv set with a bottle of cheap beer in his hand. He’s wearing a powder blue dress shirt from the seventies and a dark blue suit. His longish hair is swept out of his face and he smiles at something someone has said. When he looks over, he sees her, and his mouth falls open.

“Oh my God! Where did you get this?” A woman swoops in from the side and admires her dress.

“It’s a replica mod dress from the 60s. I made it,” she answered with a polite smile and allowed the woman to inspect the stitching. As she raised her eyes, they met Neil’s. His eyes widened slightly as he dropped them down to her thighs before traveling back up to her face. Her dress was boxy, like that of a mod dancer, and so short that it was barely fingertip length (to use school-girl terminology). She was dressed up as a gogo dancer, red vinyl boots and all, for the showing of Gumshoe Video’s The Kiss of the Vampire. Neil bit his tongue as his eyes crawled down her body. Her dark red dress had a high modest neckline but was sleeveless and short. The fabric was a tautly starched linen that didn’t move much as she walked. It hugged her waist with a thick belt but fared out around her thighs in a fixed shape. Her makeup was a copy of one of Twiggy’s famous looks with the exaggerated eyelashes and dark eyeliner. Her eyelids were a bright blue that clashed with her red clothing, a mixing of primary colors. When the woman stepped away, she advanced shyly, resisting the urge to bite her lip and ruin her lipstick. Neil cleared his throat and nodded quickly at Lucien whom he was talking to when she had come in. His eyes darted back and forth, between her and Lucien’s prop pipe. His long eyelashes fluttered as he stole glances at her between pretending to listen to Lucien.

“Hey! Nice of you to join, I’m Jonathan.” Jonathan appeared beside her and offered his hand not holding a beer. She shook it and smiled.

“Y/N, I tried to dress for the theme.” She looked down at her costume and he nodded emphatically.

“I did too. I was going for Ringo Starr.” Jonathan twirled, showing off his bright pink military costume like the one Ringo wore for Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. She nodded and smiled.

“I see the resemblance. Who is Neil supposed to be?” She jerked her head at Neil and Jonathan sighed.

“He said that he was going as one of the Monkees but personally, I don’t see it.”

“He must have run out of costumes,” she laughed and Jonathan shrugged dramatically. As she finished that sentence, Neil broke away from Lucien, slightly breathless and placed a hand on her back in greeting. She looked up at him, curling her toes inside her shoes.

“You’re one of the Monkees?” She teased him lightly and Neil chuckled and shook his head.

“I did have a hat on, it made more sense when I was wearing the hat.”

“So you were Micheal?” She asked and he gestured wildly at her for Jonathan, “See I told you someone would get it.”

“That’s only because you both have weird niche knowledge,” Jonathan wrinkled his nose. “Uh oh, Lucien is talking to two strange women. I’m going to swoop in before he says something weird,” he hurried over to Lucien and patted him playfully on the head. Neil immediately looked down at her, his cool resolve slipping slightly. He was flustered.

“Wow,” he gestured with both hands at her costume and she blushed self-consciously. He stuttered as he tried to say something coherent. “I’m uh, just uh… wow.” He scratched the back of his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around quickly before leaning in close to her ear. “Jesus Christ you smell good too.” He shook his head, forgetting what he was originally going to say. She smiled giddily.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Do you want to see my office?” Neil cleared his throat as he looked around, trying to look natural to everyone else in the store. His slumped posture and darting eyes would betray him if anyone cared to look at him long enough. He replaced his hand on the small of her back and swirled a finger across the fabric. She played with the hem of his blazer, blushing hard.

“Hey, Neil!” A couple stopped in front of them and Neil jumped back to attention, his arm flying back behind his head and off of her body. He coughed briefly and cleared his throat.

“Hey- hey! How’s it going?” He smiled distractedly and greeted his friends. They waited expectantly to be introduced to the girl and Neil gasped slightly, remembering. “Oh sorry, this is Y/N and Y/N, this is Buddy and Marcia.” He waved between them and they all nodded at each other politely, exchanging handshakes and smiles. “Enjoy the movie!” Neil said a little over enthusiastically and Buddy furrowed his brow, slightly concerned as they walked away. Jonathan found them at the makeshift bar and chuckled.

“That’s the new girl,” he gestured with his cup and Marsha pursed her lip approvingly.

On the other side of the room, Neil turned back to her and licked his lips. “So… my office?” He raised his eyebrows and jerked his thumbs at the separate office space in the back of the store. She giggled as she dug her toe into the ground and swayed slightly against him. Neil’s smile grew as he led her from the main store area and back into the office. When she passed through the door after him, Neil closed it and lowered himself slightly, his arms going out wide as he looked her up and down again mouthing, “oh my god.”

“So you like it?” She ran her hands down the front of her dress and shifted the weight on her feet proudly.

“I mean, just look at you!” He ran his hand over his mouth and stepped in closer. The desk knocked softly into her tailbone as she retreated. “I love it,” he emphasized and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was leaning back against the desk, her legs spread and her weight evenly distributed. Neil stepped closer, his body firmly between her legs. She worked up the courage to touch him, sliding her palms around his waist beneath his blazer.

“Your fucking thighs,” Neil whispered breathlessly as his index fingers traced around the small hairs on her upper thighs. “God…” he gasped softly, already feeling himself get hot under the collar. She rubbed her nose against his and gave him a soft peck on the mouth.

“Is that all I get?” He whispered with a furrowed brow. He ran his knuckles down her neck and tried not to gasp when he found her breasts. She kissed him again, pulling herself up higher by his shoulders. Her fingers dug into the plush fabric of his jacket’s shoulder pads. He responded immediately, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Neil pawed desperately at her, his hands grabbing at her thighs, her breasts, and her head. He pushed her up onto the desk and she whined in protest as he now towered above her. He chuckled breathlessly and dragged his hands up the inside of her thighs.

“Shh,” he smiled when she glowered, wanting to cling to him as she kissed him. When she stopped wiggling, he leaned down and kissed her slowly. She held onto his hips by hooking her fingers in his belt loops. His hands prodded further, stroking the elastic band of her underwear around her pelvis. She was wearing cotton underwear and Neil could feel the wetness pooling at her opening through the fabric. He started to fall apart as he stroked her clothed cunt with his long fingers. She squirmed on the desk in front of her and the heels of her gogo boots knocked against the desk, her back arched into him. She moved his hands beneath her skirt, looking up at him with wide suggestive eyes.

“Here? Now?” Neil whispered, slightly shocked at the girl’s suggestion. “Are you insane?” He whispered beside her ear, his voice laced with perverted desire though he tried to shake it from his voice, still wanting to be the voice of reason.

“Neil…” she muttered at him and petted his crotch with slow, heavy moves.

“What?” He whispered, an edge in his voice. His forehead was still creased and he tried to even out his breath as his cock pushed against every touch of her hand.

“You’re supposed to say, As. You. Wish.” She squeezed her thighs around his legs, just below his hips and wrapped her hands around his hips. Neil raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly. He watched her as she bore into his eyes, thick with desire. He looked her up and down and reached both hands beneath her skirt again, pulling her underwear down over her butt. She had to lean back slightly as he dragged the cotton wad down over her gogo boots. He looked down at the underwear in his palm and trilled his lips lowly.

“This is a bit more involved than I was expecting but I’m all for it,” he shrugged with a loose smirk and put the underwear on the desk beside them. She smiled and pulled on his dress shirt, prompting him to give her a satisfying kiss.

“You were the one who suggested that I see your office,” she giggled quietly.

“I needed a sense of adventure.” He muttered against her lips, his eyes closed.

“Neil… Adventure?” She smiled lazily and stroked his jaw, her short nails running dully down his neck.

“I like the sound of that,” he continued to kiss her, his nose crushing against her cheek. A knock at the door made them both jump and Neil turned around quickly, shielding her from the view of whomever was at the door.

“Neil! We’re starting the movie now and Jonathan doesn’t know how to work the player. You gotta fix it.” Lucien yelled through the door. His silhouette showed through the frosted glass.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned quietly and rubbed his face. His erection fell slightly at the interruption and he sighed. “Ok, Lucien. I’m coming!” He smiled falsely as he yelled back his response.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Lucien mumbled beneath his breath and hurried back into the store area.

“I’ll see you out there,” Neil cringed and fixed his suit as much as he could.

“Break a leg,” she smiled and hopped off of the desk, her underwear still sitting on the desk. She pulled them back on over her gogo boots and followed him out. Neil walked around to the back of the tv and checked the cables. She watched from the back of the room, a deep blush spreading across her face as she noticed the places where her red lipstick had left smudges around his mouth. She smiled down at her boots and bit her lip, trying to compose herself. Neil stepped back in front of the tv with Jonathan and announced the movie, lipstick still smudged around his wide lips.

“And now, Gumshoe Video presents the 1963 The Kiss of the Vampire,” he extended his hands to the small square tv and waggled his fingers. The audience laughed and hooted. Some glanced over at her and smiled, she blushed deeper.

“Nice touch,” one guy called from the couches and Neil stared at him blankly, his eyes then slowly drifting to her. She pointed at her mouth and rested her chin on her fist. Neil laughed it off and winked as he stepped aside and the movie started. She sat down on the couch in the back and scooted to the side as Neil joined her, collapsing with an anxious exhale.

“Kissed by a vampire,” he shook his head, “why didn’t I think of that? That would have been a perfect costume.” He spoke with his hands, and shrugged his shoulders. She hid her face in her hands to hide her smile. “Was it really that noticeable?” He whispered and she nodded, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she giggled quietly and wiped the lipstick smudges from his face with her thumb. Jonathan moved around the spread of couches and perched on the edge of the couch beside them.

“Nice touch, Neil. I think it makes the viewing experience more realistic.” Jonathan snarked and Neil rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Jonathan.” Neil sighed and massaged his face, pulling down on the skin. Jonathan winked at her and she smiled. Jonathan drifted off as the movie started and the title card appeared. As Neil relaxed into the couch, his hand found her thigh and rubbed his knuckles across her thigh. She leaned against him, her head resting against the wing of his shoulder as he moved his arm around her.

…

“What’d you think of the movie?” Neil shoved his hands into his pockets as they locked up Gumshoe Video, the store now completely dark.

“It’s a classic vampire movie,” she shrugged and smiled, “no notes,” she added.

It had stopped raining but the sidewalks were littered with shallow puddles of dark water. Neil chuckled and placed one hand on the small of her back as they turned away from the store.

“I thought you’d like it,” Neil smirked and she raised her eyebrow.

“Why?”

“You would 100% be the kind of girl to get abducted by an insanely attractive vampire and fall in love with him.”

“Well would he suck my blood at the end and kill me?” She pretended to consider the universe that Neil was suggesting.

“Oh of course,” Neil shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and furrowed his brows playfully.

“I can’t see it,” she shook her head and clasped her hands behind her back as they walked. She looked down at her shoes and smiled. Neil fell silent for a moment, his eyes once again trailing her up and down.

“Have I told you how amazing you look?” Neil cleared his throat.

“Yes, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” she blushed and cocked her head to the side, looking into his eyes as they walked. Neil wet his lips and stopped, looking her up and down once again.

“You look amazing.” He said seriously and she looked away, self-conscious. They were stopped in front of Neil’s house, a two-story craftsman in a dark green color that looked dark blue in the darkness. She looked from the house to Neil’s face, the front porch light reflecting in his bright blue eyes. Neil laughed awkwardly when he realized that they had stopped at his house.

“Will you come inside?” He twisted his hips casually, jerking his head once at the front door. The girl exhaled shakily and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She answered with a nervous smile.

Neil broke into a large smile, the lines of his cheekbones stretching down to the edge of his jaw beside his pink lips. They climbed the stairs to the house and Neil let her inside, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she stepped into the house in front of him. Neil closed the door behind him, exhaling slowly. She met his eyes when she turned back and smiled shyly when she noticed how he stared at her.

“Do you want to kiss me?” She asked him quietly. Neil nodded emphatically, his hand still on the doorknob behind him.

“Then come here and kiss me,” she whispered and turned fully to face him. She felt her cunt grow hot and heat billowed down her thighs. Neil clenched his jaw and swallowed, his eyes now fixed on the girl’s mouth. He pushed himself off of the door and approached her, his hips swaying slightly as he walked. She kept her arms by her side as Neil wrapped gentle fingers around her upper arms, right above her elbows, and held his lips within inches of hers. She savored the way he smelled, like laundry detergent and mouthwash. He smelled like what she imagined domestic masculinity would smell like if it could be bottled. She sighed softly before he kissed her, his lips drawing hers between his. He held her in place, not aggressively, and kissed her, moving his head occasionally to taste her from different angles.

When he broke away she took a step back and clasped her hands behind her back girlishly. Neil laughed like a schoolboy, shocked by the surge of desire and energy he felt just from the kiss.

“Can I take you upstairs?” He leaned his arm against the wall and pointed to the staircase in front of them. She bit her lip, trying to stop from laughing hysterically from nerves. She took a step backwards and stepped onto the bottom step, facing Neil.

“Ask me again,” she teased and bit her lip harder. Neil exhaled sharply as he felt his cock twitch aggressively in his pants. The dark room threw her body into shadow and the windows above the stairs illuminated her silhouette. He wet his lips and asked again.

“Can I take you upstairs?”

She could still make out his blue eyes in the dark as the windows provided enough light to catch their color. She took a few more steps up, still facing him.

“As you wish,” she whispered. Neil laughed, thrilled by her little game. He hurried up the stairs but she kept a few steps between them at all times until she reached the top of the stairs. She backed up into the wall beside the window and allowed Neil to close in on her. Neil held her hips in his large hands and kissed her again, this time snaking his tongue into her mouth, testing the waters. They stumbled away from the stairs and rushed into a doorway, Neil catching himself on the doorframe with both arms so that he could turn her around. He twisted her around so that her back was to his bed.

Neil’s room was exactly as one would expect. His walls were decorated with movie posters with the addition of a few select female movie stars that he had the hots for. He helped the girl back onto the bed and leaned over her on the bed. She weaved her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck and traced his jaw with her palms. He worked quickly to pull off her gogo boots and slipped off his suit jacket. She moved onto her knees on the edge of the mattress and slid each button out of its eyelet on his power blue shirt. Neil shrugged it off and pulled each sleeve over his wrists, dropping it to the floor. She pressed her hands against his chest and placed a few shaky kisses against his warm skin. Neil sighed pleasurably and swept her hair over her shoulders to lie flat down her back. Looking up at him, she moved her hand down to the zipper at his crotch. Neil’s eye widened as she unzipped his fly and slid her hand down into the front of his hands, beneath his underwear. She cupped his erection in her hand and rubbed her hand down the hot and trembling length. Neil sputtered as she stroked him, his hands returned to the bed on either side of her body. She leaned down so that she could kiss the side of his neck while she jerked him off. Precum coated his cock so her hand slid easily over him and she shivered when she heard Neil gasp softly beside her ear.

“Fuck, you’re full of fucking suprises,” he panted and squeezed his eyes shut. She exhaled against his neck and left a fresh hickey before responding.

“This isn’t a movie, Neil. You can’t predict the ending.”

She pulled her hand out of his pants and kissed his briefly as she scooted farther into the bed. Neil watched her breathlessly, his face hot. He watched her as she unzipped the side of her dress and pulled it over her head. Her bare breasts confronted the cold air by hardening. Neil’s jaw nearly fell open when he saw her, exposed like that. All that remained on her body was the cotton underwear which he allowed his gaze to linger on, camouflage by her thighs. She laid back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows, her stomach trembling with nerves and desire. Neil’s erection pushed noticeably against his boxers. With his eyes still trained on the girl, he pushed down his pants and crawled onto the bed, stopping over her. He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed the soft flesh there, savoring how warm she was against his mouth. She worked her underwear down and he could feel her hips shift on the mattress which thrilled him. He sat back to look at her, fully nude now. He raised her leg into the air and kissed down her calf, stopping at the underside of her knee.

“I want to fuck you,” Neil saidbreathlessly as he moved his fingers down her thigh. She smiled darkly, her bow mouth drawn up into a smirk. His cock throbbed in his underwear and hovered above her navel.

“Say it again,” she whispered. Neil raised an eyebrow and exhaled anxiously.

“I want to fuck you.”

“Again.”

“I want,” he leaned down to her ear and shoved a finger inside her gently, “to fuck you.” She whimpered and bit her lip.

“Again,” she struggled to say the words, her cheeks flushed.

“No, honey. You’re supposed to say, as you wish.” Neil whispered against her skin, his finger curling inside her. He smiled when she squirmed and moaned.

“Ah, fuck- fuck me,” she gasped before Neil crushed his mouth against hers. He pulled down his boxers just enough to free his erection and centered himself at her cunt which was throbbing as much as he was.

“As you wish,” he chuckled and removed his finger, swapping it out for his cock. He pushed in gently, working his tip inside her slowly as she squirmed needily beneath him. She was tight from nerves and inexperience and he whined despite himself as he went deeper. Her hands found his back and gripped into his flesh. He watched as his cock struggled to fit all the way inside her and moaned loudly when he saw her mouth held open in pleasurable shock.

“Is it ok?” He groaned and stroked her flushed cheek. Her red lipstick was smudged again on her chin and he swiped his thumb across it.

“Mmhm, yes.” She nodded and bit her lip as he thrusted in farther. Once her body got used to his length, he was able to pull out and thrust back in. It took only seconds but the sensations felt as though they were happening over hours. He fucked her gently but fast, his hips rocking against hers and shaking the mattress. She pushed her heels into the mattress and arched her hips up into his pelvis. Neil found it delightfully needy and thrusted deeper, eliciting a loud gasp from the girl.

“Do you like that?” Neil smiled and cupped her chin with his hand.

“Uh huh, yeah.” She panted as her eyes rolled back into her head.

“You’re being such a good girl,” Neil praised her and cussed beneath his breath as he felt her walls tighten around him. His hips bucked aggressively into her over and over again and she yelled and gasped in pleasure. He looked down at his cock, slick with her precum, sliding in and out of her. He held her thighs and coaxed her deeper onto his cock, she gasped and bit her lip, her breasts bouncing against her chest. Neil groaned at the sight and fucked her messily, lossing control as he felt how wet she and tight she was getting as she neared her orgasm.

“Good girl! I’m so close.” He panted quietly and she wrapped her fingers loosely around the nape of his neck.

“Cum inside me,” she pleaded.

“What?”

“Cum inside me,” she repeated, more delirious with pleasure.

“Say it again,” he smirked, playing her at her own game.

“Cum. in. me.” Her words tumbled out in a jumbled mess as she started to climax. Her thighs were tightening and her muscles flexed. He groaned helplessly as she came around him.

“As you wish,” he managed to answer as he buckled his hips against her and prompted himself to finish inside, spilling cum into her. He thrusted as he finished and exhaled when he finally pulled out. She worked to catch her breath as he collapsed beside her on the bed.

“Fuck.” He sighed and rubbed his face.

“Yeah.” She laughed lightly and cupped her cunt, still riding out the lasting waves of climax.

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