A lovely new podfic for you. This time I’m reading a cute little Harry Potter flavored bit for the Cormoran Strike fandom, written by meansovermotive (who I thought had a Tumblr but maybe I’m wrong…someone clue me in).
The Muse has been very fickle for me lately, but this week she dropped a line into my brain at 2:00am and I was smart enough to type it out and send it to @pools-of-venetianblue so that I wouldn’t forget in the morning.
I finished writing the first chapter today and then recorded it for you. You can read it or listen to it at the link above.
I can’t even tell you how excited I am to be reading this one for you! Please give it a listen and when you finish, hop over to AO3 and give the original work all the kudos and comments you can muster. It deserves it!
Summary: You couldn’t understand why Strike was so mad with you, the case was solved, you had got the person responsible and no one was really hurt.
Note: First time writing for Strike, so thought I would do a little one shot to see how it worked out.
Cormoran stepped outside and leaned heavily on the wall in front of him, taking a deep breath he rummaged in his pockets and lit a cigarette. As he he took a deep pull he noticed his hand shaking as he lowered it down. He could feel the anger bubbling inside him as he took a second drag, what in the hell had she been thinking, she was lucky to be alive.
As you watched Strike walk outside you could feel Wardle watching you,
“Go and speak to him before he hits something”
“I don’t know what he is so angry about, we got him, this is over”
“Y/N/N come on you know why is angry, now go talk to him”
Walking outside you saw him leaning on the walk smoking, looking out over the city,
“You ok?”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t answer just kept smoking and looking away from you, you could see the tension in his shoulders.
“Could you stop ignoring me and let me know you are ok?”
Strike spun around to face you, you could see the anger across his face as he dropped the end of his cigarette on the floor and crushed it with his foot. Closing the gap between you, he loomed over you,
“Of all the bloody stupid things you could have done, I fail to understand what the hell you thought you were doing. Of all the reckless, fucking idiotic…..”
You could feel his breath on your face as he yelled at you, you stood your ground, you knew maybe now was the time to back down but you couldn’t make yourself do it. It took everything you had not to square your shoulders to him and retaliate.
Strike watched you, he was used to people backing down when he tried to intimidate them, but of course you weren’t going to, he noticed the flinch of the shoulders as you resisted the urge to square up to him, for fucks sake you were actually thinking about squaring up to him. But that was you never backed down, you called him out when he needed it, that was one of the things he admired about you, hell it was one of things he loved about you. And there was the problem, he knew that was why he had acted the way he did, he had gone and fallen in love with you.
“Strike I have no idea what your problem is right now, no one is hurt, and we got him, we solved the case. So right now, I fail to see why you are yelling at me”
Throwing his hands in the air, he turned away and lit another cigarette.
“Strike if you are not going to have a proper conversation with me then I’m going home and we can sort everything else out in the office on Monday”.
When you didn’t get a reply you shrugged and headed off, you were not going to bang your head against a brick wall. He was one stubborn son of a bitch when he wanted to be.
“You know you could just tell her how you feel”
Wardle walked across to Strike and leant on the wall beside him.
“Don’t know what you are talking about Wardle”
“There is only one reason you are kicking off at her right now and you know it”
“Wardle just bugger off”
“Strike don’t be a knob, just go find her and be honest with her, for all off our sakes, you two have been dancing around each other long enough”
By the time you got back home you were angrier than you had been when you had left Strike, you had done a good job. You found and taken down the subject and no one had gotten hurt, well not really hurt. Ok you had taken a bullet, but you had been wearing a vest and it had taken the hit, the worst you were going to have was a bloody nasty bruise. You hadn’t thought about it when the gun went off, you had just reacted instinctively, when you had heard the shot you had grabbed Strike and pulled him out of the way, putting yourself between him and the shooter.
As he took a seat on the tube his mind replayed what had happened this afternoon, he felt his stomach lurch as the image of you hitting the ground as the shot rang out forced it way into his mind. He hadn’t realised what was happening as you had grabbed hold of him and pulled him out of the way, the bullet was meant of him and in that moment before he realised you were wearing a vest, he had thought he had lost you.
After a hot shower and a change of clothes you slumped on the sofa, placing a bottle of whisky and a glass on the table in front of you. As you leant over to pour yourself a good measure you winced as pain shot through the bruise on your torso. You cursed, it wasn’t the pain, you weren’t lying when you said that it had been instinct, that you hadn’t thought about it when you had put yourself between Strike and the bullet. But you knew if you had had chance to think about it first you would still have done it, you couldn’t bear to see him hurt, to lose him. No matter how hard you tried to deny it you knew you were in love with him, you hadn’t meant to fall, it had crept up on you and no matter how hard you tried to shake it you couldn’t. Pouring yourself another drink you lay back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, absent-mindedly you thought about eating but before you could get any further there was a knock on your door.
Opening the door you found Strike on your doorstep,
“Can we talk?”
Stepping back, you let him in, closing the door you gestured for him to take a seat and returned to you spot on the sofa next to him.
“Drink?”
“Thanks”
Pouring a second glass of whisky you passed it to Strike, as you did you chanced a glance up at him. You were trying to tell if he was still angry and if he was here just to have another go at you. Settling back into your seat you took a sip of your drink and waited for Strike to speak, you could tell he was obviously turning something over in his head, but you knew there was no point in pushing him.
“I shouldn’t have shouted at you earlier, I’m sorry”
You remained silent, waiting for him to continue,
“How are you, are you hurt from earlier?”
“Bit of a bruise but I’ve had worse”
Strike gazed down into his drink and you saw him swallow hard, you knew he was a man of few words but he was starting to make you nervous.
“Look if you have come here to sack me, can you just get on with it”
“What, I am not here to sack you, why would you think that?”
“Well given how you were this afternoon…”
“You scared the hell out of me, I thought……”
“You thought what?”
“I thought I had lost you”
His voice was barely more than a whisper as he drained his glass, leaning forward you let out a hiss of pain as you refilled his glass.
“Christ you are hurt, why didn’t you say?”
His eyes were clouded with concern as he moved closer to you,
“I’m fine, as I said just a bruise”
“Just let me check you out, you could have cracked a rib or….”
“I would know it I had cracked a rib”
“Please humour me”
Lifting your t-shirt you showed Strike the bruise, you flinched as he brushed his fingers over your tender skin.
“You shouldn’t have done that this afternoon, that bullet was meant for me”
“I had a vest on, I knew I would be ok, you didn’t”
“I didn’t know that, I thought…..”
“Its ok, I’m ok”
Tentatively reaching up you cupped his face with your hand, he closed his eyes and leant into your hand.
“I could have lost you”
“You didn’t, I’m here, right here”
Opening his eyes, he looked up at you from under his long lashes, you felt your breath catch in your chest. Gently, tentatively, giving him chance to stop you, you pressed your lips against his. They were soft and warm and as you deepen the kiss, he parted his lips to yours, every fibre in your being hummed at his touch. Breaking the kiss to draw breath you looked deep into his beautiful brown eyes.
“I’m right here if you want me”
“Y/Y/N are you saying that you want me?”
“With all of my heart, I just never thought you could ever want me”
“How could you think I would not want you, you are perfect”
‘Believe me I am anything but perfect, but I think there is something special here and it is too good not to act on”
Strike was silent, staring at you and as the silence stretched out you could feel your heart sinking. How could you have gotten it so wrong, he had just kissed you back, a kiss full of emotion, full of passion, a kiss that felt so right. As the silence continued you felt the panic rising inside of you, the urge to run, try and save yourself. You bolted off the sofa, you couldn’t look into those deep brown eyes any longer, couldn’t bear to see the disappointment, the sympathy. Before you could run out of the room, one of Strike’s hands enclosed around your wrist and stopped you. Standing up he looked down at you, he could feel you tremble under his touch. Cupping your face he pulled you to him and kissed you, this kiss was not tentative, it was crushing and passionate and overwhelming.
Silently you took his hand and lead him through o the bedroom, standing in front of him you unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders onto the floor you pressed your lips to the soft curve at the front of his neck. Running your hands over his broad chest you let your tongue run up over his neck and across the strong line of his jaw.
You felt his fingers slide under the hem of your t-shirt as he lifted it up over your head, stepping behind you he planted soft kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders as he undid the clasp on your bra and discarded that too. Reaching his hands around he cupped your breasts and pulled you back against him as he continued to trail kisses up your neck. You writhed against him as he turned you and pushed you down onto the bed, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants he pulled them down over your legs, taking in every inch of you. Leaning over you he trailed soft kisses across your stomach, pulling your panties down to leave you completely naked under his gaze, as his warm breath hit the skin on your thighs you felt your legs tremble. Undoing his belt he let his trousers fall to the floor and he removed his prostheses before crawling up the bed until he was hovering over you. He ran his tongue over your nipples, sucking and nipping until you arched up to meet him. Pushing you back down he ran his tongue down over your stomach and planted soft teasing kisses on your inner thighs.
You moaned as you felt his finger run over your wet clit, gently pushing his finger inside of you he pressed his mouth over your clit and sucked until you thought you were going to come there and then. Looking up at him you could see the smile on his lips as he dipped his head to push his tongue inside of you, swirling his tongue he tipped you over the edge, gasping his name you slumped back on the bed panting.
Before you could recover his hands were back on you cupping your breasts and his lips were on yours, kissing you hard, you could taste yourself on him. Wrapping your legs around him you flip him onto his back, holding his hands above his head you ran your tongue down over his chest, you felt his groan rumble in his chest as you trailed your tongue down over the soft hair on his chest. He lifted his hips as you pulled his boxers down to let his hard cock spring free, taking it in your hand you circled your tongue over the glistening tip. His hips bucked as you heard him swear under his breath, smiling you straddled him and slowly lowered yourself onto him until he filled you completely. Lifting your hips you began to slowing ride him as he arched his back, pushing himself deeper inside of you. Pulling up until just the tip was still inside of you, you pulsed gently before lowering yourself back down again, growling he flipped you over. Wrapping your legs around him you pulled him deeper into as you felt your climax rising again, he picked up his pace and as you bucked under him and came over his hard cock, you felt him thrust again as your muscles contracted around him and he came hard inside of you.
As you both came back down he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, gently kissing you.
“Just to check, you are staying right here, this wasn’t just a….”
“As I said I am right here if you want me and not just for tonight”
“I am hoping that that just showed you how much I want you”
Full size versions available for download on Google Drive: 1920x1080|2736x1824
// talk to me / spill the secrets you’ve been keeping / life cuts deep / let me help pick up the pieces / you’re not alone, i’m by your side / don’t you know, i’ll walk through fire with you / i’m not an angel, i’m not a saint / i’ve been a closed book full of mistakes / but when you’re broken, when you’re in pain / i’ll walk through fire with you // (walk thru fire by vicetone)
Given the events of 2020, it seems almost inappropriate to say we wish you a “merry Christmas” or even “have a jolly holiday”. Nor can we pretend that because it’s Christmas that everything will instantly be better.
How do we even find the right words that might bring some comfort when there are a magnitude of reasons for why this year has been personally awful. We all know someone who has sadly passed away because of this virus, or is in hospital, or is still suffering from the long term effects. We all know a person (or it may even be ourselves) whose mental health has seriously suffered from being isolated in lockdown; whose relationships have been strained; who has lost their job or is worried that they soon will. Each is deeply personal and we cannot even begin to comprehend what some people might have gone through.
Last Christmas Eve, we said “you are not alone”, and there will have been many times this year when we have all pretty much felt he opposite.
Remember that you’re not alone in being alone. There will be others out there in similar circumstances to you. You may not be aware of them; they might not even be talking about it publicly or on social media, but they are out there. Someone put in far better than us by saying “we are all in different boats but we are all in the same storm.” Some of those boats will be similar to your own; some will be closer together whilst others are further apart. But we have all gone through these last nine months together, and we will do so for the months ahead.
Many of us have had to rip up our Christmas plans - and for some that means spending the festive period alone. We are both spending our Christmas and New Year apart from our families and friends, and we imagine that many of you will also be in the same position. All we can say is: tomorrow, do what makes you happy. Plan on what will keep you busy and just take it hour by hour. This Christmas will be different, there’s no denying that. It’s to be expected that we will all feel jaded, lost, sad or angry at some point. For anyone starting to worry about being alone/lonely tomorrow, we recommend comedian Sarah Millican’s Christmas day chat on Twitter (using the hashtag #JoinIn) which anyone can take part. And if in doubt, there are always the Strike books and TV series to keep occupied tomorrow!
Speaking of which, if there have been any highlights in this nightmare year, then it would obviously be Strike: Lethal White and the publication of Troubled Blood.
Lethal White brought us four hours of escapism, and countless more in re-watches, discussion, and getting creative with memes, GIFs, and artwork. It was the perfect tonic and after a 2 ½ year wait, it was just so special to see Tom and Holliday back on screen together and at the top of their game. Who would have thought that we would have been watching Lethal White with some nostalgia of the time when we could all walk down the high-street together, visit the pub, or simply hugging our “best mate”.
Lethal White perfectly led to the long awaited 5th Strike novel and for many the book of the year: Troubled Blood. A book that was so rich in detail, characters, locations, and plot twists. A book that was mammoth in size and in weight - it was what we all needed going into this difficult autumn/winter period. Oh, and the further development of Cormoran and Robin’s relationship that warmed all our hearts!
Personally, we can only hope that during this year there might have been some content posted on here that offered you some brief distraction, insight, excitement, or even some laughter. Should you find yourself at a loose end tomorrow, or over the festive period, we have put together a Cormoran Strike word search, which can be downloaded here:
We know it’s not much but it might while away an hour of boredom. If you have been following the daily location posts, then those are carrying on over the festive period - tomorrow sees a long post on Hampton Court Palace. In the new year we will be taking your musical requests for the 2nd edition of Strike: The People’s Playlist.
On a personal note, we both want to finish with two words:
“Thank you.”
Thank you if you visit or follow us. We’re not sure why because we think a lot of what we post is of little interest.
Thank youfor taking part in the Troubled Blood predictions, Strike: The People’s Playlist, and the Strike 2021 Calendar. It’s always an uphill challenge trying to get people to participate in any fandom community events, and we often wonder if it’s worth the time, so we are forever grateful for those who did take the time.
Thank you for your contributions wherever they may be in the Strike fandom. Whether that’s fan-fiction, gifs, artworks or discussion. You might post, comment, like, etc. on a regular basis or only once in a while, but each contribution is of equal value and helps enrich and grow a fandom.
Thank you for being adults; for being able to have insightful discussions; to agree and to disagree and to give constructive criticism; for respecting the views of others and to still all be able to get along. This year has been difficult on a number of subject fronts but having sensible discussions and listening to differing opinions ishealthy.
Thank you for looking out for each other, for offering help, support, and comforting words. More than ever it was needed.
Thank you for the laughs. Because it makes everything instantly less bad.
Thank you.
All that is left for us to say is we wish you a safe Christmas and hopefully a more positive new year.
Today is World Mental Health Day and it’s never been more important, especially given how tough this year has been for many.
It’s okay to feel down. It’s okay to feel lost and scared. It’s okay to feel angry. Everyone’s experience of mental health is different but you are never truly alone.
Don’t be afraid to reach out and talk to someone. Because you are NOT a burden and people will want to listen. Help can come from the most surprising of places.
It will get better. The dark will become light once again.
“What I think about you and the job is that you are brilliant at it. I had a decade of training. I did hundreds of cases with SIB. You’ve had none of that, and you’re just as good as me. It’s actually quite annoying.”
As he chewed now, Strike thought that he would never again be able to taste the tart-spicy-sweet sticking to the roof of his mouth without seeing Robin as she was now, her hair a tangled mess around her face, golden and shining where it was hit by the sparse light filtering through his tiny bedroom window; legs long and bare and freckled and folded underneath her, her toast balancing precariously on her knee and mug clutched tightly in her hands for warmth – her fingers were often cold in the early morning, he knew. And without intending it, without conscious thought, the words bubbled up and out – thickly, through a mouthful of toast and marmalade.
