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crushmeeren · 7 months

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Crowley/Fem Reader/Aziraphale

Warnings; Bottom! Crowley, Top! Aziraphale, my version of Soft Dom! Reader, Anal Sex, Rimming, Vaginal Sex, Female Anatomy/Pronouns, Reader does wear a strap on!

Note; I wrote this entire thing as a request and I FUCKING FORGOT TO MAKE THE READER A DEMON, IM SORRY REQUESTOR 😭 I hope you and everyone else still enjoy 🥲

AO3 Link; Escapades🪽

Word Count; 6.2k

It always starts the same way. Crowley stumbles upon a new sexual escapade he wants the three of you to experience in the bedroom. Then the sneaky bastard riles up you and Aziraphale, way too easily if you’re being honest, and then three of you end up tumbling into the bedroom. You’re learning, way too late into the evening, that Crowley had been made aware of what pegging is. The red headed demon absolutely got more than a little drunk with Nina and Maggie last night, and consequently ended up with more details of their sex life than he wanted.

The only part he couldn’t shake off, was when they mentioned the pegging, and how mind blowing the experience can be. They talked about how ridiculously hot it can be, not to mention how good it feels, having your female partner, who doesn’t naturally have a dick, fuck you with more or less a cock of their own.

As soon as the the images flashed behind his eyes, he felt his cheeks burn. He took a sip of his scotch and he felt warmth spread through his belly pleasurably. He knows it’s not from the alcohol and for fucks sake, he just couldn’t resist being interested, the idea stuck to his brain like glue. It stayed with him the entire night. He, with extreme difficulty, was able to keep himself from getting rock hard that night. The thought of your smaller frame underneath him threatening to send blood rushing south.

That would’ve been too embarrassing if he spontaneously had to leave his impromptu drinking session with the girls because he couldn’t get his boner to go away. Truthfully, he had thought about being fucked by you often. Thinking about getting railed by you made his dick throb involuntarily. He knows the Angel wants it as well. He and Aziraphale had spoken about it, in great detail, before. He’d even had the Angel wrap a hand around his cock, whisper sweet nothings into his ear about you fucking him until he’d cum so hard his sticky release had hit him in the face.

Surprisingly enough, the two of them had never heard of or come across pegging before, leading them to believe it was never going to be an option. The fact that it was, is the reason Crowley showed up eagerly late the next day at the bookshop with a fucking strap on in his hands. You attempt to burn holes in his skull as your gaze flickers between the item in his hand and his smug looking face. Your eye twitches.

“Pegging?” you ask in disbelief, eyebrow raised as you cross your arms and push out one of your hips. Warmth pools in your belly at the mention of it, it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. They had never brought it up so you just assumed they weren’t interested in that. You can see you were clearly wrong.

The three of you are in the bookshop, Aziraphale at his desk, reading glasses on the bridge of his nose as he looks over one of his books about “the art of prestidigitation”, as he likes to call it. Once he saw what the demon was holding he immediately turned back to his desk and started to try extremely hard to pointedly not listen to the conversation that you and Crowley began having. He ignored the way his cheeks burned, and the butterflies that filled his belly when Crowley started talking.

“Yes love, ever heard of it?” Crowley replies in a teasing tone of voice, smirking as he takes his black glasses off, setting them down on a nearby surface. He turns to face you again, stretching out his arm to wiggle the strap on at you, fake dick and all bobbing about in the wind. You roll your eyes at him, before narrowing your gaze. Sometimes you can’t believe the blunt audacity Crowley has, but when he gets these ideas it usually works out in the end so you haven’t turned him down yet. Laughing incredulously, you tilt your head and you reply with just as much attitude.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it, I’m just surprised you haven’t, I didn’t realize you had that little experience Crowley.” Uncrossing your arms you place them on your hips. You smile with fake innocence and make eye contact with him. You see his smirk grow even wider as he tilts his head back in amused laughter. Eyes coming to rest on your face, Crowley steps closer to you, getting into your space and looking down at you.

You can feel some of the heat radiating from him and you resist the urge to blush. You stare up at him, not backing down. The demon wraps his warm, slim fingers around your hip, slipping his thumb under your shirt, softly rubbing the skin over the bone there. You bite your lip to hold back a soft moan and the air between the two of you starts to thicken like warm honey. Crowley trails a finger softly down your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as he leans closer, lips softly brushing your cheek before he whispers in your ear. The bastard knows what he’s doing and you fall for it every time.

“Well then, I suppose I’m gonna need you to show me what it means to get fucked hmm? My pretty goddess,” he coos, voice smooth and low as he kisses your earlobe, then he moves to press a kiss into the sensitive skin of your neck. The feeling of his breath tickling your skin as he mouths at your throat makes your body flush, warm arousal instantly shooting to your belly. You almost forgot the Angel was here when you and Crowley hear the sound of a page ripping and Aziraphale cursing softly in the background.

——————————————————

As you expected, Crowley is the most eager to get pegged first. The idea has been rolling around in his brain the most lately and he’s aching for it. Furthermore he’s a little shit who always gets what he wants. So Aziraphale, living up to his title as Angel once again, caves easily to the demons request. He really can’t say no to his pretty face. Crowley promises him he’ll reward him in return, whispering sweetly to him and kissing his cheeks as the two climb onto the bed.

You had decided to leave that decision up to the two of them, knowing nobody is going to get left out either way. Aziraphale really doesn’t mind, he knows no matter what he’s going to feel good. Whether it’s watching you and Crowley put on a show for him or he’s actively participating, he’s just so happy to be a part of it.

After you’ve flipped off the overhead light, you turn on a lamp in corner of the room. It glows a comforting soft yellow and makes the space feel much more intimate. Despite the soothing light, you unfortunately spent about 10 irritating minutes cursing and figuring out how to get the damn strap on hooked to your hips and under your thighs correctly. You walk over to stand at the end of the bed, near the edge as you finish securing it in place.

Aziraphale and Crowley are on the bed, completely bare as they kiss eagerly in front of you. You hum softly in approval as you listen to the slick sound of their lips meeting over and over. They are both raised up on their knees, facing each other, giving you a pretty picture of their side profiles as they make out. Aziraphale is holding Crowleys waist and in turn Crowley wraps his arms around the Angels neck. He plays with the soft white curls at the nape of Aziraphales neck and the Angel tugs Crowley closer into his chest by his hips.

You feel your pussy getting slick and it throbs beneath the strap on. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your bottom lip. Gods, they just look so fucking hot together. They are your wet dream and you let your eyes trail up and down their bodies, noticing both of their flushed, hard cocks rubbing together with every tiny movement they make. The tips of their cocks shiny with precum as they continue to lightly thrust against each other. You have the urge to reach out and wrap one hand around both of them, feeling the warm, silky skin and jerking them off together. You file that thought away and save it for later.

You hear a soft groan, which you recognize comes from the demon and your eyes snap upwards to see he’s already looking at you. His yellow eyes watching you intensely. You realize he was trying to get your attention and you raise an eyebrow at him. He keeps eye contact with you and he smiles into the kiss with Aziraphale. Crowley makes sure you can see his forked tongue as he slips it into the Angels mouth, making Aziraphale gasp softly and open up easily for him.

Your pussy clenches around air and your fingers dig into your palm as you see their tongues roll together. Crowley turns his attention back to his heated kiss with the Angel, closing his eyes again. You notice Aziraphales cheeks are a pretty pink as they start to really get into it, Aziraphale digging his nails into the demons skin. They lean into each other and you see Crowleys hand start to trail down Aziraphales chest. He drags his nails over the Angels stomach, making a move to reach for the Angels cock.

“No,” you order him, quite casually, and his hand stops in its place. Crowley whines into Aziraphales mouth and breaks away from the kiss. The Angel pants and leans forward as if he’s chasing the demons lips. Turning his head to look at you, bottom lip sticking out, Crowley keeps his other hand perched on the Angels shoulder as his chest heaves. They both have a pretty flush and Aziraphale decides to rest his forehead against Crowleys shoulder.

“You’re no fun darling,” Crowley pouts, trying to give you wide, puppy eyes.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you say sarcastically, fake gasping and bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. Crowley narrows his eyes playfully and sticks his tongue out at you. He pushes back from the Angels grip and Aziraphale sits back on his calves, hands continuing to rest gently on Crowleys lean waist. You get a sense that the demon is actively trying to push you as Crowleys cock twitches when he makes a show of running his hand down his chest, inching closer to his own dick. You know he’s definitely testing your patience on purpose, but you keep your face neutral when you speak. He knows you’re the one in charge here and you won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see the flash of agitation that courses through you.

“Crowley,” you say warningly, voice low as you keep your eyes on his face. He freezes the movement of his hand and reluctantly rests both hands on Aziraphales shoulders. Crowleys behavior isn’t unusual though, as he usually tries to see how much he can tip toe the line before you punish him and it’s clear he just wants to act like a brat tonight. You sniff once and decide to ignore him, knowing it’ll piss him off. You look at Aziraphale, who gives you a sweet smile, letting his palms rest on the tops of his thighs now. You return the smile, feeling your love for the Angel blossom warmly in your chest. He’s such a good boy for you.

“Angel, you’ve been so good, you can relax for a moment, why don’t you come here and sit next to me,” you purr, praising him. He blushes and you see his pretty pink cock kick at your sweet praise. He eagerly nods his head and starts to move away from Crowley, who makes a noise of protest in response.

“Yes my love,” he replies obediently, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, close to you, with his feet on the floor. He leans his weight back on his hands as he angles his body slightly toward you. His cock leans against his lower belly, drooling slightly and he obeys the unspoken rule of not touching himself.

You reach over to run your fingers through the Angels soft hair once affectionately. You get a soft hum in return. Focusing back on Crowley you move your fingers in a come hither motion, waiting for Crowley to obey you. Surprisingly he does so without protest, crawling forward on his knees and then sitting on his haunches in front of you. You glance at Aziraphale, making sure he’s watching. You know it turns the Angel on, he loves to witness you be more dominant, especially when it’s directed at the demon. Your eyes meet his pretty blue ones and you wink at him, smiling cheekily. The Angel feels a thrill tingle down his spine.

You turn your gaze back to Crowley, who seems to be annoyed he didn’t have your undivided attention. You giggle at his expression, which makes his cheeks turn red. His pretty lips tug into a scowl. You smile, not kindly, and bring your hand up, wrapping your fingers around his jaw tightly, forcing his head straight to look into your eyes. Your fingers press into his warm skin and his snake like eyes widen a bit, tracking back and forth. You make a tsk sound and shake your head softly in disappointment. He watches you, his eyes half lidded. You bend closer, getting into his face and you whisper menacingly, eyes sharp.

“If you try to break my rules again Crowley, I’m gonna have our Angel finger you open and then I’m gonna fuck him instead and make you watch from the side. I’ll tie your hands behind your back if I have too,” you growl, squeezing his jaw tightly as you lean back. Crowley stares at you, unblinking, unable to let his mouth fall open due to your tight grip. Your words sent heat blazing down his spine and straight to his cock. You hear Aziraphales soft groan from your left and you look over at him, admiring the way his hands clench the sheets beneath his fingers, knuckles white. His chest is pink now as well and you can see his dick jump occasionally as he watches you and Crowley. You smirk and look back at Crowley when he whines in his throat.

“Do you hear me?” you ask firmly, raising an eyebrow. Crowley nods the best he can. “Say it,” you demand, dropping your grip on his jaw.

“Y-yes I understand my love,” he chokes out, chewing on his bottom lip. You nod once in approval. Moving away from them both, you slip around to the side of the bed, getting up and crawling to lay down near the headboard. The two of them have turned to watch you, eyes lustful as they watch you lay your head on one of the pillows. You bend your legs and plant your feet, digging your toes into the soft sheets below. Raising up on your elbows, you give the others a pointed look, seeing as they both have remained silent.

“Well? Come here my pretty little demon, sit in my lap,” you purr, fingers coming up to motion him forward. Crowley wastes no time and crawls up the bed toward you, looking excited at what’s to come. He gets between your legs and slips through, a leg on each side of your hips as he sits down. The movement causes his hard, overly heated cock to make contact with the cool material of the strap on and he jolts a little, rubbing his cock further against yours and he cries out. Your hands shoot out to grip his waist, keeping him still and he shifts his weight, getting used to the feeling. Once you’ve got him steady you decide it’s time to get your Angel involved.

“Angel,” you call out, “do you mind coming up here and stretching open our bratty demon please? I’ll give you a treat afterwards,” Smirking, you run your thumbs over Crowleys hip bones and he moans lowly. You hear Aziraphale giggle happily.

“Of course dear, you know I love getting him ready,” he teases. You hear the sheets rustle as he comes up behind Crowley, hearing the sharp cracking sound of skin on skin as the demon yelps and you giggle. Crowley scowls at you as Aziraphale bends him over, forcing the demon to place a hand on either side of your head to balance his weight and expose his pretty arse. You frame his face with your hands, thumbs running over his cheeks.

“What’s wrong you naughty little demon? I thought you liked getting spanked,” you tease, grinning cheekily. His frown deepens and he pokes your cheek.

“Don’t be mean doll,” he says, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he lets out a low groan. You can’t see what’s going on but you know Azirphale must’ve started fingering him. You remember the feel of having your fingers sucked into Crowleys tight, slick heat and your pussy aches to be filled. You try to ignore the sensation and your lips pull into an amused smile as you hear the little choked moans Crowley lets out as his arse is stretched open by the Angels thick fingers. You’re no stranger to the feeling and you know Crowleys on cloud 9.

“How many fingers has he taken Angel?” you ask curiously after a moment, letting go of the demons face and running your fingers through Crowleys soft red hair as he lets his weight relax onto your chest, forehead on the mattress right next to your head, arse propped up into the air. The slick tip of Crowleys cock leaves a sticky kiss on your lower belly when he shifts his weight. You shiver lightly as you feel what must be Aziraphales free hand, smoothly tickling his fingers up your inner thigh, wanting to touch you too. You moan gently at his touch.

“He’s already taken two, seems as if our dearest was eager for this,” he teases, with a sweet laugh as he presses his fingers inside of Crowley again, making the demon jolt forward. His arms instantly snake under your head and around your neck as he buries his face into your neck.

“Ah!” he cries out, thrusting his hips forward, accidentally rubbing the tip of his flushed cock against yours again, which makes him curse loudly. You grit your teeth because by this point, listening to them both, feeling Crowley writhe around as he’s finger fucked, you’re so unbelievably turned on, so wet you can feel it trail from your pussy down to your arse. The ache for one of them to fill you is so strong. Your cheeks burn, but you have enough self control and a plan to get through this. You know one of them is going to be fucking you at the end. So, trying to shove your own arousal down your throat, you continue to shower Crowley with filthy, sweet nothings as he gets stretched open.

“Oh my you cheeky little pup, is the Angel making your sweet arse feel so good? Hmm pretty baby?” you coo to Crowley, wrapping your arms around his upper back to keep him in place with his arse in the air. Crowley always loves any sort of dirty talk that flows from your mouth.

“Oh fuck! Yes, yes so good, shit, please love, want you inside of me, I want to ride you,” he pants, moaning against your neck, his breath heating your skin. He writhes in your hold and tightens his arms around your neck, letting out a whimper. You hum in acknowledgment, deciding to check in with Aziraphale, if nothing else but to annoy the demon further.

“Is he ready Angel?” you ask casually, running your hand up and down Crowleys upper back. You see Aziraphales adoring smile as you look over Crowleys shoulder and the Angel nods quickly.

“Yes dear, our old boy is definitely ready, he’s being such a good boy and taking all of what I give him,” Aziraphale praises, running his free hand soothingly over Crowleys lower back. The demon just moans in response, teeth digging in slightly at the base of your neck. You feel another heady pulse of arousal in your pussy at the sharp sting of his teeth and you bite your lower lip hard enough you think it might split. Letting out a breath of air steadily through your nose you reply, letting him know just what you had in mind for him.

“Good job Angel, I told you I wouldn’t leave you out yeah? I want you to sit on my face and let me eat your sweet arse while Crowley rides me okay?” you say, voice gentle but with no room for argument. You know Aziraphale gets shy admitting it but he loves sitting on your face and letting you lick at his hole until he cums hard, hips moving wildly. You fucking love it and you usually save it for times like this. Getting crushed under the Angels soft, thick thighs, you’d die happily. You hear the choked out moan that leaves lips as he slips his fingers free from Crowley and crawls out from behind the demon, who did let out a groan at the feeling of loss.

“Yes love, whatever you say,” he says easily, trying to keep his voice casual as he maneuvers himself until he’s sitting next your head on his haunches. You laugh, amused.

“Shit, that’s gonna make me cum so fast if I’m watching you eat his arse and riding you,” Crowley whimpers, complaining into your skin. You grin wickedly and unwind your arms from his shoulders. You push at his chest, getting him unstick himself from you and sit up in your lap.

“Well that’s good because I’m not letting you touch your cock this time, you wanted this so bad? Well you’re gonna work for it,” you tell him, running your hands over his slender thighs. His lips turn downward into a pout but he doesn’t argue, not so secretly loving being bossed around by you. You hear Aziraphale chuckle gently from beside you.

“Okay my little love, can we please get on with it?” Crowley says, wiggling his hips impatiently. He’s still hard and his cock bobs with his movements. Your pink tongue darts out to run it over you lips and you pat the sides of his hips, urging him to raise up. He raises to his knees but you think this would probably start out better if he got onto his feet.

“Crowley, love, I want you to get into a squatting position to ride me, it’ll be better that way,” you say, watching his eyebrows raise.

“Are you bloody serious? That’s gonna be so much harder!” he whines. You just stare at him, letting him know it’s an order not a suggestion. He purses his lips and dramatically moves into position. Planting his feet and leaning forward to brace his hands gently on your chest, squeezing your breasts.

“Don’t be such a brat, you know I’ll help you if you need it sweet thing,” you coo, smirking up at him. You bring your hand down to grip the base of your cock, wrapping your fingers around it and bracing it upwards, running the tip of it over Crowleys still very slick hole and you watch his eyes flutter as he moans and starts to sink downwards.

“Fine, fine, just don’t tease,” he pants, tilting his head down to watch you start to stretch his arse and disappear inside of him. You bring your free hand to his hip and tilt them towards you by an inch and just like that the head pops in, past his rim. He lets out a choked out sound, hands gripping your breasts tightly. You bite the tip of your tongue and let go of your cock while he seats himself fully, letting your cock stretch his sensitive rim completely. You let your hands rest on the sheets as you study him.

You’re letting Crowley adjust to your cock filling his arse for a second when you hear a soft whine come from your right side. You turn your head to see Aziraphale still sitting on his calves, clenching his hands into fists where they rest on his thighs, face bright red. You see his cock twitch a couple times, coming back to slap softly against his belly. You can tell how worked up he is by now. You know it won’t take too much to push him over the edge. He must be on the edge of bursting from not touching himself all this time. He’s such a good Angel for listening and you definitely didn’t forget about him.

“Oh don’t worry my sweet, I didn’t forget about you, I’m gonna let you sit on my face soon okay? I’m just letting our princess here get adjusted, you’re being such a good Angel for me,” you say soothingly, reaching a hand out rub his thigh.

“I know my love, it’s just so enchanting watching the way Crowley rides you,” he says, brushing hair off your forehead. You smile smugly.

“Well enjoy the show then Angel,” you tease and turn back to face Crowley, who seems to have his bearings about him again. You slip your hands under his arse, gripping his flesh, and press upwards, biceps flexing as he raises up. He uses his thighs and feet to balance as he starts to ride you with your help. He lets go of your breasts and braces his hands on his knees, using them as leverage as he starts to bounce. As you help him get into a rhythm you feel your own arousal hit you like a freight train again. You watch where your cock slides into Crowley, filling him over and over while his mouth hangs open. His eyes are shut and he looks so fucking sexy bouncing on your cock.

“Fuck Crowley,” you breathe, “you look absolutely unbelievable. Does it feel good sweet thing?” you purr, voice soft as your arms start to ache a bit from helping him move. He opens his eyes to look at you, letting out a whine. He feels his legs start to burn a little bit, but the angle is fucking amazing and he’s able to hit that spot that makes his entire body shake, pleasure shooting through his limbs like electricity every time. It easily makes him feel like he’s gonna cum in no time at all.

“Shit! Ah, fuck, yes it feels so so good darling,” he babbles as he jolts harshly. You think he must’ve been hitting his sweet spot. Thinking you can probably let him keep up the pace on his own now, you take your hands out from under him. Looking over to Aziraphale he seems to be entranced watching the demon ride you.

“Aziraphale, sit on my face lovely,” you say softly, snapping him out of it. He looks down at you and nods eagerly. “Kiss me first though Angel,” you request, smiling coyly.

“Yes, okay, I’m so ready dear,” he says, voice bright as he bends down, pressing his soft lips to yours firmly. You moan into his mouth as he rolls his lips firmly against yours a few times. You bite his bottom lip sharply and turn your head, breaking the kiss. You wink at him in approval and he takes that as his cue to raise to his knees, shuffling closer and throwing a leg over your head. He’s facing Crowley as he hovers over your mouth, making heated eye contact with the demon, noticing Crowley was watching the two of you kiss as he kept a steady rhythm bouncing on your cock.

You see the Angels thick arse above you and your tongue runs over your bottom lip. For now you resist the urge to bite roughly into his fleshy arse. Wanting to move on you shift your weight and raise your head up to press a soft kiss on Aziraphales arse cheek. You hear the Angel moan lowly. Before you pull the Angel down to devour him, you speak to Crowley once more.

“Crowley my love, you can ride me however you like, but don’t touch yourself, you’re cumming untouched, is that clear?” you say, voice steady and strong. You hear him whine, but he must agree because you feel him sit down fully. He maneuvers his legs until he’s on his knees again. Crowely starts to roll his hips back and forth in your lap, groaning when your cock presses firmly against his sweet spot. You think that’s good enough, not having the patience to make the demon speak. You snake one arm under the Angel and wrap it around Aziraphales thigh. You use the other hand to spank his arse sharply, digging your nails in there and spreading him open. It allows you to see his pretty pink hole. You hear a soft gasp from the Angel as you blow cool air over his heated flesh, feeling goosebumps erupt under the fingers on his thigh.

“Oh- doll, please,” Aziraphale whines. You take mercy on him and pull on his thigh, forcing him to sit and make contact with your mouth. He cries out loudly when he feels your wet, warm tongue swipe over his hole, he digs his fingers into his thighs. You let go of his arse cheek and wrap both arms around his thighs, holding him close as you start to run your tongue up and down over his warm hole, massaging the swirl of skin with your tongue, getting him wet. You feel his thighs tense next to your head.

You start a steady pace with your mouth, licking firmly and dipping the tip of your tongue shallowly in his hole a few times. When you take a moment to suck on the soft skin with your lips it sounds like someone ripped the sounds from the Angels chest. Aziraphales letting out sharp ah sounds with every movement of your tongue, panting hard. You feel Crowley start to bounce again, he must’ve been watching before but he’s moving quickly now. The way his thighs smack against your pelvis has your insides twisting with want. You hear the little whines spilling from his mouth. Aziraphale starts to wail when you press your tongue deeper into his hole, wiggling the warm muscle in as much as you can. You moan against him and he feels the vibrations in his cock.

“Oh! Hah, love-ah! Your mouth, it feels so amazing, I may not last much longer,” Aziraphale whines, rocking his hips. You feel a bit surprised he’s already this close to cumming but you do think about how he hasn’t been able to touch himself this entire time. Fingering Crowley open and then watching him ride you. He must’ve been really close to the edge already. You pull him tighter and really get to work, jaw aching from the effort.

“Already Angel?” Crowley pants, teasing him slightly. Crowley leans forward to brace his hands on the bed by your chest. Aziraphale laughs breathlessly as he rolls his hips back and forth over your mouth, holding onto his thighs for balance.

“You’re one to talk dear, you already look like you’re going to combust,” he cuts off with a groan. Aziraphale can feel the tightening sensation in his belly, cock drooling and jumping as your pretty mouth licks firm stripes against his hole again and again. Crowley isn’t any better, his thighs ache but he won’t have to do much more to make himself cum. Riding you, watching you eat the Angels arse, it’s all too much. Crowley burns, skin sticky with sweat and his limbs tingle pleasurably as the demon climbs the sweet peak of his orgasm.

You take the chance to move a hand from the Angels thigh to wrap around the middle of his shaft. You start to pump your hand quickly, sucking harshly on the soft skin of his hole. The Angels eyes widen, breath catching his chest as his heart hammers, so close to cumming. The next soft lick of your tongue makes Aziraphale still, he throws his head back, his voice loud enough to reach the heavens as he wails, thighs clenching around your head. He’s cumming hard, limbs filling with molten lava as his cock throbs in your hand and he covers it with his sticky release.

“Angel! Oh for fucks sake, that’s not fucking fair,” Crowley gasps, unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. The demons eyes trained on the way Aziraphales face twists in pleasure, his cheeks flushed and his cum all over your hand. He fucks himself back on your cock, two, three more times before he’s sitting down fully, eyes squeezing shut as he rolls his hips. His dick kicks, cum spurting out all over your belly.

“That’s it Crowley, good job dear boy,” Aziraphale purrs, letting you slowly pump his shaft as he gets over sensitive. Feeling your tongue flick slowly over his hole, he groans in his throat. You let go of his cock, patting his thigh twice and the Angel slips off your face to lay on the bed beside you, trying to recover. The Angel must’ve miracled the mess away because you no longer find yourself covered in their releases.

You wipe your saliva covered mouth with the back of your hand, tilting your head up to look at Crowley, who’s still sitting fully in your lap. Hands still braced on either side of you. He’s breathing heavily, chest flushed. You hum happily, seeing both of your boys have been satisfied.

“Look at you Crowley, you were so good, making yourself cum on my cock,” you praise him. He laughs softly, but winces as he raises himself off of your cock, flopping down on your right side. You start to feel where the material of the straps has been digging into your skin and you undo them, pulling them out from under you and taking the strap on off. You sigh in relief and lean up to toss it off to the side, before laying flat.

“Feeling okay my loves?” you ask lovingly, resting a hand on each of their chests. Twin sounds of agreement reach you ears. You’re feeling very content with the evening. Of course, you had hoped one of them would have enough energy to slip inside of you afterwards and make you cum so hard you saw stars, but you knew it didn’t always happen when you wore them out. Really you don’t mind having to take care of yourself sometimes. You let them rest, listening to the sounds of their breathing and take your hand off of the Angels chest to trail it down your belly aiming to touch your clit.

It shocks you when a hand grips your wrist stopping you, it was Aziraphales. You turn to look at him, eyes slightly wide. He raises an eyebrow and smiles shyly.

“I don’t think so my love, let me return the favor,” he says sweetly, letting go of your wrist and sitting up to move around and get in between your thighs. You hear Crowley chuckle from your other side and you look at him as you feel Aziraphale scoot even closer, rubbing his once again hard cock through your slick folds. You shiver and let out a groan.

“We wouldn’t leave you unsatisfied love, especially not after taking care of us so well,” he purrs, smirking and propping himself up on an elbow to watch. You feel Aziraphale guide his cock into your aching pussy, stretching you deliciously as he bottoms out in one thrust. It sends warm waves of pleasure through all your limbs. This feeling is what you’ve been waiting for all night and your back arches into the movement. You wail, letting your eyes flutter shut. The pleasure is unbelievable after waiting for so long, tingles dancing up your spine and warmth pooling quickly in your belly.

You pull the Angel down swiftly and dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he fucks into you fast and rough. He snakes his arms under your back and you let him pound you into the mattress. He makes you cum so hard your vision gets blurry. In the end he makes you cum at least three times. The other two finishing at least once more. Crowley jerking himself off from the side as he watches the Angel fuck you. The three of you end up in a pile under the covers on your shared bed, sleeping soundly. The next morning you wake up thinking that sly demon does have some truly great ideas.

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens smut #good omens fanfiction #good omens season 2 #good omens season 1 #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #aziracrow #aziraphale x reader x crowley #david tennant #michael sheen #crowley x reader #crowley x aziraphale x reader #crowley smut #ineffable husbands

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olderthannetfic · 8 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/727841287119814656/ehh-generally-they-were-like-ask-specifics-about Can you expand on writer’s block not being real?

Sure!

I think everyone who's ever made art has hit points where it's hard to go on making art or where a particular project isn't moving. So from that perspective, sure, a version of it is real...

But there's a particular version of it that's what a lot of people mean where you're A Writer™ and then the magic inspiration gnomes come and steal your inspiration juice. This is mostly nonsense, and quite a few author types who've actually finished long projects will tell you so.

When you sit down to a blank page and it stubbornly stays blank like your head, that's a symptom of something... and the something in question is often either depression and overwhelmed feelings that are taking over your whole life or an entirely correct instinct that your project is flawed and the next step is not writing that next scene.

Many people try to be pantsers instead of planners, get maybe a quarter into a project, and then choke. It's because they started with the kind of concept that requires planning, but they haven't planned. If your plot revolves around the characters eventually learning the meaning of life, you'd damn well better start with what you, the author, think that meaning is and work backwards. Same if your characters are solving a twisty mystery or complicated thriller conspiracy: you will not come up with a genius idea that ties everything together just by writing by the seat of your pants. If you don't go in with the ending in mind and some waypoints to write towards, you're going to choke. This is exceptionally common in grandiose fic concepts that are like "What if this true blue hero were a viiiiillain, oooooh!" where it's neat, but 99% of the point is showing us the work of getting from A to B. People write the prologue showing us the big concept and then flash back to how it all started... and then stop.

I see it a lot in projects that start with a character sheet for RP. Yeah, for RP itself, noodling along and figuring out what X would do in situation Y is great fun... but for many longfic/novel plot types, you will not arrive at a workable plot this way. You'll end up with a mess that can, at best, be used as brainstorming and completely rewritten from the ground up, using only key cool images or character observations. There are authors that start from individual characters and then see where they go. In my experience, they don't tend to be working in the genres that fic fandom types tend to want to work in. It's also something that often takes a lot more experience and skill than starting with a basic plot outline, and inexperienced writers often overreach.

It's not writer's block. It's a project that needs to be taken out back like Old Yeller.

Even the salvageable projects that are making you pause usually have some other issue like you not being clear on the central emotional themes even if you've outlined some factual plot. Or you've demanded that your characters do a particular thing for plot convenience, but you know deep down that it doesn't ring true. You can't write the next scene because there is no next scene. You need to rework the forced part till the rest can make sense.

And even more common than any of the above is people thinking that just because Danielle Steel sits down every morning and writes for eight hours, that means they can and should with no warm up or experience. Trying to force yourself to be a type of writer you're not—majorly overdoing it on any work, in fact—just leads to burnout and inability to function.

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junesprince · 4 months

Text

im sorry if someone has pointed these out already but i replayed p5t again and i am in absolute SHAMBLES with these new observations. i never actually post my thoughts here but i kinda need people to talk to about p5t IM AUTISTIC AND HYPERFIXATED. anyway onto the real post, sorry if this is unorganized and messy. im just really excited

i really wanna talk about the whole event that happens in the 3rd kingdom, on the rooftop.

soo.. when the school crashes and transforms.. it resembles a clock. a train station??? and. said clock is unmoving. what struck me is the time it was stuck on. 6:00pm, or 18:00, the exact time The Train Incident (tm) takes place, and the exact time eri was pushed onto the train tracks at the station.

i guess you could say, toshiro is stuck in the past, unable to move on and process his trauma. it's the extreme guilt of him losing his closest friend and how standing up and rebelling... just ended up in so many people hurt. he can't possibly live bearing the sin of that.

but here's when it gets more interesting... when shadow toshiro was threatening to kill erina, and when erina/eri inspired toshiro to take a stand, he throws joker's knife through the shadows hand, but more specifically, through the gloved hand, the one damaged from the train.

then with a really good sequence, toshiro runs as fast as he possibly can (i wonder how he did that actually) and with flashing memories of him failing to save eri in between, he manages to catch erina before she falls. and... he catches her with his damaged hand. the same hand that failed to save eri, saved erina.

remember the clock from the beginning? it STARTS MOVING AGAIN right after this.

this whole scene is genuinely such a beautiful and symbolistic way to show that toshiro finally found his resolve, and that despite all that trauma in the past, he's ready to change for the better and move again.

oh, and one more thing. toshiros mask only has one eye shown. the left one... the one that eri lost. they have ONE EYE EACH AAAAGHHH!! their souls really are connected.

what gets me more is that one of toshiros catchphrases in combat iirc is "witness OUR power as ONE" and it makes me go insane because he basically sees eri as his hero (here ill quote a futaba dialogue that hit me hard: "natsuhara's like the undefeated heroine in toshiro's life story, huh?") and she made him feel like he's more than just a puppet of his father. she inspired him to take a stand, and while this resulted badly, it led to his LITERAL SOUL subconsciously manifesting into a being heavily based on her (erina)

he just believes that eri/erina is a huge part of who he is. so "witness our power as one"

the fact he doesn't have a real PT outfit disappoints me a bit, but id like to think it's because eri taught him that he doesn't need to become all cool and change himself to rebel. he just needs to be himself. that's really it.

some extra things i have noticed:

-shadow toshiros 'weapon' is basically just bandages. i first thought this was a twisted more distorted version of the bandages eri gave toshiro when they first met (since shadow toshiro claims to despise eri)?? but someone in yt comments pointed out its probably made from eri's bandages after the incident. and i think that makes much more sense

-toshiro is the only persona user that has a persona opposite of his gender... that's kinda... 🏳️‍⚧️ if you ask me...heh (im trans)

-i know many know already but erinas character design is GENIUS . like ... the covered eye and the prosthetic leg?? referencing eri?? SO FUCKING WELL DONE. genuinely one of my fav character designs in persona

-not really an observation but remember the 'thank you instead of sorry' hideout talk where toshiro tells the gang about eri more?? when it was finished and toshiro said "natsuhara-senpai...um, thank you." IT TORE MY HEART STRINGS STOOOPPP

-idk im kinda unnormal about eritoshi. that's all

#persona 5 tactica #persona 5 tactica spoilers #p5t #p5t spoilers #toshiro kasukabe #p5t erina #eri natsuhara #thanks for reading all of this if u did :)#i love this game so much. seriously amazing #i migjt post more of things like this. maybe #eritoshi

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holewithinahole · 10 months

Text

Brown and Green | Olivia Octavius x Reader

Summary: After the accident with the collider, you end up on Earth 1610 in the Alchemax building. Dr Olivia Octavius is here to greet you. You can't help but notice all the resemblances with your own Octavius.

Ao3 Link

Warnings: shameless smut, no genitalia specified, no pronouns specified (reader), tentacle sex, restraints, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fantasising, non-native writer

I hesitated posting it here, but we don't post non-beta'd shit to be a coward. I wrote this in a few hours and took three days to resign myself and just post it. But after seeing Across the Spider-Verse, I had to re-watch the first one and I was, once again, hit in the face by my bisexuality and my obsession towards Dr Octavius. Tell me I'm not the only one...

Oh, reader is part of the Spider-Verse, I wrote with no gender nor genitalia in mind, I hope everyone can enjoy it!

Ok. Let’s do this one more time, shall we?

My name? Not really important because for the last few years, I’ve been the one and only Spiderman. You all know the story by now: being bitten by a radioactive spider which suddenly allows you to skip workout, the loss of a loved one... The usual Spidey-stuff.

I shoot my webs; I swing from Brooklyn to Queens to the Bronx to stop supervillains, rescue cats stuck in trees and help your grandma cross the road.

One day as I was doing my super-work, something weird happened: a flash of light and boom, I was in New York. But not my New York, a new New York. As for where I crashed, well–

“You seem tensed, Spiderman.”

You can feel your bones crack as those weirdly smooth, plastic-y tentacles wrap tighter and tighter around you.

“You, ow–” you hiss, out of breath. “You could say that.”

A shimmering laugh answers you and it’s just so weird. But after all, what could you expect from a parallel universe? You still have a hard time wrapping your head around the whole concept of dimension warping… and alternate versions of your enemies.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Dr Olivia Octavius.” She draws closer, that ridiculously hot smirk at the corner of her lips.

Fuck, can you concentrate for once?

“It sounds like you already knew the answer,” she says. With her free hands, she pulls her curly hair up, rebellious strands framing her face. Is amazing hair a multi-universal law for all Doc Ocks?

“‘Can’t say that I did–” you pause as long gloved fingers slide under the edge of your mask. “Hey! That’s a no-no, lady!”

She snaps the mask right off your face, an interested glimmer in her eyes. You feel like a mouse spread apart for dissection and she sure looks ready to whip out a scalpel. Was she really hiding a complete latex suit underneath her clothes? Not to be the one to pat supervillains on their shoulders to congratulate them on a job well done, but she really mastered the inconspicuous chemistry teacher cosplay.

Focus.

“It is quite fortunate that your portal opened here,” Octavius says conversationally as she readjusts her gloves. “I would have hated to run after you everywhere in the city.”

“Oh, you know me.” Your shrug looks like an uncontrolled twitch of your shoulder. “Always glad to help.”

“Indeed,” she chuckles. She grabs your face, inspecting it from every angle, ignoring your string of offended words. At the corner of your eye, an actuator reaches for a– ah, there is the scalpel. “Now…”

Oh hell no…

“Hey! Hey lady–“ Struggling is pointless and the more you try, the more she grins. “Olivia– can I call you Liv’?”

Octavius laughs. “Only my friends call me Liv.”

“We can be friends I’m sure.” You make sure to put on your best smolder. It looks painfully ineffective. “Or, you know, we can come to an arrangement.”

She raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t answer. She’s not considering it, is she? That’d be a lucky day for the smolder – not that it doesn’t usually work of course (It doesn’t.) You keep smiling but her slow approach makes all your senses – spider and regular, tingle. It takes all of your brain power to tame your fight-or-flight response and not recoil as much as you can.

Are you seriously sweating right now?

“Oh, that’s rich.” Her smile is predatory. “Is it a usual Spiderman tactic to try to seduce their enemies?”

The actuators tighten even more around your torso. The discreet cough you let out widens her smile.

Toothy.

“Perhaps not in your universe.”

You’re relieved when the scalpel is dropped carelessly on the table behind her. Even more relieved when the tentacles lessen their grip around you. Your relief is soon replaced by surprise as one of them curls slowly around your left leg. It’s definitely better than being cut open, right?

“Alright, little spider.” Octavius stares down at you. “I’ll entertain the idea.”

Right?

In a blur, she steps in between your legs, helped by the arm holding your limb hostage. “And to answer your question…” Her hand comes to rest in the dip of your hip, feeling up muscles under her fingertips. Somehow it’s this simple gesture that sends a strong shiver through your nervous system.

“You can call me ‘Doctor’ from now on.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Liv.” The actuator tightens around your throat. “Doctor!”

A low laugh answers you. And that’s just not fair. Octavius has you in the most vulnerable state you’ve ever been in. Except perhaps that time when you had to face Captain Stacy, near the corpse of your bestfrie— oops, no, wrong mind folder. The most physically vulnerable you’ve ever been then.

“You never stop talking, do you?”

Earlier, Octavius had taken all the time in the world to push your arms out of your suit, her actuators handling you like a puppet, until your torso was bare for her to enjoy. You did try to yank at the tentacles keeping both your arms secured behind your back but thanks to whatever kind of sick machinery she put in them, they just wouldn’t budge. You were genuinely impressed at the technology allowing those arms to both be flexible and unbreakable. Even your Octavius had to favor titanium steel when he built his own.

The actuator that isn’t wrapped around your throat – a menacing yet tantalizing statement, or holding your limbs down, creeps from the top of your thigh to your chest, not unlike a viper chasing for its food.

Ah yes, the situation at hand.

“To be fair,” you huff. “You love to hear yourself talk as well.”

“You seem to know a lot about me, little spider.” Her hand travels from your hip to the underside of your right thigh. “Altercations with my alter-self then?”

You chuckle, a breathy fucking embarrassing thing. “Oh, plenty.”

Your suit pools uncomfortably at the bottom of your stomach, the sleeves flapping underneath you. It must be so practical to have strong mechanical arms capable of holding your enemy one meter above the ground without even breaking a sweat. But you feel way too warm. Isn’t it hot right now? Isn’t she hot?

Oh, she definitely is, submit your traitorous mind.

“I’m sure we must have been tormenting you intensely.” She giggles, examining a large scar running from your pectoral to your lower belly. With a finger, she traces it like words on paper.

“That’s from you, actually.”

Your Octavius had looked so smug when it happened.

She looks up, smirking. “His actuators are way more pointy than yours,” you explain.

The double-entendre doesn’t go unnoticed, but she doesn’t comment. “Actuators, uh? I haven’t heard this denomination in a while, since my research paper on radioactivity in fact.”

“Yeah, I did my homework.”

You exhale shortly when the teasing actuator wrapped itself around your middle section allowing the others to tug at your suit. Octavius stopped her reverential petting to observe the spandex clinging to your skin, slowly displaying your legs and your underwear-clad pelvis like an exhibit. A free one at that, with free food and everything.

“So,” Octavius asks after discarding the suit to a corner of the room. “What’s the name of my counterpart?”

Both her hands come resting on your legs again. “Otto,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

“Funny,” she says, taking her sweet time feeling your backside muscles. She likes to grope, doesn’t she? “That’s the name of my father.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Ew, what a way to kill the mood, lady.”

Strangely, she doesn’t mention your slip, simply laughing while resting her palm on your– nether regions. The mood is far from being killed however judging by the humiliating wetness spreading through your underwear. She presses her palm down a little forcefully, and you moan loudly. Raising an eyebrow, it’s with a certain – perhaps misplaced – curiosity that she alternates between stroking up and down and toying with the tips of her fingers any potentially sensitive region. And you can’t contain the noise.

To be fair, you’ve never really been ashamed of anything.

There’s a daze settling in your mind, a fog behind your eyes as you only focus on the diffuse pleasure settling down there. You’re pulsating, every blood vessel tight, engorged as a blush spreads on your skin. You’re drifting, fuck– you’re so–

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

You don’t have time to reflect on the fact that you obeyed so eagerly because her touch's gone and it's the only thing you can focus on at the moment. She knows that too because her smugness is plastered all over her face – some things never change, and you want to cum all over her arrogant little smile.

“That’s–” you struggle to catch your breath. “So uncool.”

“The arrangement is you get out of here alive and I,” Octavius smirks. “get to do what I want with you.”

The shiver that travels through you speaks volumes. So the key to the ultimate fuck was ‘travel to a parallel universe’ all along? Talk about a joke.

“Now.” She straightens up, towering over you. “Tell me a little more about your Otto.”

The tentacles raise you higher in the air, pushing your hips at almost eye-level to Octavius.

“Self-centered much?” You joke, trying to ignore the actuator crawling along your leg.

“Curious,” she replies, enjoying the show. “You didn’t go around flexing those beautiful muscles in front of his face, did you?”

“What–” You try not to blush but fuck– it’s hard to concentrate when there’s the equivalent of an alien tentacle nuzzling you through your underwear. “Hey! I’m a very respectable – ah!, person ok?”

She laughs loudly at that. “It’s not a no, is it?”

“It’s part of the job!” You huff, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing ever happened with Otto. I care about my life, you know.”

“But not enough to avoid trying your ridiculous seduction tactics on me?”

You wonder if there’s a sliver of internalized misogyny reprimanded somewhere but, in your defense, the smooth head of the actuator now slowly creeping towards your opening is hard not to focus on.

“Worth a shot?” you pant.

You let out a surprised groan as the rough feeling of your underwear breaches your entrance, pushed inside by the blunt head of the mechanical arm. Not nearly enough to truly be inside but the movement is a warning at worst, a promise at best.

For fuck’s sake, listen to yourself.

As the actuator keeps pushing against your hole, you’re assaulted by the wet sound your garment does as it moves. It’s reminiscent of your evenings alone in your shitty apartment when you have enough time to tease the shit out of you. And as Octavius’ hand is back on your crotch, sensations and recollections drive you mad, spilling moans and gasps from your open mouth. Are you going to cum just like this? Groped through your pants and your hole teased like a fucking teenager? You’re too old for that.

Octavius hums to herself, observing you and cataloguing all your reactions as she would do for her research. Her undivided attention on you is exhilarating, and you watch her through half-lidded eyes wishing you could see the curious glint in those wide brown pupils.

What the fuck?

“You seem out of it, Spiderman.” She chuckles. “Drifting away?”

You gulp. “You could say that.”

It’s like she can see right through you. “Fuck– I’m–”

She suddenly disengages, leaving you once again panting, muscles tensed under smooth plastic. “Oops,” she giggles. “Butterfingers.”

You can only stare, heart skipping a beat. She couldn’t possibly have–

“Let me help you with that.”

In seconds, she discards you of any remaining pieces of clothing, holding you upright in all your naked glory. Still dizzy from everything, the touches, the words, you don’t say anything.

“Well then.” She tilts her head to the side. “Spider got your tongue?”

As latex-clad fingers dip inside your mouth before you can even muster a clever answer, you let out a moan, obsessed with the slick feeling of spit on her gloves. Lost in thought, a smooth arm soon takes its rightful place on your groin, pocking, rubbing and your sex glistens, sticky and sensitive to the air. Octavius keeps pressing her fingers down your tongue, sampling every single strand of your DNA when she pulls them away. Now that she’s so close, you can see her green eyes through her goggles. Wait, green?

“Have I finally broken you, little spider?”

Her laugh is supposed to be taunting but it just releases another spike of arousal through your whole body as if she somehow managed to alter your genes, confuse every nerve. Your entire self had changed with a single bite from a radioactive spider, who said you couldn’t go through the same process all over again?

“Not by a long shot,” you chuckle breathlessly.

“If I’d known it’d be this easy…” Her wet fingers graze against a hard nipple and you bite your tongue to not release another embarrassing noise. “Perhaps your Otto should take lessons.”

You let out a breathy moan, weak against the surge of all those sensory attacks and perhaps from the superposition of brown and green, tiptoeing the leyline linking her universe to yours. Unlike him, she seems to see right through you, deciphering the codex of your fantasies with a single look.

“You should describe him to me.”

“What?” you sutter. “What for–”

The twist sears through you, making your knees shake, pleasure distorting pain. The actuator against your throat tightens imperceptibly, just enough to make you remember its presence.

“Come on,” she whispers. “Are we alike?”

You scoff. “Not at all. He’s…”

A pain in the ass. Always in the way, always stealing money, always speaking about grand schemes and higher purposes. Completely mad, a total whacko, undeniably intelligent, brilliant–

“Tall.”

It makes her laugh. The touch of the actuators against your feverish skin is almost enough to cool it down. “And?”

“Uh, large?” you mutter. “He’s like a mountain or– something…”

One hand keeps playing with your nipples as the other traces random figures along your stomach which, you realize, aren’t random at all but just the complex network of your battle marks. When she runs a finger along the scar adorning your torso, you gasp softly and her gaze is all-knowing. Octavius drives you insane, and you’ll soon be complete putty in her hands, using your body as she pleases while you’re assaulted with visions of large hands and uncovered skin.

“He has uh…”

Get a fucking grip.

“Uh, he has short brown hair.”

You realize that her spit-covered fingers have travelled all the way down when she uncaringly presses a digit inside. Breath knocked out of your chest, you still hiss at the dry and unpleasant sensation but the lone actuator is quick to distract you again. When you think you had enough time to gather all your unholy thoughts and the remnants of your oxygen, her finger is joined by another, spreading you open.

“What else?” she asks, focused on her task.

You sigh, annoyed. “He has brown eyes–”

The actuator’s head suddenly splits open, revealing four small appendages and the opening of the tube that controls it. It stares at you, almost mocking, and you can’t take your eyes off it before it starts to dip down.

“Wait, wait, what do you think you’re doing–”

The echo of Octavius’ laugh is registered far at the back of your mind as the arm traps the entirety of your sex like the mouth of a carnivorous plant on a powerless bug. You feel it suck, making you throb, sputtering everywhere. The rippling of the plastic membrane makes it look alive as if it was waiting to swallow everything your body has to offer.

“Whe– where they even– fuck!, designed for th–ah!”

Octavius retreats her fingers, laughing again before getting rid of her right glove with her teeth. You try not to dwell on how filthy it is.

Fuck, it’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen.

The suction on your crotch increases and now you can only pant, gasp and droll everywhere. It's a sensation like no other, making you ignore everything else. Nails dip in your cheeks as Octavius grabs your chin to look at you, pride of your current state written all over her face.

“His eyes, you said?”

You want to kill her. “His– eyes?”

“Yes.” She giggles. “I don’t think you finished your sentence.”

You want to kiss her.

The actuator around your throat releases you, leaving you gasping for air. But your relief is brief as it soon slides against your loosened hole, slowly but surely pressing in.

‘They’re– they’re,” you stutter, arching towards her, brain devoid of any coherence. “Brown?”

She grips your face more forcefully and every sensation suddenly comes to a stop. “Have your brain already melted through your ears?”

You whine. “Ok, ok– they’re big, too gentle even–”

She smiles, a predatory thing. Aren’t spiders supposed to be predators? One good, strong suction on your crotch has you moaning so loudly you’re afraid all Achemax will come running in. “Beautiful– he’s–”

The actuator pushes inside smoothly, leaving you a shaking mess, split apart by the chaos of sensations running underneath your skin. No casual sexual encounter could have ever brought you to such a delightful, painfully aroused state. Your senses are attacked, assaulted from every direction as you’re watched, dissected under the gaze of an enemy. Octavius takes immense pleasure watching you completely surrender to her, and you can’t not picture the smug crooked smile of her counterpart in the wrinkles at the corner of her lips. There’s a lot that you could question about yourself if you hadn’t left your higher brain functions under the hands – and the tentacles, of a magnificent opponent.

“I think you have some self-reflection to do, little spider.”

You register the press of her lips late. Still holding your chin in a death grip, she kisses you like a snake strikes its prey. Eyes rolling back as she sinks her teeth into your lower lip, you arch strongly towards her, arms hurting for being held down for so long, legs spasming and chest heaving. Her tongue plunges into your mouth and she sucks at your lips not unlike how her actuators pump in and out of you, suck you dry, drive you insane…

Suddenly, she draws back, exhaling harshly against your reddened lips and you can feel her body moving forward. You only have the time to register that her hips are trusting against the actuator stuck to your crotch before she grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls harshly.

“Come on,” she pants in the crook of your neck. “Break down, sweetheart.”

You come like this, lightning travelling up your spine as you release on the mouth of the actuator, overstimulated by the trusts inside of you and the feeling of Octavius’ teeth on your skin. You spasm like an insect trapped in a web, a mouse constricted by the body of a python, arching, trusting your hips up over and over as the arm milks your orgasm out of you. Your throat is raw, your tongue is heavy and all your muscles scream from overuse but you just can’t stop coming, wetness spreading against your groin. When the actuators finally move away, you drip all over the floor, as your sex pulses, crimson red and spent.

Breathing air like it’s the first time, you try your best to calm your beating heart as you’re finally free from the arms’ grip, lowered on a nearby chair. Octavius lets out a sigh, tugging a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh well.” She smiles. “Good, very good.”

She throws your suit at your face. “You better run, little spider.”

“Uh?” You put it back, ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs.

“This is my gift to you,” she says, putting on a clean glove. “You have five minutes before I hunt you down and use your body for my experiments.��

You laugh awkwardly, voice rough as you limp through the room. “I’ll be gone then. See ya, Doc!”

The giggle she lets out is hunting. As you swing away to central New York, the traces of her abuse all over your body, you think about your Octavius.

Perhaps you’ll try a new technique next time you meet.

#olivia octavius x reader #dr octavius x reader #otto octavius x reader #olivia octavius #into the spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderman imagine

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 1 year

Note

Logically I always feel like we're supposed to hate Rudy more but goddamn, Mary has always made my skin crawl. I mean there were a LOT of reasons why I could never get into the YJ cartoon but I specifically remember seeing the way it portrays Wally's parents and something about it just felt icky and wrong

Rudy on some level is just so cartoony of a villain.

Like, the fanon version of Rudy is this bumbling angry alcoholic who hits his son because he needs someone smaller than him to take out his aggression on and that version of Rudy is very real. I think that's why fanon tends to view him that way. Because it's a more realistic characterization and it's easier for them to understand and portray.

But the truth of the matter is that Rudy is cold, calm and calculating. He's smart. And he doesn't care. Not about Wally and definitely not about Mary. Rudy doesn't see them as a family, he sees them as a long con. A get rich scheme in the making. Wally is supposed to be powerful so Rudy tries to 'shape' him. The abuse isn't out of anger, it's Rudy's misguided attempts to make him stronger.

Rudy also tries to bond with Wally. He knows he needs a good relationship with Wally to keep Wally in line when he gets older. That's why you see things like Rudy poisoning the little league coach to let Wally play and letting the air out of the other team's tires so Wally's team wins.

He was really fucking bad at it but he was attempting to make Wally an ultimate weapon that only listened to him. What he did instead was push his son away and teach him what not to do.

But that kind of calculated, off-the-wall mentality is so foreign. It's bad and we can recognize it but it's like something out of Criminal Minds. It's hard to see any part of that in our daily lives.

But Mary? Mary is something else. Mary is little comments about Wally's outfits. Mary is guilt tripping her son into spending time with her. Mary is being confidently incorrect about her son's wants and needs. Mary is discouraging comments when you just need a hug. Mary is so real it hurts.

So yeah, I can absolutely agree with you. Rudy is on another fucking level and he objectively does worse things (like murder and child labor camps and cult stuff). But Mary is so real in her abuse. She genuinely horrifies me.

Also, yeah I can agree about the YJ thing. Rudy and Mary being terrible has been a central part of Wally's story since the beginning. (and before people say "but Walls, the Wests were so kind in their first appearance!" they were literally only in a few panels and Rudy didn't even have a name yet. Also it was a Titans comic and not the Flash comic, ofc the characterization would be off) It's definitely a disservice to the character to write the West's as good/normal parents in any capacity. Especially because the excuse was that all the other members of the team had bad home lives/childhoods so they wanted Wally to be 'normal'. Bruh. Hate to break it to you but the kids in suburbia with the white picket fences can also suffer abuse behind closed doors. It's unfortunately a very common and 'normal' thing.

#yeah im not a fan of how YJ handled that at all #especially given how fucking insane Rudy is in the comics #thats like writing Lex Luthor as just an average business guy who has normal emotions about Superman #its like ??? what???#dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #wally west #rudy west #mary west

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docholligay · 4 months

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What was your favorite thing you did in the UK/Germany?

That's such a hard thing for me to say on these sorts of trips, because there are so many things that go into "favorite." Apologies that this won’t be very poetically written, I’m sitll musing on my thoughts about it.

The event I loved the most: Dickens Christmas Feast

We all know I love Charles Dickens, and even more so, we all know I love A Christmas Carol. I have seen so many versions of it, I will continue to watch versions of it, it is the best thing about Christmas, I think. So, on the one hand, very low bar to entry foe me.

On the other hand, I cannot recommend it enough to people. I would see anything this theater company did. They did such a wonderful job of building tone as you walked to where the theater was, you get this sense that you’ve about to hear something no one has ever heard before, even though this is probably one of the best known stories in the Western world. They even had a map of London from the late 1800s. I genuinely told people to just go past us in line (We had Royal Circle tickets--everything else had been sold out--so it didn’t matter if we were first or last) because they had a magnifying glass to look at the city map. It was so interesting to me to see the ways its different, but also the way its the same. What parts of the city cropped up, where were the nice areas, all of that.

I loved dressing up. I love dressing up anyhow, but it was so much fun to do it for a Victorian themed event, and people reacted so positively to the handful of us who dressed up. There was one gal who stood by us in line, turned to her mom, and said, “I told you people would dress up! We could have dressed up! I love your costumes.” and then when we thanked her and said we loved to take an opportunity, she said, “Did you bring all that from America?” and upon confirmation, she turned to her mom again and said, “They brought it from America!” I loved her, I hope next time she dresses up.

The food was shockingly good. I don’t put a lot of faith in dinner theater, foodwise, but the duck was well cooked, I love the potted cheese, and the cocktails were flat out incredible. I had smoking bishop, which I liked so much I think I’m going to try and make it at home this winter. Also, in the Royal Circle the service was incredible. Our gal Lily was so very attentive and wonderful, and she let us know that she couldn’t come out during the three acts, but in the meal breaks, she would. I let her know I was going to want to put a cocktail order in about ten minutes before each act began, and she was SO on it, like CLOCKWORK, asking me what I’d like for the next act and having hit the table RIGHT before the lights dimmed again. She was amazing.

And the play. Again, I love A Christmas Carol and I acknowledge that fully, but I never imagined that one of my favorite reworkings of it would be a one man show that is represented as Charles Dickens acting it all out of you in his deeply involved, hyperactive, scattered way. I ADORED IT. I cannot express to you how well the guy did, and how much, in moments, it really felt to me like the feeling of being a writer--especially in the earlier parts of the play--with him saying a line “wrong” and then going, “No, I don’t like that” taking up the exact same position, and redoing it. It was very much the feeling of me pacing around the office in the old days writing something. At the end of the second act, when they had this huge clap of thunder roll, lights flashing, the actor as Scrooge in this moment crying out in fear over the approach of the third ghost, and then the whole room goes pitch black and silent. It’s SO tense. The lights come up, he smiles and goes, “Pretty good, right?” ANd it just captured, for me, that feeling of knowing you’ver written something that’s going to get to your reader, and it is this MOMENT in the writing, but you’re sitting there grinning like an idiot over your desk, chuckling.

The only other players in the work, actually, were the musicians, who were live, and walked around playing the violin and little drums and other instruments, it was such an excellent way to really loop in the music aspect and give this so much more of a live feel.

The whole thing is done as a theater in the round style, and there really isn’t a bad seat in the house. I was in the royal circle, but mostly what we had was more attentive service and much more comfortable seating (They were these sumptuous plush banquettes. So nice. Everyone else was on a regular chair) because the seating was so good for the play itself. And because of how it was done, it had to have sparse staging, but what they did have was wonderful. In the center stage, especially, they had a doorframe that popped up, and when they lowered it, they couldn’t do it without a light slam, so they worked it into the play SO WELL, at one point one of the musicians was holding it for the perfect dramatic moment to hear that slam, and it was such a clever way to work in something that could have been annoying into being absolutely perfect.

It was so cleverly done, I would go see it again despite the cost of it, absolutely, if I were in London at the time.

Thing I think everyone should go see in London: Westminster Abbey.

A lot of the things I recommend are ‘use cases’ because there’s very little int his world that is uniformly bad or uniformly good, there are just good and bad use cases. I think the London Eye would be a fucking horrfying waste of time and money, but if I were bringing beeb, she might love it, as she loves to be up high. When i went with my wife one of my favorite days was when i took the train out to the shitty OW office and walked back to Mile End at the route I think Lena would take, and basically just bopped around the East End. Many people would find that boring or too much walking. I thought the British Museum was an annoying waste of my life. Many of you are audibly gasping at that statement. Use cases.

ANYHOW, Westminster Abbey is one of the only things I can think of in London that everyone she go see. I am not a big historic church person, so please trust me when I say its a very beautiful church, but it’s much more than that. I’m not sure if I just wrote this in my diary or said it here, but it feels like the collective hopes of a nation, and what it makes itself to be. What do we hold dear? What do we call ours? This is even more striking with seeing the scientists, and poets’ corner, the RAF chapel. It’s about what the UK thinks of itself as, what it hopes it is, as much as it is anything else, and I think you get a fantastic sense of that HOPE going through there. There’s a reason Oliver Crowmwell was there, and then wasn’t. Its striking for me in a way churches rarely are. I love that aspect of it, my wife loved the straight history aspects of it, the craftsmanship of the building itself and the graves are absolutely worth study, if you’re a royals person, that’s where the coronation is, if you just want to hit the tourist highlights, it is a major one. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Thing I didn’t expect to love: The Christmas Garden Path at Blenheim Palace.

I cannot express to you what a tonally bizarre journey the Blenheim path was. It was as if they asked several different people to come together and make this, but refused to allow them to speak to each other, so you jump from moment to moment and it has absolutely no unity whatsoever. You begin in a very boring “Nice lights set to Pentatonix” Christmas display that in no way prespares you for what is about to happen. At one point, in what I called, “The Annual Tory Salute to the Blitz” it is literally the glowering face of Winston Churchill, illuminated, against a backdrop of flames. If you do not believe me ask @morkaischosen who was there with me. Then we went into the “Christmas Rave” where there was, I am not joking, pulsing lights as you walk in a circle around them to techno music. Is this related to Christmas? Who knows? WHo cares! There are dancing fountains! There’s a love tunnel! One of the areas I just called “A Eurovision entry from Eastern Europe” and I was completely right. It was bonkers. It was jarring. I loved it. 10/10. Also, whoever planned it out had amazing wisdom with the drink stops, I am so serious. I never had to chug nor wait, they were spaced PERFECTLY for finishing one drink and wanting another.

But one of my actual favorite times, that I will look on with extreme fondness, is something that I think most people would have found boring to hear about: Sitting on the living room floor with @verbforverb while @tallangrycockatiel sat there and knitted, sampling whiskeys. It was not anything you’d find in a travel guide but in many ways was what I came there to do and will be one of my favorite memories (also verb trying to fucking murder me during a monring run)

#doc does christmas

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multishipper33 · 4 months

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could i interest you in random shit, all of the time?

[this is a disclaimer/side note. Disclaimer: I am currently high on George Micheal & Desert Duo. Side Note: I will be posting the sillier, unrelated version of this to my Wattpad so if you know me on there you get the fun fact! Anywhat this popped into my brain a little bit ago. Fuuuun. Enjoy my peeps & pops!]

y’all.

Careless Whisper.

Yes, that song.

Desert Duo.

picture it right here, right now

go on, you’ve got time

close your eyes

not really, keep on reading

the intro is flashing through all of the Life Series

and then we cut to 3rd Life Grian

blah blah blah he gets emotional

and then the chorus is Grian dancing with Scar in all of the life series, and you know where it ends.

at the end of the chorus, sl!Grian disintegrates into a ghost & his ghost continues dancing with Scar before pulling away, leaving him alone

we have a few key lines here, plus blah blah blah scitties!

“The careless whisper of a friend.” Oof, that hits you right in the gut. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear? Friend? Anyone? Hm?

“Was what I did so bad that you had to leave me alone?” Man, that one goes hard. Scar is all alone in Secret Life, after all.

now, we need something for our other Scarian season: Double Life!

they’re now tangled up in the soul strings, lives going down until they both die.

now, the screen divides into three parts. 3rd Life, Double Life, Secret Life. 3rd Life shows Grian while he’s still alive dancing with Scar’s ghost. Double Life shows their ghosts dancing together, the soulbond slowly tangling them together. Secret Life shows alive Scar dancing with Grian’s ghost.

then 3L & SL close in on DL, making it a two-way split.

the ghosts face away from the border, slowly disappearing as alive Scar & Grian from the various seasons back up against the border and sing the song. Careless Whisper.

“Never without your love.” Ooh, this is curious. They turn to walk away from the wall before this line, pivoting and doing the hand on the wall in the same place thingy as they sing that.

then, 3L Grian moves over to the infamous cliff. He whispers, hence the song’s name: “I know you’re not a fool.”

SL Scar watches this and chases after him but can’t reach in time, him banging against the wall as the border closes and makes him fall.

“Now I’m never gonna dance again, the way I danced with you.” Scar looks to the sky, patterns in the stars looking suspiciously like end credits.

So there’s my animatic idea! I can’t animate and I normally don’t share these things with anyone but I thought with all of the “Scar won aaaaa what will he be earth or eclipse” jazz it would fit right in.

uh thanks for reading this far

peacefully succumb to the void of unconsciousness, my peeps & pops!

#maddie’s rambles #life series #trafficblr #secret life #desert duo #3rd life #3rd life smp #goodtimeswithscar #grian #gtws #gtwscar #grianmc #Oh btw #about the peeps & pops signoff #Peeps are people following me #And pops are people in the vast expanse of trafficblr

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chenziee · 5 months

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The Stubborn

This story was written for the amazing @zosanauzine!! You can find it as a part of the main zine :D

It's also a part of the Obstacles soulmate AU verse 👀

This is actually a little bit of an extend version because I needed to cut a scene out for the zine because of word count 😭 there's also a few minor changes because I wrote this way before The Markless so I had to do some edits to make the timeline fit together but shhh

The zine's aftersales are open right now, so don't miss out!! 👀

[ Read on AO3 | Obstacles series | Ko-Fi ]

—————

They say that everyone has a soulmate out there somewhere. There will always be a person matching the mark decorating your skin, you simply have to find them.

Sounds easy enough.

But nothing is ever as easy as it seems when the world is separated into five seas, when it’s nearly impossible to travel through freely unless you have government permission to cross the Red Line and a Navy warship to get you through the Calm Belt. Only the strongest—or absurdly lucky—go wherever they want and survive.

And, even if you overcome all those odds and are able to travel across all the seas to find that person, there can be other obstacles to stand in the way.

Blank skin is one.

Stubbornness another.

—————

“You seriously don’t have a mark?” Usopp asked doubtfully.

Sanji sighed before he lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. Only after a ring of smoke left his mouth did he bother to look at Usopp to reply, “Seriously. And good thing too, it gives me the freedom to love all the ladies.”

“Uh-huh,” Usopp hummed, raising an eyebrow. A person without a soulmate—or at least without a soul mark—wasn’t completely unheard of but they were usually people like Luffy, people without a single ounce of interest in romance or dating. Not… Sanji.

Torao may have put a tiny dent in that theory but the point still stood.

Usopp knew there had to be a catch. Either Sanji was lying, or his mark was so subtle that he mistook it for a regular birthmark. There was simply no way that—

“Ah, crap,” Sanji cursed when he dropped a spatula.

And then, Usopp could only watch as Sanji bent down, the hem of his shirt riding up on his back and exposing a little bit of skin.

It felt like Usopp’s jaw hit the floor when his mind processed just what he was looking at. There was a mark. The mark. The exact soul mark that Sanji claimed he didn’t have. And its shape was—

Usopp had to rub at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things but no. It really was three crossed swords, the one in the middle suspiciously resembling Wado Ichimonji.

Immediately, Usopp’s mind flashed to all the times their local Three Sword Style expert pointedly ignored any and all questions about his soulmate. He remembered all the fights that used to abuse the Going Merry and that still continued to abuse the Thousand Sunny to this day. He could practically see the face Zoro made everytime Sanji would go off to hit on yet another random, beautiful woman.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

Gulping heavily, Usopp bit hard on his bottom lip to keep his voice level as he addressed Sanji, who was now scrubbing his dropped spatula in the sink. “Hey, Sanji,” he started slowly. “There’s something on your back.”

Sanji paused at his words, turning his head to look at Usopp, then craning his neck to see his backside. He struggled for a few seconds, even reaching with his hand to blindly try and brush the non-existent dirt off of himself, completely misunderstanding what Usopp had meant.

“I can’t see, can you get it for me?” Sanji asked, frustration clear in his voice.

And Usopp… had to struggle very, very hard to not start laughing as he complied, making a show of ‘cleaning’ Sanji’s shirt.

This was seriously getting better and better. Not only had he learned some wonderful, sweet information that Nami would pay good money for—maybe even forgive the interest on the money he had borrowed from her if he played his cards right—but Sanji also didn’t know about any of this because he couldn’t see his back.

The peaceful days on the Sunny were about to get a lot more interesting.

—————

Zoro didn’t understand. It was as if overnight, the rest of the crew had collectively decided to become a complete pain in his ass. He could simply be training and minding his own damn business, and suddenly, Nami would start loudly complimenting the cook’s new pants, saying how well they fit him. The stupid love-cook wasn’t able to form a single sentence the rest of the day; the only things that came out of his mouth were incoherent mumbles and sighs of ‘Nami-swan’, which only annoyed Zoro more. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cut Sanji or Nami for that.

Or he could be sitting in the kitchen, trying to eat his late breakfast in peace when Robin would walk in. She’d look at Zoro, then Twirly standing at the stove and smile, only to note how ‘sweet’ the atmosphere was.

Zoro had nearly choked on his rice.

One time, he was even asleep when Franky had decided to loudly drop one of his creations right next to him. Zoro had startled awake, thinking they were under attack but then Franky’s laughter filled his ears.

“Hey, Zoro! You look super tired!” he said. “You should get some sleep, man.”

“Shut up,” Zoro replied with a yawn. This guy, seriously; what did he think Zoro was trying to be doing?

Franky grinned with a suspicious spark in his eyes, like he was dying to make fun of Zoro further but desperately trying to hold back. “You should ask Sanji to help you sleep.”

Zoro’s eyebrows shot up. What the fuck was this cyborg even saying? “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked finally, after what felt like an eternity of them just staring at each other, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts.

“Who knows?” Franky shrugged, his teasing grin only widening. “But Sanji’s our super cook and he spent two years learning new recipes. I’m sure he can whip up something nice especially for you.”

Zoro blinked, giving Franky one last blank look before deciding to ignore this entire exchange and go back to sleep. There was no point pursuing this further; he was sure he wouldn’t get anything else out of the shipwright that would make any sense.

But there were many more instances like this; Usopp noting how ‘amazing’ Eyebrows was at random times. Brook telling him to cherish his soulmate after reminiscing about the time he had spent with his own. Jinbe earnestly wishing him good luck for no reason. Nami threatening to charge him if she was ever ‘subjected to hearing things’, whatever that meant.

There was something off about the whole thing. It was as if…

No, it couldn't be. There was no way the idiots had somehow learned about Zoro’s soulmate… situation. After all, he’d made both Luffy and Chopper swear to not blab out anything stupid and he always made sure to wear his haramaki to keep his mark perfectly hidden. After all, there was no need for anyone to know, no need for anyone to see the stupid spiral on his hip—least of all, the shitty cook it belonged to.

Closing his eyes, Zoro cursed internally; the universe really had a sick sense of humour. Of all people, of literally all the people in the world, his soulmate just had to be someone infuriating. The only saving grace was that the idiot was too stupid to realise.

Seriously, it was ridiculous. Who even missed something like a soulmark? How did that happen? He might have expected something like that from Luffy but not the cook; he might have been absolutely maddening but he wasn’t dumb. He had saved the crew several times by using his brain before but apparently, finding something on your own skin was a more challenging task than outsmarting the navy headquarters at Enies Lobby.

Zoro startled at the chuckle that easily passed his lips at the thought. Stupid Mr Nosebleed making him feel all these things. It would have been so much easier if he was just an annoyance or just an endearing idiot but no, he had to be both. Making Zoro want to kill him and kiss him and then kill him again all in the span of five seconds just by breathing and it was driving Zoro absolutely insane.

“You’d think I’d get used to all this by now,” Zoro growled, ruffling his hair in frustration.

“Is this about Sanji?” A soft chuckle accompanied the words just before someone sat on the barrel next to him.

Zoro sighed. “Why do I get a feeling no matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me?”

“Because you’re not a very good liar,” Robin laughed, crossing her legs and leaning back against the railing behind her.

“Shut up,” Zoro could only grumble before looking away. At least he could confidently say he was still better at it than Luffy. It was just that nothing seemed to get past this woman.

“You two are so cute. You do know you could just talk to each other, right?” Robin was quite obviously holding back laughter as she asked, even having to raise her hand to hide her mouth when Zoro shot her a glare.

“As if I could just bring that up!” he snapped. “What would I even say? Shitty cook doesn’t even know.”

Robin smiled at him gently. “Doesn’t he?”

Zoro froze at her words, but before he could so much as ask what that was supposed to mean, Robin continued, “The connection doesn’t appear for no reason. It doesn’t have to be that difficult, you know.”

Zoro didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like she was wrong but it didn’t seem right either. They hated each other. They couldn’t say good morning without it turning into a fight. And yet, this woman was basically saying it was all in his head.

“Easy for you to say…”

Letting go of a deep sigh, Zoro let his head fall back. He couldn’t help but note what a beautiful day it was. Almost too beautiful. They must have been close to a spring island.

If only everything was as simple as the cloudless blue skies.

—————

“I’m off! I’ll make sure to pick out only the best ingredients for you, ladies.” Sanji bowed before he turned around to leave.

The Sunny had docked at a spring island earlier that morning and after some preparations—namely Luffy insisting on getting his pirate lunch-box before going anywhere—the crew was ready to go check out the port town. It didn’t really matter to Nami what any of them did there, as long as Luffy didn’t manage to set the town on fire before lunch but…

As funny as the whole thing was at first, she was also getting a little tired of it.

“Sanji!” Nami called after their retreating cook. “Take Zoro with you!”

Both Zoro and Sanji froze, whipping around to stare at her with open mouths.

“Why would I want to bring the idiot mosshead?!”

“Why would I want to go with the idiot love-cook?!”

Nami sighed deeply before pointing at Zoro. “Because I don’t want you to get lost and—” she paused to point at Sanji— “because I don’t want you to get distracted.”

It was a lie, a transparent one. It wasn’t like this was the first island, the first city where they would each go their separate ways with no idea what the rest were doing. As much as she was right about Zoro’s sense of direction and Sanji’s tendency to chase after women, she had never gone out of her way to force them to stay together for no apparent reason. But if she didn’t step in, they would never get anywhere and she was done watching these two dance around each other like a couple of idiots.

“Oi, Nami,” Zoro hissed but a single stern look from her was enough to end the argument before it even began.

They were going to go together and talk and there was nothing either man could do about it.

—————

Automatically grabbing the bag that was handed to him, Zoro wondered why he had even agreed to this. He wanted to say it was because of the kindness of his heart, because he took pity on the cook, because he had nothing better to do. He didn’t want to admit it was because he was scared of Nami or worse, that he wanted to spend time with Curly. Absolutely not.

But there was a damn limit, alright?

“Hey, Cook,” Zoro growled when he was handed yet another bag. “Just how much stuff do you want me to carry for you?”

Brow raised, Sanji put down the apple he was examining to look at Zoro instead. “What else are you here for? Don’t tell me this is too much for a muscle-head like you.”

“That’s not the point! You carry something, too!” Zoro snapped back because really, it wasn’t like it was heavy but why was he carrying all of the thirty shopping bags?

“Why should I? Plus, I need both hands to choose the highest quality food for Nami and Robin.”

Sanji’s snarky tone softened as soon as he thought of the girls and Zoro hated how much that change irritated him. Why did he have to get stuck with this womaniser for a soulmate? “It’s always about the women,” Zoro muttered bitterly.

“What?” There was a mix of annoyance and honest confusion in Prince’s voice and somehow, that only made Zoro angrier.

“You heard me,” he said curtly, looking straight at Cook in a direct challenge.

There was a moment of silence while Sanji stared back, then wordlessly lit a cigarette. Closing his eyes momentarily, he took a moment to blow out the smoke before he glared at Zoro. “Are you picking a fight? Who do you think all the rice is for, huh?!”

“For me, so the razorblades have flavour!” Zoro shot back, already reaching for Enma despite all the bags in his hands.

“You asked for those!” Sanji’s foot was on fire now, slowly rising up to return Zoro’s attack… but then it froze in mid-air, the flames dying as Browgoro blinked, his mouth falling open, cigarette dropping. “Wait, you actually ate that?”

Suddenly, it felt like the flames from Sanji’s attack jumped over to Zoro’s face; he wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed—he had been very proud back on Punk Hazard for managing to digest those, just like he had claimed he could…

So, why did he feel like disappearing off the face of the earth now?

He couldn’t even look at Dart-brow when he replied, his voice a quiet mumble, “We can’t waste food, right?”

Grave silence settled over the two of them at his words; it was like everyone at the market had disappeared, leaving only Sanji, Zoro, and his increasing sense of mortification.

It felt like several long, agonising hours later that Sanji finally let out a long-suffering groan and buried his face in his hands. “Why did I have to get stuck with this Marimo for a soulmate…”

Immediately, Zoro’s good eye widened.

“You knew?!” he asked in horror. Curly had always claimed he didn’t have a soul mark, that he was ‘free to love all the ladies’, so what the hell was he saying right now?!

Sanji visibly froze; he obviously didn’t think before speaking, was probably just as shocked as Zoro to hear his own voice forming the words.

They stared at each other for a moment, both too stunned to even blink. It took a laughing child crashing right into Zoro to get time to move again… only it felt like it sped up a little too much. Zoro’s head was spinning. He barely knew what was going on anymore, only that he needed to do something. Anything. But… He was never one to think too deeply about things.

That was what Sanji was there for and look where that got them.

Clenching his jaw, Zoro decided.

Fuck it.

He took the two steps that separated them, grabbing Sanji’s arm without a word to drag him away. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t know what he was going to do…

But if, at the end of it, he finally learns what Sanji’s lips taste like, that was perfectly fine by him.

—————

“How did it go?” Usopp asked casually when the two of them got back.

“We got everything for your special tangerine sauce, Nami!” Sanji called, completely ignoring Usopp in favour of waving to the navigator. No surprise there.

Zoro clicked his tongue at the cook’s antics, simply walking by while carrying all of the many shopping bags. “Sanji, I’m gonna drop these in the kitchen. Put the shit away yourself.”

“As if I’d let you mess around my kitchen anyway!” Sanji snapped back immediately.

Yep, nothing’s changed. Usopp wasn’t surprised Nami’s plan didn’t work; if forcing them to be alone was enough, then they wouldn’t be—

Wait.

“Did you just call him ‘Sanji’?!”

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wild-karrde · 8 months

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Guarded - Part 1

Master List | Next Chapter

A/N: HI HELLO HOWDY! Alright, so a while back, I decided I would rework "Guarded" and "Reunion" a bit, so THIS IS THE START OF THAT EFFORT. This rework will not be as extensive as what's happening with "In Command", but this fic will be getting upgraded to an Explicit rating (with the M option still available on AO3). So if you're new to this fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT, and if you've already read it and decide to revisit it, I HOPE YOU LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I ALWAYS HAVE. And for this go around, I WILL HAVE MY OUTSTANDING BETA READER HELPING FOR THE WHOLE TIME (TJ came on halfway through this fic last time), so THANK YOU as always to @teletraan-meets-jarvis for her stupendous support and beta-reading!

Chapter Rating: T (entire work is rated E, but M-rated version can be found on AO3)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character death

Word Count: 3.4k words

She could feel it, something in the darkness, just out of reach, creeping towards her.

Not another dream.

The presence shifted, and with it, her certainty that she was in fact imagining it.

DANGER.

The word flashed in her mind like a siren. She rocketed to a sitting position, her hair sticking to her face and neck with sweat that was pouring from her brow. A dark figure loomed in the corner of her room, body half in her window. Their eyes met and his widened at the understanding that his quarry had detected him.

Oh, Maker.

Diving out of her bed, she rolled behind one of the ornately carved nightstands as a blaster bolt ricocheted off the light that stood on it. She coughed from the smoke as she yanked open the drawer on the front of it, pulling her blaster from its hiding place. Her assailant advanced, firing at her as she ducked further behind the nightstand. She heard him chuckle darkly as he stepped up onto her bed to get a higher vantage point.

She was exposed.

Without thinking, she launched herself from her crouched position, tackling the intruder. Her shoulder slammed into his ribcage, and she heard him grunt as her momentum carried them both to the ground, his helmeted head smacking hard against the floor.

He’s dazed at best. Got to keep moving.

She somehow still had her blaster in her hand and tucked it against the attacker’s exposed throat.

“Make a move and I will kill you without hesitation,” she panted.

She heard the same low chuckle again.

Suddenly, his wrist wrapped around hers as he tried to roll on top of her, but he had underestimated her strength. She squeezed the trigger once, twice, and the bolts hit him in the clavicle and throat. He gasped and wheezed, rolling off of her. She stood, her hair hanging in her face as she leveled the blaster at him again, ignoring the metallic smell of blood and charred flesh.

“Who sent you?” she demanded.

“It doesn’t matter…more…will…come…” he wheezed before falling silent.

She knelt down next to him, feeling for a pulse that no longer beat, and she cursed silently as there was a sudden banging on her door. She stood, tucking her hair behind her ear as her security protocols were overridden and her door burst open, the room immediately filling with guards. The captain stood next to her, gently taking her arm to turn her towards him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, attempting to hide the fear in his voice.

“No, I’m fine. Can’t say the same for our friend here.”

The captain’s brow furrowed. He snapped out a few orders to the guards, and they all rushed to comply.

“They’re growing bolder. This is no longer safe, and you know it,” he whispered quietly.

“Gregar, we can’t let them win.”

“If you die, they win, and they came close tonight.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.”

“Oh, I think I give you plenty. But I’m making the call.”

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Three chimes echoed throughout the darkened ship. Only one of the clones was awake, and he didn’t move in his bunk, hoping one of his brothers would get it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The comm panel was insistent.

Peering over the edge of the bunk, Hunter could see Tech was asleep at the comm station, his feet propped up on the console and his neck tipped back over the chair at a perilous angle.

How does he even sleep like that? No wonder his posture is terrible.

He could see the flashing indicator trying to tell them they had a new message, but Tech’s snores continued uninterrupted.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Hunter sighed in frustration.

He’s clearly not getting up.

He looked around in the bunk for something to throw at his sleeping brother but was unsuccessful. Groaning one more time as he stretched his shoulders above his head, he rolled out of the bunk taking care not to step on Wrecker in the bunk below him and made his way over to answer the message. He could see Echo asleep in the copilot seat in the cockpit and Crosshair was stretched out on the floor in the back of the ship. Hunter wasn’t sure how long it would take him to re-integrate with the team, but it seemed like the sniper was determined to keep his distance for the foreseeable future, even when he was sleeping. He sighed before moving over to the comm console.

Hunter shoved Tech’s feet off the console, jolting him awake.

“Hmmm…what is it?” Tech asked, readjusting his goggles, which were askew across his face. It never failed to amaze Hunter how alert his brother could be after being woken from a dead sleep. It almost unnerved him at times.

“We’ve got a message.”

Hunter punched a few keys and a hologram illuminated in front of them in the form of Senator Bail Organa.

“Greetings, Clone Force 99. I hope this message finds you safe. I have received a request for protection from one of our closest allies. I have been asked not to disclose the name over this channel for security purposes, but I am transmitting coordinates for your rendezvous with their representative. While this may seem unusual, the situation is…complex, and requires special attention, which is why I’m asking you specifically to take this. The contact has stressed that it is imperative that your presence there remains a secret, so please take the necessary precautions. Send a confirmation once you get this message and are on your way.”

The hologram dimmed and Hunter leaned against the wall, rubbing his hands over his face as he attempted to ingest all of the information.

“Well that was…ominous and vague,” Tech muttered.

“Whereabouts do the coordinates put us?” Hunter asked.

Tech punched a few buttons on the console, and a blue and green planet popped up on the display. “Naboo. Looks like we’ll be putting down well away from any major cities. Theed will be the closest one.”

“What do we know about what’s going on there?”

“So far, minimal Imperial presence. Currently ruled by Queen Kestia Nodala, who seems very anti-occupation and has thus far been successful in keeping large forces away. There’s been some rumored tension between her and the Empire recently, but nothing confirmed.”

“Over what?”

“Resources, allegedly.”

Hunter grunted as he ran the information over in his mind.

“Alright, well, let’s get heading that way. Set a course for Naboo and send Organa a confirmation and an ETA that he can provide his contact with. Also, let Omega know we’ll be unreachable for a while so she doesn’t worry if she tries to contact us.”

Tech nodded wordlessly, standing up and stretching his limbs and cracking his neck before heading to the cockpit to lay in the coordinates.

---

The green of Naboo’s forests glowed like a cut and polished emerald below them as Tech brought the Marauder in to land in a small clearing. They’d been met with no suspicion, and that was enough for Hunter’s nerves to be strained.

Nothing is ever this easy.

Quickly, the five clones exited the ship, armored and armed.

“Heads on a swivel for the contact,” Hunter’s voice buzzed from underneath his helmet.

“Do we even know who we’re looking for?” Echo grumbled, scanning the treeline.

“Me,” a voice said from behind them. A tall, dark complected man sporting an eye patch stepped from the shadows, hands raised to show he wasn’t a threat. “I’m your contact.”

The clones whirled on him, raising their blasters.

“And who are you?” Tech asked.

“Gregar Typho.”

Tech’s head cocked in recognition at the name.

Wrecker noticed. “You know him, Tech?”

“I know of him. He was the personal guard for Senator Padmé Amidala prior to her death, and he now currently works as head of the Royal Naboo Security Forces.”

Hunter stared at Typho. “The Royal Naboo Security Forces?”

The captain’s expression didn’t alter beyond a slightly raised eyebrow. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll explain on the way, but we need to get moving. We’re too conspicuous out here.”

“What about the ship?” Wrecker grunted.

“It’ll be fine. Step this way please.”

They walked to the edge of the clearing and Typho punched a few buttons on his vambrace. The ground underneath them rumbled as the Havoc Marauder slowly sunk beneath the grass, being lowered into large hexagonal opening below them. They peered down into what appeared to be a large hidden hangar below the surface. As soon as the ship was completely submerged underground, two grass-coated plates snapped shut seamlessly, and the clearing was again empty and seemingly undisturbed.

“The very precise coordinates make more sense now,” Tech stated.

“Impressive,” Hunter muttered.

“You’ll get it back,” Typho reassured him with a hint of a smirk. “Now come, my speeder is this way.”

The five clones and the captain piled into the speeder that Typho had hidden beneath the trees, and without another word, they were zooming along under the treeline, mostly obscured from view. Hunter noticed that once again, Crosshair had been largely silent since exiting the ship. In fact, he wasn’t sure if his brother had said anything since learning of their mission. When he’d given them the briefing, Crosshair had been leaning back against the hull of the ship, quietly working on yet another of his toothpicks. All he’d given was a nod of acknowledgement before starting to gear up. Now, he was sitting in the back of the speeder, his rifle tucked next to him while he stared out into the trees.

Just give him time. He needs time.

Hunter turned back to their newfound companion in the seat next to him.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Captain, can we possibly get an idea of what we’re doing here?”

Typho gave him a look out of the corner of his eye before sighing.

“You are persistent.”

“I prefer to know what I’m getting my team into. We trust our mutual friend that set this up, but faith will only get you so far.”

The captain nodded. “You’ll get more details once we reach our destination, but for now, the person I represent –“

“The queen?” Echo asked.

“The person I represent” Typho insisted, giving him a glare, “is in grave danger, and I have been assured that your skillsets are best-suited to protect them.”

“Better suited than your own?” Hunter pressed.

“There are… limitations to what my guards and I can do. Naboo is not a planet of warriors, and we believe in peace at all costs, even if those costs are sometimes great. A military force is not something we possess or something we welcome.”

“And yet you hired us,” Tech said.

“Yes, I did. Please understand the desperation of the situation for me to do so, and the risk that comes with it.” He glanced at their armor. “We’ll have to get you changed once we arrive. You’ll stand out too much with your clone armor.”

Wrecker groaned from the back of the speeder. “Ugh. Nothing ever fits me.”

Typho gave him a once over. “I’m sure we’ll find… something.”

They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip, the wind whistling by their helmets as Typho piloted the speeder through the forest. They could see the city of Theed rushing into view on the cliffs above, but the captain never turned the speeder towards the main entrances, instead steering for the bottom of the bluffs. Echo shot Tech a look, and he shrugged as they pulled into a large cavern. A few hundred meters into the cave, there was suddenly dim lighting along the floors and walls, and Typho expertly piloted through the tunnels.

“Where are we?” Wrecker shouted above the roaring winds.

“These tunnels run alongside the catacombs under the city. Best way to get in and out without being seen,” the captain replied.

Wrecker shuddered at his reply. “I don’t like dead bodies.”

Echo looked at him, tilting his head. “You see dead bodies all the time.”

“It’s different when I’ve killed ‘em.”

Echo started to ask another question but appeared to accept Wrecker’s logic as Tech shook his head, still typing away on his datapad. Crosshair didn’t budge, continuing to stare into the tunnel ahead of them, the dim lighting gleaming off of his visor.

After seemingly several klicks, Typho pulled the speeder to a stop in a tunnel that led to a staircase cut into the rocky walls. He pulled his helmet from under his seat, tucking it under his arm as the clones assembled in front of him. Making sure he had their attention, he spoke.

“From here on out, it’s imperative that you not be spotted by anyone outside of the small group of people that are aware of this plan. You must do exactly as I say, is that understood?”

The rest of the clones turned to Hunter, who nodded. “We understand, Captain Typho. We’ll follow your lead.”

The captain dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement, placing his helmet on his head, but Hunter could sense his continued unease. He turned and began climbing the stairs, and they followed. As they neared the top, Typho reached into his pocket to pull out a commlink, raising it to his lips. “Iden, do you read?”

A female voice responded. “Loud and clear, Captain.”

“Is she ready to receive her private appointment?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Affirmative. You have a clear shot all the way. I’ll lock down the entrances and have guards posted outside.”

“Excellent.” Turning back to them, Typho sighed. “Alright, let’s go. Try and stay away from windows if you can.”

They all nodded in acknowledgement. Typho keyed in the door’s code and they stepped through into a well-lit passageway with marble flooring and stained glass windows lining the hall. The corridor was empty, and they moved quickly to keep up with Typho’s pace. Echo had to keep elbowing Wrecker to hurry as he turned, taking in the architecture around them, slowing his strides to stare at the colorful windows.

“You’ll have time to be a tourist later. We’ve got to keep moving.”

Wrecker grunted but obliged, picking up the pace to keep up with the captain.

Typho led them up several flights of stairs and down several corridors before pausing outside a large set of closed double doors. “Iden, confirming we are clear?”

“All clear. Come on in, Captain.”

The doors swung open, and Typho motioned for them to follow him. The room they walked into had massive pillars encircling a seating area that was arranged around an ornate wooden desk. There were guards stationed around the room along with six women in matching dark robes, their hoods pulled low. A large window illuminated the room and the woman staring out of it. She turned to face them as they entered, clasping her hands in front of her.

Queen Kestia Nodala stood taller than most, her dark hair braided elaborately into the headpiece she wore, a silver diadem with dark blue stones that hung low on her forehead. Her gown billowed out, making her appear wider and more imposing with sharp shoulders and wide sleeves that hid most of her hands, only her white thumbnails poking out from the cuffs. Matching silver ornamentation lined the bodice of her gown, fanning out to the hem of the skirts, which flowed towards the floor. The queen wore the traditional white and red makeup of Naboo royalty, the red dots on her cheeks giving her face symmetry while a red line divided her lower lip in two, the Scar of Remembrance. Her green eyes glowed in the sunlight as she stepped forward to meet them.

Typho strode to her, removing his helmet again to tuck it under one arm as he bowed. The clones took their cue from him, removing their helmets as well.

“Queen Nodala, may I introduce Clone Force 99,” he gestured at them to step forward.

Hunter led the group, bowing stiffly. The queen watched him unwaveringly as he straightened, meeting her eyes.

“Your highness,” he said quietly.

His brothers bowed awkwardly behind him, doing their best to show respect even though they were all well out of their depth. There hadn’t been much time to meet politicians of any level during the war, much less any that were considered elected royalty.

The queen stared Hunter down for a few more moments before turning to Captain Typho. “I see my wish to handle this internally has been disregarded then,” her voice boomed with a slow, deliberate tone that made Wrecker shift uneasily on his feet. Her eyes snapped to him, and he quit moving, instead opting to stare at the floor.

“M’lady, we’ve discussed this,” Typho said quietly, his voice strained. “I do believe your safety warrants this measure.” Leaning closer and speaking so softly even Hunter could barely hear him. “And this was a compromise in my book, if we’re being honest.”

She watched him carefully for a few moments before letting her sharp eyes return to the clones, roving over each of them in turn. “Very well. As it appears my captain has decided you are necessary for my safety, I will accept his judgement. For now.” She swept forward, extending a hand to Hunter.

The rest of the clones watched as their sergeant fumbled with how to best greet the royalty before him. Finally, after several awkward moments, he clasped her hand, bowing again. He saw Tech nod slightly out of the corner of his eye and internally breathed a sigh of relief at somehow managing to get that right.

“Hunter, your highness.”

“M’lady,” Tech coughed behind him less than subtly.

Hunter shot him a glare before correcting himself. “M’lady.”

I guess I should be happy he at least tried to be sly about it.

As Hunter lifted his head, he could have sworn a smile tugged at the corner of the queen’s lips as he released her hand. Tech moved in next to make sure his brothers could see the appropriate protocol.

“Tech, m’lady,” he said, dipping his head as he clasped her hand gently. Hunter noted the muscles in her forearm flexing as she gently squeezed Tech’s hand before he released her fingers, raising his eyes to meet hers. Despite her initially stoic demeanor, the queen seemed slightly amused by Tech, her eyes sparkling and her mouth quirking upwards at his bespectacled brother.

Her reaction surprised Hunter, but then again, if she found Tech somewhat entertaining as a first impression, he wasn’t about to shatter that illusion.

We’ll see if she’s as tickled once he starts correcting her every move, he thought with a smirk.

Not everyone had the patience for Tech, and this queen seemed at least somewhat impatient based on her interactions with Typho. The captain was behaving as though he’d been anticipating a fight ever since they stepped into the throne room, and while one hadn’t materialized, Hunter could still see he was tensed in the way his spine was ramrod straight and the way his jaw was clenched, watching her carefully.

Once they’d all been introduced, the queen turned back to Captain Typho. “I suppose we should get these men into clothing that’s less conspicuous.”

He nodded. “Yes, m’lady. I had planned on disguising them as security officers.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What exactly will differentiate them, then?”

“They’ll be stationed right next door to your quarters and at least one of them will be with you at all times.”

Her mouth tightened into a thin line, and they could all see she was half a second from arguing with him again before another guard strode into the room. She was short with her hair pulled back into a slick plait. She appraised the clones for a moment before addressing the queen.

“Apologies for the intrusion, m’lady, but your next appointment is here.” Hunter recognized the woman as the Iden that they’d heard speaking with Typho during their walk to the throne room.

The queen narrowed her eyes at Typho in annoyance as she turned to acknowledge the information. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I shall receive them once Captain Typho and our guests have departed.”

With that, Typho bowed stiffly before turning on his heel and leading the clones out of the throne room the way they’d come, the massive double doors swinging shut behind them with a dull thud.

*Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @readheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @wolffegirlsunite @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

*If you do not wish to be tagged in this rewrite, please let me know (same goes for Reunion)

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spotsupstuff · 9 months

Text

"Can I...?" her hands cautiously reach upwards to his head.

Orion's Pathway tilts his head at the request, eyeing the curious yet polite hands with confusion. "Can what? Gotta give me a little more to work with here." But still he scoots to sit a little closer to the miracle that is the Tinkerer. It would do no good if she thought his reply some form of shunning.

"T-touch the feathers... only that. I'm sorry if that is rude to ask, I just- haven't seen any birds around yet. Ales used to be brimming with them, their absence is... making me anxious."

"Ah," he nods, lowering his head down for her in permission. The touch of fingertips is light, as if the Tinkerer could be worried that putting any more pressure would hurt. Ridiculous a notion at this point- now he knows- he's taken enough hits into the head either from the fauna, flora or the environment itself to know he can take quite a bit.

So the antenna disguising for a wing presses a little against her, thankfully achieving the goal of giving her some confidence in the pats.

"...they feel real." the Tinkerer mutters underneath her breath.

Orion chooses to take some pride in that, "That'd be because they are! Only coated with such and so, so they would not waste away. I've been told they were collected from a siring bird, one that up North they've seen as a symbol of peace."

Her eyes squint a little, to betray a hidden smile. "Did the 'siring' bit play any part in all of that endless symbolism they used to love applying to the puppets?"

And his tone turns sad at that. Much to his own annoyance, getting the Tinkerer to feel any sort of light is such a chore all the time and now he kills it so quickly- "Protection. Fostering. Cherishing a life, guarding it with joy- out of joy, for joy." And he gives her a meaningful look, a stern one- he hopes she understands it.

That when it comes to it, no matter the history, he'll do his best to apply those words to her. To everyone here in the heart of the Root's signal.

A quiet signal of 'you are not alone'. Supplied with, 'please remember that'.

The Tinkerer glances away quickly at that, hand stilling, finding a resting place over the audial port.

"...what happened to all the birds?" He pulls away, righting his sitting position. Why is she like this. Always shying away from the offer of comfort, running back to coldness of depression as if it was a sanctuary?

She takes the motion with panic, both hands held up in surrender. "I-I mean! I'm not assuming you know everything! If you don't, that's fine, I swear!" Did someone give her a hard time for assuming that? Ugh. Another thing for him to investigate. That used to be their job, of course she'll assume it.

"It is fine." Orion tells her, gently pushing her hands back down. "They all slowly died out. As most things unfortunately do."

"...oh."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You don't have to apologize for things that aren't your fault."

'It is my fault you are sad again,' flashes through his brain, processes- and remains unsaid. She'd only argue against it.

The Tinkerer curls up a little tighter, leaning against the cracked wall and old dusty pillows making up the window seats of the highest floor in the building they designated for medical care. He hates how small she looks like this. Terrified and lonely, not unlike a fledgling.

Her eyes are misted over, looking both into the night, to the Aeolus Root where the senior is certainly still working away and into nothing. Into memories of a life long passed, he's sure. She gets that look far too often.

"What do you miss the most?"

"Hmh?" she startles-

"From your original life. From when you were 'meant' to be here, as you say."

"When you say it it sounds stupid." She deadpans and he can't help but give her his version of a grin.

"That's 'cuz it is, Blue."

All he gets for that great wisdom is a huff and a glare, soon redirected back out of the window. At least her shoulders are less tense now.

"I suppose...," she starts and oh, he's relieved she will actually answer and not let the conversation die there. "I miss my family the most. And what they used to do."

"Leaving the shoes in front of the door, I'd always trip and then yell at whoever's the things were. We ended up laughing and play-arguing each time. I miss walking barefoot through the house, to the kitchen to help mom cook. At dinner I'd give my big brothers shit for never helping out in there and then the next day I'd catch them wrestling with my laundry, trying to dry it outside before the rains would come."

Just as he hoped, a smile starts returning to her eyes. A softer one, a little maloncholic- but a smile nonetheless.

"Playing chase with my youngest siblings outside, playing hide and seek in the crops... I miss being able to put down my mask and just sit in a living room with an instrument, humming whatever melody that'd cross my mind. And everyone would gather with me with either instruments too or just their voices." She tears up a little there. Hides her face behind her knees and arms.

"It felt so warm... Their smiles were beautiful." And her voices wavers into a wet shaky exhale.

It gives Orion a pause. That feels like a good cry, something she does need to get out. So he doesn't shush her, say much of anything- only scoots a little closer again. This time enough so that he presses a little against her side. She takes it as a lifeline, trading the cold wall for him, huddling against his clothes.

And though it's awkward, with him facing the other way, he puts an arm around her anyway. So she knows that she isn't alone while she silently cries her unfixable pains away.

To give her some time, he looks over the room.

It's warm here, too. Finally. It took a while to fix the damage enough, get some insulation going. The air filtration system is still a work in progress, but at least the night's chill won't get to them here.

Sporadic Change is humming distracted melodies while prodding some contents of a pot over the fireplace. A remedy for that gnash the Tinkerer has managed to score today while fighting off a lizard. Right next to it food is being made. Finally their organic charge will have a full stomach.

The Southern Winds are chatting quietly at a table, the younger sometimes snickering, the older hugging its sister to its hip while it speaks. They said they thought it'd be nice to keep them all some company, visit their older brother.

The one who's being helped up the stairs by a grumbling Fish. Even while infected by one of the most horrifying illnesses they can bear, Euros makes it a point to verbally jab at the elder. Giving a raspy laugh when the other gives him one of the most venomous side-eyes Orion has ever seen on such a religious person.

But still Fish helps Euros to the hastily put together couch, gently guides him down to sit comfortably enough. Still he checks over the bandages hiding the nasty infection from the rest of them. And Euros still thanks him earnestly.

And Orion's Pathway wonders- thumb slowly stroking the Tinkerer's shoulder while she mourns her lost family- if she will be able to see the other family waiting for her just behind her back, once her eyes clear of tears.

#rw #oc tag #my writing #ugh... -strikes a pose- pain in my heart #written just now without proofreading while listening to 'air so sweet' by dodie. recommend listenin to that actually

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lullaebies · 9 months

Note

Hi, I love your content Helaegon, it's just wonderful! 💗

I was wondering if you could write some headcanons about Aegon and Jaehaera's relationship? He would definitely melt for his one and only little princess 😭🤧

I actually have done some already over here, but I don't mind adding a few more! Aegon II & Jaehaera Headcanons Part 2 ⫺ I have vaguely mentioned it in other headcanons regarding the kids, but I think Aegon would be really defensive when it comes to people criticizing his children, and I think it would particularly hit hard with Jaehaera who is the gentlest one. I genuinely feel like he would fire a septa over saying Jaehaera isn't good enough at reading or anything about her being too fussy. It's kind of a reflection of how he was never good enough, and frankly his daughter would try better than he ever tried, so anyone who dares speak vaguely ill of her - out. ⫺ I think Jaehaera is the type of girl that has kind of ghostly steps, as in you can't hear her when she comes and it's often a surprise. She's very good at following Aegon without him noticing and when she does reveal herself, by calling him or touching him he's spooked af. She's known to not laugh or smile much, but I do think she likes surprising her dad and when he reacts (and consequentaly, tries to play it off) she's very pleased with crinkled eyes. If she didn't hug him after Aegon might've been offended, actually. ⫺ Jaehaera has a a few necklaces or bracelets that have similar imagery to what Aegon wears. They are gifts from dad on her and Jaehaerys's nameday. She personally keeps her gifts as a collection and only wears them on important days. (Jaehaerys has his own version of this hc regarding nameday gifts, which is quite different in comparison btw). ⫺ Because of her following him around she also knows about some obscure areas and pathaways in the castle. Sometimes Aegon is seriously the only person who knows where to find her. She'd play hide and seek with Jaehaerys and Aegon II would have to find her dozing off in some Maegor Ancient™️ pathaway that she followed him into once. Obviously he carries her back to bed, and tells her not to go there - but I mean, she also gets her dad's attention this way, so tough luck, Aegon. ⫺ If she got to grow up with him, I think she'd be the kid Aegon feels most comfortable beside because she's more careful with the words she picks, but she'd also probably be the kid whose words strike the hardest for him when she tells him things as they are. Three bottles of wine down his throat when she tells him she is upset with him. She's usually the one that mediates, so when she gives up he really feels like shit. Damage control Aegon comes out in that case; he knows he gotta rectify the situation in this case. Bending over to the family's whims for [put a spongebob amount of time flash card] because damn, he knows she's right and he would make sure he's enough of a dad to not make her and the rest feel like they're not.

#aegon ii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #hotd #answered #my headcanons

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pumpkinstrawbrew · 8 months

Text

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕪… ⋭

…

(so, where to begin? i guess from the simple fact, that i wanted to do smth fun with this clean-cut parallel. at first, i wanted to make some quick edits, but then, i decided what the heck. i might just re-draw it! *or sort of re-draw it anyways*

the shippy stuff is shippy, but really it was hard not to be all like *insert dicaprio pointing meme* when i was reading the venom comic, and flash just pulled a batman on me. beat jack up, n’ then instead of killing him, like he wanted to, he spared him. took him in his arms all gently-like n’ carried his sorry ass into the dawn. like man, it just hit the cords within me! i was all like oohhh, it's like in one of my most fav scarecrow issues! i wasn't expecting this from the comic, even less so from flash, who always had a bit of bipolar resolute, when it came to jack. 'he wanna kill him, he wanna kill him not'. that sort of thing. yet, this moment kind of shown, that he prob will always find a reason to talk himself out of putting him down.

that's aside, another part of why i love those stories, is that both issues felt personal. both, jon n’ jack had personal grudges, both batman and flash were struggling with personal darkness within them. both overcame it, n' literally had to beat up their personal walking-talking nightmare *flash even refers to jack as that later on*. like, it was pretty great, honestly. all that emotional baggage, uncanny kinships with their own twisted mirror, which resulted in them actually feeling sympathy for scarecrow n' jack. giving them a small speech, that they couldn’t hear *bc unconscious*, sort of implying that maybe ‘they’re not beyond help’. it's almost bitter-sweet. even if most people would argue, that both jon n’ jack are way-way too far gone at that point. even if 'solution' sounds too unrealistic to be true. still, if someone like batman believes in you, then maybe, just maybe there is a chance. n’ if someone like flash spares your life, even though, he’s nothing like bruce *he actually killed people before*, then perhaps, there is smth beyond projection, which made him do it.

all 4 characters are very different, n’ thb the context in everyone’s motivations n’ struggles are very different too, but i love how bruce n’ flash came to the same conclusion. took the same route with their respective twinky ghoul. showing mercy is noble, n’ it’s pretty sweet tbh. one of my fav tropes in fiction is when the hero/protagonist shows kindness/empathy toward their villain *who in most cases doesn’t ‘deserve it*. that whole cop out thing about 'evil should be punished by death' in fiction really takes away the romantism n' bendiness of fiction as whole tbh. esp with heroes. they supposed to be able to do 'impossible', including 'forgive the unforgiving'. this is why i prob will always advocate for the ‘no kill’ rule for super-heroes. i mean, it makes you have moments like those. smth that is actually emotional n’ also shows the cracks in heroes themselves, bc usually they can only truly relate to their rogues, someone who is usually designed to be a warped up reflection of hero’s own weaknesses, struggles or traumas. n’ while i always see jack o’lantern as spiderman’s villain *he’s one of oldies, a classic villain after all*, i suppose, that this version of jack was tailored for flash’s venom specifically, n’ i *unexpectedly* i loved it. daddy's issues run deep in this one for both of them. meanwhile, bruce be out there lecturing jon's school bullies, after he nearly killed them. what a man lol.

now, the comic panels themselves. just for better visualisation.

i didn’t include the first bit in my lil art thingy above, but i love how not only the venom mirrors batman in actions, but also how they’re even facing opposite sides, playing around with nearly opposite color pallets in each fight too. caters to the mood, but also it just looks nice side by side tbh. the blue/black/grey for batman, and orange/dark brown/yellow for venom. a dark knight / soldier n' maskless halloween villain. this prob the only point, where they connect narratively n' thematically, but it's a major one.

anyho', i didn't had a hardcore goal to re-draw those scenes to a t, just make it recognizable for the most part. but it was fun! also gave me an execuse to stare at those comic panels some more.

as for the song, it popped out inside my head kinda randomly. but it fits them, i think. even the tune itself adds to it. somewhat sad n’ slow. but the meaning of it, not fully hopeless. at least, they will always have someone there for them. after all, guys like jon n’ jack will always come back, seeking ‘their hero’, hungry for punishment or other things. n’ for someone as crippled as bruce or flash, it might not be the worst thing, really. usually, the hero is stuck in the same miserable 'unchanging', unwinnable situation as their villains are. be it outside forces, fate or sickness, that keeps them bond. it's still better to try and make the best of it, right?)

#batman comic #venom comics #bruce wayne #jonathan crane #flash thompson #jack o' lantern #dc & marvel #scarebat #flashjack #brew draws

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jokingmisfit · 9 months

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'First' Sights Part 2

Eobard Thawne x Reader

This a part 2 read part 1 first

Warnings- Main character deaths, fear, little description of gore

It was another twenty minutes when I got a message back saying they were sending him back now. With dread in my stomach I made my way back down to help ensure everything went according to plan.

Making my way down the corridor, I find it odd how quiet it is. Looking into the cortex I find a horrific scene. I find it hard to keep everything in my stomach as I stand in fear.

Blood splattered and slightly dried on the main desk. Screens are pulled up to the pipeline cell, which is empty. None of this was as horrific as Joe who laid on the floor leaned against the chair with his heart ripped out of his chest and a look of terror on his face.

Shakily I moved through the front of the cortex. An empty table sat holding a slouched Catlin. Her head rested against the table and her hand held tightly the pole next to her. Walking a bit closer I see the hole in her back… And her heart on the floor.

Where the hell is Cisco?

What the hell happened?

I ran down to the pipeline.

“Harry!” I scream out. “Barry!” I scream louder.

I finally find Harry laying against the wall. His hair is matted and there are dry tears on his face. There’s no holes in his clothes or skin, but there’s also no heartbeat or breath in his lungs.

My breathing is ragged as I continue down the hall. I haven’t felt so tense, so emotional in a long time. A part of me feels like this isn’t real. A part of me doesn't believe they’re actually dead.

I make my way to the closing, but still there’s no evidence other than their bodies.

“Barry!” I scream out.

I could hear the echo before the wind hit me.

Red. The lightning was red.

I should’ve known Eobard did this…

I turn to face the man in yellow clad and watch him take off his cowl. His eyes glow with pride. His lips turn up in a snarky smile.

“There you are.” He says smiling. “Did you see your little gifts?”

“Where’s Barry?” I whisper.

“Don’t know, don’t care. He’s not important right now.” He says while slowly stepping towards me.

I shake my head in confusion. “You’re obsessed with him; what do you mean he doesn’t matter? I don’t get it… you. He, Barry, wouldn't have let you kill them.”

“Well Flash wasn’t quite fast enough.” Eobard softly grabs my arms. He tilts his head while looking at me.

“Why are you here, what could you have possibly gained from any of this?” My voice breaks at the end of my sentence.

I’ve never felt so helpless, so defeated, confused, and… hurt. I just don’t understand.

He shakes his head with a breathless laugh. “I had to come back to get you, silly girl. I couldn’t just leave you here alone could I?”

I rip my arms away from him. I raise my voice, “You said you didn’t love me! You told me you were faking, using me! You left!” I pause. “How do you even remember me? You, you aren’t the same Eobard I know. You’re not, you're not supposed to know me, so how d-”

“Of course I had to pretend you weren’t important. I needed things to go according to my plans… Then foolish Eddie thought he could be a hero. I had back ups however. I made one little contingency plan just for you.” He steps forward and grips my hands as he speaks. “I used the negative speed force to propel my memories of you and my plans to another version of myself. And once I received those memories I knew I needed to get my princess back.”

I couldn’t gather the words or thoughts. Eobard came back for me. Eobard loves me. Eobard killed all of my friends, but I didn’t actually like them. I didn’t care. It’s like a train. All of the emotions I’ve shut out, coming back.

Tears gathered in my eyes. My voice was broken and quiet, but I need to know. “You love me?”

The smile he gave could light the sky. “I love you.”

A deep breath and a look around. I smile.

“Then take me home, Eobard.”

#eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #reverse flash #reverse flash x reader #the flash cw #the flash #arrowverse #yandere eobard thawne x reader #yandere eobard thawne #yandere reverse flash

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the-way-of-words · 1 year

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Kissed All The Boys In Your City Lights Part One

Nick Ruffilo x Holly(ofc), Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo, mentions of Noah Sebastian x Holly(ofc) and Nick Ruffilo x Holly(ofc) x Noah Sebastian

Content warnings: oral sex, fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex

Contains sexual situations with fictionalized versions of real people. Not into it? Hit the back button

Part of the PolyVerse // MasterList

Why yes, she has seen the videos. Thank you very much. Yes, and the various points of view… multiple times. Holly's not a super jealous woman by default, kinda hard to be when you're dating two men who also sometimes hook up with each other. She's also not one to be over-self-conscious. There are moments, of course, on those lonely nights when the doubt creeps in; when she tries not to think about all the women they could meet on the road and how they differ from her. Better looking, maybe, a little more tight muscle where she's soft skin, but then she's the first call when they're done, sometimes even before load out, because they miss her. Her, with all her faults and imperfections.

It helps that they both let her know what happened before the videos surfaced. Noah with a shocked, shy tone telling her they both got flashed at that night's gig, Nick's own voice not much different. It doesn't upset her, frankly she almost expected it to happen, they're on the way up, big time rock stars in the making. She's not mad, no, but does she do something that one might consider stupid after she says goodnight to her boys? Yes. She pulls her shirt up, exposing the lacy bralette underneath, positions herself in a way that she knows makes her shit look good, taking the picture and sending it before she can talk herself out of it.

She has quick settings on.. where the picture is only available once before it's gone, but it's viewed all the same. Holly doesn't have to wait long before the reply comes in.

<Jolly> Really? Giving me just a peek then it's gone forever…

Didn't take you for a cruel one, sweet girl.

She remembers the last time he called her sweet girl, when he kissed her own taste from her lips after he watched Noah take her apart. Her insides heat but she refuses to let him have any kind of upper hand, so she quickly shoots off a response.

<Holly> Well. Heard my knuckleheads got a free show tonight. Only fair for you to get one as well.

<Jolly> How very kind of you.

Do they know about this?

<Holly> Nope.

But please, share. They could use a humbling.

<Jolly> Hah. Anyone ever tell you you're a little evil?

<Holly> Once or twice. Now I'm going to bed.

Goodnight.x

There are four messages waiting for Holly in the group chat when she wakes, in varying degrees of disbelief and suspicion.

<Noah> Really? Jolly got a boob pic?

<Nick> Holls.

<Noah> What are you playing at, beautiful girl?

<Nick> I thought you said you weren't mad?

She can imagine the both of them right now, in their separate bunks, on the road to the next gig. Noah with that smirk of his, sure she's playing at something, hiding something up her sleeve; Nick with that look on his face, the one with the particular crease between his brows that betrays whatever worry he's trying to hide.

<Holly> I'm not mad. I meant that last night. I'm also not playing at anything.

Just figured Jolly deserved a little something since he missed the show.

<Nick> Yeah, but now he won't stop gloating about how he got a peep show from you and we didn't.

<Holly> Is he now?

<Noah> Holly. We can hear the smugness in your voice from here.

<Holly> Well, good thing you guys see my boobs the most. I know you have pictures saved.

Safe travels.x

If anyone were to ask, she doesn't really know what this whole thing with Jolly is… or if it even is a thing. It's not like she's bored, Nick and Noah keep her plenty occupied, and she’s very satisfied with what they have. But there was something about knowing he was there, knowing he had his eyes on her that set her nerve endings on fire. He hasn’t touched her, apart from the one kiss, and she doesn’t know if he ever will. What she knows, however, is that it's fun, and neither Noah nor Nick have a problem with what's happening.

She hasn't told them, but Jolly helped secure her a spot on the list for one of their next gigs. It's a quick trip. She resolutely does not think about what the cost of the plane ticket and hotel is going to do to her bank account but she's using her meager "travel savings" anyway. It'll be worth it, seeing them, even for a short time.

The knock on the hotel room door comes sooner than she's expecting. Either she took too long in the shower or he told the cab driver to step on it. Holly pauses long enough to make sure it's really Nick on the other side before opening the door to him. He may be stunned at the sight of her in the short hotel provided towel, but he's the one that takes her by surprise; wrapping a hand around her waist to pull her close as soon as the door closes behind him, the other pulling the towel from her body. The kiss he gives her is filthy, full of promise of what's to come.

Holly reaches for him when her back hits the bed, but Nick shakes his head, a pleased smile forming on his lips. "No… no, not yet, Holls. Just let me look at you." He leans forward, a hand coming to the soft skin of her lower belly, leaving heat in its wake as it travels up her torso, caressing both of her breasts. She shivers when he circles his thumb around the areola of a nipple, neglecting the sensitive nub itself. "Aren't you a sight? All laid out in front of me. Shit. I don't know where to start."

Holly whimpers when his hands start a path back down her body, "You can start anywhere you want, just touch me. Please."

She almost wants to smack him when he chuckles, fingers tracing patterns on the skin of her thighs, "But I am touching you… unless you mean you want me to touch you here." Fingers dip between her legs to skim along her sensitive folds and she sucks in a breath because yes, that's exactly where she wants him to touch her. Holly’s eyes close as he dips his thumb into her, and she can't find it in herself to be embarrassed at how wet he finds her. It's been a month, maybe longer, since she's been this close to him. His thumb comes to rub at her clit, spreading the wetness around and Holly moans quietly at the subtle heat it brings to her belly.

"That's it," he says around a soft groan on his own, "I know exactly where to start." Her eyes open when his touch leaves her, raising herself up on her elbows she watches as he removes his jacket before pulling his hair back with the elastic he keeps on his wrist. She moves herself back on the bed, spreads her thighs a little more to make room for him as he joins her. The first touch of his tongue to her clit has her head falling back with a gasp at the feel. He teases her a bit, light flicks of his tongue over the sensitive nub before sealing his lips around it, mouth moving in a way that has her collapsing back onto the sheets.

The moan that escapes her mouth when two fingers enter her borders on obscene, but she can't find it in herself to care. Especially not when he pulls his mouth away to praise her, "Fuck, look at you. You always take me so well… doesn't matter if it's my fingers or my cock…" He trails off, head turning to press a wet kiss to the skin of her inner thigh, "Can you take another one?" And she nods, a breathless yes leaving her when he pulls his fingers back, leaving her empty.

She feels so deliciously full when his fingers enter her again, three of them this time, and she can't help but roll her hips, meeting the rhythm of his fingers. He nips at her inner thigh, sucking a mark around the stinging skin; light explodes behind her closed eyelids and she comes with a shout when his lips seal around her clit again, legs shaking as she clenches around his fingers, aftershocks rolling through her.

Holly's eyes blink open when his fingers leave her and she catches him rising from the bed to remove his clothes. It doesn't take long for him to return, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue as he presses his cock into her. They both gasp when he pulls back, bringing one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, the angle letting him hit all the right spots as he moves inside her. Fingers dig into the skin of her thigh and she knows he's close, can feel it in the way his rhythm is slipping. She feels her own pleasure building again, ready to set fire to her veins, when Nick's thumb presses down on her clit and that, combined with everything else, has her tipping over edge again just as his hips still and fills her with a shout.

She accepts his weight when he falls forward to rest against her, both of them catching their breath, taking a minute to revel in the feeling of him against her, pressing her into the mattress. She misses this, just feeling him over her, sheltering her from everything else that isn't them and this present moment. Groaning, Nick pulls out, rolling to settle on his side to look at her and Holly does the same; moving to her side to meet his gaze. His hand buries itself in her dark hair as he cups the back of her head, "If we would have known you were coming, we could have put you on the list for tonight."

Her fingers caress the skin of his shoulder working their way down until she grasps the wrist of the hand in her hair, "I already got that covered," she says with a smile.

His eyes narrow, "Who," and she watches as the realization dawns on his face, giggling when he closes his eyes and utters, "Jolly."

Rolling her eyes, she says, "Don't get mad at him, I roped him into it."

His eyes open to hers when he replies, "I'm not mad, just surprised you both kept this a secret for… how long have you been planning this?"

She laughs, "A week and a half, maybe?"

"Jesus. A week and a half?? What else are you capable of hiding?!" He huffs out a laugh of his own before asking, "And Noah's gonna know…"

"After the gig tonight… So please think of something to say about where you've been." She winces, because as prepared as she is, she didn't think this part through.

"Oh. So now I have to figure out how to lie to your other boyfriend… Is that what this is now?" He says it jokingly, but somehow she knows she's gonna pay for this later.

"Yes?"

Jolly's the first one Nick sees when he makes his way back to the venue and the smirk on his face is unbearable, "Have a good time?"

Nick points a finger in his direction, "I can't believe you hid that from us, asshole."

"What? She's very persuasive when she wants to be… but I'm pretty sure you know that already." Jolly laughs back at him. "Noah's been looking for you, you know what you're gonna tell him yet?"

"Yeah, Nick. What are you gonna tell me?" His face heats as Noah's voice cuts in behind him. "You left a little over an hour ago and no one seems to know where you went…"

When he turns around, the other man's leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and Nick would think he's unbothered, if it weren't for the intensity in his eyes.

"Well," Jolly says with a clap of his hands, "looks like that's my cue to leave you guys to it. See you soon." Nick watches the man leave, silently cursing the both of them, Jolly and Holly, for putting him in this position. He cuts the bullshit and just tell him, because no matter what he says, Noah's gonna see through it, anyway; and really, what was Holly expecting to happen here?

"I saw Holly." He says, dragging the words out while gauging Noah's reaction. Nick can see the wheels turning in the other man's head and cuts him off before he can spiral. "I didn't know she was coming… Apparently her and Jolly have been planning this for about a week. She said wanted to see us separately, have some alone time with both of us." He finishes with a shrug, hoping he softened the blow.

Noah's got that curious look on his face that Nick knows means nothing good. The last time Noah looked at him like that, they hooked up after Lys broke up with him and Noah had just been with Holly. "Did you fuck her?"

Noah's voice brings him out of the memory with a start. "Uh… yeah. I had our girlfriend alone… of course I fucked her." Nick pauses, he thinks he knows where Noah's going with this, and takes the upper hand before Noah can. He lowers his voice before he speaks again. "I took the time to eat her out before I did though, you should have heard the sound she made when she came on my fingers."

He can't help the satisfaction he feels when he sees Noah's jaw clench, it's a feeling that's quickly taken over by shock when Noah grasps his shirt and hauls him close for a wet, dirty kiss; shoving his tongue into Nick's mouth. It's over quickly, but it gets Noah's message across… he’s pissed.

"Don't be too upset with her, okay? You know our girl, she doesn't have bad intentions with us." Nick tries, once he catches his breath..

"Oh, I'm not upset." Noah replies, sounding anything but not upset and Nick doesn't even try to stop his eyes from rolling before he levels his friend with a look of disbelief. "What? I'm not. I'm happy that she's here, and I can't wait to see her. Now c'mon, they're waiting for us."

Nick doesn't believe a goddamn word Noah just said about not being upset, and he really hopes Holly thought this through enough to know what she's going to be dealing with this evening. A small part of him wonders if he should let her know, but the other part of him, the one that knows Holly, thinks she brought this on herself and she can handle it.

The line from the door is so long it's wrapping around the block when the cab pulls up. Holly's stomach twists and turns as she waits for Jolly to get her inside; she wants to laugh at herself, she's never been this nervous to see them play. Feeling self-conscious, she pulls the hood of her jacket down over her face a little more when a side door opens and Jolly peeks out, arm waving her in when he spots her, careful to keep most of her face hidden as she weaves through the line of people. It's not that she's embarrassed, it's just that she knows what some of these people will do when they see a woman around any of the members of the band and she'd like to keep her privacy for as long as she can.

Jolly pulls her into a quick hug when the door shuts behind her and places a lanyard over her head before directing her where to go. "Best spot in the house," he says with a wry smile as he sends her on her way.

Turns out he was right; she's up on the second floor, but close enough to the stage she can see everything clearly. The show is excellent, and she enjoys every band that takes the stage, her nerves fading into nothing as she lets the music wash over her. It's amazing to see how wild the crowd goes when her boys take the stage, and she can't help how her heart swells. She would come to every gig if she could, just watch them. It becomes apparent quickly, however, that Nick shared something he shouldn't have, obvious in how Noah seems to search as he looks around the room with purpose. Any work the night has done to settle her nerves so far is gone in the blink of an eye. Holly doesn't know how much of the crowd he can see from the stage, but she turns away anyway when his gaze gets a little too close for comfort.

She evades his gaze for the entire first song, and she feels herself relax again, until Noah's eyes find hers. Fixing her with a look she's all too familiar with; the one he uses when she teases him just a little too much, one he fixes on her after too much time apart. Holly can't help it, the way her thighs clench together, an almost pavlovian response, as he stares right into her eyes, that fucking crown he got from someone the crowd perched atop his head.

She spends the rest of the show suspended in a kind of limbo, caught somewhere between nervous and excited. It makes it hard to enjoy the music, breath catching in her throat every time he so much as glances in her direction. Nick almost looks sheepish whenever he looks at her and she wonders what he told Noah about their time together. Holly's anticipation for the rest of the evening reaches its peak as the show finishes, her nerves a mess when the overhead lights come on and for a split second there's three sets of eyes on her, instead of the normal two.

<Holly> Can I get a kiss from you before I go?

Working her way through the throng of people, she follows the directions Nick texted her. She pushes her way through a door off the side of the stage, and there he is. There's a light sheen of sweat over his face and he smells a little musky, but there's no other place she'd rather be as he crowds into her space, lips sealing over hers. He pulls away, forehead resting against hers, "Thank you for being here tonight, I think we both needed it."

"I’m glad I could be. You guys were amazing." Holly pauses, "But Noah seemed to know to look for me…" she says with her eyes narrowed.

Nick laughs nervously. "Yeah… so good luck with that tonight. Although something tells me, you might have been angling for this reaction." He says, pulling back to get a better look at her face.

"Uhh… no. I knew he'd feel a certain type of way finding out after the show. But now he's been able to think about it all night, so thanks for that." He has the gall to laugh at her again earning himself a smack on his shoulder.

"Nah, babe, you knew I wouldn't be able to lie to him… I just wish I could be there to watch, but I think I'm on his shit list right now." She wishes he could be there too, but he already had his time, and this is about her and Noah now. He leans in, giving her one last kiss before fully stepping away from her. "You better go if you don't want him to catch you here. I'm actually surprised he hasn't already."

"Alright, alright… I'll call you later okay? Love you." Holly freezes as soon as the words leave her mouth. She wasn't even thinking about it, but it's not as if she doesn't feel that way. They all know it, this just isn't the way she envisioned the first time she'd say it.

Nick huffs out a shocked laugh, but he doesn't make a big deal out of it. He just smiles, a Love you too, leaving his lips before she turns to go.

Holly can feel Noah's eyes on her as soon as she leaves Nick and the backstage area. She doesn't turn to look for him though, trying to hold on to some control over the situation. The feeling stays with her until she makes her way outside, the cool night air providing a welcome relief as she waits for her cab. She's halfway back to the hotel when the text comes.

<Noah> You gonna tell me where to find you, or do I need to ask Nick?

<Holly> The Radisson on 12th

Room 638

Part Two

#nick ruffilo/ofc #nick ruffilo/noah sebastian #noah sebastian/ofc #bandom fic #rpf #bad omens rpf #bad omens fanfiction #smut fic #nick ruffilo #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo

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