#ohhhh i should draw him with his hood up... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

legobiwan · 4 years

Text

Thrawn: Treason (the rest of it)

Wow, Assistant Director Assbucket is the literal worst, I can’t believe Thrawn foisted him on Ar’alani at the end that poor woman puts up with a lot with Thrawn I never thought I’d live to see the day Grand Admiral “I have a plan for everything” Thrawn being the insane troublemaker of the Chiss.

Anyone notice Eli was starting to sounds a little...Thrawn-ish towards the end of the book? At least, when he was reassuring Vah'nya he would kill her and the other navigators if the Chiss fell to the Grysks???

But let’s back up a moment to the mission on Aloxor. ONCE AGAIN, I am so happy to see Thrawn’s strange cosplay fetish rearing its head, right where (or perhaps I should say wear hahahahah I’m so funny I’ll be here all night, make sure to try the chicken) it belongs - with Eli Vanto.

I love that Ronan cannot let go of his stupid cloak given to him by the Supreme Being of All Light and Intelligence Director Krennic what is Ronan’s deal with Krennic???

But Mole/Dayja had it right when said all people in charge love capes. Hahahahahahaha. Too right.

Savit’s little internal monologue about petty politics and corruption being the death of the Empire was really interesting because - as we all remember - the exact same accusation was lobbed at the Republic. And the Republic was bloated and corrupt and ruled by petty politics that ended up drawing the Jedi in and that didn’t end well but the same thing is happening in the Empire, just on an accelerated time-scale. Which makes me wonder, did Sidious believe that once the Death Star was up and running, it would quell any grumblings because everyone would just be too terrified to say otherwise? I mean, what was Sidious’s endgame being immortality and ultimate power? What do you even do at that point? (This gets a little close to the philosophical debate that death gives meaning and Sidious’s whole thing was avoiding death and I just kind of wonder what the point is after a while. Ultimate POWAH, I suppose.)

ANWAY.

Who was it in the book that pointed out that every weapon, ship, etc has a weak point, including the Death Star? I feel like it was Thrawn, but maybe it was Savit. Anyway, hahahaha foreshadowng.

Okay, so Savit was playing Imperial Robin Hood, stealing from Stardust to arm the rest of the Navy because he felt Stardust was both shortsighted and an onus on the budget. He’s not wrong. The Death Star is kind of a stupid gamble, and you have to wonder if Sheevy Sheev was getting a little too confident (as Luke pointed out in RotJ) and thus put all of his space eggs in one space basket. I mean, the man loves consolidating power, and a Death Star is just another step in that direction - but...it’s a bad idea??????

BUT. THE MUSIC THING WITH SAVIT HAD ME ROLLING. You guys have to understand, I finished listening to this while I was out on my run and I was laughing so hard at this scene I just had to stop on the street, double over, and cackle loudly through my mask. Thankfully, we’re still shut down over here, so there were fewer people to stare at me like I was insane, but this was great.

First of all, Savit arguing that he’s not an artist, he’s a musician and then between that the Ronan commenting on the hand gestures I knew exactly where this was going to go and it didn’t disappoint one bit.

I love that Thrawn says music is too up to interpretation, ah yes, composition - the true death of the author. (And the true death of the composer, who is likely spinning in their grave.) Except Ronan Savit plays (and conducts!) his own works. Starting with the high winds (of course, there are too many high wind players out there, market’s tight you have broaden your activities hahahahahahahaha), and then expanding as he gained status. I’m not entirely sure how this fed into his patronage/favors by the Coruscanti elite (did they just really like increasingly bombastic music?) but I’m totally willing to roll with it.

Anyway, this was GREAT I needed this ridiculousness in my life I’m so glad that whole conversation from the beginning of the book between Krennic and Savit came back. I love Thrawn and his art analysis classes can I audit the next one? Just for fun?

By the way, I am so glad Zahn didn’t go down the romance route with Eli and Vah'nya, I was a little afraid of that but it was unfounded.

But Eli. Ohhhh Eli. Your secret mission that you don’e even know about aboard the Steadfast. He’s analyzing numbers and data from Navigators in order for the Ascendancy to be able to locate future Navigators and perhaps gain insight into their skill. Their skill is Third Sight (and rarely, Second Sight), which is essentially Force-sensitivity. The Chiss are trying to locate Force-sensitives. As in, trying to create something like the holocron in the Jedi Archives that listed Force-sensitive babies. Hooooo boi. Sidious would want to get his paws on that and I think Thrawn knows that. Thrawn, despite his loyalty to the Empire (loyalty that goes deep enough that he brought in Savit despite likely agreeing with him on the objective facts of Stardust draining the budget). This, however, has to be a line in the sand. And it harkens back to something Eli was pondering earlier, about where both his and Thrawn’s true loyalties were.

Hooray both Eli and Faro got a promotion. Thrawn is such a good boss.

Okay, but the ending. *deep breath* Here we go. This happens, I believe, pretty close to the ending of Rebels. Now, I’ve seen discussions where people believe Thrawn was neutered on Rebels, especially with the somewhat deus ex machina ending. I’m in the middle of a rewatch so I won’t comment further on that until I’ve gotten through it, but here’s my initial reading, just based on instinct. Sidious is planning to either eliminate Thrawn or use him to conquer the Chiss. Sidious doesn’t know about the Force-sensitive list Eli is creating, but if Sidious got to the Chiss, he’d get that list and it would be bad times for everyone. Thrawn is not as politically naive as he allows everyone to think, at least not with this. He’s been playing both sides to the middle for a long time now and between Sidious and the Grysks, he is going to be forced to choose. I just wonder how much of that plays into the ending on Rebels, how Thrawn deals with Lothal, and - given his penchant for acquiring certain non-Chiss for the Ascendancy - what his possible plan for Ezra may have been (especially given what we know about the Second and Third Sight). I won’t say much more until I finish my rewatch, but those questions are floating around my head.

To summarize: it was a delight seeing Thrawn with some of his people and knowing he’s a weirdo there, as well. Thrawn and Eli together is still the absolute best combination and I wish we had more of it. Ronan is an ass and I hate him. Ar’alani just needs a damn drink to deal with all of these fools, Thrawn most of all. I would say out of the three, the first novel is still my favorite, but this comes in a close second and I really hope we get a fourth novel at some point. 9/10

#hello there #thrawn treason #grand admiral thrawn #eli vanto #grand admiral savit #Karyn Faro #admiral ar'alani #brierly ronan #legobiwan listens to a book

78 notes · View notes

astroellipse · 3 years

Text

rambling time :)

Hmmm I realize now why Urianger is actually leaving the party at this point. It’s to force Thancred to actually do something concerning Minfilia. He’s served primarily as her emotional support up until now, with Thancred... idk he gave her a headpat a couple of times. His optional dialogue there was “I will talk to her. When the times is right.” You dumbass the time has been right for an eternity.

Oh and now we get death baited again. I was genuinely afraid the first time that they really killed Thancred. He seemingly had enough death flags for it, unlike with Y’shtola whose apparent death came from nowhere. God... and the hiding his very soul stuff... I wonder if that’ll make a return later. Certainly is convenient, not to mention dramatic. But man this really was bait, he just like, turns up fine later. Kinda dumb ngl.

Wtf I’m tearing up about Minfilia prime again... god...

Oh... OHHHH I understand what’s going on in this vision now! G’raha is reading Count Edmont’s book, and this roegadyn man is Bigg’s descendant... Huh, that’s funny. Two of the stories from Heavensward got muddled. A hero rides in astride a white dragon to save a little girl... The WoL riding into Ishgard on Midgardsormr, and Vidofnir saving the little girl. Fun detail.

?? Did Emet-Selch just SMILE at the WoL? His eyes crinkled. Do his eyes crinkle anywhere else??? Nobody else even saw that I think it might’ve been genuine, even if it’s just to see that the WoL hasn’t fallen apart yet. Like, he smiles in other places. There’s the mocking smiles, and the one last genuine but sad one near the end, but I can’t recall seeing one like that.

Ah. I think this is it. He’s explaining the Sundering.

I love this line and the delivery...

His logic makes sense. It IS relative, in this case. It of course doesn’t excuse the killing of millions and whatnot... it’s simply that the Ascians can’t accept things as they are now. A world without Zodiark is wrong. I wonder if they’d ever accept things as they are now if they weren’t tempered.

It’s silly that the game first explains the true nature of Ascians nowadays in some optional dialogue... the unsundered Ancients can raise fragments to become Ascians themselves, presumably anyone... though only fragments of the Convocation of Fourteen can rise to their respective office, through use of those... memory stones, or whatever they were. I’ll get back to that eventually.

Oh. You can also ask about Emet-Selch’s true name here, and there’s foreshadowing that you may one day learn... mannnnnnnnnn why do they have to kill him though??? The Hades fight is cool, though heart breaking. They bring back every other character, even Asahi to an extent for godsakes... The trailer, iirc, had a voice over from him so... maybe... maybe if we get more into the WoL being Azem... I dunno. I want to hope.

Ohhghhg I regret eating right before this bit with Vauthry downing... meol... ugghyhhh the noises this is awful I can feel my stomach turning :( That whole business... it’s not surprising the story moves past it quickly. Still funny though that they never outright acknowledge that all that was literally cannibalism.

Ah. AH!!!! There’s the line!!!!

So... he recognizes Azem even now. Huh. And what follows... he thinks the WoL would have liked it, Amaurot or however you spell it. He’s being... nice. Oh. That is... a sly proposition. He’s suggesting that the WoL just let things happen, that if they survive they’ll become whole. Of course Emet-Selch would want that, to have his friend back...

And now we come to the silliest plot point in the expansion. Really? Just make a giant Talos? Just like that? Even with an entire nation’s people working on it organizing everything and putting together the materials and all should take an eternity.

Duuuude I hate Mt. Gulg. Also this stupid audio effect they have on Vauthry, the echo is too much it hurts to try and understand what he’s saying, even with the text.

Ohhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy gooooooooooood G’raha’s deception is so bad but... it still hurts....... and Urianger... this is the most intense he sounds in the entire game... that “Do not interfere!”. G’raha!!!! You idiot!!!!! Gggghg. OH MY GOD THAT’S HIS RING HAND! HE’S REACHING TOWARDS HIM WITH THE HAND THAT BEARS HAURCHEFANT’S RING.... UNINTENTIONAL BUT GOOD!!!!!!! And finally his hood..... god.... I’m gonna cry again I can nbarely type./.... his inspiratyion...... and HIM EMET-SELCH!!!!!!!! GGGGGGGGGHGFHGH NO. THIS SUCKS SO BAD@!!!!

Ohhhhhh this story is evil. That it should be able to make you feel bad for disappointing Emet-Selch....... I mean it’s true. You weren’t strong enough, and others pay the price.

Seeing all of this... I wonder if Endwalker will attempt to top this level of relevance the WoL has. Suddenly... they are the existential threat. I mean again I suppose they could if they let the WoL take on Hydaelyn’s power as Zenos suggests. I do still hope that happens.

Ah... and again his ring hand to touch Ardbert..... cute... Hey wait why isn’t the WoL allowed to have any real heart to hearts with any of the Scions. Let them be friends :(

... ... wh. Why have they said the same thing? Emet-Selch says to the WoL before they depart, mocking how the world would react to the WoL’s affliction, “There is no hope. We are finished. Mankind is finished.” And. G’raha says this to Urianger once he arrives originally, to convey people’s reaction to the final calamity that befell the Source. I... suppose... Emet-Selch was watching? But that doesn’t make sense, they discuss other information here he doesn’t know. It’s just to draw a parallel, then? Oh. I see. G’raha then expounds on it and makes it something hopeful.

Oh also. It would have made infinitely more sense for it to have been one of Cid’s descendants to assist G’raha in traveling back in time. I can only assume that SE knows their fans well enough to know there would have been a crowd upset at what that implies with Cid, with how much they play around with the rivalry between him and Nero. Very funny thing to notice.

I can’t get out of my head what must have been the WoL’s original plan to reach Emet-Selch... take an Amaro over open water, then just dive in and swim around until the find him.

Ohhggh... I love Urianger his apology is so cute... he’ll stay by the WoL’s side for as along as he is able, if they’re willing to forgive or at least set aside their displeasure... even if they’re a danger to those around them...

Ohh and Alisaie!!!! This is why ShB is so good they actually CARE about the WoL it’s so nice... Oh right, and Urianger actually acknowledges their poorly thought out plan and thinks it’s silly. I don’t remember this from the first time, that swimming that far would probably make them die from exhaustion anyhow.

I saved this as a draft when my internet was being stupid hoping closing firefox would help. It did not. Anyways i came back to close this up and also note. I have been playing GNB terribly wrong for a while now. You’re granted a bonus damage ogcd after every move of your cartridge combo, not just the last one. I’m so stupid I thought it was like, an option of which one to use, but no. GNB is confusing, the combos are like... barely combos you can interrupt them to do whatever and return to them later. I’m looking at the optimal opener and i can feel my brain melting how the hell do I remember this??? I mean I don’t have to yet, I’m not at 80, but jfc. Idk if I’m ever gonna be able to raid like, properly lining up skills during battles sounds too difficult for me. I have a pea brain when actually fighting things case in point that one raid where it makes you do simple addition and division. It made me think 6+4 was 12. It’s hard enough for me as is to not let too many ogcds drift, at least not too bad...

Anyways. going to keep playing but I can wrap this up.

#mmorpg hell

1 note · View note

starkercrossedlovers · 5 years

Text

My Cup Runneth Over

Uhhhh so...the only excuse I have for this is that I read this stony fic and immediately thought of writing it as a Starker fic...and then decided it would be even better if it was a Steve/Tony/Peter fic. Enjoy the filth!

——————

“Fuck, look at you baby, all stretched out, you look so good,” Steve croons, breathing only slightly unevenly as he rolls his hips, grinding his cock deeper into Peter. His gaze flicks up to find Tony watching, leaning back against the headboard with one knee propped up so his forearm has somewhere to rest.

His olive skin is warm in the soft golden light of the sunset, the windows open to let in the summer air, cooling the sweat on his skin. Tony sips his whiskey and lifts a brow at him, smirking softly before leaning up slightly so Steve can bend over and kiss him. It’s soft and warm, the taste of honey on his lips and the bite of alcohol on his tongue.

Beneath him, Peter mewls for attention, drawing Steve’s gaze back down to where Peter’s hole is stretched around his cock. Tony had fucked him first, loosening him up for Steve and slicking the way with his cum, but Peter had still moaned and shook when Steve pressed in.

He fills his hands with the lush swells of Peter’s ass and spreads them, rolling his hips again so he can watch his cock driving in, dribbles of lube and cum sliding out each time he thrust.

“Look at that Tony, look how needy his hole is,” Steve rasps as Peter’s rim spasms around his cock, “god he’s so pretty,” he murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief as Peter moans and sobs beneath him. Tony nods and hums in agreement, reaching over to rub his thumb around Peter’s rim, stretched and hot and pink.

At the extra stimulation Peter sobs, hands ripping the sheets in his grasp. Both men know he’s overwhelmed, desperate to cum, but with a weighted cock ring on, pulling his balls down away from his body, there’s no chance of that before they’re ready for it to happen.

Besides that, Peter had asked for this—to be fucked over and over again until he was full of cum and his body was swollen with it. Tony knew he didn’t have the stamina to go enough times, and they’d done this in the past—had Steve in their bed, so he’d made the offer with Peter’s consent, and after planning and preparation, here they were.

Steve kept up his slow rolls, turning his attention to Tony. “That meeting with the UN next week, we should be prepared for pushback from the Germans.” Both men share a grin as Peter whimpers beneath him, desperate for attention as they talk, pointedly ignoring him.

“We’ve already asked T’Challa to show his support. With he and Nat at the helm, we should have the votes we need.”

Steve hums and nods in agreement, thumbs digging into the edges of Peter’s rim, pulling him open as he rises up and begins fucking him harder. His own orgasm has been held at bay for long enough that his cock has begun to ache and really, theres no need to hold back when Peter’s so desperate for it.

His mewls and tearful sobs are loud as Steve fucks into him, the sloppy sound of his cock slipping around in the mess of cum and lube filling the room. His thumbs bite into the tender skin of Peter’s rim, eliciting a full body shudder and a cracked wail as Peter thrashes beneath him, begging for release.

P-p-please! Ah! Ah! N-need...please!!

The clench of his soft insides around Steve’s cock is enough to have him cumming, groaning as he grinds his hips in, cock twitching and spilling deep inside Peter. Tony reaches out with a wry grin and pinches one of his nipples, the stimulation enough to have him cumming again, hips jerking as he fills the wet hot clasp of Peter’s hole.

He keeps up his slow rolling thrusts, grinding into Peter, staying hard despite the back to back orgasms. A blessing of the serum, one he’s put to good use with more than a few willing partners, and is especially handy now. He glances over and finds Tony is half hard, with a little more encouragement he’ll get there soon enough.

He slaps Peter’s ass gently and winks at Tony when the boy shudders and cries out, “Wanna tap in?” he offers, grinning when Peter moans and arches his hips, clearly happy with the idea.

Tony shakes his head and leans over to set aside his drink—the muscles in his torso tensing beautifully and Steve takes a moment to admire the physique of the older man. He’s not as thickly built as Steve, smaller and slimmer, but there’s power in those limbs—Steve’s witnessed it when he’s in the lab while Tony builds welds and hammers his latest creation into shape.

The other man shuffles over and gently turns Peter’s head so he can lean down and kiss him, a soft noise of pleasure in his throat as Peter moans into the embrace—clumsy and wet and perfect. Tony pets his hair and pulls back, “How you doin baby?” he asks quietly, “need a break?”

Peter shivers and shakes his head weakly, eyes hooded and face lax with pleasure as Steve continues fucking him. “Mmmm...good...promise,” he slurs, voice hoarse from moaning. Tony nods but slips away for a moment before coming back with a water bottle, carefully guiding the cool liquid between swollen and wet lips so he doesn’t choke.

Peter drinks half the bottle before Tony makes him eat a specially designed protein bar and gently encourages him to finish the rest of the water. When it’s gone he sets it aside, cupping Peter’s neck with one hand as the other rests at the base of his spine, rubbing soothing circles into his skin with his thumbs.

Peter’s eyes flutter shut as Tony caresses him, a little calmer now as Steve keeps his thrusts slow and deep. “Good boy, you’re doing so well sweetheart,” Tony croons, leaning in to press a kiss to Peter’s sweaty temple. Peter hums and arches into the touches, smiling and gazing up at Tony in adoration.

The love between them makes Steve’s stomach clench—he’d had that before, with Bucky, and Peggy, but the love he and Bucky share now is that of friendship, nothing more.

Peter reaches out slowly as slides a hand up Tony’s thigh, fingers brushing weakly at his cock, “Can I have it?” he asks, pleading quietly. Tony nods and brushes his fingers through his hair, shuffling forward so he can guide his cock between Peter’s spit slick lips.

The boy hums and closes his eyes, content to let Tony thrust slowly, using his mouth to get hard. The counterpoints of pleasure fill him with heat, the warmth expanding under his skin till he feels like he’s glowing with it, content to be filled and given every ounce of pleasure he can stand.

When Tony is hard he slows his thrust and lets his cock lay in Peter’s mouth as Steve thrusts harder, chasing release again. Praise falls liberally from his lips as Peter moans and rocks back against him. “Good boy Peter, you’re so good. Look how you open up for me, all loose and soft. God, I oughta take a picture and frame it on the wall it’s so pretty.”

Peter moans louder, cheeks flushing at the idea, pleasure curling in his gut at the idea of being on display where anyone could see. Tony grins and strokes his hair, “You want that baby? Wanna have everyone see the work of art your hole is?”

Whimpering, Peter nods, moaning around Tony’s cock. Steve groans at the idea too and thrusts harder, the squelch of cum and lube loud as he slams into Peter, hands tight around his hips. A near constant moan vibrates out of Peter as Steve fucks him, hips arching so he slides deeper, the clench of his body sending Steve spiraling into release.

“Ohhhh fuck...oh god...Peter...”

Steve groans as he slips out slowly, the wet sucking noise making his gut clench—moremoremore—his body demands. Peter whimpers at yet another lost chance for orgasm, hole spasming around nothing as cum and lube slip out slowly.

Tony’s cock slips from between his lips with a slick pop and Peter gasps, cheeks pink and lashes wet, spit and cum staining his lips. Steve pushes the mess back inside Peter, fingers rubbing along his rim and pressing against his tender insides. Shuddering, Peter moans and arches into his touch, hitching breaths loud and wet.

“Look at you sweetheart, all loose and soft. You’re a mess baby, all filled up with cum.” Steve runs a soothing hand over his lithe, muscular thigh, “You wanna cum baby?” he offers, surprised when Peter makes an objecting noise and shakes his head.

“Want more...” Peter moans, lashes fluttering as he looks up dazedly at Tony, “want you to fill me up,” he whispers roughly, swallowing hard. “Wanna be so full it fills up my belly.”

Tony curses and fists his cock, a sentiment Steve understands as his own cock gives an interested twitch. He’s a little amazed by Peter’s stamina—they’ve been at this nearly an hour, and his demand isn’t to cum, but for them to keep using him, filling him.

“Shit, okay baby, hold on. I’ll get you nice and full,” Tony promises, leaning down to kiss Peter’s lax lips, the younger man humming in pleasure at the gentle embrace before Tony pulls away and switches places with Steve.

“Get more water and protein bars,” he urges Steve, “you both need em.”

Steve nods and grabs his sweats and T-shirt before hustling out of the room and hurrying to the kitchen. The others are away—out for dinner, with family, vacation—it’s a rare moment of silence in the compound and it’s one he and Tony are making good use of.

He gathers water bottles and electrolyte drinks, protein bars and some chocolate, putting in an order for pizza while he’s at it so they can eat properly after. He doesn’t know how long this will go so he makes a note to have he or Tony send a message when they’re cleaning up after so the pizza is hot and ready and at their door.

Tony has Peter up on his knees, face pressed to the side against the mattress as Tony curls over him, hips rolling slow and deep so his cock drags against Peter’s prostate over and over again, crooning praise in his ear.

Steve sets up the supplies on the side table and strips again, half hard already, leaning back against the head board to watch. Peter’s lashes are wet and his lips are parted around moans, drooling into the sheets as Tony takes him apart slowly.

“You’re so good baby, so good for me, letting me fill you up,” Tony murmurs, hands firm on Peter’s hips, “I love you so much baby.” Peter hitches out a sob and Tony bends further to kiss him as Peter whimpers and whispers back a slurred I love you.

When he pulls back, there’s an intense look of concentration on his face as he thrusts harder, face twisting in pleasure as Peter sobs and rocks back against him, the wet sound of Tony’s cock inside him embarrassingly arousing. He hides his face in the sheets, gasping and moaning as he thrusts back, shuddering at the sensation of something slick sliding down his thigh.

With a shaky hand he presses against his stomach, feeling Tony inside him, the wet heat of he and Steve’s cum sloshing around noisily. He’d been so scared to ask for this, but he knew already that Tony liked to fuck him and then plug him so his cum would stay inside, he’d figured this was just asking for...more.

More cum, more proof that he’s Tony’s, more pleasure with each release he’s denied, knowing how intense it will be at the end.

Tony’s thrusting harder now, the weight of him hard and reassuring inside him, the pain/pleasure barrier gone now that his system is so overloaded. If he’s normally dialed to eleven, he’s gotta be somewhere around 100 now.

Every touch feels like a brand on his skin; searing hot and blindingly good. It feels like pain when Tony caresses his cock, pleasure when he bites his neck, agony and ecstasy when he cums, the heat of it sending shudders over his body. Cool sweat slicks his skin and he’s panting hard as Tony keeps rocking into him, his cock softening slightly.

“Oh Peter, baby, love you, love you so much,” Tony whispers in his ear, “love being inside you.”

Peter hums and leans into him, smiling dazedly as Tony wraps his arms around him and pulls him up slightly before rolling them down and to the side. His knees tuck behind Peter’s and he rolls his hips slowly, pressing kisses to his sweaty neck, whispering soft declarations of love.

There’s a crinkling noise and then Steve is in front of him with a bottle of water, encouraging him to drink, then eat a protein bar, large hand petting over his hair as his crystal blue eyes gaze fondly down at him. Tony’s stilled inside him, both of them breathing unevenly, but unwilling to move apart. Steve gives water and half a protein bar to him as well, smirking at the nose wrinkle Tony gives him at the taste of the bar.

“Just rest baby,” Tony murmurs, kissing Peter’s throat softly, “rest.” Peter nods and closes his eyes, snuggling back into Tony, hole clenching around his cock for a few moments before his body goes lax, soft snores filling the air. Tony grins tiredly at Steve, “I’ve got maybe one or two more in me, but he asked if we could both be inside him for the last one, you okay with that?”

Steve stares at him wide eyed, “Are you okay with that?” he replies—it’s one thing for them to take turns filling Pete up the way he’s asked, entirely another to fuck him at the same time. “Can he even take us both?” He asks suddenly, worry filling him at the idea that he—they—could hurt someone as sweet as Peter.

Tony gives a small shrug, “It’s what he wants. I try to give him what he wants, and he does the same for me. As to whether he can take it...” Tony pauses and then nods slowly, “I think so. We’ll go slow and if he can’t, we just take turns like before.”

Steve nods in agreement, still worried. He watches as Tony presses his face to Peter’s neck and inhales, eyes falling shut. Deciding to give them space, he rises and steps out onto the balcony, watching the sun slip lower in the sky. This isn’t what he thought his life would be, that’s for sure, but—he glances over his shoulder at where Tony and Peter rest together and smiles—it’s certainly a good place to be.

Time slips by and the tight clench of Peter around his cock teases him back to full hardness. His hips rock slowly forward, tiny movements that make his breath catch, heat building in the cradle of his hips. Peter rouses slowly and Tony reaches around to feel cock—sympathy making his heart ache at the hot swollen skin in his hands.

He keeps his thrusts slow, a hand on Peter’s hip rolling him back into the movements, sweat slick between them as he crests, slow and sweet like molasses. Gently he rolls Peter to his stomach so none of the cum slides out, soothing him when he whimpers at the touch of the sheets on his cock.

Stroking his cock to try and keep it hard, he calls for Steve, rubbing circles into Peter’s back as the other man approaches. “Baby, Steve agreed, you still want us both?” he asks, smiling when Peter lets out a cracked moan and shifts against the sheets.

“Okay baby, just hold on,” he encourages before turning to Steve. He nods, pleased when he sees Steve is already hard. “You get in first. He’s loose, but it’s still going to take some time to get him looser and I’ll need it.”

Steve nods and climbs up behind Peter, grabbing lube to slick his cock before he slides in, cum squelching out around his cock as he does. Peter shivers and moans at the sound, arching back so Steve slides deeper, both of them moaning now.

Steve slides his hands to Peter’s hips, pressing one flat against his stomach with a pleased sound, “You’re starting to show sweetheart, look, all stretched out from cum filling your belly up.” He feels it when Peter slides a hand down so he too can feel the gentle swell of his stomach, shuddering and moaning as he realizes how full he is already.

Tony strokes his cock, watching as Steve fucks the boy in deep, long strokes. Peter arches into the thrusts, breath sobbing with each roll of the super soldier’s hips. He watches as his boy falls apart, tears rolling down his face, sobbing and begging incoherently. Steve works two fingers in alongside his cock, stretching his rim, a warbling cry of delight coming from Peter as he shivers.

Passing Steve the lube, he kneels beside them, unable to keep himself from slipping his own fingers in and tugging gently. There’s a wet sucking sound as Steve’s cock pushes in and out, louder when he applies more lube to Peter’s hole, the sound lewd alongside Peter’s tears and pleas for more.

Steve curses as his cock slides against their fingers, cum and lube spilling out with each thrust. Tugging on his hip, Steve guides Peter to his knees and gently pushes his face down into the mattress, turned to the side so he can breathe, cry and moan freely.

“You ready baby?” Tony croons, stroking his cock slowly. Peter whines and rocks back, a garbled acquiescence coming from his throat as he cries, overstimulated and down deep in subspace. “Okay sweetheart, take deep breaths for me okay?” He rubs a hand gently over Peter’s back, murmuring encouragement as his boy takes deep, shaky breaths.

Steve shuffles to the side and then stills, buried deep inside Peter as he waits for Tony to align himself. Their fingers pull at the edges of his rim, keeping him open as much as possible to ease the way. Tony’s breath catches as his cock nudges against the loose edge of Peter’s rim, gut clenching when it flutters weakly.

“Shhh baby,” he whispers when Peter whines, “just breathe.”

Peter rolls his head in a nod and tries, tries so hard to keep breathing, even as sensation threatens to tear him apart. His fingers shred the sheets as he pants and drools, whining like a puppy as Tony’s cock catches on his rim and then pushes past.

Eyes rolling back in his head he gasps, throat dry as he tries to make a sound, but he can’t even breathe let alone moan. He’s so full, bursting at the seams and Tony isn’t even halfway in yet. Dizzily he wonders if he’ll break apart with both cocks inside him, if he’ll just go fuck stupid from the pleasure and be forever ruined.

It’s an appealing thought.

He feels more lube being squirted inside him alongside Tony’s cock, cool and soothing for the aching burn of his soft bruised insides. He’s so full, stretched and wet and used...and it’s perfect.

It’s everything he wanted and more.

When Tony pushes in the rest of the way everything goes white; pain and pleasure blinding him. His cock throbs and pulses, the sensation of orgasm washing over him even as he’s denied actual release by the cock ring.

Noise filters back in slowly; great heaving gasps and high whines, the squelch of his hole as Tony and Steve shift.

Too much, it’s all too much.

He needs more.

“M-m-more,” he wails, sobbing as Tony and then Steve start rocking in alternating rhythms so he’s never empty and being stretched even further with each thrust.

Tears stream down his face—perfect, it’s perfect and he’s going to die, utterly consumed by pleasure, burning up from the inside out. He can’t control the sounds he makes, drooling and crying and beyond coherence as he’s fucked full.

He hears Tony’s gravelly voice urging him on, praising him, distant and echoey, soft words sinking into his skin and warming him. Steve’s hands caress him as he groans and rocks his hips, bruises forming where his touch is, shivers running over his skin at the idea that he’ll wear these marks alongside the belly full of cum, branding him as the needy slut he is.

There’s a quiet discussion he mostly misses—

—close

—yea

—off

And then there’s fingers at his balls and the ring is popped off, the weight pulling them down gone, and he sobs as he cums, unable to hold it back at all. His voice cracks around the scream he wails out as Tony and Steve thrust harder, the clench of his hole weak as his body thrashes and shivers.

There’s two loud groans and cries of his name and then he’s being filled, cum spreading inside him so deep he can feel it in his chest. Mouth gaping, he shakes and gasps wetly, limbs trembling with the urge to collapse. When his knees feel like giving out and he sways, a strong arm bands around his hips, holding him in place.

Gentle hands rub into his back as Tony pulls out, the wet squelching of his loose sloppy hole making his cheeks burn. He gasps for air, head light as he’s held in place, shivering and moaning softly. Steve pulls out slowly and a rush of hot messy slick pulses out behind him.

There’s a quiet discussion and then something solid and heavy is at his rim and he whines, edges away from the sensation and a hand on his neck stills him.

“Shh sweetheart, just gonna plug you up so you stay nice and full, that’s all,” Tony whispers, leaning in to pepper kisses across his back, “can you hold still for me? Hmm?”

And yea, he can do that, he can be good for Tony, especially after how good he’s taken care of him and given him what he’s asked for. So he holds still, limp and exhausted in Steve’s arms, whining and shifting as the plug slides in. It’s bigger than they’ve used in the past and he thinks that if they hadn’t fucked out his hole, it would be too big for him normally.

It settles and his rim closes around it, a deep sigh shuddering out of him at the sensation. Those strong arms don’t let him go, instead he’s lifted and carried into the bathroom, set gently into a lap, the sound of running water reaching him distantly.

He smells the familiar scent of Tony’s skin, the salt of sweat and bitter tang of cum blending with the remnants of his cologne for a musk that makes him hum and nuzzle into his neck. Tony laughs softly and pets his hair, hand making soothing circles over his spine till he’s half asleep.

He doesn’t protest when Tony shifts them into the tub, the water warm and gentle on his skin. He realizes he’s sore slowly, the ache in his thighs from kneeling, a tremor in his arms from holding himself up, dull heat in his cock and strain in his balls, but mostly it’s the way his rim feels strained and his insides feel bruised that he feels the most.

It hurts, but it’s a good hurt—liking digging a finger into a bruise.

Tony’s gentle as he washes him, cleaning cum and lube and sweat from his skin till he smells like amber and vetiver, skin soft and warm. Kisses are pressed along his neck and distantly he’s aware of Tony murmuring sweet things to him, but he’s too fucked out and exhausted to try and form a response.

He loses time a little—somehow he’s in bed with clean fresh sheets around him, and he’s reclining against Tony and the scent of hot cheese and sauce is enough to perk him up. He grins sleepily at Steve as he hands him a box, taking one for himself as he leans against the headboard beside them.

Tony turns on the tv and stops at a rerun of Back to The Future, a movie they’ve all seen before but still enjoy.

Lips press against his temple and Tony whispers I love you softly, just for them, and it curls into him, warming from the inside out. He tilts his chin and kisses Tony’s jaw, I love you too he replies.

He smiles softly at Steve and thanks him quietly, slipping a hand down to curl against the swell of his stomach where he’s filled with cum. The plug holds it all in and he hums in contentment, snuggling deeper into Tony’s arms as sleep comes for him.

He has everything he needs here; love and comfort, people who love him, a home...and he smiles, thinking fuzzily of a bible verse he heard once; my cup runneth over, and he huffs out a weak laugh at the silly double entendre—ass full of cum is hardly the notion the deciples had in mind when writing the verse in psalms.

He decides he’ll share the joke with Tony when he wakes up, already smiling as he falls asleep, picturing the way Tony’s head will fall back as he laughs, bright and loud and utterly beautiful.

————————

Uhhhh hey...so...I hope you enjoyed this, welcome to the filthy depths of my depraved mind lol 😂 who doesn’t love a little threesome action?? Certainly not Peter 😉

@sluttystarker @starkerchemistryy @pantastic-peach @thebadthingshappen @ciel-mio @hpspazz @starker-4ever @w1nters-stark @foof-a-loof @confused-trash-kitten @panicdotexe @stqrker @honey-honey-darling @mariketa12 @itsmeryshipper @dramione90 @starker-flame @pretzelpoetry @seriouslystarker @starkerthanreality @ikneelbeforemygod @professional-fangirl75 @virgilismypoorshadowling @godlovesstarker @sapphicfreak @veronicashipsit @the-dark-obsidian-princess @ikneelbeforemygod @laughing-oreo @sensei-sans-sugoi @ruelukas22 @tom-starker @yourlittlemelody @sbiderslut

#starker #starcrossedtalks #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #nff #tony stark #peter parker

427 notes · View notes

kingfisherunion · 6 years

Text

After the Cup of China - Chapter 4

Read on Ao3

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)

Relationships:

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov

Characters:

Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri

Christophe Giacometti

Phichit Chulanont

Additional Tags:

Fluff and Smut

Eros Katsuki Yuuri

Blow Jobs

Hand Jobs

Anal Fingering

First Time Blow Jobs

First Time

First Kiss

Sexual Tension

Tension

Fingerfucking

Edgeplay

Teasing

NSFW

Language: English

Series: Part 1 of the Filling in the Gaps series

Yuuri was still breathing in long, shuddering gasps. Knelt nest to him on the bed, hands resting lightly on his hips, Viktor watched with relish as the Japanese skater pressed both palms into his forehead. He moaned a little, quivering moan and curled up on his side. It was adorable. He was so adorable. He could watch the boy’s ecstatic repose for hours.

But momentarily Yuuri stirred, and, propped on one elbow, traced his fingertips up Viktor’s pale thigh. Goosebumps. Without uttering a word he gazed up into blue eyes like two drops of clear, blue ocean. The older man looked on, rapt.

Yuuri had, for years, imagined this moment. Viktor protruded expectantly in front of his face. He admired it for a few moments, unashamed to let himself take in what had up until now been the thing of his dreams. He slid his hand slowly down its length, then fingered curiously at the tip. The soft skin was slightly sticky and seemed to jump in response to his touch.

He couldn’t believe he was about to taste Viktor’s cock.

He licked his lips and slowly, not willing to miss a moment, moved them down Viktor’s shaft, tonguing the head gently. A guttural response escaped Viktor’s throat. Yuuri like that he could elicit such an involuntary reaction. He wanted to hear even more of those vulnerable sounds from his idol. He tried to take everything the way Viktor had done with him, but choked. Viktor cradled his head in his hands as he sputtered and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Don’t try too hard, zolotse,” he murmured. Yuuri scoffed, but as he looked up he saw in his coach’s face nothing short of pure love. The Russian beamed down at him.

Yuuri felt his self-conscious slip away and he began to really enjoy exploring every inch of this smooth, soft, inviting flesh. He tested and teased with his fingers, and then with his tongue. He finally felt adventurous after the first real gag and took Viktor deeper and deeper with each thrust. Pretty soon he didn’t feel like he needed his hand to support him anymore and decided to explore further. He stopped his licking and slupring for a moment and rested his cheek on Viktor’s hip as he crept his saliva-soaked fingers back between his thighs.

Viktor clenched, then relaxed as Yuuri gently parted his buttocks. He pressed his lips greedily into his hip.

Viktor’s legs turned to jelly as a curious, wet finger found its way to his asshole. His breathing was shallow and heady and he tried to verbalize some sort of affirmation – this was amazing – but whatever came out was far from language. He could barely think.

Yuuri hungrily resumed his oral worship, all the while teasing with his fingertip. It felt tight; the gentle pressure it offered as he prodded was incredibly gratifying. So he teased a little deeper.

“Yuuri,” Viktor panted, steadying himself on the wall. “Yuuri, be caref- ohhhh!”

Yuuri had coaxed his middle finger in to the first knuckle. He licked, open-mouthed, at Viktor’s front, letting the drool drip down his chin, up and down the entire length, only to swallow it again a moment later.

Viktor’s breathing was becoming more and more audible, a low, throaty rumble. His jaw hung slack and his eyes, adoring and warm before, were hooded and unfocused. Yuuri’s probing finger was dizzying.

“Yes, Yuuri, that’s very good, Yuuri, that’s perfect,” he growled. As Viktor got used to him, Yuuri prodded a little more assertively, wriggling and thrusting greedily. The hand that was not now anchoring Viktor to the wall drifted to his hair, entangled themselves, gripping tightly. Even with the architectural support, he seemed unsteady, hips jutting out, back arched, head lolled forward. His teeth dug into his lower lip.

Yuuri was in a rhythm. Thrusting his finger into Viktor all the way to the knuckle was causing the latter’s slender hips to rock back and forth in synchronicity with Yuuri’s lips, which plunged over and over again along Viktor’s length.

“Yuuri, I… hng!!!” A wave of sensation interrupted Viktor’s words and his thoughts. However, Yuuri did not need words to communicate Viktor’s present status. As the Russian’s whole body quivered, cheeks and shoulders a soft, shiny, pink, gleaming with sweat, he began to swell dramatically. His buttocks clenched tight over Yuuri’s hand. “I’m… hah… oh!”

Warm fluid flooded into Yuuri’s mouth, thick and bitter. He gulped it down with immense satisfaction as Viktor collapsed onto the bed beside him. He cradled his slender body close and pushed back the silver hair plastered to his forehead. They lay in silence as Viktor’s heartbeat and breathing gradually slowed. The sun cascaded down over their intertwined bodies, casting a warm glow over everything.

When Viktor finally opened his eyes, they sparkled in the light. They met Yuuri’s and the two lingered there for a long while, wearing stupefied grins and kissing each other’s faces wherever their lips could reach. They gazed at one another as if with new sight, faces lit with wonder at this position they had somehow never found themselves in before now.

How could they look away now?

“I feel like I should… Let me…” For the first time since Yuuri had known him, Viktor was stumbling over his words. “Um? Here…” Without breaking eye contact he fumbled around with Yuuri’s body, indicating his desire to keep having sex. “I don’t want to be unfair,” he mumbled as his hand found its mark.

Yuuri was still feeling a bit sensitive. So much so that at first, Viktor’s touch actually tickled. He let out an involuntary giggle. Then Viktor giggled. Then they both were giggling, rolling around in their tangle of lanky limbs and silly kisses. What had moments before been a sultry, lust-drenched tryst was now a snuggly, loving exchange. Viktor tended to Yuuri’s arousal with great care, caressing his body as he went, whispering sweet adorations between deep kisses. He savored to soft moments when Yuuri’s bliss showed through in his face and even backed off a few times to draw out the experience.

When the Japanese skater could hold back no longer and came with a delicate, shuddering sigh, Viktor scooped him up into a deep embrace.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, “let’s go get lunch.”

2 notes · View notes

ununniliad · 7 years

Text

Smash Comics! Featuring Corporation-Smasher #2

The coffee tasted different lately. Since he got that new coffeemaker. It was sweeter, more syrupy. He hadn't noticed at first, but his head got light when he drank it, and he wanted to drink more.

His head was very light now. There were five empty mugs on the kitchen floor in front of him, lined up like the points of a star. Coffee grounds had been used to make the lines of that star, and to draw a circle around it. His phone lay in the center of the star, on the line with customer support, who spoke in hissing, incoherent whispers. When the coffeemaker had stopped working and he had called in a dazed panic, they had told him what he needed to do.

He held his hand above the phone, palm perpendicular to the circle. In his other hand, he held a kitchen knife. He brought the tip of the knife toward his palm...

SKRAMM! His back door splintered, and a figure leapt thru - a black woman in her forties, resplendent in a red bodysuit with a gold belt and a gold hooded cloak. She had a great golden hammer in her hand, and an image of a hammer on her chest.

He looked up in a daze, eyes unfocused.

"Consumer product of greed and darkness, by the hammer of Corporation-Smasher, begone!" She brought her hammer down, and the phone smashed into a thousand pieces. The whispering rose into a frustrated wail, then cut off all at once.

He rocked back, the strings that had been holding him up cut. He grabbed his head in both hands; he had a killer headache. "What... what the..."

She knelt down. "Hey. What's your name?"

He tried to focus. He couldn't remember for a moment, then: "Bill. William. William Jensen."

"Good man." She clapped him on the back. "You'll be all right. But this isn't over yet. Don't touch the circle."

Bill glanced over; despite the phone being reduced to tiny shards, none of it had interrupted the pattern of coffee grounds. He looked down, and was relieved to be wearing pants.

Corporation-Smasher stepped carefully through the kitchen, eyes flicking back and forth. She spotted the coffeemaker, leaned in for a look, and shook her head. "Azrelion. I knew it." She held her hammer over the coffeemaker, and with her other hand, she grabbed the plug between thumb and forefinger and pulled it out.

"That sounds familiar." Bill scooted away from the circle, grabbing a stool and lifting himself to his feet.

"It should. You own stock in the company." She put the hammer on the counter, grabbed the coffeemaker and carried it back to the circle. Kneeling down, she picked phone shards out of the center, and put the coffeemaker in their place.

"Oh. Um... should you be touching a possessed coffeemaker?" He leaned against the counter, misjudging and knocking over a stack of old mail.

"The demons aren't in the coffeemaker. They're in the network." She stepped away, lifting the hammer and examining her handiwork. "Internet of Things. Horrible eldritch things, in this case."

"Oh. ...how'd you know I own stock in Azrelion?"

"The demons are linked to the company. They sought one who held shares, the power of the company, to summon them." She picked up one of the pieces of mail - a thick, unopened white envelope with the Azrelion logo stamped on it, along with the words 'Important Shareholder Information Inside'. "Also this." She tossed it to him.

He caught it. "Ah... but... I don't have any real power."

"You do." She looked him in the eyes, and he felt shame. "And you could have played a part in preventing this."

"H-- how?"

"Not too long ago, there was a man, Virgil Vexilamus, who ran a company. That company's products were indicted in horrible accidents. It was rumored that Vexilamus had something to do with it; that they weren't accidents at all, but sacrifices to some greater goal. But he was officially cleared of all charges." Corporation-Smasher sighed, leaning back on the counter. "The board of directors of Azrelion decided that, based on how much money his company had pulled in before it tanked, that Virgil Vexilamus would make an excellent CEO. But, since there was a cloud of rumor over him, they had a shareholder vote to approve his hiring." She gestured to the envelope. "Thus."

"Oh..." Bill crushed the envelope to his chest. "I... I inherited those stocks, I never really thought about them..."

"Very few think about the privileges they've inherited."

Bill flinched. "Ah... is there anything I can do about it now?"

Corporation-Smasher smiled. "Always. In this case, the power you have is power we'll need..."

Twenty minutes later, Bill knelt on one side of the circle. Corporation-Smasher sat on the other. The things they needed were laid around the edges of the circle. They were ready.

Bill looked at the piece of paper he'd written down the instructions on. "Hokay..." He took a deep breath, let it out. He picked up a small portable battery pack. Leaning carefully over the coffee circle, he placed it next to the coffeemaker and plugged it in. The little amber indicator came on. He sat back, outside of the circle, looked at the paper, and said, "Antelune! By light I call you!"

Bill picked up a filter full of coffee grounds. He leaned in, opening the top of the coffeemaker and placing the filter and grounds inside. He closed it up, sat back, and said, "Antelune! By soil I call you!"

Bill picked up the knife. He looked up into Corporation-Smasher's eyes, and she nodded. He licked his lips. He leaned in and opened the carafe. He held his hand over it, palm perpendicular to the circle. He brought the tip of his knife to his palm, and pressed it in-- ah! It wasn't quite as sharp as he'd hoped, but it did the trick. Blood welled up, and dripped into the carafe; and it hissed. He quickly sat back, cleared his throat, and said, "Antelune! By blood I call you!"

The hissing picked up, acquired deeper dimensions, unsettling whispers, as the carafe heated up. Bill picked up a small glass of clear liquid, but Corporation-Smasher held up her hand. Her eyes were intent as the carafe hissed, the whispers became clearer, shadows swirled in the pot and glistening eyes opened...

"NOW!" she shouted. Bill leaned forward with careful haste and poured the glass of holy water into the carafe and slammed the lid on and leaned away. Immediately it screamed in a voice of steam, the glittering eyes going wide and white mist streaming from the coffeemaker.

Corporation-Smasher stood, raising her hammer high. "By the lives of the people and the light they carry! Antelune! I banish you!" She brought the hammer down, and the coffeemaker smashed into a thousand pieces, and a wave of midnight-black coffee rolled out of it, washing away the circle of grounds.

"Ack!" Bill leapt to his feet, coffee all over his pants.

Corporation-Smasher chuckled. "Don't worry, it's harmless. Banishing demons is an endothermic process." And indeed, the liquid was chilly and the brown stain was disappearing.

"Whew..." Bill sagged. "So, it's over?"

"You shouldn't be troubled by demons again, though I'd recommend a different brand of coffeemaker." Corporation-Smasher hefted her hammer. "I must trace this evil to its source. And, needless to say, smash it."

Bill nodded. "Um, so... now that I know I have some power, how should I use it?"

Corporation-Smasher smiled. "Engage! Be part of things!" She gestured grandly, her voice raising in enthusiasm. "You have more power than you know - not just in this, but in all aspects of life. Speak up for the right thing! When there's a chance to help, take it! And!" She put her finger in the air. "Always, always, always take the opportunity to empower others who lack it! The more we spread it around, the better we'll be."

"Ohhhh..." Bill stood up straight. "I will!"

"Good man!" Corporation-Smasher put her hammer over her shoulder. "Take care!" She walked out the remains of the door and was gone.

Bill sighed, smiling. He looked around. "Right!" He pounded his fist into his hand. "First, call a repairman! Then, get a mop!" Time to take care of things!

For more Legion of Net.Heroes, check out rec.arts.comics.creative! Here’s my Patreon! Thanks for reading!

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Urban Fantasy #Social Justice #Legion of Net.Heroes #LNH20 #Smash Comics!

9 notes · View notes

audreysl0ve · 7 years

Text

Day 4 DOQ Week: Bandit!Regina DOQ

A/N: I couldn’t think of anything fun for this day, so I set it in the Heroes & Villains verse because who doesn’t love Bandit!Regina? Thanks as always to @repellomuggletum15 for the beta!

Regina steels herself and opens the heavy door to the tavern, preparing for the worst.

This place is off the beaten road, unlikely to draw in the Queen’s guards and spies, and thus it’s become sort of a safe haven for runaways and criminals. Regina is both these things, and cannot afford to eat and drink and warm herself at the safer, more well lit places near town. So when she has a bit of coin, and when her clothes are soaked to the bone, she wanders in for a pint of ale and some of the warmth of the fire.

She’s one of the few women who frequent the tavern while they are off the clock. There are working women there, bar maids and harlots alike. But women customers? And single ones at that?

She stands out, so she tries to avoid going to the tavern at this late hour, except when it’s necessary. And it’s necessary now, as it’s pouring down rain, and she desperately needs some shelter, and some heat.

She’s readied herself for the hoots and whistles she’s grown accustomed to every time she steps inside the rowdy bar. But this time, there’s not a single sound to be made.

She looks around, puzzled. She should be relieved, is relieved, to finally not have a captive audience watching her every movement.

“You’re not the only act in town, sister.” The bitter dwarf scoffs at her, rolling his eyes at her as she makes her way up to the bar. And then she looks around to see exactly what that idiot had been referring to.

The eyes of the entire tavern are on the woman with the wavy blonde hair in the corner.

Regina takes a moment to admire her.

She’s wearing a dress, still, but it’s soiled and damp. Her hair is tangled and untamed, with bits of leaves stuck in some of the strands. It has probably been awhile since she’s had a real place to sleep.

“That’s Maleficent,” Granny says, handing Regina a pint. “The Maleficent. God knows how she got all the way over here. The girl’s wanted dead or alive by Queen Aurora. Between you and her, I’m making enemies with two of the most powerful sorcerers in the land. The queens will probably have a showdown right here and burn the place. So thanks for that.” The old lady frowns. She talks a big game, but Regina knows Granny worries about her, about almost all her customers. When she had nothing, Granny dropped her a key and told her to keep warm for the night, on the house. She justified it of course, by saying that if Regina died, she’d lose a loyal customer. She was only investing in the girl, hoping to get many years of drinks out of her.

The next time she handed her a room key, Granny said it was because she had become an attraction of sorts at the tavern, and if Regina died she’d lose a “free show”.

So yes, the woman cares. And it shows, in the way she looks at her, with that glimmer of worry. “You should talk to her. Give her some tips for the bandit life. She’s holding her own quite well here, but I’m not sure how she’s lasted this long. She does not look well.”

Granny hands Regina a key without a word as to who it’s for or why she’s giving it to her. She thinks she’s supposed to give it to Maleficent. But hell, it’s pouring down rain and she is cold and tired of the forest floor. She’ll keep the room herself unless it’s taken away from her.

Regina makes her way to an open seat. She glances at the men congregating around Maleficent and rolls her eyes. The woman is doing well though, batting away hands, her face screwed into a glare so deadly that Regina can feel them from over here.

She’ll have to learn how to make that face, because it seems to be working.

“She’s worse than the ice queen over here,” grimaces one of the bar’s regulars, pointing in Regina’s direction.

“I’ve always wanted to meet an ice queen,” Maleficent drawls, motioning for Regina to sit next to her. “Come here little one, let’s be frosty together.”

Regina likes to keep to herself, to find a place as close to a fire as possible and sit while her wet clothes warm and dry. But she finds this woman so intriguing, she wants to talk to her. And not out of some obligation with Granny, either.

So she grabs her mug of ale and moves to her table, sitting where a disgruntled drunk has just left, cursing about Maleficent being some sort of tease.

“You must be Regina,” Maleficent says, holding out her hand. “I’m Maleficent. Though I’m sure you know that.”

Regina nods. “I’ve heard of you… but Stephan’s… I mean Aurora’s kingdom is far from here—”

“Yes, well…” Maleficent looks down at her soiled dress and sighs. “I was doing just fine. I had made quite a life for myself in the neighboring kingdom. But then… Aurora employed the use of fairies.” She wrinkles her nose. “Rather unpleasant creatures. They put a locator spell on me and found me an instant. I escaped from the dungeon knowing it was only a matter of time before I was caught, unless I ran far. Even here… I’m not sure…”

She looks around, making sure none of the men are currently looking at her. Thankfully nearly all of them have their eyes focused on a newly erupted bar fight on the opposite end of the room. “I traded nearly everything I had for this. She grabs at the necklace she is wearing, to free the pendant that is currently hidden in her cleavage.

It glows bright green.

“Pixie dust?” Regina asks.

“Anti-pixie dust. Fairy repellant. Makes me invisible to the little blood suckers.” She puts the vial away, safely sandwiched between her perfect breasts.

“Of course, this means I have to start over. I stole this from a clumsy merchant,” she looks at her dress grimacing. “It’s not my style. but it was better than the burlap sack I was wearing before. The sea witch needed the clothes off my back to make this.”

“Ursula gave you this?” Regina asks incredulously. She has always been fascinated by Ursula, so many myths about her. She admires the woman, so resilient after the entire sea has been set against destroying her.

Maleficent nods. And then she leans over to a nearby drunk’s messenger bag and scoops up an apple. She grabs a knife from somewhere (perhaps it was in her boot) and starts to cut it into slices.

“I’ve been on the lamb for years, little bandit. I keep my ears and eyes open. I’ve had plenty of time to build favors and make connections. Unfortunately I had to call in every last one to get to this. But it’s been two weeks and there’s not a fairy in sight, so I’ll take it.”

“I heard you were a fairy,” Regina whispers, “or some sort of—”

“Witch? Yes, so I’ve heard. I feel there’s something inside me I haven’t harnessed but…” She throws the knife she holds up in the air. It spins and tumbles up, then boomerangs down and falls into her hand, the handle right against her palm, the sharp blade pointing away from her. “So far my talents are quite… ordinary. Now, I’ve heard you are anything but ordinary. Please, tell me the story of the masquerade ball heist, I’ve heard it many a time, and still don’t believe it.”

They trade stories then, enjoy each other’s company. The men around them are shut out, ignored. Until a particular man makes his entrance.

“Well, if it ain’t the prince of thieves!” The dwarf shouts. Regina can’t help but glance up, finding the handsome thief staring back at her with those annoyingly beautiful blue eyes. He smiles and winks at her. And then he must notice the woman next to her, because he cocks his head a bit as if to say Who is she?

She sees John whispering something into his ear and assumes that he is explaining the identity of the blonde woman next to her.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind sharing a hay tick with that specimen over there,” Maleficent whispers in a sultry tone.

“Who?” Regina asks innocently.

“Who do you think? The gorgeous one.” Mal points directly at him. Regina fights the feeling of jealousy in her, the voice inside her head that keeps repeating Mine. “Who is that anyway?”

“Robin,” she breathes, staring back at him. He must be celebrating. There’s plenty of ale being passed around, and men keep slapping him on the back. He’s laughing and talking animatedly about something… but his eyes keep wandering back to her, offering her that smile of his that makes her heart skip a beat. She glances back at Maleficent who has her eyebrow cocked up, and it’s only then that Regina remembers she didn’t fully answer her question. “Hood,” she corrects, “Robin Hood. The thief.”

“Ohhhh, Robin is it?” Mal says, mimicking her earlier smitten tone.

“What?” Regina dares, scowling at her.

“Someone has a crush.”

“On him? Not in the slightest. We’re competitors, but he… well, we help one another out. He’s not… horrible.”

“Mmm,” Mal says, her eyes never leaving Robin’s.

Regina can’t help but look at him too, and she misses Granny approaching until she’s slamming plates down on the table. “This is from the gentleman — and he did tell me to call him that, just so you know — over there.” Granny points at Robin with a roll of her eyes. But she likes the thief, Regina can tell by the way she smirks and smiles.

It’s a loaf of crusty bread and a large bowl of that hearty meat stew, clearly meant for the two of them. Regina’s stomach grumbles. It’s been too long since she felt full, and this meal could make her feel just that. But… it’s charity. She doesn’t take charity.

“Tell the gentleman to save his money,” she grumbles, “I’m more than capable of getting my own food.”

“Then why are you so god damned bony?” Granny mutters. “And he specifically said to give this food to you two ladies, so this time, Regina, you don’t have the right to refuse.” She turns to Maleficent, waiting for her response.

“Give him my thanks,” the blonde responds, breaking the bread hungrily.

When Granny leaves, Maleficent leans in, a knowing smirk on her lips. “I think your crush reciprocates your feelings.”

Regina rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t. And I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”

“Regina, darling, we’re bandits, we’re outlaws. There’s no sense in saving face. We take what we can get in this world. I’ve been at this long enough to know that wounded pride hurts much less than an empty stomach. Or the pain of illness that comes from malnourishment. Eat up.”

And so she does. She downs the last of her ale (which was supposed to be her dinner) and ravishes the stew and bread. Gods, she was hungry.

She glances up at Robin, half expecting him to be looking smugly at her as she finishes her helping of stew, but his attentions are on his men now.

Good, she supposes. The last thing she wants is to see that smug little smile on his face as he stares at her from across the room.

She wonders what great sting he’s participated in this time, and how successful it was. If he can afford to be buying this amount of bread and ale, she assumes it was quite successful.

He usually invites her over. Usually comes up to try to charm her, and they banter and trade insults until he leaves. She tells herself she finds it incredibly obnoxious and dull. But now that he is standing at the opposite end of the tavern, laughing and gabbing with everyone but her, it feels like, well… she finds she misses it.

She puts those thoughts aside, and focuses on her new friend. Who has time for men, anyway? Especially when there are interesting women such as Maleficent.

When Granny shouts that it is the last call for drinks, Regina thinks of her key. Perhaps her new friend deserves a good night’s sleep more than her. But…it’s raining out, and her fur is still damp, and she’s unwilling to let this room go.

“The tavern owner over there — Granny, as she likes to be called — she gave me a room for the night.” She shows her the key. “It’s most likely one of the big rooms that no one can afford to pay for. If you’ve nowhere else to sleep, I suppose we could split the room.”

Maleficent smiles broadly. “I do like that idea.”

They slip upstairs, Regina pausing to steal a glance at Robin. He’s three sheets to the wind now, a hand on that new barmaid’s hip as he makes her laugh and laugh. He doesn’t even notice she’s leaving.

So much for that crush, huh?

She swallows the bitter resentment down, that green and envious feeling she has no right to feel. He’s not hers.

And she doesn’t even like him, anyway.

.::.

The room is fit for the queen’s guards, should they ever wander to this abandoned corner of the forest. It comes with a fireplace and a tub. The fire is going already when they walk in, a cauldron of water already on the hearth.

“Well, little bandit, it seems the thief isn’t the only one you’ve charmed. This is quite the room.”

Regina smirks. She doesn’t mind admitting that she’s a favorite of the old woman. Besides, she’ll steal some chickens for her and deliver them to her kitchen like she always does. A proper payment for the room and the service at the tavern.

“Oh christ, it’s a bath.” Maleficent moans, running to the fireplace. “Help me carry this over there.”

It’s a heavy, full caldron of heated water. There are buckets of cool water nearby, to mix, and when they’ve filled the tub with all of it, the end result is a perfect, warm bath Regina would just love to sink into. But Maleficent deserves this more than her. Her body itches with jealousy as she watches her undress.

“I left my modesty with all my belongings back at the water’s edge. I hope you don’t mind,” Maleficent gropes at the lacing of her dress and pulls it apart. She slides it off her body, and… well, she’s quite the sight. Years of living on the run has done nothing to harden her curvy female figure. She’s… gorgeous.

Well, at least this will distract her from thoughts of Robin and that wicked woman in the tavern.

Regina has always known this about herself, from a young age she’s known the thoughts and attentions she’s paid to other females isn’t exactly… the norm. She knows what the other noble ladies had to say about women like her, women who feel this way about other women. She bites back the feeling of shame that courses through her, a reflex, residual pain from a previous life she should have all but blocked out.

Those judgy women aren’t here. And Queen Snow may have made such thoughts and acts illegal, but the woman cannot see into her damn head.

Negative thoughts all but leave her mind when Maleficent leans over the tub, testing the water with her hand. She looks gorgeous bent over like this. Regina’s breath catches in her throat, and she does her best to look away as the blonde enters the tub, letting out a sinful groan.

“Oh gods, Regina, this feels so good…” she moans, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been dreaming about a warm bath.”

“Yes, must be nice.” Regina can’t quite keep the bitterness out of her tone, as her envy overwhelms her. She finds some towels, and hell, she can maybe rub out some of the grime with them. Her leather rucksack has her change of clothes. She can dry her current clothes by the fire. If she won’t be nice and warm, at least they will be, by morning.

She tries her best to shield herself from Maleficent’s sight so she can remove her clothes.

“Regina, aren’t you coming in?”

What?

She turns abruptly at the question and looks incredulously at her. Maleficent’s hair is soaked with water now. Curly strands frame her face in a way that looks so positively delicious. She wants to run her hands through her hair, wants to feel those wet locks in her fingers as she kisses her. “I… are you asking me to share this little tub with you?”

“Mmhmm,” Mal hums. “It’s only fair you get to share. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” She raises an eyebrow and cocks her head. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with the idea. Afraid of me?” Her voice goes deeper, and it’s both seductive and taunting.

And hell, the idea of soaking in the heavenly warm water sounds amazing… and she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t want to touch and feel the wet, slippery skin of the beautiful woman before her. So she puts aside the worry that she may embarrass herself by gawking too noticeably, and focuses on proving she isn’t afraid of anyone or anything.

She’s careful to undress by the side of the tub, so she isn’t directly in Maleficent’s line of vision. But she feels her eyes on her, and when she dares to look up, she catches her staring.

Her cheeks flare red, but Maleficent’s do not. She just smiles, and continues to stare at her.

Regina removes the last of her clothes, and her hands fly over her most private areas on instinct. It draws a small chuckle out of her new friend, just a light little bubble of a laugh that she tamps down quickly. Yet, it’s enough to make Regina embarrassed of her modesty. She removes her hands and enters the tub from the opposite end of Maleficent. It’s small, but she fits, sitting down between that gorgeous woman’s legs. Regina’s own legs are bent at the knees, her feet precariously close to Maleficent’s core. It’s a bit dangerous, a bit unexpectedly thrilling, being all wet and close and naked with a beautiful stranger.

But she does not seem like a stranger, not really. She feels as if she had known Maleficent her whole life.

“You are beautiful,” Maleficent murmurs, eyes burrowing themselves deep into Regina’s body. She doesn’t hide her predatory stare, has no intention of ignoring the obvious physical attraction they have for one another. But… well… this is new for Regina. She blushes, and babbles incoherently before finally managing to offer a You too.

The captivating woman reaches to a nearby table and grabs a bathing rag and a rope of soap. She soaps up the rag and hands it to her.

“Sorry, don’t want to be keeping all this soapy goodness for myself,” she says seductively. “Wash up.”

“Thank you, Maleficent.”

“You can call me Mal, little one.”

Mal. Regina nods and swallows heavily. And then she focuses all that wanton desire, channels it into ridding herself of the grime of the forest that she carries on her body.

There’s stubborn dirt that’s clinging to her, pieces of debris she’s longed to wash out, but the river is too cold this time of year for her to get a proper bath. Regina scrubs her arms and shoulders vigorously, paying special attention to her filthy hands. The dirt lifts away, and she feels more like herself, here, in this tub she’s sharing with an alleged witch, than she has in ages.

When it’s time to clean her chest and torso, she has a shy moment. Mal has been watching her, mouth parted, eyes sparkling. Regina feels her insides turn liquid, desire flaring up even more than it had already. She wants… she does not know what she wants. Not really. Well, she wants to touch her. To kiss her, to trace her curves with her tongue… where did that thought come from?

Regina takes a deep breath and washes her breasts, her pert, tight nipples far too hard for such a warm bath. She lifts a leg straight up to wash it, and that’s when she realizes she’s won. Mal lets out an indulgent moan, and now looks more… affected than amused.

She does the same with the other leg. Mal licks her lips and hums.

“You’re a limber little one, aren’t you?” Mal murmurs, “But as flexible as you are, I bet you can’t wash your own back. Turn around, let me get that for you.”

Well, the prospect of sitting between Mals legs while she rubs at her back does not sound bad in the least. She stands in the bath and spins, situating herself torturously close to the object of her desire.

“You have beautiful hair,” Mal says, swiping it aside to rub the expanse of her neck. “So shiny, so soft.”

“You do, too,” Regina purs. Something about not having to face Maleficent makes this… easier. The rag rubs gently as her skin tingles and turns to goose flesh. She moans a bit when Maleficent finishes rubbing, feeling the loss of her touch too acutely.

“Tell me, have you ever been with a woman before?”

The question shocks her, has her gasping audibly, then blushing (thank god her back is turned).

“N-no.” She recovers a bit, and adds, “I’ve been with a man before.”

Mal scoffs. “And so have I. That doesn’t mean much, does it?” She reaches for a pitcher of tepid water and pours some over Regina’s head, then repeats the action. It’s oddly soothing, sensual, as she plays with her wet hair, combing it through her hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blind, I see the way you look at that thief.” Mal lathers soap into her hair while scraping slightly at her scalp. “But you are like me, are you not?”

Like her.

She’s not blind, either, it seems. And she hasn’t misinterpreted Mal’s stares.

“Yes. I am like you,” she agrees, in a voice that sounds surprisingly strong.

“So you are.”

Regina’s insides grow white hot. There’s a bit of a pulse she feels down below, a subtle throb that makes her want for things she should not. She wants to touch herself, or maybe be touched, by this beautiful woman she barely knows, until the ache between her legs is soothed.

She never feels like this, not for anyone but Robin, and he… he’s not an option. He’s too busy with his men and his barmaids and his mind games to ever start something with the likes of her. And here’s a woman she wants, who is warm and willing and she suddenly feels like a little virgin, unable to know what move to make next.

Mal pours more water over her head, washing away the soapy bubbles. She repeats the action until her hair is clean and free of the suds.

“My turn,” Regina breathes. She needs to touch her, to put her hands on the creamy flesh of her back and neck. Regina turns around, prepared for Mal to do the same so she can wash her back.

Mal doesn’t turn her back to her yet.

“Hmmmm…” she says instead, running a hand through her hair, skimming through the locks that frame her face before shifting to slide down her jaw, to her mouth, letting fingers dance over each lovely lip. She cups her hand over her chin.

“I think it’s still my turn.”

It feels so natural, the way they meet for that first kiss. It’s sweet, just a peck, and then Regina draws back to check Mal’s expression. It seems unbelievable to her that a woman so perfect, so strong, would want her.

It’s Mal who draws her back for a longer, deeper kiss. Tongues meet and dance and smack together. And one kiss becomes another.

And another.

Kissing her feels good. It feels right. She’s only kissed Robin once. It was a mistletoe kiss, nothing serious. But she’d kissed him good and proper as he would say, deeply and truly, and it’s the only time a kiss has felt like this does now, with Mal.

It’s only been with Mal and Robin that she’s felt this need, this desire to go further, to touch and press her body against theirs, and oh!

Mal touches first, a hand gropes expertly at her breast while her other grips underwater at her hip, moving slowly down, down….

God, to be touched there by someone she actually wants touching her, the mere thought is just—-

There’s a loud knock at the door, a frantic, uncoordinated thing, but loud as the hounds of hell. Regina and Mal both part from the kiss, moving to get out of the tub with a stealthy reaction of those who have spent too much of their lives hiding from certain death.

“Reginaaa!!!” a voice cries.

She knows that voice.

“Shit,” she whispers, scrambling out of the tub. Mal looks confused, until Regina motions for her to stay where she is. She nods, and sits back down.

The knocking is louder now.

“Regina please open the door, please, I beg you.”

She grabs a towel and makes her way towards the door. The blasted thing is small, and she’s barely able to cover her breasts and ass at the same time, but it will work for this.

“What do you want?” she asks, cracking open the door ever so slightly.

“I need to talk to you, don’t do this, please Regina.”

He looks… well, drunk. But also desperate and sad. She’s not sure what has brought him here, on a night where he was so obviously celebrating.

“Do what?”

“I… I was looking for you…” He’s craning his neck, trying to see what’s behind her, “I… I care for you so much Regina, you’ve no idea what you mean to me.”

She’s unable to get that image of him with the barmaid out of her head. She rolls her eyes and sighs. “You have a funny way of showing it. Why don’t you go back to Ingrid?”

Robin’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head furiously. “Because I care nothing for Ingrid! Her father is a guard at the dungeon, Regina, she can get me a key and find me a way to get those prisoners out and freed, that’s all it was, that’s all it ever was.”

She looks at him skeptically, trying to hide the relief that washes over her. She knows he’s been trying to free the wrongfully accused for months, but the dungeon is well guarded, and the inside is one long, confusing dark maze. And well, maybe it’s wrong, to be happy he hasn’t moved on and into some woman’s bed when that’s exactly what she was about to do (god, she hopes it was) but… well, she rather likes Robin unattached.

“Why are you here?” She asks, her lips curving into a smile.

“I was looking for you, and John said, he said you went to a room, that you were sharing a room with someone and I would lose you forever, and you need to know, Regina, you need to know, I’ve fallen completely in lo— “

A warm wet body slides behind her, and opens the door just enough for him to see.

Mal wraps her arms around her somewhat possessively, peering over Regina’s shoulder at a startled Robin.

“I know you…” she purrs at Robin before dropping a very small, sweet peck to Regina’s shoulder. “The good looking thief who gave us bread and stew. And what can we give you, Prince of Thieves?”

Regina is frozen in fear, in shame, in….

The thief’s eyes grow wide. “I–I–my god, Regina, milady, I— had no idea…”

He sputters, and looks so absolutely mortified it all but washes away all that negativity. Suddenly the whole thing is amusing.

“No, you must come in!” Mal insists, opening the door wide.

Regina turns to her angrily. “Mal…”

“Oh hush, let him in, my dear.”

She walks away naked, back towards the tub. “I’m going to finish my bath. You are more than welcome to sleep it off. It’s a big bed. And I can use all the friends I can get.”

Robin is smirking now, giving Regina that look she absolutely hates (loves) that he seems to give every time he rolls the dice and ends up with snake eyes.

The look changes though, this time, and grows more serious, more… sensual.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted,” he whispers to Regina, reaching up to run a hand through her wet hair. “I just… this thing between us, I’m not the only one who feels it, am I?”

Regina cannot help but feel young and silly as she laughs and ducks her head to hide her smile. “No, you’re not the only one.”

“I’ll leave you ladies to your own devices, then,” he offers, kissing her cheek. “She’s gorgeous, by the way.”

Regina snorts. She supposes it’s Robin congratulating her on her successful pick-up, and it should be offensive, but coming from his mouth, it’s just cute.

“Have your men left?” Regina asks.

Robin grimaces and chuckles. “We were halfway back to camp when John spoke. I… I rushed back here high on whiskey and low on sleep.”

She doesn’t want him to leave just yet, she realizes. There’s a storm outside, and the man is alone and not quite sober yet.

“Come on in,” she sighs. “But I’m locking you in the wardrobe while I get changed.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Robin says even as he teeters into the room on unsteady feet.

“You’re not intruding,” Mal calls out from the bath. “You’re making things more interesting.”

Regina bites her lip to suppress a smile as she wonders exactly how interesting the evening will get.

#doqweek #doq week #doq ff #day 4 - EF/missing year

43 notes · View notes