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halemerry · 9 months

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I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!

I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.

Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.

Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.

Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.

He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.

Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.

Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.

Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.

We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.

The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.

Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.

Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.

Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.

At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.

Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.

It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.

Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'

Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.

"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.

Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.

Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.

Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.

Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.

The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.

His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.

Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.

Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.

Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.

The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.

He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.

Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.

For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).

The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.

The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.

As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.

So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.

There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.

#good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #kind of #is it meta if its mostly me pointing and yelling?#come suffer with me #you have no idea how many times i had to watch these sequences for this #crowley #aziraphale #the bookshop

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moonknightsonata · 4 months

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Acts of Service

pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered

summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.

cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship

wc: 1199

a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.

—

When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.

Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.

Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.

Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.

Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.

Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.

He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.

Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.

You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.

You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.

“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.

“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”

“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.

“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.

“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”

“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.

“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”

Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.

Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.

“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”

Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.

He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.

“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.

“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”

Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”

As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.

You kept going with more examples.

“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.

“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”

“You take care of me because you love me.”

Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”

“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.

“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”

“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”

Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight system x reader #moonknight x reader

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whovio · 3 months

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Michael about playing Aziraphale:

“I had conversations with Neil and Douglas about the story and the character, and so it starts to develop a little bit. Some things Neil would have a definite opinion on, and then there were others where he didn’t want to be too prescriptive because he wanted me to bring what I thought to it as well. Then I had conversations with the costume designer, Claire Anderson, and she brings her character sketches and we start to collaborate, and the same occurs about hair and make-up. We’re talking about the look of the character here, and still playing around with ideas, and then suddenly I’m sitting there next to David at the table read-through and you have to just open your mouth. That’s when you get a feel for who this person really is. You also have a gut response to the character beside you. So, my version of Aziraphale starts to get a bit more flesh on his bones in response to what David is doing. But until I actually stand there in custom, next to him, on set, and they say “Action” , I’m never really sure what’s going to come out. And then I have to let go. All that stuff I’ve just described, all those conversations, the costume fittings and readings, the drawings of what my bookshop will look like, the pictures, ideas and feelings - those will turn into something and as an actor, you just let that happen.

It’s not conscious. What tends to happen is that I get an instinctive response to the character and the tone of the piece, but I don’t think too much about how that will express itself in the performance.

For me, it’s about keeping a rich and imaginative world going on in your head while you are in the character, and keeping that alive and vivid. It’s about being responsive to that, and not thinking too much about how it’s coming across. So the story gets expressed through the character, and the character expresses itself through me.”

Good Omens TV Companion

#michael sheen #good omens #good omens tv companion #neil gaiman #Michael becomes Aziraphale #Method Acting

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traveler-at-heart · 3 months

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Across the Natashaverse - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Summary: After you're sent to another world, Natasha has to deal with yourself, from another universe, and a very different life.

Other POV from this fic.

“Put more weight on your left foot” Natasha says, barely checking America’s movements.

Of course she knows this is important. Maria asked her to train Chavez in the basics of hand to hand combat. Her mind is elsewhere, though.

Especifically, you.

Natasha thought she was doing you a favor, she really did. Someone as kind as you could do much better than her. Agreeing to a date would only give you false hope, so she rejected the invitation.

It was foolish of her to think that things would be the same after that. You weren’t distant or rude, though that might have been easier.

Every morning, you’d still have breakfast with her, show her funny videos or tell her about your latest discoveries in the lab with Stark, which in the end, were related to her work as well.

You simply stopped sharing your interests, or going out of your way to seek her company. Long gone were the days of sitting together at the Met while you talked about your favorite paintings. Or the grocery shopping that turned into strolls through Central Park and ended in your favorite bookshop.

All that was left now were pleasantries.

“Am I doing it right?” America asks. She sure as hell isn’t, so Natasha shakes her head, hoping she can manage to focus on the task at hand.

“Stop” she says, stepping on the sparring mat.

“Please don’t tell me you want me to fight you”

“You’re punching the air, Chavez. The only way to learn is by doing. It will be fine”

The girl doesn’t seem too convinced, but Natasha starts with slow movements and corrects America as they go. When the intensity of the training increases, the girl’s powers begin to stir. A yellow flash on the ceiling distracts Natasha, and the next thing she feels is America’s fist colliding with her cheek.

“Crap! Agent Romanoff, I’m so sorry”

But there’s another loud thud, not far from the gym.

“Did you hear that?” Natasha asks, trying to figure what the noise is.

“Maybe”

“Take a break” Natasha instructs, looking around the room to check if everything’s alright. The team is still figuring out the extent of her powers and Natasha worries the girl just unleashed a demonic creature or something.

The redhead is so focused on the room, she doesn’t notice someone approaching.

That is, until she feels a hard slap on her ass, and a sultry voice against her ear.

“There’s my favorite ass-assin”

Five seconds later, she has the intruder upside down, back against the floor, gasping for air.

“Baby, I know you don’t like my jokes but this is a little too much, don’t you think?”

It takes her a second to process what’s happening.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, love” you smirk, all smug despite being knocked down by Natasha. “The weirdest thing just happened, I was going to get a snack because Anya was moody and then fell on my ass right outside the gym”

Natasha stares at you, as if you’re speaking a foreign language. And then it all clicks. The slightly longer hair, how you smell and feel different.

She let’s go of you and starts pulling your shirt by the collar.

“Hell yeah, let’s get naked”

“Where’s your birthmark?”

“I don’t have a…”

“You’re from another world”

“Ah, that’s so sweet…” you try to lean forward and kiss her, but she pushes you away. “Babe, I’m getting mixed signals here”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call for an emergency meeting”

—

“I’m sorry, she’s what?” Sam points at you, and Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose.

“She’s from another universe. America must have opened up a portal when we were training”

“Alright, so she just opens it back and we correct the mistake”

“It’s not that simple” Tony walks in.

“Uhm, guys. This meeting should be for Avengers only” you lower your voice, eyeing the man suspiciously.

“Hello? That table you’re sitting in so carelessly. Mahogany. Paid by me”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen this man before”

“A world without Tony Stark” Steve says, amused.

“Must be really quiet in your Compound” Sam says and you smirk.

“Why, no thanks to you. Not with all those super models you’re always bringing back to your room” you raise your eyebrows and Sam’s eyes widen.

“I date super models? I wanna go to her world”

Steve and Tony begin to argue about how that will make the multiverse collapse, when Natasha interrupts them.

“She’s messing with you, idiots”

Tony and Sam look at each other and then at you. You almost fall to the ground as you laugh. Since you’re not helpful, the team ignores you as they keep discussing the best way to identify your reality and correct the glitch.

“Y/N 2.0, we need more information about your… where did she go?” Tony grumbles.

“I got this” Natasha sighs, stomping to the kitchen. Sure enough, you’re rummaging through the fridge, complaining at every item of food you find.

“Don’t you have anything with sugar here?”

“You’re free to prepare anything for yourself”

“Not unless you want the kitchen to explode, Nat”

The redhead pushes you aside, while you look around the living room, inspecting the pictures on every place you can find.

“No wedding? Or Anya?”

“Nope” Natasha says, her voice shaking lightly.

“Why?”

“None of your business” she says, handing you a plate with a sanwich.

“Thanks. How did you know I was lying about Stark and Wilson?”

“Your voice gets all high pitched when you tell a lie” she answers, refusing to look at you.

“Huh” you mumble, taking a bite out of the sandwich. “Um. Is this peanut butter?”

“Would her Highness prefer caviar?” Natasha teases, but turns around and finds you covered in hives. “Shit!”

“That’s fine” you say, struggling to breathe. “Nothing an epi can’t fix, love”

You pass out in the middle of the kitchen, wondering if you’ll leave this foreign universe in one piece.

—

After leaving you at the medbay, Natasha goes back to the meeting room. She’s examining all the reports and missions that are related to multiverses. It’s a lot to digest, including all the quantum physics.

Alone for the first time since this whole thing started, she finally allows herself the chance to miss you. Right around this time, you’d be making dinner, and she’d be in the kitchen, pretending to help just to be close to you.

What if she never gets you back?

“Hello, there” a voice says. You approach slowly, knowing it’s best not to surprise her.

“How are you feeling? I’m really sorry…”

“There’s no way you could have known. It honestly never occurred to me that things like allergies were different” you say, patting her leg. “Interested in string theory?”

“Yeah, it’s a great ice breaker” Natasha says, and you chuckle. “You don’t seem too worried”

“The America Chavez of my world has had a bit more training. I’m sure I’ll be back home for lunch tomorrow”

“You could have said something!” Natasha feels the need to kick your ass again.

“Hey, I was gonna! And then I almost died”

“Jerk”

“What are you so worried about? She’s in a safe world”

“What if your Natasha gave Y/N a similar welcome?”

“Oh, I’m sure she had her pinned to a wall, only for very different reasons”

Natasha turns to you, alarmed. Her jealousy is so obvious that all you can do is laugh.

“There it is. I wasn’t sure you had any feelings towards her. Wanna tell me what happened?” you nudge her chair with your foot and she looks at you, annoyed.

“She asked me out, gave me flowers, I said no”

“Flowers, huh? Well, she’s more romantic than me. Natasha and I were pretending to be a couple for a mission and then I just blurted out I wouldn’t mind doing it again under different circumstances” you explain, laughing at the memory. “But hey, if flowers and chocolates aren’t your thing, I respect it”

“It’s not like that”

“Then, what is it like?”

She thinks back to all the times you’ve made her feel safe, cared for, loved. You make it look so easy, but for the life of her, Natasha can’t figure out how to reciprocate.

What you make her feel, is too good and beautiful for someone like her.

“I haven’t earned her love” is all she manages to say.

“Natasha” you call, softly, and only speak when she finally turns to you. “You don’t have to do anything to be deserving of love”

There is silence, and then you take her hand in yours.

“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s grab some Chinese”

“Fine. No more peanut butter, though. I don’t want to fight myself if something happens to you”

“Now that would be entertaining”

—

Next morning, everyone is back in the meeting room. Apparently, due to some bad experiences, they’ve decided you should come back to your world immediately, before the universes collapse.

“I promise you, it will be fine” you insist. Natasha is the only one that seems to believe you, so you save yourself the trouble and spin around in the office chair.

“Can you stop?” Steve says, irritated.

“I’m trying to create a vortex that is powerful enough to send me back to my reality, Steve” but he still glares and you stand up. “Fine. I’m getting a snack”

As you exit the room, Natasha comes running behind you.

“Wait. I wanted to apologize”

“Steve is an old grumpy man, don’t sweat it”

“No, not about that. I’m sorry for… being so hard on you when you first got here”

“We deal with aliens and all kinds of threats. It’s not so crazy to think that an intruder is dangerous. It’s all good, Nat” you shrug your shoulders.

“I just wouldn’t be ok if your Natasha had acted that way with my Y/N”

“Your Y/N?” you repeat, pleased as Natasha blushes. “Good for you, Romanoff. Get the girl. Trust me when I say, she’ll make it worth it” you wiggle your eyebrows.

“Such a flirt”

“We can’t help ourselves around you, no matter the universe”

You wink, and walk to the kitchen, leaving Natasha in the hallway.

Inevitably, she thinks about you. The one that belongs here, with her. Are you enjoying your time in that other universe? Will you resent her for bringing you back? Maybe that Natasha is more loving and sweet, and you’ll finally realise that she can’t actually make you happy…

Her thoughts begin to spiral again, until the commotion in the room breaks her train of thought.

“Damn, you fell from the ceiling” Sam says, looking up. A yellow portal closes just as Natasha opens up the door. Everyone’s around you, and when your face comes to view, Natasha’s heart almost stops.

There’s a little cut and bruising from the fall, but you’re back.

She pushes everyone, and wraps you in her arms. You return the gesture.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me”

She hugs you closer, smiling against your neck.

Natasha’s never letting go again.

—

“So, tell me everything!” you say, sitting next to Natasha as you drive back home. “Did I tell you I almost died to peanut exposure?”

“Looks like someone had fun” your wife comments and you smile.

“What about you, my love? Did you do anything dirty with my other self?”

“Well, there might have been some kissing and touching before I noticed…”

“Not to brag, but the other Natasha was on top of me” you say, trying to pretend like it’s no big deal your wife kissed another you.

“You pissed her off and she threw you to the ground, didn’t she?” Natasha smirks.

Damn it.

“Maybe”

Seeing your daughter brings you back to reality. Fun as it was to be in another universe, your life is perfect here.

“Mommy, are you cooking dinner again tonight?” the girl says as you carry her to the kitchen.

“Uh… let’s have lunch first, yes? Go wash your hands”

Natasha hands you a plate of what the other Y/N made and you gasp.

“Holy crap, this is delicious! Babe, not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have judged you if you fucked her against a wall after tasting her food”

“You’re such an idiot” Natasha rolls her eyes, sitting on your lap and stealing a bite of the pasta. “But you are my idiot”

“Always and in every universe, baby”

You kiss her softly, happy to be home.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 10 months

Text

A kiss amidst the bookshelves

pairing: Remus x reader

word count: 2k

tags / description: friends to lovers, first kiss, steamy kiss, bookish Remus and reader, best friend Sirius, friendship fluff, romance fluff, gn

“You look like you’re about to murder him,” Sirius snarks, falling into the sofa next to you amidst the noise of the party surrounding you, following your gaze across the room.

“I…” you begin your routine protesting but give it up. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, surprised.

“You…?”

An exasperated sigh, then, “I… it… ugh,” you drop your face into your palms and speak into them, “Murder would simplify things.” Sirius barks a laugh in response.

“Do you want an accomplice in offing our best mate?” His smile is conspiratorial, but there’s something in his eyes behind his typical teasing tone.

“Would you mind? I don’t know if I can go through with it,” you joke seriously. “If you do the killing part, I promise I’ll help hide the body.” Sirius, smiling but knowing, pulls you into him, his arm around your shoulders, your head coming to rest on him.

“To be fair, that would probably be the more difficult part,” he continues, and he feels your chuckle against his chest. “I know I can take him, but our Moony is pretty tall; it might pose a problem when we have to move him after.”

An affirmative “hm” is all you offer in response, basking in his warm comfort silently for a moment.

“Or…” he cuts the quiet. “And hear me out here, love. I know homicide will seem the more appealing option initially… but you could, you know, tell him how you feel.”

“Murder. I choose murder,” you deadpan.

“Y/NNN,” he whines with the tinge of a scold.

“Siriusss,” you mimic childishly.

He sighs and says, “Darling, I know it’s scary,” he squeezes you, “but your miserable pining is seriously starting to bum me out. I don’t know how much more I can take honestly.” You pull away from him and shove his shoulder as he chuckles. “Alright, alright, sorry. I suppose I’m slightly concerned for your happiness as well.” The energy between you shifts palpably. You don’t get this side of Sirius much, and the gravity of it shakes you.

“I can’t,” you whisper, looking down.

“You can,” he responds immediately, gently pushing your chin up, his thumb stroking your jaw.

“Everything alright?” a third voice, achingly familiar, startles you. You rush to wipe the ghosts of tears before turning to where he’s taking a seat on the arm of the sofa, looking down at you and Sirius.

“All good, mate,” Sirius answers before you have to, and you grin gratefully at him.

“Sure?” Remus checks, looking straight at you, feigning levity.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you say lightly. “How’s Mary doing?” you ask, nodding to where he had just been chatting enthusiastically to her across the room. You’d always suspected they’d had feelings for each other back in your school days. “Good, good,” he nods. “We were just catching up, hadn’t seen her in a while. I might show her the shop next week actually. Think she’ll enjoy it.” You stomach sinks at this. “Oh yeah?” you hear the strain in your voice, your efforts at hiding your dismay clearly failing. So you quickly add, “That’s great, Rem. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Remus — the Remus that can read you like a children’s book — squints his eyes a bit at you, confused by your tension, probably still pondering the moment he interrupted between you and Sirius.

The shop. Your shop. Your favourite place on Earth. A place you thought of as yours and his. I mean, it was, technically, but you know. You’d opened the bookshop together about a year ago now, and business was tough but picking up. Though you weren’t making much money (yet, hopefully), you and Remus were the happiest you’d been in years, finally doing something both of you found joy in, and together no less.

“Speaking of,” you start, stretching. “I have some work I wanted to finish, so I think I’m going to get going.” “Now?” he asks in disbelief. “It’s late, love. I don’t remember there being anything urgent?”

“No, I know; it’s not.” You get up a bit awkwardly. Standing in front of where he’s perched on the sofa, you’ve gone from looking up at him to down. He really is beautiful from any angle, you think to yourself. You realize you’re staring; you don’t know how strangely, but you see he’s looking expectantly at you, curiousity gleaming in his deep brown eyes. “Urgent, I mean,” you stutter out. “It’s just that inventory I’ve been trying to finish up.”

“You can do that tomorrow,” he tries. “I’ll help.” “No, it’s alright, Rem, really. I just feel like it now.” You smile a strained smile with fake ease but real warmth. Then, shaking off the heaviness of the moment, you give him a quick hug, turn to give Sirius a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, and head out.

You like the shop at night, when it’s empty and quiet. Well, sometimes it’s empty during the day as well, to be honest, but there’s something about the night and the blanket the darkness provides. You especially like it when Remus is there with you, but it’s nice when you’re alone too. Just you and the books and the sense that the shelves that envelop you hold endless possibilities and infinite feelings you can just melt into.

You walk down the cramped aisles for a few minutes, your eyes and your fingertips tracing the titles. When you stumble on a comforting favourite, you pull it down, and nestle into one of the two inviting armchairs you and Remus had set up in a cosy corner of the small space.

If it were any other activity, you would have been shocked at how quickly you were immersed, leaving the heaviness of your love and your worries in the real world to be picked up again on your way out. You are shocked, however, when, as you flip a page, a low voice says, “Hard at work I see.”

You jump, dropping the book, and screech, “Fucking hell, Remus! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me.” He’s laughing like he can’t help himself as he kneels down in front of you to pick up the book, holding it in one hand and holding the other up in a gesture of guilty surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “It’s not like I was quiet coming in.”

“Well, I didn’t hear you,” you shoot angrily. “Clearly.” He’s grinning as he offers you the book. “Good choice,” he adds, giving it a little shake.

“Yeah, well, it’s comforting every time.” Your tone is easier now but still a little edgy as you grab the book and place it on the little table beside you.

“Hm.” He sounds serious; it makes you turn to him instinctively; you look into his concerned eyes. “And why did you need comforting this time?” His voice is a syrupy whisper, and his question makes time stand still.

Because I love you too much, you idiot, you think but don’t say. “I’m fine,” you do say.

“You’re not,” he responds. You look away.

“I’m fine enough.”

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” he pleads, putting his hand on your knee. “You’ve been weird all night.” “Don’t deny it,” he adds when you open your mouth to say something immediately. It’s not harsh. You close your mouth again, but don’t know what to say instead.

“Did something happen?” he prods after several moments. You stay silent, but tears well in your eyes, transfixed on his. He whispers your name lovingly and brings his other hand to your cheek, stroking gently. You nod before you can think yourself out of it. “I messed up, Rem,” you whisper. “When?” he asks, all kindness. After a mirthless chuckle you say, “Around when we were twelve I think. Maybe even eleven.” His thumb stops its comforting motion in his confusion; his eyebrows are furrowed; one side of his mouth seems conflicted about whether to laugh or not. “I don’t understand,” he says finally.

“It’s your fault, really,” you half-laugh, wiping your eyes. “What?” He tenses and pulls away from you, concern elevated to fear in his eyes and voice.

“I didn’t mean,” you start, leaning forward and grabbing his hands in yours. “That’s not what I meant.” Your voice is still tinged in a cynical snicker, but he’s clearly not amused.

“What did you mean then?” It’s sharper, and it hurts.

“I…” Another chuckle. “Y/N,” losing patience.

“Fuck, this is hard.” You take your hands back and cover your face with them, kneading in frustration. A beat. He says your name again, just as firm but much more gentle, and reaches for your hands, holding them again. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I thought you knew that. We can work through anything, together… but you have to talk to me. Did I do something?”

You look back and forth between his eyes, hear Sirius’s voice in your head: “you can,” and take a deep breath.

“You can tell me,” he repeats, and you believe him… but can’t bring yourself to it.

“I can’t,” you whisper, and you hate the familiar sound of it in your ears. You see his posture sink in defeat, but he doesn’t let go of your hands.

“Can I show you instead?” you ask, terrified of what came next, but more terrified of never finding out. He nods eagerly and goes to stand up, but you squeeze his hands tighter and hold him in place. He settles back down where he’s knelt in front of you, staring at you intently. You shift to the edge of the chair, quite close to him now. One of your hands releases his and comes up toward his face. You hear him gasp as you run your fingertips along his cheekbone then along a prominent scar there. You keep going and run your fingers through his hair then let your hand rest there, on the back of his head among his soft brown curls. You look down at his lips. Your gaze lingers there, making your intention obvious as you move even closer to him. He’s stock-still as you approach, but when your nose touches his, he lunges hungrily forward to meet you.

He moans into your mouth as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and yours comes up around his shoulders. Your chests are flush now, your legs open wider to accommodate his kneeling form in between them, leaning into you completely, devouring you. His lips work against yours, exploring; his hands, intent but indecisive, travel from pulling you close to holding your face firmly against his, his thumbs lovingly pushing into your jaw, his fingers wrapped in your hair. You immediately fall into a rhythm, opening your mouths to each other. He tastes like chocolate, and you giggle at the realization. Remus instinctively smiles at the sound of your laughter and the slight withdrawal from your mouth gives him the opportunity to trail away from your lips, slowly along your jaw, down to your neck, licking and lingering. You bare your neck to him, your breathing coming more heavily now, your grasp on him tighter. You grip his hair and croon his name, and he moans loudly. He gives your neck a final, wet kiss and pulls back to look at you.

His eyes are dark and lidded; his lips swollen and moist; his hair is messy, and the look on his face is one you’ve never seen before. He looks giddy and lustful simultaneously. Pulling your face to his with a hand at your nape, he rests his forehead against yours and gives you a hungry kiss, fast but firm. He chuckles.

“I still don’t understand.” “What?” you smile.

“How is this a problem?” His thumb is caressing you; his smile is beaming.

“I didn’t know if you felt it too,” you confess.

A teasing tsk then, “Quite daft for the cleverest person I know.” He brings your mouth to his again.

smutty pt. 2!

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #friends to lovers #first kiss #reader insert #x reader #x y/n

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createserenity · 5 months

Text

I won’t leave you on your own.

Right, this might be controversial, or I might be the only one who sees this moment in this way, but I need to talk about this now. It’s really sweet when Crowley says this, except what happens afterwards isn’t sweet at all. And can I just add right now that I love both Azirpahale and Crowley, they’re both wonderful and also brillianty flawed, I don’t hate either of them. But as far as I’m concerned Crowley behaves really stupidly here.

GIF by ladybokatankryze

C: I’m going to get the humans out of here and then I’m coming back. I won’t leave you on your own. A: I know.

Oh dear, Crowley. Why did you leave him on his own after saying this? Why did you let Aziraphale down? Why does no one talk about the fact that you did? You walked out that bookshop and Aziraphale was so confident you would come back that he expressed this confidence to the humans and then defended his reliance on you, “Crowley will have a plan,” “Rescuing me makes him so happy.”

But you didn’t come back, Crowley! Why? You left the bookshop, spotted Muriel and then in some super weird ADHD* move just left Aziraphale to sort out the demon problem on his own whilst you went off to heaven. Whyyyyy?

Now okay. I admit, Crowley was working towards the ultimate goal of finding out what the heck had happened to Gabriel, which was something that needed to be done. He spotted the opportunity, knew it probably wouldn’t come up again and so took it. He did what probably needed to be done. He also did it expecting that the demons wouldn’t ever be able to enter the bookshop because Aziraphale was never going to say they could come in. It’s not his fault Maggie is an idiot. I still love him and so does Aziraphale. Also Aziraphale is perfectly capable of defending himself in some ways and we see this after Crowley leaves…

BUT. What a mistake.

He basically left Aziraphale on his own to fight the demons. An Aziraphale who trusted so absolutely that Crowley would come back, and that Crowley would know what to do, that he hadn’t bothered to come up with the whole plan himself. He didn’t have to. Aziraphale and Crowley are a team, they work together and they don’t let each other down.

Except this time Crowley did.

It’s unclear exactly how long Crowley spent in heaven watching the trial etc but since the ball starts at 6.30pm and the demons seem to turn up not that long into the evening, we can assume it’s a really long time. By the time he comes back it’s very clearly morning again, the entire night has passed. Maybe Crowley didn’t intend to be away that long, maybe he expected his jaunt to heaven to be quicker, or maybe this is because time passes differently in heaven and Crowley had no way of knowing exactly what time he’d return to earth, but whatever the reason, he leaves Aziraphale alone for a really long time, after explicitly stating that he won’t leave him on his own.

By the time he does turn up it’s long after the battle is over and long after Aziraphale has been forced to take an action he really didn’t want to take in order to defend himself and the bookshop.

Just look at Aziraphale’s face when Crowley returns, he isn’t super delighted to see him, he's sort of happy, but more looks like he can’t believe Crowley is actually there.

When he says, “You came back!” he sounds kind of surprised and also perhaps relieved. Why? Because he’s given up on Crowley coming back by that point. He has no idea what has happened to him or why he let him down so badly.

I think we can fairly safely assume that Aziraphale and Crowley can sense at least to some extent where the other one is when they are both on earth if they try to do so, and it’s probable that at some point after sorting out the demon problem Aziraphale had wondered where Crowley had gone and tried to sense him, so likely he knows Crowley has been away from the earth. What he doesn’t know is where he’s been or whether he went there willingly (at least until he turns up with a bunch of angels, at which point he’s intelligent enough to work it out).**

So now he knows where Crowley went, but he doesn’t know why or what he discovered. He’s still in the “Crowley let me down,” space at this point. Then Crowley asks what happened to the demons and Aziraphale has to tell him he blew up his halo. Crowley finds this delightful and he laughs, but for once they aren’t laughing together. This is only the second time that we have seen Crowley laugh at Aziraphale (the first is when he mocks him about thinking he’s a demon after the Job thing, which he quickly stops doing and switches to being kind when he realises how upset Aziraphale is). When he laughs about the halo he doesn’t mean it to be mocking, it’s actually the same disbelieving reaction that he does on the walls of Eden about the flaming sword, except magnified, he doesn’t just do a single “you what?” of disbelief and amusement as he does in Eden, he properly laughs because he knows Aziraphale better and thinks their relationship can take the laughter.

Usually he’d be right, but the problem is he’s just let Aziraphale down. So while he isn’t really mocking Aziraphale, because he loves that Aziraphale does these unexpected and wonderful things, Aziraphale doesn’t like the laugh at all. Look at his face. He glares at Crowley and his look very much is one of, “if you’d come back like you said you would, if you hadn’t let me down, I probably wouldn’t have had to do it at all.”

Then since Crowley rather stupidly doesn’t read the reaction and stop laughing the look changes more to, “I’m really upset about all this, please, please don’t laugh at me, you’re hurting me.”*** It's only shown briefly so it's difficult to capture, but you can just catch this in his expression before the camera cuts back to Crowley, and then again for a second when it recuts to Aziraphale, just before he reacts to the arrival of the demons.

Basically, Aziraphale is really fucking pissed off and upset with Crowley at this point. (Side note, Maggie and Nina look less than impressed by the laughter too – even they know it’s not the right reaction.)

If you need anymore evidence of how annoyed he is, look at how far away he stays from Crowley whilst he’s laughing. Aziraphale never stands that far away from him!

Luckily for Crowley Aziraphale is very good at forgiveness, and also very much likes it when Crowley takes charge of a situation and thankfully Crowley finally steps up. Whilst Aziraphale worries about what he’s done (look at the tension in his hands) Crowley categorically declares there will be no war and the demons react by listening to him. You can see Aziraphale start to reconnect with Crowley, his eyes flick back to him and then once Shax is up and awake his hands relax and he closes the distance between him and Crowley, angling his body towards him and standing close to him again.

Crowley is going to sort things out and Aziraphale’s faith in him is easily restored, although without doubt it’s suffered some damage underneath.

So what does this all mean? Well, firstly Crowley hurts Aziraphale deeply here and doesn’t realise he’s done it (and this is the second hurt he’s caused him within the space of a few days). Aziraphale forgives him pretty quickly, because Crowley unknowingly repairs things and Aziraphale is so full of love that it will take more than this one transgression to break their bond.

What it does mean though is that Aziraphale has just had a reminder of the demonic nature of demons shoved in his face. Crowley has just hurt him in several different ways in the space of a very short time. I doubt he consciously sees this as demonic because by this point I don’t think he really even thinks of Crowley as a demon on a day to day basis, but I do think he is responding to that hurt in a very human way.

Look, if your partner left you in a sticky situation and told you they would be back immediately and then didn’t turn back up for hours wouldn’t you be pissed off? Even if nothing happened (if Maggie had never let the demons in for example) you’d still have a few things to say about your partner’s hours of absence – yes, even if they had just unveiled a huge clue about why the whole situation was happening in the first place. That wouldn’t undo all your thoughts about how they let you down really badly and left you on your own in a terrible situation.

Another issue is Shax’s demonic nature – specifically how Shax has hurt him during the attack on the bookshop. If Crowley had been there there’s no way Shax would have had even half a second to get in her jibes to Aziraphale, but he’s not there and Shax gets her chance. What she does is play on Aziraphale’s fears about Crowley’s feelings for him (right at a time when Crowley is letting him down) and also remind Aziraphale of some of the ways in which he is a less-than-stella angel (as a side note I find it really interesting that Shax seems to have this ability to look at people and see their worst fears about themselves – do all demons have that or does every demon have a slightly different ‘power’?) So now Aziraphale has been let down by Crowley, which has directly led to Shax hurting him, and had his worst fears about his own nature brought to the forefront of his mind.

He’s been let down, mocked and emotionally wounded, and he goes into the conversation with the Metatron carrying that hurt, only to hear the Metatron singing his praises and telling him he’s, “the perfect angel for the job”. The Metatron deliberately soothes Aziraphale’s worst fears about himself in order to manipulate him. I’m not saying Aziraphale doesn’t see through it or that he is completely taken in by it or that this is his motivation for accepting the job, I think there’s more to it than that, but well… something to think about?

Mainly though, Crowley acts in a bit of a daft way here. His jaunt to heaven is funny and useful for moving the mystery along, but in terms of his relationship with Aziraphale it's an absolute disaster of a move. I'd want the "I was wrong" dance as an apology for that one if it was me. Just saying.

#good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #good omens #final 15 #aziraphale #crowley

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straykeedz · 5 months

Text

day 27: changbin x reader x i.n. + squirting

straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; dirty talking; praise kink if you squint (you don’t have to squint so hard lol); nipple play; clit play; fingering; degradation kink if you squint; ♡

wc: 5k (oops);

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

⛲︎

The story of how you ended up fucking your roommate Changbin and his gym bro starts with you eavesdropping. Accidentally, of course.

“- and she squirted.”

You stop right in your tracks, and that causes you to spill water on your clean pajamas and fluffy socks, and you swear under your breath. Changbin, your roommate, and Jeongin, his hot gym bro, are sprawled on your couch, empty bowls of snacks and cans of beer in front of them.

“What conversation did I just walk in to?”, you furrow your eyebrows at them, and chuckle when you see Jeongin starting to get red in the face. He is cute, all flustered and embarrassed - as if he wasn’t just talking about squirt.

“Noona!”, he squeaks, tips of his ears red. “Ah, we were just… just…”, he stutters.

You sit down next to Changbin, and he scoots to make you enough space on the couch. “Ah, Jeongin was just updating me about Chan’s date.”, he explains.

“With the bookshop girl?”, you ask, getting comfortable on the couch, leaning on the cushions, suddenly interested in the conversation, especially since Chan’s been pining over this mystery girl for weeks. Changbin and Jeongin nod. “What happened? I wanna know everything.”

“Yah, you’re so nosy!” Changbin chuckle, shaking his head, playfully slapping your thigh. It isn't unusual for him to be touchy with you, and skinship between the two of you is perfectly common and not weird at all, but it makes your body jolt nonetheless.

“Yah, hyung, don’t be rude to y/n-noona!” Jeongin scolds his hyung.

“I’m not being rude to her, Jeongin-ah.” Changbin clarifies. “Plus, y/n knows I love her.” Another playful slap on your thigh.

You know he meant it in a friendly way - that’s just how Changbin is, playful and easygoing with everyone, a social butterfly. Yeah, he doesn’t love you in a romantic way, he probably just meant it as a friend. He loves you as a friend and a roommate.

“Anyway,” Changbin changes the subject after a few awkward seconds of silence “Chan and this girl went out last Friday.”, he informs you.

“Oh, wow, I’m happy for h-“, you start, but you are quickly interrupted by Changbin.

“And they fucked.”

You blink a couple of times at your friend’s bluntness, then you giggle. “Well, things escalated pretty quickly. Although I didn’t peg him for the kind of guy to kiss and tell.”, you admit. “Not so quickly, at least.”

Both Changbin and Jeongin chuckle at that. “He usually doesn’t, but he had pretty big news this time.”, the older says.

“Yeah, apparently she squirted.”, you giggle, and Jeongin nearly chokes on his own spit - Changbin has to pat him on the back to help him regain his breath.

“Yeah, you…” Jeongin clears his throat. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”, he says, a bit red in the face - kinda cute, considering that he was talking to Changbin about the filthiest things mere minutes before. Changbin chuckles at Jeongin’s reaction, and the younger boy glares at him.

“Wait, but-“, you start, but interrupt your own thought before you could voice it out properly. It’d be weird to ask them such a thing, wouldn’t it?

“What?” Changbin doesn’t let it slide, of course. Moreover, he sounds genuinely curious about what you were about to say.

“Never mind, not important.”, you wave your hands and desperately try to change the subject, but you should’ve known that it wouldn’t work on them. Curious little fuckers.

“No, no, no, you can’t leave us hanging now, noona!” Jeongin protests.

“Yah, the maknae is right, you can’t.” Changbin adds.

“And I’m the nosy one.”, you shake your head. “I was just curious about…”

“About…?”

Seo Changbin is a menace. Both you and Jeongin glare at him, and he finally shuts his mouth.

“Do… do you guys actually like it?”, your question comes out a lot shyer than you actually intended to, but it really isn’t your fault - it is kinda embarrassing to talk about something like that with your roommate and his friend, who is also your friend, but not the point.

“Like what?” Jeongin asks, eyebrows furrowed, and Changbin has a matching expression on his face. Dumb and dumber.

You groan. “When - ugh, I really hate you…” you sigh. “When a girl… you know… squirts.”, you clear your throat.

Their eyes widen, and their mouths fall open. Then they blink. And then they exchange confused looks. And you feel terribly stupid and ridiculous. You should’ve never opened your mouth, no matter how much the curiosity was eating you alive.

“When you… said us guys…” Changbin clears his throat, and even though he’s trying his best to look you in the eye as he speaks - he can’t help but drop his gaze to his fidgety hands every now and then, unable to hold your gaze. “Did you mean, you know, just guys - like, in general, or… us guys? As in… us?”

Us - as in him and Jeongin, that’s what he means. Jeongin, beside him, raises his eyebrows, but judging by the look he has on his face, you can tell he was probably thinking the same. Actually, your question was a general one - you didn’t mean to direct it specifically to them, but now you have to be honest with yourself and admit to yourself that the curiosity is eating you alive.

“Oh, I- I meant in general.”, you quickly respond.

Changbin nods, then fidgets with the rings on his fingers. “Well, obviously I can’t speak on behalf of all guys, but most of them like it.”

After a few seconds of silence, another question comes out of your lips. “And what about… you?”

Changbin’s eyes widen. Then, he clears his throat. “Uh… I like it.”

“Oh.”

“I like it, too. Very much.” Jeongin butts in after a couple of seconds of silence, raising his hands a bit, which is kinda stupid now that he’s thinking about it, so he lowers it immediately. “And I know a lot of guys who like it, as well.”, he quickly adds. In his defence, he was just trying to make things less awkward.

“A lot?”, you didn’t mean to sound this shocked.

“Duh?”, it’s Changbin who speaks this time, as if you just asked him the most stupid question with the most obvious answer. “I mean, who wouldn’t love to know they’re making their partner feel that good?”

It actually makes sense when he puts it like that, however you’d never been able to see it that way, and you were never able to let yourself go in bed, at least not that much. Having an orgasm during sex isn’t exactly rare for you, but there’s just something about… squirting, that freaks you out. You are scared of making a fool out of you, or that your partner won’t like it, or to simply embarrass yourself - especially during oral or fingering, where you usually feel exposed the most.

“I don’t know, I just thought…”, you shrug “That, you know, they’d find it gross.”

“Gross?”, they say in unison.

You nod. “Yeah, gross.”, you repeat. “I always… hold myself back, you know? When I feel-“, you notice their shocked expressions, their mouths agape. “Wait, maybe that’s tmi.”, you giggle, embarrassed, just realising what you just said.

Maybe it’s not exactly appropriate to talk about your sex life in front of your roommate and his friend, maybe you shouldn’t have told them how you hold yourself back from squirting every time you feel you’re about to do it. And maybe they shouldn’t feel that way about knowing.

“Maybe it’s- maybe it’s not my place to say, but…” Jeongin starts. “If you feel like holding back… then maybe you shouldn’t sleep with people with whom you don’t feel comfortable around. Sex is supposed to be fun and intimate, and you should be free to explore your fantasies. If you can’t do that… maybe you’re not having sex with the right person.”

Jeongin’s right, you know he is. But it’s not that simple - letting yourself go like that is not something you’re sure you’re capable of doing, at least not in front of someone you don’t have a connection with. Plus, the last time you had sex with a man was ages ago, and you can’t even remember what it felt like. And when you’re alone… well, you’ve never felt that sensation. Simple as that.

“I know, and you’re right, but…”, your drop your face into your hands. “It’s incredibly hard to find someone whom I’m comfortable enough with.”

Jeongin seems to have something in mind, but neither you nor Changbin are prepared for the words that left his mouth mere seconds later.

“But you’re comfortable around us, right? Changbin and I.”

The implication behind those words is clear. Changbin, too, stares at him with wide eyes - not because he doesn’t want it, too. The opposite, actually. He wants it a little too much, and Jeongin knew it well - they’d talked about it before, how incredibly hot you are in their eyes. Changbin is about to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Yeah, I am.”

Changbin looks at you shocked, eyebrows raised and eyes open wide. Then, his gaze shifts to Jeongin, who’s smiling from ear to ear. Changbin really can’t believe his friend’s boldness and straightforwardness, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you. He knows you know what Jeongin meant, so what’s the meaning behind your words? Does this means what he think it means?

“We can help you, if you want.”

“Jeongin-ah!” Changbin nearly shouts.

“What?” Jeongin furrows his eyebrows, looking at Changbin as if he just said the most normal thing in the world. “She said she’s comfortable with us, and we both think she’s hot!”

Changbin blushes even more as he mentally takes note to punch Jeongin for that comment, even though he does think you’re hot.

But then, you say - “Alright.”

And when he finds himself in your bedroom, back and shoulders against the headboard as he sits on the mattress, you in his arms, your back against his naked chest, Changbin finds it pretty hard to hate his younger friend for bringing up the subject. You’re in your tank top, not wearing a bra, and your pajama bottoms are lying somewhere on your bedroom floor. You’re not wearing your sexiest panties, but neither Changbin nor Jeongin seem to care.

“We need to get you nice and relaxed for us first, is that okay?” Changbin asks you, running the pads of his fingers up and down your naked arms. You nod, welcoming in his touch.

“Tell us what you want us to do.” Jeongin whispers, his cold, veiny hands on your thighs, making you shiver under his touch. “Tell us what you like, how you want to be touched,” two of his fingers climb all the way from your ankle to the back of your knee, and it makes you get goosebumps all over your skin, “where…”, he bites his lip when his fingers brush your inner thigh, so close to your most sensitive spot, yet so far away.

“I like, uh…”, you start speaking, but you’re distracted by Changbin’s delicate touch, now on your hips. “Dirty talk.”

“Dirty talk?” Jeongin raises one eyebrow at you, intrigued by your confession. “We can do that, am I right, Bin-hyung?”, he then smirks, glancing quickly at his friend. You can’t see Changbin biting his lips, but you can surely feel him nodding from behind you. “Anything else?”

For a second there, you consider not opening up to them, but that’s not the whole purpose of tonight. Tonight you’re supposed to let go, forget your inhibitions and abandon yourself to the pleasure Changbin and Jeongin are here to provide you.

“My… nipples. I like when someone plays with them.”, your cheeks are slightly pink as you say the words. “And my thighs. I like kisses on my inner thighs.”

Changbin and Jeongin exchange looks quickly. Then, you feel Changbin’s hand toy with the hem of your tank top as his other fingers lightly brush your nipple over the fabric, as Jeongin places his lips on one of your calves. “Can I touch you here?”, he whispers in your ear, his voice vibrates in his chest against your back.

You nod, then lean your head back to rest your head on Changbin’s chest. “Please do.”

Changbin’s hand slips under your tank top - his fingers much warmer than Jeongin’s, it’s a pleasant sensation against your skin. Jeongin’s peppering your leg with kisses - delicate, soft, openmouthed kisses, all the way up until he brushes his lips on the back of your knee, which makes you shiver, considering it’s one of your most sensitive spots. When you whimper, he smiles against your skin.

Changbin cups your boobs with his large palms, and he’s kinda amazed by the way they perfectly fit, almost as if they were made especially for him - the perfect size for him. “You like it when Jeongin kisses you there, don’t you?” Changbin whispers huskily in your ear, which makes your toes curl. You’re about to answer, but he unexpectedly pinches one of your nipples, and you whine.

“Mh, I think you do.” Changbin chuckles, toying with your nipple, continuing to pinch it delicately, squeezing it with the pads of his fingers. “You’re such a good girl…”, the way he’s whispering in your ear is making you shiver, and you grab his forearm as you pant. “You have such pretty tits, such perfect nipples…”

Jeongin’s mouth has now reached your inner thigh, finally. A couple of inches, and his lips would be brushing directly your clothed cunt. You want nothing more than to run your fingers in his dark hair and beg him to do something, to touch you there - however, you know this is not the reason why he’s between your legs right now. They’re not here for bringing you mere pleasure - they’re here to get you as relaxed and turned on as possible, they’re here to make you lose control. So you trust them completely with your body, and let them do whatever they have in mind.

“I think she likes to be praised, hyung.” Jeongin grunts against your skin, kissing and licking the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers brushes the other. “Think she likes it when you compliment her tits.”, his teeth scrape your soft flesh delicately.

“You would too, Jeongin-ah, if you touched them.” Changbin says. “They’re so fucking… soft, and delicate, so sensitive…”, he pinches your other nipple, and you yelp. “And so responsive.”, he chuckles.

You kick your head back and close your eyes, letting go of Changbin’s forearm to fist the sheets beneath you when Jeongin’s kisses move a bit closer to your pussy, a wet patch clearly visible on the thin, pastel material of your panties.

“She likes it when you kiss her there, Jeongin-ah.” Changbin tells his friend. “Her heart is beating so fast right now. Maybe we should give her what she wants.”, he suggest, but Jeongin shakes his head, his bangs tickling your skin.

“Mhh, not yet, hyung.”, his nose brushes your clothed labia as he presses an openmouthed kiss on your groin, and you choked on air. “Just a little bit more.” Jeongin chuckled, satisfied.

Changbin nods, hands still on your boobs, index toying with your nipples delicately, teasing you - your panties are now entirely soaked. Breathing heavily, your fingers finally find their way in Jeongin’s hair.

“Neck.”, you pant. Before either of them could ask you what you mean by that, you elaborate. “I like it- no, I love it when someone kisses my neck. I’m so sensitive there.”, you let out an exasperating whine, and Changbin nearly moans, too. You sound so desperate, it’s driving him crazy. By now, he’s sure you can feel his hard member against your back, but he can’t really help it - he’s so fucking turned on by this.

“Oh, so you…” Changbin’s nose brushes your jawline, and you shiver. “You want me to kiss you… here?”, he continues, before placing his lips on the side of your neck. You fist the sheets harder, knuckles turning white.

“Fuck, hyung, she’s soaked.” Jeongin comments, furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip at the sight of the big, wet patch on your panties, much larger than before. “I can smell her arousal- fuck, it’s driving me crazy.”

Changbin grunts, licking the skin of your neck, squeezing one of your boobs just a bit harder in his hand. “Fuck, baby, you really like this, huh?”, he sucks delicately, he surely won’t leave a mark. Too bad, you kinda want him to. “You like having two men touching this perfect body, don’t you? You like driving both of us crazy?” He pinches your nipple once more, and you can’t help but think of how much you’d want him to wrap his plump, soft lips around your sensitive bud.

You don’t respond. Instead, you spread your legs even wider, granting Jeongin a better access to your groin, where his face is buried - his lips still licking, sucking, kissing your soft flesh.

“Take it off.”, you pant, eyes still closed, head spinning.

“Take off what?” Jeongin grunts, then licks a long stripe on your groin. It makes you gasp, and your legs shake involuntarily.

“Top, panties. Everything.”, you nearly grunt exasperatedly.

“You heard that, Jeongin-ah?” Changbin asks, letting go of your boobs only to start fidgeting with the hem of your tank top, lifting it slowly, revealing your naked stomach. “Our pretty girl wants to get naked for us. She wants us to undress her…” Changbin chuckles, kissing you on the cheek. “Lift your arms, baby, let me take this off. Show those pretty tits to Jeongin, I’m sure he can’t wait to see them.”

You lift your arms just like he asked, and he wastes no time in delicately pulling the thin piece of clothing off of your body, letting your naked breasts bounce free, before tossing your tank top somewhere in your room. You hear him groan from behind you at the sight of your naked boobs, perfect nipples on full display for him to see, for him to touch.

“Fuck, you’ve really got the prettiest tits.” Changbin starts to lick and kiss your neck once again, then cups your breasts with his hands. “You turn me on so much, oh God.” A gasp escapes Jeongin’s lips as soon as his eyes take in the sight of your boobs - Changbin’s hands all over them, his fingers on your nipple.

“Fuck-, lift you hips.” Jeongin instructs, hooking his fingers on each side of your panties. “Let me take these off, let me see your pretty pussy.”

He slides them off easily, dragging them over the curve of your ass, slowly revealing your naked cunt to his eyes - clit swollen and lips glistening with your arousal, incredibly wet. As soon as his eyes take in the sight, he can’t help but think it’s going to be insanely easy to make you squirt, considering how much you’re turned on now.

“You have no idea…” Jeongin mutters, licking his lips. “No idea - how bad I want to kiss your beautiful clit and lick that pretty hole of yours right now.”, he grunts.

A smile spreads on your face, and you open your eyes. You drop your gaze on Jeongin, who’s staring at your pussy. “Make me squirt and I’ll let you. Both of you.”

Jeongin swears under his breath, and Changbin bites on your naked shoulder. Hard, with a grunt.

“How do you want us to do this?” Jeongin asks, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You sigh as Changbin resumes licking the skin of your neck, alternating soft kisses with delicate bites. “I don’t… I don’t know.”, you’re cut off by a choked moan. “Do whatever you want. I trust you, both of you.”

Changbin and Jeongin exchange looks once more.

“Can I finger you while Changbin-hyung plays with your clit? Is that alright?”

“Yes. Fuck-, yes. Please.”

Changbin hums against your skin, then places another kiss on your neck. “We’re gonna make you feel so, so good, baby.” You choke on air at the pet name that leaves Changbin’s lips. One of Changbin’s hands lets go of your boob, then travels all the way down your stomach, then your abdomen, until it reaches your navel.

Right before he could touch your bare pussy, he pulls away his fingers. You’re about to whine and complain, but then you see him brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck them for me.” Two of his fingers enter your mouth, and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them gladly, humming against the skin of his digits as you coat them in your spit. “Good fucking girl.”, he grunts, pulling his wet fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Now I’m gonna touch your clit, okay?”

You nod vigorously. A gasp leaves your parted lips when his fingers finally touch you right on your swollen, sensitive clit. Jeongin, in the meantime, starts to caress your naked legs, all the way from your ankles to your knees. He decides to wait a little more before pushing his fingers inside of you, wanting for you to get adjusted to Changbin’s touch first.

Changbin starts to rub gentle circles on your sensitive bud while still playing with your nipple with his other hand. He must’ve done this countless of times, because he’s insanely good at it, and you can already feel the familiar warm sensation building up in your stomach.

“Fuck, hyung, you should see this- she’s clenching so fucking hard around nothing.” Jeongin licks his lips, kneeling between your legs but not daring to move his gaze from your naked cunt. “I think she’s close.”, he grins, his slender fingers brushing your inner thighs.

And then… Changbin removes his fingers. You think you could genuinely cry. You open your eyes, and quickly turn your head to look at Changbin with a shocked expression on your face. He simply chuckles. “I can’t let you cum, not yet. Jeongin hasn’t touched you yet, it wouldn’t be fair to him.” He kisses your temple, then his gaze shifts to Jeongin, and he nods. “Your turn.”, he tells him.

Sneaky bastard.

It’s now Jeongin’s turn to chuckle, as his fingers get closer and closer to your groin. Then, the tips of his digits finally brush your wet folds, collecting some of your arousal on his pads. “Now relax for me. I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise. I’m very good with my fingers.”, he smiles cockily.

Jeongin looks you in the eye as one of his fingers penetrates you, parting your folds and sinking in your wet heat. You wrap your fingers around Changbin’s wrist, gripping tight. “It feels good, right?” Changbin whispers in your ear, and you clench around Jeongin’s finger.

“Fuck, she’s so tight, hyung.” Jeongin moans, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. “I almost can’t move my finger, fuck. So tight, and wet, and warm…” He continues to thrust his digits before he decides it’s time to add another.

A second finger slips in easily, and another choked sound leaves your mouth. He pumps both fingers inside of you for a while, giving you enough time to adjust to his fingers moving in and out of your wet heat. Then, almost unexpectedly, he bends said fingers, and starts his quest: finding your g-spot.

It only takes him a couple of attempts before he succeeds, the pads of his fingers brushing the soft, spongy spot inside of you, rubbing it a couple of times to stimulate it. A couple of swear words fall from your lips as he keeps on rubbing you there, applying a light pressure on that sensitive spot inside of you, which makes your eyes widen as you feel something you’ve never felt before.

Jeongin’s head snaps up to look at Changbin, and when their eyes meet, the younger simply nods. Changbin uses his own spit to coat his fingers this time, then places them back on your clit. “Now all you have to do is relax.” Jeongin tells you.

“Take a deep breath and empty your head. Not a single thought has to be in there, alright?” Changbin whispers in your ear. “No worries…”, one rub on your clit, “no holding back…”, another rub. “Just pleasure.”, a kiss on your neck. You clench around Jeongin’s fingers.

“Relax.” Jeongin repeats, still stimulating your g-spot relentlessly, adding a bit more pressure. “And when you feel like you’re about to cum… just let go. It’s going to be good, I promise.”

You think you’re being already stimulated enough by Changbin’s fingers rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit and Jeongin’s on your g-spot - but then, you feel Changbin’s lips on your neck, and his fingers pinch your nipple. it’s making your head spin, as your chest falls and rises quickly as you pant heavily. The knot you’re starting to feel in your stomach is something you haven’t felt before, not this way.

“You like it when I play with your pretty clit as Jeongin fucks you with his fingers?” Changbin grunts in your ear, drawing tighter circles on your clit. You nod, kicking your head back as you struggle to breathe properly, tightening your grip around Changbin’s wrist. “You’re so fucking dirty, letting two men play with your cunt. Dirty girl.”

“Changbin.”, you whine.

“Shhh…” Changbin shushes you. “Don’t talk, just feel.”

You’re already feeling. In fact, you’re feeling so much you think you’re about to fucking explode right now. You’re so close to your release in a way you’ve never felt before - they’re touching you in ways you’ve never experienced, in places you were never able to reach, and they don’t seem to be bothered at all by the fact their pleasure is being completely neglected. You’ll make sure to take care of both of them after this.

“Okay,” Jeongin starts, as he begins to apply more pressure on your g-spot in a way that has you seeing stars, “when you feel like you’re about to let go, remember: don’t fight it. Don’t worry about a single thing, me and Bin-hyung are fucking loving this.”

Changbin nods, placing a kiss on your jawline. “He’s right, we’re so loving this.”

When you feel like you’re about to cum, though, you can’t help but clench a bit harder, doing the exact opposite of letting go - you suppress it. Jeongin, however, notices it. “Ah, ah, don’t. Relax. Breathe. You’re safe, it’s just us.”, he places his other hand on your inner thigh, soothingly caressing your soft skin.

Tears well up in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”, you mumble, looking at him disappointed in yourself for ruining this, but he shakes your head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. We’ll get you there again, don’t worry.”, he reassures you.

Changbin thinks he knows the secret to help you empty your head and lose control. Maybe dirty talking to you can be the solution. He places a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so fucking hot like this, all naked, legs spread for us…” he whispers, as he keeps on rubbing your clit.

You’re starting to feel it again - the knot in your stomach, as your toes begin to curl, your breath gets heavier. Jeongin doesn’t stop applying pressure on your g-spot just like Changbin doesn’t stop rubbing your sensitive clit - and sooner than later, your legs start to shake. You’re close, so close - already seeing white as you kick your head back against Changbin’s chest, clenching your jaw.

“Yeah, like that. Good girl, cum for us, fucking soak our fingers.” Changbin moans in your ear, then pinches your nipple. “Show us what that pretty pussy can do, fucking cum for us.”

It’s the last push you needed, before you feel it. You’re cumming, but it’s different than all of the other times, it’s a different orgasm, and your release practically gushes out of you, almost as if it’s out of your control. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m cumming- Jeongin, Changbin, I’m cumming. Oh, God.”, you whine pathetically, as your release coats Jeongin’s wrist and forearm, soaking the sheets beneath you as you clench incredibly tight around his fingers.

It feels like hours, but it’s probably been a few seconds. However, your legs don’t stop shaking for a while, even though your orgasm already washed all over you and is practically over. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, your heart in your throat, and you feel absolutely spent, as if all the energy you had in your body had magically vanished. The two men immediately stop moving their fingers.

“Fucking hell.” Jeongin and Changbin mutter in unison, as they take in the sight before their eyes. Sheets completely soaked in your arousal, together with Jeongin’s skin.

“It was the hottest fucking thing ever.” Jeongin mutters, admiring how your release coats his fair, glistening skin. His arm is a bit sore, but it’s definitely worth it.

“You were so good to us…” Changbin kisses your temple, enveloping you in a tight hug as he rests his forehead against your naked shoulder - his hard-on still poking your ass. Jeongin, too, is hard in the confines of his black boxers.

You can’t wait to return the favor.

It takes you a while to finally regulate your breathing and come off of your high, heartbeat much more regular now, and even though you feel a bit sore already, you think you can go another round, or maybe a couple more. They’re a bit surprised when they see you kneel on the bed between them. You motion for Changbin and Jeongin to do the same.

You let your hands travel all the way to their toned chests to their stomachs, until you reach the waistbands of their boxers. They both hiss when you palm their cocks over the think fabric of their underwear, but it’s nothing compare to the grunts they let out when you slip your hands under the waistbands and actually wrap your fingers around their heavy cocks.

And by the way you’re looking at both of them they know you’re just getting started.

⛲︎

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funnyoldworld-isnt-it · 5 months

Text

There are so many posts about the weirdness around Nina and Maggie, but the thing that has always bothered me the most is that both of them know Aziraphale but neither one of them seems to know Crowley. Like, at ALL. Not even by sight. Which doesn’t make any sense. For the last four years, Crowley has basically been unemployed and homeless (this sentence made me so sad to type). He has had literally NOTHING to do except hang out at Aziraphale’s bookshop. And the vibe at the beginning of s2 is that he’s there a LOT. Like, multiple times per week (“we both get plenty of use out of it, don’t we”). When Aziraphale calls him in the first episode, he says “2 minutes” the way you tell your spouse how long until you’re home from the grocery store, especially if you were on your way home already.

The dialogue goes to great lengths to highlight that Nina and Maggie SHOULD know Crowley, which just heightens the weirdness of it. When they're at the pub, Crowley asks Aziraphale, “What’s wrong with the cafe?” (implying they usually go to the cafe), but Aziraphale made a point of introducing Crowley to Nina in the first episode. And Nina makes a point of saying to Maggie that she always remembers “the regulars," but she doesn't seem to remember Crowley. Of course, she immediately notices both Jim and Muriel outside the bookshop, so she's clearly paying attention to what's happening in the neighborhood and it seems like she couldn't have failed to spot him coming and going all the time.

And Maggie's situation is even weirder. Her whole back story is that she basically grew up IN the bookshop because her grandmother’s record store was essentially in a corner of the bookshop. And yet, when Maggie and Nina see Crowley on the street right before the lightning strike, Nina says, “Do you see that bloke? Six shots of espresso and he's smoking,” and Maggie responds, “I think that man was just struck by lightning.” Which is something you say about someone you’ve never laid eyes on before. She didn’t say, “Oh, that’s Mr. Fell’s friend,” or “I’ve seen him around. He stops by Mr. Fell’s shop a lot.” And then when he comes back, "It's him. The one who was just struck by lightning. The six shots of espresso." Again, no flash of recognition of anything before the current day. This happens immediately after she's just told Nina about knowing Aziraphale since she was little. It’s just weird. Why build a back story that would put her in extremely close proximity to Crowley LITERALLY her entire life and then write dialogue that makes it clear she's never laid eyes on him before?

You could maybe think, well they're just so used to having to hide...but then I asked myself: Does it make sense that the day that you find out there is an extremely dangerous, existence-threatening problem hiding out in your ineffable husband's bookshop is also the day that you would decide to STOP keeping a low profile and start wandering the streets with abandon, introducing yourself to all the local shopkeepers, and ferrying large plants into and out of said bookshop? No. No, it does not.

In any other show, you could assume that the writers just didn’t think about it very carefully. But, given the layers and layers of meaning and symbolism baked into every detail of this show, from the dialogue, to the costuming, the set design, lighting, blocking, etc., and the way that the story folds back on itself again and again, it just feels significant.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #nina #maggie #maybe she's a kobold #kidding #mostly

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twilightcitysky · 7 months

Text

Courtship

“Crowley, come in! I was just redecorating.”

“Really? You never redecorate. Last change you made was in 1860, when you had the plumbing installed.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “After everything that happened, I started thinking things over,” he said tenderly. “We almost lost the bookshop, but here it is, good as new. We almost lost the world, and… and now that we didn’t, I want to make some changes. I think it’s time.”

Crowley frowned. “Here, have you got something in your eye? You keep blinking.”

Aziraphale stopped trying to flutter his eyelashes. “I’ve painted the back room,” he said eventually, in a more normal tone of voice. “Would you like to see?”

He headed towards the door without waiting for an answer and pushed it open. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. Very nice. I might’ve gone with a warm gray, or maybe mother-of-pearl… but yellow’s good too.”

“I happen to like this particular shade of yellow,” Azirphale said, a trifle testily. “Very much.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Hey, it’s your bookshop. Are you ready for lunch?”

“What’s this?”

“They’re flowers. Roses, dahlias, and a few Peruvian lilies.”

"What do they do?"

Aziraphale, holding out the intricately beribboned, carefully wrapped and above all expensive display from the most exclusive florist in London, began to feel a bit awkward. "They… smell nice, I suppose? And they can brighten up a room."

Crowley peered over his glasses. "Sure, for a little while. But they're cut, see?" He touched the bottom of the bouquet, as if Aziraphale perhaps hadn't noticed. "They'll die in a week."

“I suppose. I thought you might–”

“Is this more redecorating? I can help with that, no problem. Listen, why don’t I get rid of these for you… and if you’re wanting something for the bookshop, we’ll get a nice rubber plant to put under the window.”

Aziraphale sighed.

“Oi, angel! Think you dropped something!” Crowley jogged to catch up with him and put the matte black box, which he’d left on the seat of the Bentley, back into his hands.

“Ah. Actually, you see… that was for you.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. “In case you got peckish,” he added lamely.

“This fancy stuff? Men break into bedrooms at midnight to leave this kind of chocolate next to pillows. Saw it in an advert.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Would you like me to break into your bedroom?” he asked, a tad breathlessly.

Crowley laughed. “What for? Listen, why don’t you have these. You’ll appreciate ‘em more than I will.”

“Are you ready to go?” Crowley glanced at his watch.

“Just one more thing. I. Er. I-thought-you-could-wear-this,” Aziraphale said in a rush. “If you like.”

Crowley took the velvet box from his trembling hand.

He opened it. “It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s very sparkly.” Crowley held the ring up to the light.

“It’s a diamond,” Aziraphale said desperately. “A diamond ring.”

“Oh. And you’re givin’ it to me because…”

“I–” Aziraphale stopped. He searched Crowley’s face, looking for a flicker of understanding. “My dear, I would like–”

“Oh wait, let me guess. It’s for your magic act, right? Are you practicing palming again, or is this the sort of ring that squirts ink when you twist the jewel?” Crowley pulled curiously at a glittering stone the size of his thumbnail. “Happy to help if you need an assistant. Just no more bullet tricks, okay?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Yes,” he replied dully. “My magic act. Yes. Exactly. I’m trying to make something appear.”

“Got it in one!” Crowley gave him a pleased grin. “I know you so well, angel.”

“I daresay you do.”

Aziraphale followed him out to the car. There’s nothing else for it, he thought. I’ll have to throw a cotillion ball.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfiction #good omens ficlet #Aziraphale #Crowley #Aziraphale is TRYING #crowley is as dense as a lump of teak that is canon #humor #silly fluff

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bettysupremacy · 4 months

Note

HI oh my goodness i just flashed through ur entire page (its LOVELY writing) and i desperately need more!! I noticed the lack of Remus request so here i am B)

OKAY could I request plot for before remus and the reader are together? Like how they came to be ^^ mm maybe like "coincidentally" him running into her at her favorite bookstore or coffee shop (ITS CLICHE IM SORRY BUT I LOVE THESE LOCATIONS) until he finally asks her on a date !! (and maybe his friends spying on him just becuase hehe)

thank uu

HELLO I appreciate the support and there definitely is a lack of Remus. It’s cliche BUT CUTE! thank you for the request babe!!

“But I can’t just.. talk to her.”

“Why not?” James deflates. “Girls love that!”

They sit at a tiny table, in a tiny bookshop, in an even tinier cafe built in. The air crackles with cedar wood and vanilla, swirling around his hazy mind. It’s cozy and intimate but he has no place to put his legs, he sits awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously. It accidentally hits the table. Sirius flinches from his mug.

“I’ll scare her.”

“Well then,” Sirius stirs his coffee. “don’t be weird.”

They came to study- or rather Remus came to study and his shadows came along. It’d been fine at first, computer out, a quiet Sirius. But Sirius has never had the patience to play quiet for long, especially when James is near.

“Maybe I’ll just leave it..” Remus murmurs.

Two voices shout at him. “No!”

Remus flinches mouthing sorry to the people around him. Sorry students he’d burdened with his rowdy friends. Hands to a sticky table, he pushes up. “M’Kay, I’m going.”

His feet feel heavy. He wants to do this, he wants your number, but god he doesn’t want to do this. Rejection is enough, but rejection in front of his two best friends? Looking back at his table, James encourages him. Two thumbs up and a hopeful face.

“Oh, shit!”

He’s crashed into you.

“Oh,” you startle, stumbling.

James and Sirius sink into their seats behind you. “Wow.”

Remus stabilizes you. “M’so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off.

“No seriously, shit, I’m sorry.”

You laugh, high and sweet. “I’m fine. At least there wasn’t coffee.”

“Has that happened?”

“Yes,” you breathe a laugh, dusting off your pants nervously. “before an interview.”

“That’s awful.” He’s genuine.

“It was kinda,” you ease. “they weren’t nearly as nice or attractive as you.”

He swallows. He thinks your pretty, very pretty. His eyes catch on your lips, your eyelashes. That’s a weird thing to notice, right? Eyelashes? He’s usually smoother than this, he wishes he was smoother than this. He’s embarrassed.

You flatten over his doubts like you can read his mind. “I’m clumsy, we can say this was my fault.”

“Noble.”

You shrug. “It’s not far from the truth.”

“Not very chivalrous of me.” He laughs a little.

“It’s okay,” you’re comforting, he likes that. “Did you need something over here?”

He scratches his neck, speaking before he can himself.

“Do you wanna,” he doesn’t know what to say. He started the sentence and backed out too late, but you stand there with patient eyes. He swallows a whine. “I’m usually a lot smoother than this, yanno?”

You laugh unabashed. “It’s okay.”

“Falling on you like a building threw me off, I’m sorry.”

“Let’s start over?” You ask. “What’s your name?”

“Remus.” He sounds a little more confident. “I was over there,” he points to James and Sirius who wave. “and I thought you were pretty, would you wanna get drinks sometime?”

You hold back a laugh at the formality of it all. “Yes, do you have a cell?”

“Yes.” He breathes, pulling out his small phone decidedly. He doesn’t rarely use it, ‘cept for plans. Skipping past texts from James, Sirius, Lily.. etc, he opens the little contacts icon. He doesn’t ignore them purposely, he just prefers to call.

“Here,” you smile, taking the phone from him gently. “this is where you can reach me if you want to buy me another cookie.”

He looks down, he hadn’t noticed the fallen treat.

“Don’t” you start firmly with an easy smile. “say sorry.”

He laughs, holding back another sorry. “I’m free tomorrow.”

“Perfect.” you reach down to point at the pen in his pocket. “Can I see that?”

He nods, pulling out the pen for you. It’d been abandoned at the same time he’d realized studying was no hope. His fingers brush against yours as he gives it to you, but you don’t let his hand far. Gently grabbing it, you look up at his confused eyebrows for a confirmation. A gentle can I?

“Oh,” he breathes, nodding. “go ahead.”

You take the pen to his skin and work the ballpoint over the rough surface. The ink bleeds into him as you write the address. You notice his scars, jagged deep tissue, and ignore them. His ears heat up. “Really good drinks here,” you explain “and next to a bakery.”

A laugh stumbles out of his lips before he can stop it and you look up to grin. “Noted.”

Letting his hand go, you watch him bring the scribble up to his eyes to read it. It’s messy but he thinks that has something to do with his scars rather than you.

“Time?” Remus asks, and you grab his hand again, writing a messy 8PM under your other ink marks. “I’ll uh see you there.”

“Perfect.”

He turns to walk, almost immediately turning back and grabbing your arm quickly. “Wait, what’s your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Remus.”

“I know.” You laugh.

He knows you’re not laughing at him, but he cringes anyway as he walks back, heavy with embarrassment, triumphant with the thrill of a date. the boys pat his back when he sits down.

“Poor thing.” Sirius consoles.

James scoffs. “He got the date!”

“But still,” Sirius sulks. “that was embarrassing.”

Remus glares. “Thanks.”

“Well go on,” James starts. “show us the writing.”

Remus sticks out his hand for the boys to see. They hum mildly, looking at him with approval. “Nice bar.” Sirius nods.

“Next to a bakery.” James affirms.

“I, uh,” Remus scratches the back of his neck. “made her drop her cookie.”

“You dickhead.” Sirius laughs.

“I didn’t mean to!”

He slumps in his chair as James hits Sirius. They argue, petulantly and boyish, and Remus looks away. You stand at the register buying a book he doesn’t remember you holding when he’d knocked into you. Smiling at the cashier you grab your change and the bag of goods you bought. He feels weird watching. This has got to be weird, right? But as you walk out, you glance to him, lifting your hand up to your ear during the doorbell chime.

Call me.

#remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus fluff #remus lupin fic #remus fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x you #remus x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus x y/n #marauders fanfic #marauders comfort #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fluff

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