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chaedomi · 8 months

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JEWEL OF OBELIA

SUMMARY . to them you were a jewel, precious and highly valuable. they, in turn, will express their strong emotions toward you, even if it means resorting to... more hostile methods.

CHARACTERS . ATHANASIA / CLAUDE DE ALGER OBELIA

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female reader, platonic, ooc, violence, death, suicide, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.7k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . why have all the readers in my manhwa fics originally died so far... anyway, can you tell where i started losing motivation?

IN THE novel, Lovely Princess, the story went like this. True to its title, the book contained Lovely Princesses. There was The First Princess, akin to the moon, who held a gloomy and foggy disposition. Then came The Second Princess, resembling the sun, bright and cheery. And finally, The Third Princess, similar to the stars, was reserved but gentle and a source of comfort.

You were… The First Princess’s younger half-sister. Although your mother was unknown (you were found inside a basket in the gardens crying) those jeweled eyes and your uncanny appearance close to The Emperor were solid proof that you were in fact of royal blood. It was… certainly strange to learn that the book entailed you as an 'unimportant' character. While The Second Princess was adored by the whole continent, the love the people harbored for you, The Third Princess, could put The Second Princess to shame. They treated you as though you were some supreme gift bestowed from the heavens, to be treasured and pampered. And among those who glorified you… was your father, The Cold-Hearted Emperor. You were like The Protagonist more than The Second Princess could ever be.

You were also… the best sister anyone could ask for to The First Princess. Because The First Princess was deprived of affection in her life, she mostly relied on you to fill the gaps in her heart. And you endearingly did so, trying your best to shine a light inside her darkness. It soon became that you both were inseparable, attached by the hip.

…So, obviously, you will spiral down into despair over The First Princess's death. You knew The First Princess was innocent of The Second Princess's poisoning. She was simply too sweet to commit a vile act, especially when she too took a liking to The Second Princess. But, alas, your reasoning went through one ear and out the other, and without proper evidence, your father executed The First Princess.

However, just as The Emperor's wrath was not to be underestimated, so was the extent of your grief as you promptly took away your life hours after The First Princess's execution. And that was the sad ending of your story, The Third Princess.

HOW WAS THAT ANY FAIR??? The confusion of the roles and the cheesy plotline were already bad enough on their own, but your unnecessary death pretty much destroyed the chances of her leaving a positive review. Was it done to reestablish the fact you were an unimportant character, or to remind everyone that The Second Princess is the original best girl in the story…? No amount of copious explanations can ever make ATHANASIA understand the validation for your death.

What she can come to understand however is that you, out of all people, did NOT deserve to die. You had all the rights to receive a happy ending just like The Second Princess… and that is what she aspired to make a reality as she was tossed into the fantasy world of the novel. It was obvious that it all went to hell when The First Princess was executed at the hands of The Emperor. So, in order to avoid your death, she will have to avoid hers first.

A genius plan, she dubbed it, stealing various riches from the Ruby Palace to live the rest of her life on as she escapes. She also thought of the brilliant idea of taking you along with her, after all, being inside the palace is kind of… the reason for your death, was it not!? Why not avoid the source altogether!? Or… that is what was supposed to happen before she accidentally stumbled across The Emperor four years early. Now, she will have to scrap that genius plan. Damn…

On a bright note, as time passed, using an alternative plan, Athanasia eventually evaded all chances of earning death at the hands of her father. This means that you too won’t have a pitiful ending as you originally did! Yay!

You truly didn’t deserve to die, and Athanasia will keep on saying it as much as needed. The years she spent beside you as your sister, further strengthened her motivation to keep you alive. She also understood why The First Princess had a strong attachment toward you. Innocent, Pure, Patient, Merciful, and Kind… who wouldn’t swoon over a person with such admirable traits? What struck her heart the way it did, was your affection. In her previous life, Athanasia… didn’t have people around her to provide her with love.

So, it surprised her a lot when it happened. Sure, she had love from her Nanny and the rest of the maids, but yours had her heart pumping, energy rushing through her veins. It was warm… a feeling she wanted to cling to for an eternity. Was it silly that she felt envious of a fictional character? To think that The First Princess was subjected to this kind of treatment from you… How did it feel to live her dream? Not that it matters anymore. Now, she can have you to all herself! You wouldn’t mind if she got a little… greedy, right? Of course, you won’t! After all, if you learned of her tremendous effort to keep you safe, why wouldn’t you reward her with more of your presence? What she does is in your favor. So, don’t get too upset if what she does seems a bit extreme, alright? It’s all for your benefit.

Betrayal can hurt. But, betrayal stings when it comes from the person you trusted and loved the most. You didn’t understand why it had upset her more than it upsetted you. More so, if she was so against the idea, why hadn’t she said so first? She was supportive about it too, choosing to help pick out a perfect disguise for your outing in the town. So why was it that on the day you were about to leave, lo and behold, there was your father by your doorway, inclusive of his knight… and your sister beside him, smiling triumphantly? Maybe if you had paid attention to how the shine left your sister’s eyes as you told her of your plan, you could have avoided such a dreadful punishment.

What bugged you the most was how Athanasia carried out her day normally, and acted sweetly to you, as if she didn’t partially contribute to the punishment of breaking your legs. Today was no different, as she sat on the chair beside your bed rambling on about her day. “You know, that’s the most I’ve seen Daddy upset.” She laughed, tracing her finger down your legs. “Usually, he would never dream of even hurting a strand of your hair. What you’ve done was really bad…”

She smiled at you, her jeweled eyes looking all the more terrifying under the dark lighting in your room. “I don’t understand. I should feel despaired seeing my sister in so much pain. Why does it bring me so much relief?” She sighed, holding one of your hands in hers. “...You scared me terribly with what you told me earlier. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the many possibilities that would arise with you out there. Even worse, what if they learned of your true identity, and an enemy nearby attacks you?”

“I agreed with your plan, solely to avoid trouble. If I said no, you would have avoided me, right? I… don’t ever want to see you in danger, or place you in it, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Not like anything like that will happen anytime soon!” She gently poked your injured legs. “I will help ensure that too.” You didn’t realize that the tears building in your eyes began to fall, your sister’s fingers quickly working to wipe them away.

In the novel, CLAUDE naturally favored you more than The First Princess. Upon your first encounter during the festival on The First Princess’s ninth birthday, with an outstretched hand, he escorted you back to the party, leaving your older sister in the dust. You lived a rather lavish life after that, him spoiling you with exquisite goods. So, it’s not like you had to form some extreme plan like Athanasia to protect yourself from the dangers that lurked inside the palace. Everyone here adored you…

Yet, not only did Athanasia’s interference with the plotline create many changes for her, but it also resulted in triggering unsettling events for you. Now that The Cold-Hearted Emperor has learned to display affection for the firstborn he originally detested, where would that place you, the daughter he always loved?

…His methods were very much frightening, even traumatizing, you may add. The numerous times you witnessed something gruesome to the eye, for the littlest offenses toward you. He would imprison, he would murder, he would execute, all in your name. His presence too, was very much suffocating, more than Athanasia, and that spoke volumes.

You hated how they both attached themselves to you, but, if you had to choose, you would pick Athanasia in a heartbeat. For the cold jeweled eyes that scrutinized every movement you made were too much for your poor heart to endure. It was as though he was waiting, waiting for your slip-up, to gain a perfect reason to permanently confine you behind the walls of your bedroom. And you fear… that the day you kissed your freedom goodbye was approaching quicker than you initially anticipated.

“What will it take for you to treat me as normally as the rest?” the (h.c) haired girl wept, clutching on tightly her father’s robes. “Shall I become like my sister, Athanasia? If I do… will I become like a free bird, and be granted more privileges?” grief-stricken jeweled eyes peered up at her father. “Will you finally release me from the shackles you trapped me in?”

“Do what you want,” her father smirked. but, as quickly as her hope came so was it shattered. the piercing concept. his voice in her ears was the cruelest of them all. “Such a thing won’t happen till the day I perish.” what a terrible vow. she knew he would do anything in his power to maintain his promise. and so, the deepest of despair like never before flooded her eyes. what have you done to receive this…?

you were very precious. nothing, not even the rarest pieces in the world could be compared to you; you were the highest value among them all. for all, it was a high requirement to treat you with the utmost importance and respect. yes, to them, to everyone, you were, the jewel of obelia.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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flowerandblood · 22 days

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The Fall from the Heavens (21)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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When she woke up in her chamber the sun was already slowly setting behind the walls of the Red Keep. She muttered under her breath in displeasure, twisting in her place, feeling discomfort in her lower abdomen and looked down, feeling a wave of disappointment and pain once again.

She sighed heavily, putting aside the already cold purse of water that had brought her great relief and allowed her to sleep for a few hours. Although she was distraught and terrified, the thought of her uncle's reaction and behaviour towards her made a warm, pleasant feeling spill over her heart.

She smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if he had just been at the Small Council meeting and would be back soon.

It wasn't long when the door to her chamber opened, and a moment later her husband walked in, pale, staring at her with wide-open eye.

Her heart pounded harder in horror at that look.

"We have received your mother's demands."

The word that she wanted to see her, to speak to her, and the fact that Aegon had agreed to it at the same time filled her with joy and horror.

She missed her and longed to hear her voice again, but she did not know what her mother was planning, what she hoped to hear from her lips.

What if she believed that her daughter had married her uncle just to survive?

That her affection for him was a lie and she would stab him in the back when she got the chance?

Her husband didn't seem pleased either as the affair became more and more complicated and there seemed to be no end to it all, no solution they could reach together.

On the second morning after King sent his response, a raven arrived in the Red Keep with word that her mother had agreed to the arrangements and would indeed be waiting with her husband in the Eyrie on the appointed day to speak to her daughter and her half-brother.

Her husband had no intention of spending a single night in the Eyrie, so he just acceded to his brother's suggestion and decided that the day before the agreed date they would travel to Harrenhal. She was not delighted with this idea, having heard many unflattering opinions about her father's brother.

Word had also reached her that a witch lived behind the walls of this grim fortress.

Still, she understood her husband's caution and anxiety, so she did not defy him, demanding something else in return.

"I will fly with you on Larax."

"No."

"If my mother sees that you did not allow me to fly on my own dragon she will not believe that anything that leaves my mouth was spoken of my own free will. She will see it as an excuse to believe that I still remain to you only a prisoner." She said impatiently; her husband turned his face towards the fire, sitting on one of the chairs at the table, licking his lower lip with his tongue in a nervous gesture, frustrated.

He did not reply.

She approached him slowly and knelt beside him on the cold stone floor, taking his hand in hers, placing a warm, tender kiss on it. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he had closed his eyelids, that he was losing the battle with himself.

"Please, husband. Give me this joy."

Though reluctant, her uncle finally gave her his wordless consent, but he remained silent throughout the evening and locked himself in his mind, tense.

It didn't help that she was still bleeding.

Not wishing to cause him any discomfort with an intimacy full of these disgusting fluids, she did not attempt to touch him, and he, apparently fearing that he might cause her pain in this state, also refrained from doing so.

The carriages filled with their belongings had long since left King's Landing when she and her uncle left the walls of the Red Keep.

She could see that he was pale, looking at her with his lips pressed together, unhappy and unsure whether he was making the right decision. He sighed heavily as she touched his cheek with her soft palm.

"I will join you in the sky soon, husband. I promise." She whispered and rose on her tiptoes, placing a moist, warm kiss on his cheek exactly as she had done that day, when he ran after her. Her husband hummed under his breath at her words and moved ahead, while she turned the other way, heading for the Dragon's Pit.

At the behest of her uncle, the servants who had been taking care of their dragons since their childhood led Larax into the main cave – her dragoness squealed loudly in despair at the sight of her, her sounds reminding her of the crying of a child.

She ran to her with tears in her eyes, feeling that the sight was breaking her heart.

She had been locked away for so long, terrified and imprisoned just as she was.

"Shijetra nyke, Larax. Shijetra nyke. Lykiri (Forgive me, Larax. Forgive me. Easy)." She mumbled, reaching out to her – her dragoness tilted her head and let her touch her, pushing against her chest, showing her how much she longed for her closeness.

As she climbed into her saddle again, as she again commanded her to move ahead, to take to the skies, and as the wind and speed blew her hair away, she felt a wonderful surge of adrenaline, freedom and happiness. She soared high into the sky, commanding her to fly in the right direction.

Larax let out a loud cry, terrified, wanting to escape, when suddenly Vhagar flew over her, her mighty wings causing a wave of air to hit them.

"Lykiri, Larax! Gaomagon sagon zūgagon daor! Sōvēs! (Calm down, Larax! Do not be afraid! Fly!)" She commanded, and after a moment she managed to regain control of her, heading after the great beast towards the fortress where her father had died.

Although she knew her husband was terrified at the prospect of letting her ride her own dragon, she noticed out of the corner of her eye his silhouette and his face staring back at her, from a distance she had the impression he was smiling.

She thought with a squeeze in her heart that he must have been dreaming of this moment since they were children.

Him and her, flying side by side on their dragons.

Exactly as it should be.

Thanks to the good weather, their several-hour journey turned out to be less tiresome than she thought it would be; she felt an immense ache in her muscles after a long break from flying as soon as they landed and she dismounted from her saddle anyway.

She had to wait for her husband, who had to land on Vhagar much further away so that no houses were destroyed, therefore she allowed herself to look around, feeling that her heart was pounding like mad.

"My Lady. What a joy." She heard the voice of Larys Strong as he strode towards her through the gates of his fortress, leaning on his staff, followed by several guards and a woman who immediately caught her attention.

Her long, straight black hair, her bare shoulders, her full breasts, her slender figure and her eyes surrounded by her dark lashes, her irises having the colour of fresh, juicy grass.

She lowered her gaze, never having seen such a beautiful and mysterious woman before in her life, finally glancing at Lord Strong, realising she should say something in reply.

She had never trusted him or had a good opinion of him.

She believed he was responsible for her father's death and she didn't want to speak to him.

"My Lord Strong. Thank you for being willing to host us." She mumbled finally, forcing a warm smile, Larys Strong nodded. They all bowed as they spotted her husband approaching from the distance, his black leather coat and hair blown by the wind.

"My Prince."

"Lord Strong. Take us to our quarters." Her uncle commanded him, his voice as hoarse and shaky as hers from the emotion they had both apparently experienced while flying.

Her uncle and Larys Strong walked through the gate first and she moved to follow them, the woman who stood beside him, whoever she was, strolled a few paces behind her, her pleasant scent reaching her nostrils.

Lavender and cloves.

"We have prepared for you, my Prince, the most magnificent quarters in the entire fortress. I have no use for it anyway; I would get tired climbing all those steps every day. Nearby we have prepared rooms for your wife, I assure you −"

"No need. My wife will spend the night in my chamber." Her husband interrupted him, pulling his leather gloves from his hands, stepping inside the room, looking around with frustration and impatience.

Having been with him on a daily routine, accustomed to him conversing with her of his own accord, she had already forgotten how much he resented speaking to strangers for longer than necessary.

"As you wish, my Prince. However, I will leave the rooms I spoke of at your wife's disposal for her own convenience. I have also assigned her a servant to ensure that while we men are conversing, she will have company. There are several matters I would like to discuss with you."

She and her uncle cast quick, concerned glances at each other; her husband hit the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, furious.

She knew the expression on his face, knew he was only dreaming of rest, but they were his guests and he was not in a position to simply refuse him.

Lord Strong looked at her expectantly and her uncle nodded at her, albeit reluctantly, to leave them alone. The woman standing beside her raised her hand and indicated with a gesture where they were to go, so she set off in that direction.

The chamber her father's brother had assigned her was smaller and more modest than that of her husband's, but it had a more pleasant view from the window, straight over the forest and the clearing where her dragoness slept.

She involuntarily smiled under her breath as she pressed her palm against the glass, seeing Larax, forgetting for a moment that she was not alone.

"Do you desire to change into something…more comfortable, My Lady?" She heard a low, melodious, pleasant female voice behind her. She looked up at her and nodded.

"Yes. What do they call you?" She asked uncertainly. The woman smiled, looking at her calmly.

"Alys, my lady."

An awkward silence fell between them for a moment.

"I would not wish to… misunderstand who you are and what you have in common with Lord Strong, Alys." She said after a moment; the woman burst into a hearty, light laugh and shook her head.

"I am not his mistress. I am his relative, though I do not bear his name, as any bastard would." She replied softly, her voice gentle and full of understanding, as if she were speaking to a small child. She blinked, shocked by her words, her question leaving her lips before she had time to think what she was saying.

"Did you know my father?"

The woman looked at her for a moment before she nodded.

"Yes, my Lady."

She felt her hand clench into a fist, her heart starting to beat like mad.

"His death wasn't an unfortunate ordeal, was it?" She asked in a trembling voice, the corner of the woman's mouth lifting in a grin.

"There are no such thing as unfortunate ordeals, my Lady."

She left her enigmatic response unanswered, both intrigued and terrified of her at the same time; it seemed to her that the gaze of her luscious green eyes pierced her to the core.

"After the word has reached us here all the way from King's Landing, I have been looking forward to our meeting with impatience, and while I will admit that it is not what I expected, I am beginning to understand your husband's desperation." She spoke again with a hint of amusement from which she felt uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her words.

"What do you mean?" She muttered uneasily; the woman's gaze swept over her figure, as if assessing what she saw before her and combining it with her own conclusions in her head.

"Men are easily driven to desperation, though it usually takes time. They like to gain and take pride in what they have conquered; the greater, in their mind, the value of what they enclose in their embrace, the less they are willing to let it go." She said in a light, low, slightly dreamy voice, looking somewhere to the side, intertwining her hands in front of her.

"Your husband follows you with his thoughts even when he is not looking at you. His head, even when he is not speaking to you, is directed towards you so that he can see you out of the corner of his eye. When he feels discomfort, he involuntarily seeks your face to experience understanding and comfort."

She stared at her in disbelief, wondering if she had been able to see such a thing being in their company for just a moment, unable to hide how pleased her words made her.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her heart pounding like mad.

Alys helped her change into one of the gowns that had arrived in Harrenhal in the chests before them, her long, graceful fingers entwining her dark, long hair into an intricate bun of many braids surrounding her head.

She had never had a similar hairstyle before and she liked it very much.

Alys escorted her to the chamber where her husband and Lord Strong had just eaten supper, then bowed and left, leaving them alone. Her husband looked at her intently as she sat beside him at the table with a smile, Larys Strong cast her a look full of curiosity.

"Beautiful hairstyle, my Lady." He said softly, but she felt a sense of discomfort instead of gratitude, which, however, she did not give vent to in any way. She looked at her uncle, for some reason emboldened by the woman's words.

"And you, my husband? What do you think?" She asked softly, her uncle throwing her a calm, impassive look.

"I prefer it when your hair is loose." He merely replied, reaching for his goblet full of wine, taking a loud sip from it, setting it down on the table with a loud clinking of steel.

She felt like a silly little girl and lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her throat as an awkward silence fell around them.

What had crossed her mind to ask such foolishness?

Did he think she asked it out of vanity?

It seemed to her that her uncle regretted the coldness in which he had expressed his opinion, for before she left to prepare for sleep he reminded her that immediately when she had finished she was to appear in his chamber.

She nodded her head at his words and pressed her lips together, only in the corridor letting a few regretful, embarrassed tears run down her face.

How could she take it so personally, expect empty compliments from him when she knew perfectly well that he loathed it?

As she stepped into her chamber she asked one of the servants to summon Alys, wanting her to help her take off her gown and to prepare her hot bath.

She had no intention of going to her husband after hours of travelling on a dragon all sticky from sweat and exertion.

Alys walked into her room with a smile and bowed, approaching her, seeing that she herself had already begun to untie her bodice.

"Was the Prince pleased with his wife's appearance, my Lady?" She asked softly, and she swallowed quietly and sighed, lowering her gaze.

"Yes. Though he expressed his opinion that he prefers it when my hair is loose." She said resignedly, as if she had failed in some way by not meeting his expectations.

"Oh, that's understandable. He surely associates it with your intimacy and closeness, as any man would. The entwined curls and braids are for those around you, meanwhile the softness of your hair, the smell of them, the sight of them spread on the bed is something meant only for him." She replied lightly, as if she were speaking of something completely obvious and natural. She blinked, feeling that somehow her words comforted her.

"You know a lot about men…don't you?" She mumbled uncertainly, meeting her gaze in her reflection in the mirror, from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Yes, my Lady."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding hard at the thought.

"Have you seduced many yet?" She asked at last; the woman involuntarily giggled under her breath, finally releasing her from her gown, which fell lightly to the stone floor, leaving her in her white night gown.

Thankfully, her bleeding had almost stopped.

"Yes." She said with amusement, taking her garment in her hands and placing it gently back in one of the chests, being careful not to crumple it as she meanwhile stepped into the bath and sat in it with a sigh of relief, sinking into the hot water.

"I would like to … make my husband happy tonight. I know he needs relief from what's about to happen tomorrow. However, I can't do it, at least for now, in the way I usually do." She mumbled embarrassedly, trailing her fingers along the edge of the tub, not daring to look at her in fear that the woman would mock her.

"The easiest thing to do in that case would be for you to use your mouth." She replied with amusement, and she raised her eyes at her, shocked.

Although her husband had sunk his face between her thighs on several occasions just as he had the first night after her return to King's Landing, he had never expected her to reciprocate.

Before she could suggest anything he thrusted his manhood deep between her moist folds anyway.

The truth, however, was that even if she wanted to do it, she didn't know how.

"I'm…inexperienced in these matters." She confessed with shame, looking at her uncertainly, a smile on her face that she might have considered warm.

"I see." She murmured, approaching her slowly, startling her completely as she knelt beside her tub, gently grasping her wrist in her hand. "I can show you how you should do it, if that's what you wish, my Lady."

She swallowed hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and excitement, she licked her lower lip feeling it dry up with emotion.

"…How?"

Alys smiled, leaning towards her hand – she shuddered when her lips gently touched her finger, wondering with a fast beating heart what she was doing.

"Imagine that this is his manhood. Men don't say it out loud because pride won't let them, but they adore it when a woman showers them with gentle, tender caresses." She cooed as she closed her eyelids, running her full, moist lips up and down her pointing finger, leaving a wet trail of her saliva on it.

She looked at this sight as if enchanted, feeling an involuntary throbbing inside her imagining that she had knelt before her uncle and touched him like this.

She drew in air loudly, feeling a pleasant shiver run down her spine as the woman slipped the tip of her finger gently into her mouth, teasing it with her wet, fleshy tongue; she sighed helplessly feeling her nipples become hard, her walls clenching around nothing.

"− and then − when he begins breathing faster − when you feel he's completely ready −" She gasped softly between the brushes of her lips and suddenly slipped her whole finger into her mouth, starting to suck it unhurriedly with a quiet click of her saliva.

She didn't even notice when she began to breathe through her mouth, when her thighs clenched involuntarily under the water, seeking any kind of release of the tension that was building up inside her.

There was something so lewd and inappropriate about what she was seeing and feeling that she felt like a moan was about to come out of her throat.

She shuddered as Alys suddenly opened her eyes − a misty darkness in the green of her irises that she had often seen in her husband's gaze, her lips released her finger with a quiet click.

"− you pretty little thing − it's usually him taking care of you, isn't it? − he can't deny himself − I can't blame him −" She whispered, and she felt heat in her lower abdomen, her walls clenching greedily around nothing.

They both flinched as the door to her chamber suddenly opened, Alys stood up quickly and bowed, closing her eyes.

"My Prince."

"− get out −" She heard her husband's warning growl; she turned over her shoulder, looking at him with wide eyes, all red, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking shocked as the woman immediately left her quarters.

"− what is the meaning of this? − hm? −" He asked furiously standing over the tub as soon as the door closed behind her, fury in his eyes.

She couldn't find any meaningful answer in her head, her mind was completely blank.

Her uncle pressed his lips together in impatience, apparently trying not to explode.

"− can't I leave you alone even for a fucking moment? −" He hissed, and she shook her head, looking at him pleadingly.

"− I − I asked her for help −"

"− help with what, that she had to kneel beside you and hold your hand? − you are fucking bare −"

"− I − I can't tell you, it's embarrassing −"

"− gods, I swear I'm about to rip you to shreds −"

"− we were discussing embarrassing feminine matters − she showed me something…important − for you too −" She muttered, his jaw clenched in displeasure.

He didn't believe her.

"− I want to know what this brazen whore was doing to my wife −" He growled with an impatience so strong that she knew that if she didn't give him the answer he expected, her uncle was really about to explode and would surely knock her out along with her tub on the floor.

"− very well − I − I will try to show it to you − just − just don't get upset and sit on the bed −" She mumbled pleadingly, looking at him with her big eyes.

She saw that at her words his anger began to slowly fade, giving place to a slight intrigue in his gaze.

He hummed low and took a few steps back, as she requested, sitting down on her bed, looking at her watchfully.

She swallowed hard, rising from the tub with a loud splash of water, walking slowly out of the bath. He blinked, surprised when she sat on the floor in front of him, but with her back to him, reaching for the pins woven into her hair.

"− you have to help me, because I won't be able to do it myself until morning −" She muttered in displeasure, all heated up from the hot water her body had just been submerged in, her nightgown all soaked, clinging to her naked skin.

She heard her husband sigh heavily, leaning over her with a loud creak of the bed, sliding the pins out of her hairstyle, making the curls of her hair start to fall over her shoulders.

"− it was her idea too, wasn't it? −" He sneered disapprovingly and she let the air out of her lungs, tired.

"− I really liked the way I looked −" She burbled resentfully; she heard his heavy sigh again, however this time he answered nothing more.

When her hair was finally completely loose she turned to face him, already visibly calmer, his hand involuntarily went to her cheek, his thumb running over her soft skin.

His pupil narrowed as her fingers unfastened the buckles of his tunic and reached into the ties of his breeches, she felt his bulge beneath her palms throbbing hard.

"− what are you doing? −" He muttered uncertainly, coolly, as if terrified of what he had just imagined.

"− I want to kiss you there with my lips − are you repelled by the thought? −" She asked softly, releasing his swollen, half-hard erection, feeling him shudder as she grasped it gently in her hand, guiding it to her face.

"− what? – no − b-but − I − oh −" He gasped as she ran her lips over the pink head of his cock with a rapidly pounding heart; she felt satisfaction when his length twitched aggressively in her embrace.

She knew he wanted to say more as his mouth remained open, but he simply stared at her, breathing loudly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as she mimicked Alys's cues by running her lips from the root of his manhood to the very tip of it.

She heard him sigh in pleasure, closing his eyes for a moment, his hips involuntarily began to buck, pressing his already fully hard erection closer to her face, searching for any source of friction.

"− this − this is what she showed you? − hm? −" He gasped, as if he was simultaneously thrilled and enraged by this vision.

Not wanting him to think about it too much she used her tongue, running it up to the very top of the head of his cock, feeling the veins under his skin clearly, a low, hoarse groan stuck in his throat, his hand tightening in her hair.

"− fuck − g-gods −" He muttered in a trembling voice, his breathing increasingly shaky and accelerated – she knew he was aroused, and his sounds made her feel that unbearable, intense tickling and pulsing between her thighs again.

She was wet.

In some subconscious instinct, his hand tentatively guided the pink, swollen head of his cock against her lips, and she parted them, letting him slide between them with a loud sigh of pleasure.

"− squeeze − squeeze with your hand what doesn't fit inside − and suck − oh, yes, little one, just like that −" He exhaled delighted tilting his head back as she let him deep into her palate, his tip bumping again and again with the sure thrusts of his hips against the back wall of her throat causing her to gag, tears of exertion pooling in her eyes.

"− if this is too much − hit me twice on the thigh −" He gasped, looking down at her, and she merely nodded, clamping her hand over the base of his hard length, sucking it slowly with a loud click of her saliva.

She reminded herself about her tongue and what Alys was doing with it, so she made use of it, and every time her husband thrust his erection into her its tip teased and licked him; his two hands tightened in her hair with his low groan, quickening his pace.

"− oh − oh, fuck, little one − mghm − gods −" He panted, invading her throat with deep, fast pushes, making use of her mouth as he saw fit, a high-pitched moan erupted from her lungs as she felt him aggressively pulsing between her lips, breathing hard through her nose, trying not to suffocate.

"− I know − please, please, let me − oh, fuck, yes, swallow it, swallow, swallow, swallow −" He commanded in a shuddering gasp full of pleasure and relief. She squirmed as his hot, sticky seed spilled down her palate straight into her throat; she swallowed some of it with difficulty and coughed, trying not to choke, a pearly trickle of his spend ran off the corner of her mouth down her chin.

Good gods.

They were both panting loudly and quivering, his face pressed against her hair, on which he still clamped his fingers, not letting her escape.

"− just a moment more − please, just a moment more − so warm −" He mumbled, and she swallowed hard, breathing loudly through her nose with his half soft length deep in her throat. It seemed to her for a moment that he might have fallen asleep in that position, but eventually he took pity on her and slid out of her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.

She involuntarily put her arms around his knee, exhausted, hugging her face to his thigh, breathing hard, not believing she had really done it.

Her womanhood pulsed all over, her thighs were all sticky from her moisture.

She sighed in relief when she felt his large hand begin to stroke her hair with a tender, calm gesture, his breathing still erratic and accelerated.

"− come − come here − your husband need to take care of you −"

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 8 months

Text

Rainbows and Hospital Rooms

Based of @mindofharry 's idea of Harry being a grumpy doctor and Y/N is a new intern at the hospital :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Y/N wasn’t really sure what to expect when she walked through the revolving doors of St Thomas’ Hospital.

She’d been awake since four am, too excited about her first day as an intern. All she’d ever wanted was to help people. Before her mum passed away, she would call her a guardian angel - always around to lend a hand whenever there was trouble. Y/N believed that her mum was her guardian angel now, looking down on her in heaven. Her sweet, bubbly nature only added to her charm. She befriended everyone she met within moments, in fact Y/N was pretty sure she hadn’t met someone she hadn’t been able to win over eventually. You see, Y/N got a kick out of being kind. Whether it be letting someone ahead of her in the grocery line or sharing a coffee with the homeless man on her street, Y/N was always looking for a way to spread kindness.

Making a good first impression was extremely important to Y/N so when she realised that she’s lost in the lobby of the hospital she started to sweat a little bit. She had decided on a whim to bake some cookies for the other interns and since it had taken her longer than expected, she wasn’t early as she had planned, but instead right on time. But being right on time and being lost in the lobby meant that now she was… late. On her first day.

After asking for directions as quickly as she could, a rather flustered Y/N made her way to the correct room, opening the door quietly and turning red as 5 heads turned to stare in her direction. 4 were interns like her, she could tell. Young, most wearing a nervous expression and in casual clothes. The other person in the room was different. For one, he was standing in front of all the others, evidently leading the group in some sort of welcome. He was older, significantly when compared to the others in the room but Y/N couldn’t imagine he was older than 35. Compared to her 22 years, it was a rather large gap. His eyes were a striking shade of green and when they focused on her, Y/N didn’t like the way it made her feel. A swooping feeling in her stomach overwhelmed her and she felt the urge to leave the way she came, shut the door and go home. It might have been because the man standing before her was outrageously attractive. Quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen, with sculpted cheekbones, those eyes, a sharp nose and lips that looked so soft, Y/N almost wanted to lean in and touch them with her own just to see if they were really as soft as they looked.

Unfortunately for Y/N, accompanying all this beauty was an incredibly frustrated expression and it was directed at her.

“Miss Y/N I presume. You’re-“ the man looked down at the shiny Rolex on his left wrist. “6 minutes late. Is there a reason why you couldn’t be on time like the rest of your peers or shall we just put it down to plain disrespect?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and then closed like a fish. She was speechless.

“I’m so sorry um… sir?” She floundered for a moment, pondering what exactly to call him.

“It’s Dr Styles, to you. This isn’t military camp, although I do run a rather tight ship. Now if you would sit down, I can continue.”

“Ok, Dr Styles it is. I am SO sorry I’m late, you see I was just-

“Please, don’t explain yourself, I don’t have the energy to listen to whatever bullshit story you decided to come up with on the way here. I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat. Every moment I waste on you, is a moment I could be saving someone’s life.”

“But I just wanted to-”

“Y/N. Sit. Down.”

Y/N blinked as he stared at her expectantly, his expression growing more frustrated by the second. She walked slowly to the empty seat in the front row and sat down, feeling rather numb.

“Now, as I was saying before Miss Y/N decided to make her grand entrance, my name is Dr Harry Styles and I am the head of paediatrics here at St Thomas’.

Paediatrics? Y/N thought to herself. Oh those poor children being unwell and having to be treated by the biggest asshole on earth. She wondered whether he was just as awful to the patients or whether he had perfected his bedside manner. Probably the latter, he seemed like a perfectionist. Her daydream was interrupted as an older man and woman entered the room, dressed in similar scrubs to Dr Styles.

“Now, normally I handle all the interns myself, but since there are five of you, and my workload has grown rather heavily over the last year, I have enlisted my colleagues for some help. Dr Hannah Williams and Dr Richard Abrams.” Dr Styles explained, introducing them both. They waved and Dr Williams sent Y/N a smile and Y/N crossed her fingers and toes, hoping that she would be assigned to the nice woman with the warm smile.

“Max and Amelie you’re with Dr Abrams. Rachel and Luke, you’re with Dr Williams. And that leaves… ”

Y/N’s heart sank.

“Y/N, you’re with me. Lucky you.” He smirked at her obvious lack of enthusiasm before continuing.

“I’m sure you’re all aware that this is a 6 week internship. While I may not be directly supervising all of you, I will be observing you all closely. At the end of your period at St Thomas’ one of you will be offered a permanent position here. My advice? Do you best, and use what you know. You were all offered this internship for a reason, you’ve got the next six weeks to prove to me why you deserve to be here. Y/N come with me. Max and Amelie, Richard will show you where to go. Same for you Luke and Rachel, Hannah has you guys covered.”

Y/N gathered her things quickly as Dr Styles left the room swiftly. She trailed behind him, mustering up the courage to speak.

“Is there a reason you were so horrible to me in there?” The words left Y/N’s mouth before she could stop them and Dr Styles stopped walking abruptly in the middle of the corridor, almost causing her to face plant into his back.

“Oh grow up Y/N. Welcome to the real world. I don’t have energy to waste on people who aren’t punctual. If this is too much for you to handle, or If I’m too much for you to handle, quit. No one is stopping you.”

He waited expectantly, but Y/N was silent.

“Good. Now if you’re done with your little outburst, we have patients to see. Try not to waste my time Y/N. Most people don’t dare to talk back to me, especially on the first day. I picked you because you intrigued me and I thought I saw potential. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts going a million miles a minute. Dr Styles led her into a closed corridor, where the walls were filled with colour, shapes and animals.

“The first patient we’re going to see today is a 5 year old named Jackson. Jackson has stage 3 terminal cancer. At this stage it’s all about keeping him comfortable. He’s wary of new people, so just be gentle.”

He opened a door, and it was almost like someone had flipped a switch. The second the door had opened, Dr Styles’ face had switched from a stern expression to a wide smile. He was so pretty when he smiled, Y/N thought, before shaking it from her head and following him into the room.

“Hey little superman! How are we feeling today?” Dr Styles asked the young boy, who was lying in the bed watching a dinosaur cartoon on his iPad. Y/N’s heart broke at the number of wires and medical equipment surrounding the little boy.

“I’m bored. Can I go play outside?? Please Harry pleaseeeee.” Jackson pouted his lips at Dr Styles and Y/N suppressed a giggle. She watched him as a flicker of emotion crossed his face before he shook his head.

“Sorry not today little dude, but how about I try and get Nurse Rebecca to bring you something special later on?”

“Ok.” Jackson’s face fell as he directed his attention back to the screen. Y/N shifted slightly to the side and he looked up, making eye contact with her.

“Who’s that? Is she your girlfriend Harry? She’s very pretty.”

Y/N turned bright red and Dr Styles seemed to choke on air before spluttering out a response.

“Not my girlfriend Jackson. This is Y/N, I’m showing her what it’s like to work here.”

“Hi Jackson, it’s nice to meet you!” Y/N sent the boy a small wave and he waved back.

“We’ll come and visit you again later buddy ok?” Dr Styles ushered Y/N slowly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

They stood in silence for a moment, Dr Styles watching Jackson through the small window, a pensive expression on his face.

“He’s a really sweet kid.” Y/N spoke softly.

“He is.” Dr Styles agreed gruffly, and Y/N watched as his eyes began to mist. But as quickly as the tears had formed, they were gone and he was blinking them away and continuing down the hallway.

“Hurry up Y/N we have people to see and you know how I feel about punctuality.”

Y/N smiled softly, trailing after him. There was something there, more to Dr Styles than he was letting her see and Y/N was determined to figure him out.

A/N: Hello!! This was a super short random thing that I might continue hehe

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harrystyles #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles x fem!reader

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

You can be my daddy tonight - L. Bodecker

If you’re seeking heaven then you’ll want to come and get it.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: DADDY AND BREEDING KINK OUT THE WAHOO, age gap, size kink, crying during sex, Frottage, pnv!sex, The Great Outdoors, she’s a brat he’s a Man what happens next, infidelity, they’re kinda both assholes, soft and fluffy Lee literally and figuratively, smut-tacular, totally glossed over Lee’s 400 red glaring flags

A/N: It’s about time I did something for my big country boy. No Pepsi cups sorryyyy

Everyone knew the Sheriff used to drink like a fish. Everyone knew the Sheriff had a wife that hadn’t popped out a baby yet. Everyone knew the Sheriff played with bad men and dirty money. Your Pa, the county judge, told you to stay far away from the Sheriff. In fact, you planned on doing the opposite.

‘Vote for Bodecker,’ read the pin. You picked it up and thumbed across the lettering, thinking. You had a senior internship with the little paper in Meade. Although more interesting things tended to come out of Knockemstiff. You were fascinated by the surly law man, he was cute. Sure, a little pudgy and a lot older but he had killer eyes and the prettiest smile. You’d be lying if he wasn’t your sexual awakening.

Your boss rolled his eyes and said, “Sure, write a puff piece on the asshole, but he’s gonna make sure you write what he wants.” You cocked your head against the door with snicker, “Not even a little feminine wiles will sway em’?”

Henry pushed his glasses up a crooked nose and blew smoke at you, “If the man has to pay people to be quiet about his sister selling ass out the Tecumseh, whatcha think your lil’ pink tweed skirt is gonna do? He’s all about reputation.” You opened your mouth in faux shock and retorted, “I’ll show you what a pink tweed skirt can do. I’ll have an interview by tomorrow!”

“Whatever you say! Get on home. Night darlin’.”

“Night Mister Henry,” you chirped.

Maybe Henry had a point. You’d called the station four times today. The receptionist would answer, you’d state your intentions, she’d say, “Sheriff Bodecker is not in the station, try again later.”

On the fifth try the receptionist sniffed, “Look girlie, he’s busy. I’d suggest giving it twenty-four hours.”

You put on a smile as you gritted out, “Thanks, girlie!”

Slamming the phone against the wall you watched your dog jump up and stare at you. Turning on your heel you made it up to your room, filtering through your dresses. You’d wear the light pink shift dress, like the one Twiggy had in the magazines. You pulled on some stockings and thick black heels to match your collar.

Eyes made up big and shiny you eyed the clock. He’s probably in his little office, yelling for the clerk to shut the damn phone off like he was important or something. You drove to the depot, slinging rocks as you pulled into a parking spot. You didn’t want to ‘pull my pa is the judge card’ but push might come to shove.

You checked your meticulous hair and makeup in the car mirror, popping a smile. You sprayed a bit of perfume and grabbed your smokes. Staring back in the mirror you chided yourself, “You gettin’ nervous? No ma’am. C’mon.” Pinching your thigh a couple of times you hopped out your light blue Mercury.

You stalked into the depot, resting your hands on the receptionist’s desk. The lady seemed shocked, gasping, “Lord have mercy! I told you the man was busy!”

You waved your hands, “It sure don’t look busy round here!”

You lit up a cigarette in annoyance, listening to her nasally admonishment. A gruff tone came from behind your right shoulder. “I have been busy all day filling out reports, but I guess some people got no patience.” You exhaled and ashed into nearby tray, glancing over your shoulder at the Sheriff. Turning and holding out a manicured hand you offered your name and a polite, “I’m here on behalf of the Meade Daily News to request an interview.”

His big hand engulfed yours, blue eyes flicking down your body before returning up. He hummed deeply before laughing, “You’re the judges girl aint’cha? Like father like daughter.” You pouted and asked, “Can I ask a couple questions or do I need to go to your opponent?”

He didn’t like that, jaw clamping down and twitching. Bodecker ran a hand through his short hair, other hand on a soft hip. He grumbled, “Naw, we don’t need that. Cmon into my office. Damn fire-ant.”

You perched yourself on the couch across the small room. It smelled of cigars and candied something. He had quit drinking so you guessed sugar was filling the void. And his shirts, you thought as he grunted while sitting down, belly straining his white button down.

Leaning back he lit up a cig and leveled you with an annoyed look, chubby cheeks bunching as he puffed on the tobacco. You went straight to the point.

“Are you aware of the accusations against you being made? About hush money and your sister’s doings.”

His eyes narrowed, fingertips digging into the wood of his desk. Bodecker suddenly smiled and said, “My poor sister was being used by her husband. She’s receiving treatment upstate Ohio. Truly a shame, but I can’t allow that to happen in our county. No hush money involved, it can be blow to the ego but she was sick.”

“Mhm. That is sad. Do you consider yourself a family man?”

He was getting more irritated by the second. You grinned, knowing you had the upper hand. Untouchable was written up and down your body, lest he get on bad with the magistrate and Mayor. Lee took a deep breath and sighed, “I’ve been wanting to have a family since my daddy upped and walked out on us. My wife has been…ill…so it’s been a slow process. We’re thinking about maybe adopting.”

You opened your mouth but Bodecker barked, “Nuh-uh. I pick this question and ya’ pretty lil’ self is gonna write it all down, ‘kay?” Feeling your cheeks heat up you nodded. It was only fair to write down some bullshit on behalf of Bodecker. So you did, unwillingly and oft with dramatic sighs.

You frowned at the Sheriff’s smug expression as he leaned back in that office chair, creaking in the quiet room. You stretched out yourself, the hem of your dress climbing higher and higher. He cleared his throat, blues locked on you. You kept your legs together and hummed, “Off the record question Sheriff— if you answer I’ll give ya’ a peak.”

He grunted softly, “Whassit’ sweetheart?”

Rubbing your thighs together tantalizingly had him begging like a dog for a bone with his eyes. You rolled your hips and asked, “So you gonna adopt some babies? You don’t go home and fill your wife’s pussy up every night? She’s mighty pretty but y’aint gettin’ any younger Sheriff.”

He groaned and palmed his swelling prick, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“What? Looks like y’got no problem getting it up?”

Lee Bodecker stood up, braced over his desk, and growled, “She’s a lockbox. Thinkin’ I’m fucking lil’ girls like you.” You dropped one of your legs to the floor, exposing your naked slit, cooing, “Really now?” He stepped closer, breathing hard. You could see the war in his mind but he couldn’t control the licking of his lips.

You knew what the man was imagining.

He stood still, hands on his hips as almost if he was stuck. You lounged idly, curls falling out of place. You slid your hand down your body, so, so, so slowly. Lee made a soft noise when you swiped your fingers through slippery slick. “She don’t get all wet for you like this Sheriff? Don’t take much for me.”

You rubbed a bit faster, breathily moaning, “I remember when you was just a deputy, hah, I was thirteen. Such an ugly duckling then. F-fuck but you were so handsome helping me when those boys were being mean.”

Lee had drawn closer, kneeling at the end of the couch, a hand near your calf, barely grazing it. His orbs were dark with arousal. The man desperately goaded, “C’mon- finish the story, c’mon.”

You arched your back, spreading yourself wider for him, circling your clit. “W-well, ya’ helped me out and you were just out the national guard, all young and trim- don’t matter shit! So when I went home I rode my pillow thinkin’ it was you.” You finished your dirty little story with a cry, shivering in pleasure. Lee looked wrecked, hand tightly wound around your ankle now, rubbing his ringed finger over his face.

You slid upward, batting his hand off. Lee gruffed, “Yer’ gonna give me a heart attack sweets— ya’ can’t stay much longer.” Close enough to smell his aftershave you pressed close, tucking yourself into a soft jawline, pressing some kisses.

You grabbed his big left hand and eyed the gold band. Playing with it the question rolled out, “When’s the last time you got a blow job Sheriff?” He gulped down a moan, shaking his head. You lapped at his thick ring finger, swallowing the digit down. He gasped and jerked at the sensation, eyes wide. You ever so gently eased his wedding ring off a slight hassle as his fingers weren’t so slim since the bells rang.

You pulled it out of your mouth and placed it on the side table, staring up at the bigger man, still kneeled outside the couch. Lee’s internal war seemed to be made up, he had a look in his eye now, jaw twitching. He stood up, cock flushed and thick against those tight slacks.

His big hand held your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek. You whimpered softly when he brushed the bottom lip. The sheriff murmured, “Can you be a good girl and follow along?” You nodded and suckled on his calloused thumb, watching eyes roll back.

He managed in a low rumble, “You’re gonna straighten up and walk your pretty tail to your car. Then head to the Seven-Eleven where the truckers park,” he bent down and nipped your earlobe, “Then I’m gonna come by and we’ll have a real interview— up close and personal.”

“Yessir,” you poorly whined. You shifted your thighs together to hold back the neediness still arising. You stood up on shaky legs, smoothing down your dress, wiping any stray makeup, putting your headband back on. Before you walked out the door he pressed his big body into yours, lips crawling up your neck.

“Haven’t had a blowjob in years. But I can’t resist any sweets.” He smacked your ass and you stumbled out the door, pen and paper in hand. The receptionist and a cop standing by her stared oddly but you chirped, “Have a wonderful night!” There was a skip in your step to the Mercury, you driving like a bat outta hell to the quickie store.

Then the waiting begun.

You contemplated rubbing your clit outta boredom and sheer need but went over your notes instead. Deep in thought, a knock at the window shocked you, sending the pen flying. The sheriff was clad in a leather jacket now, grinning like a maniac down at you. You tentatively opened the car door and asked, “Where we headed Sheriff?”

You were both parked behind a stationary truck. He had his hat on, brim low, arm slung around your waist. He hummed, “Not sure yet. Somewhere quiet. Probably one o’ those old lover’s lanes when I was young.” You stifled a laugh, “In a place like this it’s changed?”

He side-eyed you with a smirk, “Yep, y’know how many times I’d had to bust up little bad girls like you out past bedtime?” You rolled your eyes and stated, “Don’t got a curfew, my parents think I’m at Darlene’s.” He opened the side of the cruiser for you, getting a nice feel as you sat down.

He slipped in the driver’s side, turning on the ignition. He hummed, “This lover’s lane s’better, gotta pretty crick to run around in.” You stared in horror, “But what about bears and snakes?” He patted your thigh and cooed, “Don’t worry your pretty little head, not like I ain’t use a gun before.” His huge hand settled on your thigh, squeezing and rubbing maddeningly.

You whimpered under your breath, been on edge too long. Rolling toward a dilapidated stop sign he made a noise of faux concern, teasing, “Poor doll baby, you riled up huh? C’mere and sit a little closer.”

You practically leapt to his side, plastered to his warmth. He grinned again and held you snug into his soft midsection. Cruising at a leisurely pace he admitted without looking, “I wanna’ baby so bad. Fill the house with kids. Be better than my shitbag of a Daddy.”

You wanted that too. Real bad. Just thinking about it made you needier. He grumbled, “I don’t know if it’s me or her but ain’t nothing clicked. We been to the doctor in Cleveland, my spunk’s all fine.” He groaned in annoyance, “Why am I even telling you all this?”

You shrugged, “Obviously it’s been weighing on ya. I’d have your babies. Ones with big blue eyes and pretty teeth,” you placed a hand on his soft stomach and whispered, “You’d be a good daddy. I’ve seen ya at the town gatherings.” Bodecker sharply inhaled, hand gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

His driving sped up some, ducking down into an old trail to a holler. He didn’t respond, jaw tighter than ever. You asked, “Sheriff? Bodecker? Did I say something?” He growled, “Babygirl…nah, you said everything I wanted to hear.” He placed a gentler hand around your knee, giving a squeeze.

He put the cruiser in park, settling back with a sigh. You eyed him with wide eyes, utterly transfixed. In the moment you trembled, a bit out of your element, but the ache between your legs was throbbing and persistent. You helped him undo his tight jacket and throw it in the back. You tossed his wide brimmed hat with a little giggle.

Lee rolled his window down and you copied him. The silence was stagnant until the sounds of the evening filled in. The energy was still charged. He turned to you, blue eyes intense. The sheriff asked, “You really mean all that? About the babies and shit?” You nodded, reaching a hand out to grip his bigger one.

“You’re a goddamn angel. Shit baby- how old’re you now?” He ran a frantic hand through his dark hand, biting that damned lip again. You warbled, “M’eighteen. Been that way for a couple a’ months.” He shook his head, laughing lowly, “I’m old enough t’be ya’ daddy sweet cheeks.”

“You can be my daddy. I don’t care. I’ll put all the babies you want in that big empty house up in Brewer Heights.”

He pulled you by your thighs, his bulk keeping you wide open and pinned. Lee hissed in your ear, “Can’t say shit like that. I’m a married man, divorce not good for the election baby.” You pouted and turned away, annoyed. He grabbed your cheeks and cooed, “That don’t mean we can make some arrangements after I win and you’d be the biggest prize.”

You rolled your body against his softer one and petulantly replied, “You promise? Y’gonna be my daddy Lee?” He smiled while peppering kisses along your jaw. “Mhm. I’ll be your daddy, dress you up, take you around, fill ya’ up with my babies.”

“Good. Being on the judge’s bad side would be sticker in your heel for winning,” you said lightly.

He glared you down, fear filling your veins before Lee laughed, “Don’t I know that? Bratty lil’ girl, bout’ as slick as those gangsters at the Tecumseh.” You retorted, “You like it, I know it.” Lee sat back on his haunches, kicking open the car door behind him. You surged forward with a whimper, seizing his plump lips.

You batted his hands away to loosen his tie then unbutton his top. While unpinning his badge you hummed, “Nah. This’ll be my job when you get home after a long day.” Lee simply groaned and panted while you plucked the buttons off. You commented, “Daddy needs a bigger size.”

You ran your hands down his soft belly and hips, squeezing. They settled on his belt, pudge slightly rolling over. He scoffed, “Eatin’ too many sweets. I’ll be a Fuckin’ hog by the end of the election.” Loosening his belt with a jingle you shrugged, “Not when you’re fucking your pretty girl all the time, that’ll get some cardio in.”

Button popped and you stroked him through his underwear, earning a strangled moan. You couldn’t help but whimper, “Oh- you’re big.” He shucked off the rest of the pants along with the whites— cock rudely slapping against his tummy. You blushed and cried out when he reached behind your neck to unbutton your collar.

In a flurry of muted pink you were on your knees in the buff. Lee rumbled, “Oh little girl, fuck, pretty goddamn baby.” You whimpered, “Touch me, c’mon daddy, s’been too long. Huuurts.” He laid you down on the seat, big hands rubbing you gently, cooing, “Ain’t you just a darlin’? Daddy’s gonna take care of ya.”

His cock slotted against your oversensitive pussy, making you cry out again, hands wrapping round his broad shoulders. He leaned in from an angle, taking your lips sweetly. You shyly moaned into his mouth, rutting against him in excitement. All your dreams come true. Lee Bodecker would be yours.

He shifted in the tight compartment, hand cradling you for better access to your mouth. He kicked into your lax mouth, panting, “Been s’long, taste so sweet.” You lapped back, wet smacks filling the cruiser. His tongue playfully danced against yours, kissing rough then pulling back to smile at you.

You tried to close the gap, only for the bastard to back off further. You whined his name in annoyance, squirming. The brunette shushed you, “Hold on now, lemme love on you some.” Your eye roll turned into a real one when his lips sealed over your nipple, flicking his tongue naughtily. Billy from down the road didn’t know jack shit about this, fucking boy.

You ran your hand through his thick hair, panting and mewling softly. “Lee, oh f- Christ!” He hummed amusedly around your bud, sending you reeling again. Then switched to the other one, rough fingers twitching and pulling. He was rolling his thick cock between your folds quicker now, making you a mess of nerves and emotions.

For some reason tears pricked at your eyes as you cried his name, your belly awash with heat, orgasm taking you by surprise. Clinging to the man, you sobbed into his sweet smelling neck, shaking like a leaf. Lee groaned low and long, caught up in pleasure before he realized.

He enveloped you into a tight embrace, shushing and cooing sweet things. Lee softly spoke, “Oh honey, s’too much? Poor baby never been with a real man like her daddy. Shh now, s’okay sweet pea. Breathe for me, c’mon.” You blinked more tears into his neck, trying to stop your shuddery breathing.

He was doing a good job of holding you tight, feeling safe nestled against his soft belly and hard arms. You croaked, “S’sorry daddy, didn’t know what came over me. Didn’t even let you get to come.” He nuzzled the crown of your mussed hair. “You’re fine pretty girl, I know ya’ been keyed up for hours. Why don’t we take a dip in that crick, sure is hot out here.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your eyes while da-Lee loved up on you, big hand leading you to the babbling water. He grinned, “S’gon be cold. Better hold tight.” You managed a weak tease, “Did’ja tell that to all the girlies back in the day?”

“Maybe. Only if they was special.”

“Was your wife special?”

He remained quiet for a beat, only the sound of water rushing by. Lee shook his head and sighed, “Nah. That was a between patrol hookup and she had money. Thought it would be a good idea.”

“Fuck er’ let’s get in daddy,” you swore.

His forlorn expression brightened under the moonlight, him stepping in the water first. He whooped, “Whew it’s brisk! Good for ya, that’s what my momma used ta’ say.” You stepped in ankle deep, yelping. Lee barked out a laugh and waded further, submerged to his thighs. He sat on a flattened boulder, pulling you in.

Much shorter than Lee you cried out in shock at the coolness hitting your overheated nerves. You hopped to him and whined, “Goddamn Lee, that’s cold as hell!” He grinned and retorted, “Get up here then, up ya’ get.”

You were on top of his spread thighs, his unflagging prick between you two, pulsing. The water lapped around your feet and his shins. Lee’s tone grew darker as he asked, “You gonna let daddy stretch that pretty pussy out?” Arousal flooded your system like a ton of bricks again.

“Yessir, I ain’t a virgin but take it slow, yeah?”

“Slow as you want sugar, you’re on top after all.”

You kissed him again, pressing your forehead against his while you lifted up on quivering thighs. He steadied his cock as you descended, gasping as the thick tip began to breach your still soaked core. He hummed, “That’s it, real slow baby girl, no rush.” You slid down further, whining at the stretch, about halfway now.

You took a break to pant in his mouth, soaking up those sweet nothings. The pinch died down and you slid flush to his lap. You were full, stretched, split. You gasped and shuddered. “Lee. Daddy. Oh god daddy- you’re so big ah hell, feeling you everywhere dadddy!”

He pressed down on your lower belly, eyes blackened with lust. Lee murmured, “Mmmm- yeah sweetheart, shit, tight, I can feel me through ya’.” He looked dazed, forehead still stuck to yours as he panted. The sheriff slurred, “Oh fuck sssweetheart, s’been s-so damn long for daddy. Don’t want it to end.”

“Fuck me then, get it out, I got mine,” you pleaded while pecking his lips. Pushing the man back against the rock you laid on top of him, letting Lee plant his feet on something solid. Lee moaned long and low, fucking into you roughly with heavy slaps, something that’ll make a whore blush.

He babbled, “Yeah, baby, gonna be your daddy, fuck you all day and night until that belly is round, take care of ya’. Everyone gonna be jealous of ole’ Bodecker. We’ll build our own- fucking hell- place!”

You nodded along, your daddy’s cock rubbing spots you didn’t know existed inside your pussy. “Yeah, yeah, fuck me, love it!” He let out a weak noise, sucking in a breath. You could tell the man was close, he was whimpering almost imperceptibly, strokes growing sloppy.

“Awh fucking- baby,” he warned.

You pulled off of him and let the seed spurt against your belly and tits. Lee scrunched his cute face up, soft tummy twitching as he unloaded on you, moaning unabashedly. He blinked a couple of times, smiling at you like you’d hung the moon.

“How’d I get so damn lucky huh?”

You shrugged, cock drunk and giddy. “I just knew you’d have a nice cock and decided to hunt you down.”

He guffawed, pulling you both into the freezing ass water. You spluttered, gasping from shock. He howled again, laughing. Lee held you tightly, locking your hips around his waist. You nuzzled into his embrace, hearing his chest vibrate as he promised, “Gonna be your daddy, all mine now little girl.”

“All yours,” you promised.

A year later Sheriff Bodecker started the groundwork on his new home, right next to that creek where it all started. He stood behind you, rubbing your slightly rounded belly. Lee hummed, “See, what I tell you Mrs. Bodecker?”

“Everything you said, Mr. Bodecker,” you winked,

“Daddy.”

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time fic #lee bodecker smut

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fountainofrubies · 11 months

Text

The out of control Suneater / Tamaki Amajiki x Fem reader 18+

tags/warnings: Explicit sexual content, orgasms, quirks, tentacles, constriction, pain, genital descriptions, She/Her

🍋 Tamaki has missed you so much that he can’t wait to play with you. You try your quirk on him for the first time, not knowing your own strength. You turn him loose with extreme amounts of arousal thanks to your gaseous quirk. The shy and quiet Tamaki that you know seems to take a backseat. Unable to control himself, he becomes aggressive with you.

————-

Weeks later from the 7 minutes of Heaven game that you two shared, there have been quite a few steamy make out sessions and a good bit of play between you and Tamaki. Every chance he gets to be with you, he’s there, although he is usually uptight and rather nervous. It’s been almost a week since he had been able to be with you intimately though. You missed him a lot during your trip, but you’re glad to be back.

While on Patrol today, Tamaki stood frozen after seeing your approach. We lost some of the progress with Tamaki’s comfortability in you two’s relationship that was gained before your trip. That, coupled with the fact that your appearance was not planned, had Tamaki tense and stressed when he saw you coming. Quickly jumbling in order to come up with something to say, he exhaled in relief when you started talking to him first.

“Tamaki! It’s great to see you! I know that I didn’t tell you that I’d be back today, I wanted it to be a surprise!” you say cheerfully as you hug him.

“It’s good to see you too.. and it worked, it’s definitely a nice surprise.” He mumbles and his smile is a little wobbly, but he really means it. He’s thought about you nonstop while you were away. “Since I’ve got the green light to go home, would you like to come?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to take. So you do.

“I’d love to!” You smile warmly. You pull a candy out of your pocket, unwrapping it. It’s his favorite. He opens up as you reach towards him to put it in his mouth, making him blush as you touch his bottom lip with your thumb. It makes him laugh softly as he starts to chew it.

As you walk, you come to an area that is usually free of people and traffic as you get further away from the bustle of the city. It looks quiet, as expected. As you two keep walking, you pull Tamaki with you when you get to the specific area that you had in mind. You go down the long alley way, and turn down another stretch, pushing him up against the wall softly, you gently kiss him while rubbing his shoulders, eventually reaching his elbows with your fingertips. He wraps his arms around you as he kisses you needily.

His voice low and shaky, but full of needy passion, he tells you, “I’ve missed this so much.” His moans come softly as you kiss his neck. As you pull away, his breathing calms. “How was your trip?”

You reply, “It was great! I learned so much about my quirk and it’s even stronger now! The teach asked me to hit him with it at half speed and it gave him so much nausea that he was useless. Before I went, it would take me giving it my all to affect someone like that!”

Tamaki praises you, “Great job! You really took training seriously then! I’m curious as to what all you could do to a person.”

You blush when he says this because you have been thinking about wanting to try something in particular on him. He notices, raising one of his eyebrows in a questioning way. Feeling pressed to explain, you admit “I’m sorry if I’m acting weird! I have been fantasizing about trying certain things on you.. and I guess that was the first thing that came to mind for me when you said that.”

He started to fiddle with his fingers as he responded. “Well.. what did you have in mind?”

You ask him outright, “Tamaki.. can I try my quirk on you? There’s an aspect of it that I want to test.. but I haven’t really had anyone I could test.. this type of thing on..”

Knowing that your quirk is like a gaseous excretion and that you affect people, and animals in various ways according to your will, he asks you, “This thing you want to try.. it’s naughty isn’t it?” He waits for your answer bashfully.

You smile “Yes.. yes it is.”

He fiddles more with his fingers. “Well.. I’m willing.. I mean, you have full control right? Like if something went wrong?”

You nod, your eyes shining. “I can nullify the effects.. or change what you’re experiencing. Sure.”

“Okay then..” He definitely looks nervous as he watches you curiously. His eyes widen and he looks away quickly after he sees you reach under your skirt and pull your panties down, taking them off.

You lean forward, kissing Tamaki gently. At first his lips are tight and tense. With some effort, his lips soften and cooperate with yours. You inhale slowly, taking a deep breath in and then you dose him with a very large hit of your quirk, giving him everything you’ve got.

After a breath or two, he begins to fill with an intense heavy desire that aggressively overtakes his body. His muscles begin to tense up, as he steps backwards, his heart pounding. His eyes are very wide as he slowly looks over at you, roughly flooding with intense need as he stands up straight, rigid, locked into position. He’s trembling, locked into this position, gritting his teeth. He moans through his gritted teeth, furrowing his brow as he continues to desperately battle for self control. His erection feels massive, throbbing like never before and it is the most blindingly intense, gripping erection that he has ever felt in his life. Seconds pass as he continues to tremble, his breathing quickening. He’s looking at you with an extremely desperate amount of need. As you come closer to him, his eyes follow you, locked onto yours. It takes quite a bit of effort, but he manages to get a sentence out. His entire being feels like it is about to erupt and his voice sounds like it is falling apart at the seams. “I don’t want to hurt you…” he says in a panicked and shaky voice. His entire body is flexing as he holds fast, making him groan as uncontrollable urges come to him in waves, drowning his attempts to control himself. His breaths become very strained and deeply desperate as his body begins to quake.

As impressive as his ability to control himself thus far truly is, you quickly deliver a message to him that you hope will free him from the raging battle he is fighting within himself to forcibly control his body. “If anything goes wrong or gets too dangerous, I’ll use my quirk to control the situation, I promise…” You continue, “Tamaki, let go.” Reaching down, you firmly squeeze his cock throw his tunic, letting go immediately after. With a huge gasp, Tamaki’s moves come reflexively and automatically, the intensity dizzying. In the split second that it takes for all 5 of the thick tentacles that are zooming towards you to wrap around you, coiling up all around your entire being, encasing you, a loud sound rips out of Tamaki’s throat. He’s half screaming, half growling as he whips you into the wall behind you. The tentacles take the impact as they protect your body from any damage. The sudden impact does surprise you though, making you gasp as more adrenaline releases into your body. Not even a second passes since your gasp of dark surprise before Tamaki is already on you clutching your arm as he peers at you looking extremely hot and bothered. You’re at his eye level, being held inches above the ground. No time is wasted as tentacles shoot from his other hand, grabbing his clothes, pulling his tunic to the side, twisting it up and securing it so that it will be tucked out of the way. Other tentacles grab ahold of the lower half of his body suit and rip it apart, revealing his skin and his large, throbbing cock. It looks even bigger right now, and it was already big to start with.

As his tentacles shrink back into his free hand, he pulls the slick liquid seeping out of the head of his cock down its length, all the way to the base. Moaning, he repeats the actions rapidly, which coats his cock in the largest amount of precum that he has ever produced at one time ever before. Immediately, he penetrates you. While he is grabbing your shoulder, the first two thrusts are moderately paced but strong, making you bounce as his body makes contact with you. After that, he moves quickly, grabbing your waist with his free hand as he starts fucking you as fast as he can. Whimpering in between his choked, desperate moans, he reaches towards you, unable to think about anything but the pleasure. He grabs the back of your neck with his free hand, pulling himself close to your ear, growling as he holds you roughly, “OH!~ AH! You feel so fucking good!” His voice is aggressive, despite the loud moans, sending a chill down your spine. His pace has become punishing. His moans are spilling out rapidly, turning you on more and more as he rails you.

As for you, you only seem to get wetter and wetter. Your cheeks are becoming red. You gasp for air. Tamaki looks down at your body as he continues to thrust into you roughly, and although it takes him a few seconds to process it, he notices that he is constricting you far too tightly with his tentacles. The parts of your skin that are visible are all glowing varying shades of red. You’re aware that you’re being squeezed tightly, but you’re so caught up in how Tamaki feels inside of you that you ignored the uncomfortable pressure. You’re still gasping though, and Tamaki starts fighting for control of his body again. His thrusts are still coming as he tries to let go of you with his tentacles, but he’s having issues. He feels a fresh wave of panic as he realizes how little control he really has over himself now. He screams out, as he tenses his body with everything he’s got, trying to force control. He goes rigid, his open hand hits the wall beside you just above your shoulder as he tries to lock himself into a steel stance. Unable to stretch his arm all the way out so he can wrench himself away from you, he thrusts into you again greedily, even more quickly, grunting and moaning loudly. He continues to try to pull out of you but it’s just not working for him. He thrusts into you once more and pressed up against you with force, hoping that going forward and freezing would work better than trying to push himself backwards or pulling out, and for a second it does.

As he’s pushed all the way inside of you, his nose is inches away from yours, his breath spilling all over your face in bursts. He looks like a wreck, mouth agape watching you as he fights himself, his body screaming at him. His stance doesn’t budge an inch but you do feel the tentacles around you trembling as he works as hard as he can to loosen his grip on you. But then, suddenly, you feel a crazily dizzying sensation that makes you choke out a heavy, wet, sob of a moan, followed by many more of them. There’s rapid movement happening inside you as his quirk manifests, it feels like your insides are spinning. Tamaki groans as his member contorts, spinning wildly as you're drilled by some sort of tentacly, phallic concoction. There’s no way to know exactly what is happening in there, but you feel extremely full up as whatever it is that keeps thrusting forward wildly, writhes inside of you, only to feel like it retreats back into the original shape of Tamaki’s cock for just a second before it repeats again and again. You choke out another sob as Tamaki looks at you, eyes wide with shock and panic, his breath desperately wild. “Please..”, he pleads, his voice shaking, “Help me.”

Just as soon as those words left his mouth, you sprung into action, blowing a strong, cool stream of air into his face to hit him with enough force to affect him quickly as he gasps and moans. The dose takes effect very quickly as the tentacles wrapped around begin to turn you loose, his tense body slightly hunches toward you as it relaxes. He grabs you with his free hand, holding your shoulder so that you’ll meet the ground without stumbling as you slip out of his hold, all of the tentacles retracting.

Regardless of the dose of calm you just hit him with, he still looks scared as he blurts out the words, “I’m so sorry..” He has a heartbreakingly hurt look on his face that cuts you to the core. “Are you hurt?” He looks distraught.

You shake your head no as you nearly tear up. You respond to him, “No Tamaki, I’m sorry.. That was so selfish of me.. You felt so good that I just let you go at it. I was so lost in how amazing you felt that all I could think about was your every move.. I wasn’t even thinking about how you must have felt..” Now the tears are coming, you feel them freshly rolling down each of your cheeks. “I used my quirk so carelessly.” Your face is so hot as you whimper, “I care for you deeply, Tamaki.. how could I do that to you?” Your lip trembles.

Tamaki strokes your cheek. “Heyyy,” he says, suddenly soft with you, on a mission to comfort you, focusing hard on succeeding at it. “It’s okay, it was an accident right? I just didn’t want to hurt you.. I was terrified that I was going to.. It’s okay.” He wipes your tears away and then holds your cheeks. “I’m okay.. I just panicked when I failed to gain control. I was squeezing you so hard…. I.. I was scared to death that you might pass out or something and that I wouldn’t be able to stop to even help you.. I don’t know, I’m just sorry..”

You sniffle as you let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.. I thought I’d ruined everything.. I thought for sure that you’d want nothing to do with me now after I did that with my stupid quirk. I feel so embarrassed.”

He leans down and kisses your lips, romantically even, as his tongue enters your mouth delicately and then retreats back into his. “Your quirk is amazing. It’s a part of you, it makes you who you are. It’s so powerful and it felt amazing. I just need to have a bit more control, bunny. Hit me with it again, just not full force. I’ll let you know if I want a little more or less as needed. Can you do that?”

You nod, hopeful that the experience will end on a much better note. You reach up and kiss him again, giving him a smaller dose than you did last time.

His eyes roll back for a split second and he looks at you again. “I want you so bad.. So bad.. As if I didn’t already want you enough..”

“What?” you ask, understanding what was said, but craving more information on the subject.

Feeling dizzy with desire, Tamaki isn’t even thinking about his nerves at this moment. He’s breathing slow but deeply, hissing as he inhales here and there, curling his lip a bit as it happens. Now he’s moving slowly to your side as he reaches forward and kisses your neck. He falls into the moment, no longer caring that you'll know the things he’s about to tell you. His hot breath bathes your neck as he whispers to you, “I’ve been thinking about being inside of you ever since you left. When I see you regularly, I have to make myself come multiple times before I even come out to meet you. It’s the only way I can get my body to be less obvious when I stand near you.”

You swallow, your throat is tight and you feel a little dizzy yourself. “Tamaki? Is that true.”

He nods slowly, up close in your face. His gaze and his movement are both slow and sensual. He licks your parted lips, running his tongue softly across them. “Give me some more.” he says lowly, making your heart beat fast. You blow at him, just a bit, stoking his fire.

He opens his mouth as he places his bottom lip in between your lips, breathing openly as he pauses. As you suck on his lip gently, he moans, the hot air heating up your face. Your hot, wet center is aching for him. You’re starting to tremble yourself, his sex appeal feels so dense and heavy. He moans again, bringing his lips together, initiating a sloppy kiss. He sticks his tongue in your mouth. “How about just a bit more? I think I’m close.”

You shoot a just a bit of air into his slightly opened mouth and he takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pausing. “Let’s leave it here.. like this.” He groans as he touches your lips with his thumb. “I want you. Are you gonna let me have some more of you now?” His voice is soft but it’s also sexy as hell. “Yeah? Can I fuck you now?” He strokes his cock a couple of times, moaning.

You are a puddle. Putty in his hands. You whine as you moan your “Yes” to him. His cock is long, thick and throbbing. Breathing heavily, he grunts as he pulls his tunic back up, tucking it back in how he had it before. He picks you up, grabbing your leg and placing it on the side of his hip so you will lock them around him.

You’re ready to beg yourself. “And your tentacles? Will you hold me again?”

He blushes a bit as he smiles, his tentacles obedient and gentle, wrap around you, becoming tighter as he lifts you very slightly to hold you in place. He enters into you again, moaning shakily, pushing into you slowly, throbbing repeatedly. After a few soft strokes, he begins to speed up. His heart is racing. He’s full of heat, his hips greedily returning to you every time he pulls away. His grunts, moans and whines are coming constantly now, in a very random order.

You ask him as you whimper, groaning as he thrusts into you. “The last thing you were doing to me.. can you try it? I was very close at the end there..”

He thrusts in a few more times and starts to engage with his quirk similarly to how it felt like it was moving before, starting slowly, not having used it this way ever before. It feels amazing as he repeats the movements, now moving in a consistent pattern. Not even one whole minute later, you feel pressure growing as he continues, moving a bit stronger as time continues. Now you are moaning repeatedly, sounding off alongside him. He grunts and whines with just about every stroke now. You tense up and curl towards him in every way that you can, he begins to shuffle the movements even more firmly and faster. An orgasm ripples through you, as you tremble while he presses his whole body up against you. The sight, the sensations, the sounds you’re making, you bucking as you squeeze his cock repeatedly, all of it only pushes him that much closer to the edge. He returns back to the way he was fucking you before, his cock pulsing as he grinds into you with intensity and deep need. He begins moving a lot faster, and the sounds he is making start spilling out at a pace that matches his speed. “Im about to come. I’m gonna come..” he informs you urgently as his movements start coming in sloppier and sloppier, his grip tighter as he rapidly slaps into you. He wraps his arms around you, still using the tentacles with one hand, grasping you tightly with the other as he plunges into you choppily, moaning loudly, riding out his extremely pleasurable orgasm. He holds you until his breathing begins to settle and he puts you down afterwards. He begins to fix his clothes, sighing at how he ripped his bodysuit earlier in order to shove his cock into you. He fixes his tunic so that the large hole is covered, laughing as he meets your eye. He holds out his hand towards you. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

You take his hand and ask him, “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

He puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk and he kisses you on the side of your head. “Yes. I’d love to.”

#tamaki amakiji #tamaki x you #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x y/n #amajiki x reader #mha amajiki #suneater #suneater x reader #tentacles #mha tamaki #tamaki smut #amajiki smut

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emira-addams · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel - Carmilla x Rosie - The Devil is a Part-Timer - Headcanon

Carmilla gets trapped on Earth with her daughters and Rosie and Velvette, and they need to pretend to be family so as not to attract any attention among the humans as them being demons until they can return to Hell...

The last thing Carmilla could remember was her arguing with Velvette and Rosie knocking on the door

The Overlord-Meeting had just been over, an exhausting meeting and the main topic had been that weird hotel of Lucifer's disillusioned daughter and the probability of the end of the annual exterminations as a result of Adam's death

With the help of her daughters, Carmilla had been packing up her things, Velvette still sitting in her seat with her feet on the table, engaged in a very heated discussion with Carmilla while she tried to get home as soon as possible

Velvette was convinced that they had to fight back and bring down Heaven now while they still had the chance

Suddenly there had been a knock on the door and Rosie was standing in front of her

When Carmilla opened her eyes, she was lying on her back, damp green grass beneath her and the silhouettes of trees and shadows of skyscrapers above her, the red horizon of Hell had been replaced by a dark blue sky, planes and helicopters imitating shooting stars

The noise of the city was terrible, the volume unbearable, shrill sirens and car horns, she had to cover her ears and when she sat up, she realized that she was sitting on the ground in the middle of a park in a big city

Carmilla was not alone

Less than a meter away from their mother, her daughters lay unconscious in the grass, Rosie found herself on her side under a tree and a good distance away, in the mud on the edge of a small lake, they saw Velvette

"W-What happened?" Slowly Rosie came awake, shaking, her balance faltering, and Carmilla needed to help to her feet before the worried mother could go and check on her daughters

"Where are we?" Rosie also seemed completely overwhelmed by the volume, the bright lights and the sheer size of the city; she and Carmilla had never experienced such centralization and automation in their lifetimes

"We're on Earth..." Velvette tried desperately to rub the mud from her clothes, more concerned about her appearance than the fact that they had somehow escaped Hell and were now trapped on Earth

"Why are we on Earth? We have to go back to Hell!"

"What do we do now?" Velvette asks in confusion as they leave the park and stop in front of a large shop window, all of their images appearing strangely human in the reflection

"We'll blend in," Carmilla concludes. "We look like humans, so we act like humans..."

She has a plan and explains to the group that they need to be as inconspicuous as possible, they need to blend into the everyday life of a normal person as much as possible, they shouldn't attract any attention until they have found a way back to Hell and their first step in implementing their plan is to find a place to stay and food to eat

At the city library, Odette forges the right faked documents for them on a computer while the rest of the group searches for ads for cheap housing in newspapers spread everywhere

Odette chooses the obviously simplest option and makes their group into a family that has just moved here from abroad, Carmilla and Rosie playing married parents and Clara, Odette and Velvette becoming sisters on paper

"I'd also need your name for the records, Miss..." requested their landlady.

"Rosie!"

"Your full name with your surname, please, Miss..." replied their landlady, shaking her head.

"Oh... Please excuse me, my full name is Rosie Carmine! We're married!" Rosie pointed to Carmilla with a proud grin, while Carmilla quickly averted her eyes, desperately trying to hide the blush that was now creeping inevitably into her cheeks. Although Odette had already warned her mother that Rosie would be playing her wife, saying it out loud was another matter that inevitably made Carmilla's heart skip a beat. How was she supposed to get used to sleeping in the same bed with Rosie any time soon?

"You really do have three wonderful daughters!" their landlady enthused as she showed them their tiny apartment, which was a one-bedroom unit with an open kitchen and an adjoining bathroom with a shower.

"Don't get the wrong impression, I'm just adopted!" Velvette interjected.

"We still love her just as much as our other two daughters..." Carmilla pressed through gritted teeth as she pulled Velvette into a halfhearted hug. "Play along..." she hissed lowly as Velvette struggled unsuccessfully in her arms.

Carmilla gets a job at a fast food restaurant to make the money for rent and food. In addition, she enrolls her daughters and Velvette in school to maintain their cover. Rosie stays home most of the time, taking care of the household and her family, while she spends her free time researching on the internet and in the surrounding museums and libraries to find out more about their situation and a possible way to get back to Hell.

Velvette is very less than thrilled that she has to live under the same roof as Carmilla, play their daughter and go back to school.

Even though their cover is indeed very convincing, their every move is watched by agents in black suits and black SUV's, which park in the street and near their apartment more and more frequently as the plot progresses. Carmilla is followed on her way to work, Rosie can't go to the supermarket alone once without agents following her through the aisles and Clara, Odette and Velvette are being tailed at school. Who are these people and what do they want from them? Are they well aware that they are from Hell?

I'm still working on this idea, it's in my WIP's and I'd love to write a full fic about it soon. It's more or less a slow burn Blooming Gun fic playing on Earth, with a lot of pure domestic bliss and fluff and some action (involving some secret demon hunting agents from the government), and Carmilla and Rosie secretly crushing on each other.

Carmilla thinks that Rosie is merely playing her role as her wife very convincingly and doesn't dare to explore her feelings much further, while Rosie desperately tries to give Carmilla the hint without actually having to say the words.

Clara and Odette have long since accepted Rosie as their other parent and are enjoying their second chance to live a semi-normal life outside of Hell with their mothers, more or less accepting Velvette as their sister.

After some time, several conflicts and some heartfelt conversations, Carmilla actually adopts Velvette as her daughter. The turning point in their relationship is a situation at school in which Carmilla takes Velvette's side as her mother and defends her as her daughter.

What do you think of this idea for a fic so far?

Do you have any suggestions or any wishes for scenes or content that I definitely need to include?

Masterpost:

Chapter 01:

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sseniita · 4 months

Text

god tier seduction

(cw suggestive?? not really)

His eyes darkened under his long black lashes.

"Stop that."

The villain loomed far taller than she did. He was long, slender and sharp around the edges. A perfect shadow. She was softer, shorter, her long wavy hair puffing around the frame of her face acting like curtains- shielding her. He raised an eyebrow, eyes bored but calculating.

"Stop what?" His voice barely above a whisper.

"That. That villain stare you do. Save that for the others, will you?"

"Are you suggesting you get special treatment from me?"

"I'm suggesting that you cut that out." she pressed further.

The villain chuckled, pacing towards the hero, kicking his legs lazily with every step. Finally two or three feet away from the hero. Hero stood straight and unrelenting under the villain's eyes, smooth as glass.

"You do, you know." He said matter-of-factly. "I'd never treat a Hero as luxuriously as I treat you." His gaze lingered a bit too long on the Hero's figure, sizing her up like she were prey. He tilted his head- the hero's que to respond something witty but nothing only curiosity came out.

"Why?" Her question seemed to please the villain.

"Darling! Look at yourself, I mean besides that, what is there to even dislike. Your unwavering..." He paused to find the right word. "Humanity. Courage, grace, optimism, intelligence. My love, I could go on."

He sneaked closer and when he softly grabbed the hero's face in his hands, she let him. "You're perfect. In every sense of the word, dear."

That wasn't new. Hero was perfect. She was thin where it looked best, and softer too. Blonde hair, blue eyes, sun kissed skin. Her tight pink spandex suit hugs all the right places, not too flashy but definitely recognizable. Her voice was like honey most of the time, often compared to her own nemesis'. She's heard it all before- the epitome of 'beauty' as some would call it. Although she'd prefer the villain arched nose, tanned skin and brown eyes.

In fact she was called perfect in the same way the villain was called cunning, genius, handsome, and compelling. Maybe that's why her cheeks flushed red and her pupils dilated. Maybe that's why he let her play with her hair as he continued whispering sweet nothings to her. Maybe it was because this was no longer the masses praising a god; but rather a god praising it's own mirror image.

The villain's hand found it's way to a scar hidden in her golden curls behind her ear. Barely 4 centimeters in length, a thin thread of raised, white skin where hair didn't grow anymore. No one knew it was there. No one except Villain.

He moved his index finger smoothly up and down the scar, almost caringly.

"I love that this is our secret." He whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver. His lips slowly inched closer until they were on her scar, they stayed there, biting and kissing, making the hero sigh with pleasure, solely supporting her head in the villain's hands.

It all finally clicked for the hero as she silently chuckled. The villain hummed, seemingly asking what's so funny?

"You only like it cause it's my only imperfection, it's you. You are my only imperfection." It seemed funny that Hero notices just now with the villain practically slobbering at their neck. He didn't seem to disturbed though. Egotistical bastard.

Without moving the villain of exactly where he shouldn't be, Hero reached for his wrist on the other side of her face. She slipped her thumb under his sleeve to find a matching scar to her's. His was thicker, planned, and much, much cleaner than her's. The villain pulled away to look at his hero.

Without breaking eye contact, she put his scar to her mouth and kissed it, every so gently- villain considered it heaven, but in reality they both knew it was an act of war. It really didn't matter to the villain as the hero made her way from his wrist to his lips, where they would revisit again and again against all better judgement.

#hero x villain #original fiction #writing #hero and villain #villain x hero #toxic villain lol #muhahahh i wish i could add more #but it'd just be to much eheh #love yall

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createserenity · 5 months

Text

Is there any love in heaven?

I’ve been thinking about writing about this for a while, because it’s a major point in the characters of both Aziraphale and Crowley – although this is mostly about Crowley because it relates to something else I'm writing. It’s also all my opinion, I totally understand why other people have a different opinion and a different reading of things that happen in GO, so please don’t be offended by any of this. I'm prepared for the fact that I might be totally wrong, and that's okay too.

Anyway, is it possible that Crowley feels horribly about his fall because he has been torn from the grace and love of heaven and the Almighty? Well, anything’s possible. But also…

What love?

Look at these angels.

Are you seriously suggesting to me that they in any way feel loved? They haven’t got the first clue about love. They don’t feel it. They don’t experience it. They don’t know what it is. The Almighty does not love them.

Angels in GO were created to be servants of the Almighty. They are there to do her will and make sure the Great Plan is carried out. They aren’t her children. She isn’t coddling them like a parent or even loving them as equals or friends. She treats them as servants, or at best as members of her political party.

How do we know they don’t understand love?

We know from season two that the angels have no idea how human romantic love works. Aziraphale has to explain the concept as “what humans do” and Michael et al clearly have no context for this piece of information. They don’t even understand that “miracles don’t work like that” (even Crowley doesn’t appear to know this interestingly). Later on Crowley is able to trick Muriel, and then by extension Michael and Uriel, into believing human love works in a certain way (“you can only tell if people are in love by waiting a few days because humans are weird and that’s how it works”). So it’s fairly obvious that there is no concept of romantic love in heaven.

So this is all very well, but of course, the Almighty wouldn’t have romantic love for the angels, so it could be plausible they wouldn’t understand that but would still understand other types of love. Except…

The archangels, and even Muriel, see nothing wrong with depriving Job and Sitis of their children. They literally don’t understand the bonds of any sort of love that might exist between two beings.

Aziraphale understands because he has been on earth and has seen first-hand the way in which humans form bonds of love. He knows of the love between two humans and between a parent and child. When he tries to explain this to the archangels all he can come up with is “I think they quite like the old ones”. If there was some parallel to be drawn between any sort of love the Almighty might bestow on the angels then he would absolutely have used that to help explain what Job was going to feel at the loss of his children, but he doesn’t, because the parallel doesn’t exist – the angels know nothing of love.

But Aziraphale recognises love when he feels it in Tadfield?

Sure. He’s been on earth a long time. He knows what love is and as a being of goodness it seems he can sense very strong good emotions. He loves things himself in many different ways (books, food, Crowley, humans) and recognises that what he feels for them is love in different forms. He’s learnt what love is through being on earth.

Also just because the Almighty isn’t bestowing her love on her angels doesn’t mean that she made them without the capacity for love. (Even Gabriel clearly has the capacity to love.) It’s possible she wanted them to worship her, or at least be obedient to her, and that in the early days this obedience was not intended to be the obedience of fear, but the obedience of gratitude and perhaps respect or obligation.

In fact the word that would best describe this would be devotion. The angels were supposed to be devoted to the Almighty and to her Great Plan. They were supposed to be devoted to their purpose, unquestioning and obedient. Devotion is not the same as love, especially when it only goes one way, and of course when a relationship only goes one way the relationship either fades away entirely or becomes twisted over time.

Could this be a new thing?

Is it possible that when they were first created the Almighty did love her angelic creations? Well possibly. I’m sure she was pleased with them. I’m sure at first they were delightful to her. None of this is the same as suffusing them with her love.

When Aziraphale and angel-who becomes-Crowley meet in S2E1 we see them both as they were before the fall happened. Do either of them seem like they are basking in the love of an Almighty being? Not to me they don’t. Aziraphale is his usual lovely self, but he’s already nervous and knows that you can get into trouble, even in this pre-earth era. Crowley appears to have been completely absorbed by his star building project and barely paying attention to the Almighty or what she’s doing. Again, they are servants who have been given orders, or members of a political party who are out working in their constituencies, following the general party line, but mostly just getting on with their jobs. Aziraphale also knows they risk getting fired or punished if they invoke displeasure in their superiors – he’s not a being who is confident in the protection and safety of some divine love.

Also if the angels had once had the love of the Almighty and then lost it you’d think they might mention it at some point? Certainly Aziraphale might mention or hint or act in some way like that had happened. But he doesn’t, because it very likely hasn’t. Also when he thinks he’s fallen after lying to Gabriel about Job’s children if he had some sense of love from the Almighty he would know in this moment that he had not lost that love and that he was not fallen. And note here that he says, “I’m a fallen angel!” because he thinks he’s already fallen. He’s not expecting the fall to happen when Crowley arrives, nor when he actually steps into hell itself, he thinks it’s already a done deal and that it happened the moment he lied. There’s no way he wouldn’t know that falling involved losing the love and grace of the Almighty if it did in fact involve that – it would be a point widely advertised and feared in heaven, it would be something used to keep the angels in line. But it isn’t, because it doesn’t happen. There’s no love to lose.

What does this mean for Crowley’s fall?

Well for a start it means he isn’t carrying around some hang up over having been divinely loved and then having this ripped away from him. At most he is feeling rejected by his employer or his political party leader, which I’m not saying isn’t something that would cause him to be hurt or upset, but it’s certainly less significant than losing something that equates to the human concept of motherly or divine love.

Also to me for all that Crowley says, “I didn’t mean to fall” and “all I did was ask questions,” he clearly chose to do so – he chose to keep asking, even knowing the consequences. He picked a side in the war and must have at least in part known what picking that side meant. He knew he wasn’t siding with the Almighty and he did so of his own free will. Choice is a major theme in Good Omens – Crowley made a choice between two sides and picked the one that he saw as the better option at the time (not the perfect option, he doesn’t much like hell either, but I think he liked that they weren’t pretending to be something they’re not). He repeatedly makes it clear throughout the series that he does not regret this choice. He doesn’t want to go back. He thinks heavens rules and actions are ridiculous. Yes he’d love to get the chance to ask the Almighty a few questions, but only because he wants to know what the fuck they were thinking with this whole ridiculous plan.

When he “prays” to the Almighty it’s not really praying, it’s not a sign of faith, he’s just lamenting at a person he knows exists that he thinks is doing stupid things. He’s basically putting in a complaint to head office, though he knows the CEO isn’t actually going to be replying. He never asks her for anything, he simply asks questions, gives his opinion and makes suggestions. “Show me a Great Plan” – there’s nothing great about this plan, what are you playing at? Show me a better one. “You said you were going to be testing them, but you shouldn’t test them to destruction” – I remember you said you were going to do this, but it completely sucks, it’s rubbish, you’re doing the wrong thing yet again in my opinion.

What Crowley regrets and hates is that any of them were forced to choose sides in the first place. We see this most clearly after he thinks he’s lost Aziraphale in the bookshop fire. He knows where Aziraphale has gone – to heaven – the one place he can’t follow, and it’s then that he laments, “I didn’t mean to fall.” Except he did mean to (he’s an unreliable narrator about the whole thing). What this is is the point at which he regrets falling because he realises that the choice he made so long ago has now separated him forever from the one being he actually cares about. Crowley’s default reaction when something goes wrong is to say he didn’t mean it to happen. It’s ironic that a demon who thinks everyone should get a choice denies his own informed choices at every turn, but then Crowley also believes in second chances for everyone. (Look how many chances he gives Aziraphale, then there’s Elspeth and even Job’s children, who, Jemimah excepted, are self-centred brats – they all deserve a second chance at life according to Crowley). He didn’t get one himself and I think that’s what he’s really upset about. I picked my side but there shouldn’t be sides at all and I shouldn’t have fallen because I should have been given another chance.

Any other points?

Yes, a completely contradictory one that goes back to the idea of the withdrawal of love being a new thing where all angels once were loved and this has been withdrawn from them all. I’ve given this some extra consideration partly because whilst there definitely doesn’t seem to be a concept of the fall being traumatic in the original book it’s not totally beyond the realms of possibility that Neil might be retrofitting the story and might play that angle a little in the last series and I wanted to think about how that might go. Since there doesn’t seem to be any love in heaven now I can’t imagine any scenario where this isn’t an all or nothing loss of love.

I’m just going restate right here that for the reasons I mentioned earlier I’m dubious about it ever becoming a thing – pre-fall Aziraphale and Crowley do not seem to be basking in heavenly love, but for the sake of this argument let’s imagine for a second that they are. Let’s imagine the Almighty created the angels and surrounded them with her divine love and grace.

Maybe after the war in heaven the Almighty is so hurt by the rebellion of some of her angels (because nothing can hurt you like the slight of someone you love deeply) that she withdraws her love entirely from all of them. Maybe that’s why the archangels are so bitter and twisted – they were the most loved, they have lost the most. Perhaps all angels are all living under this shadow of having been loved once upon a time but having had that love withdrawn. Maybe that’s why the angels stick so rigidly to the party line – perhaps in a way they are all traumatised. If we can just be good enough, if we can be perfect enough, if we can get the plan exactly right, maybe we will earn back the love of the Almighty.

If that’s the scenario then that’s the greatest tragedy of them all.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley #heaven #angels #love #the fall

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sulfurz · 9 months

Text

ೃ༄ SHIELDING FEELINGS (LITERALLY) (roman reigns x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

heyyyy!! i have a fluff request for roman x (fem) reader. it’s set in his shield days and the reader is a apart of the shield (or a really close allies with them whichever you want) and she’s kind of like the lita of the group. Her and roman have huge crushes on eachother and it’s so obvious to not only seth and dean/mox but the whole wwe universe. So the two guys try to come up with a plan to have them both confess to eachother 😅😅

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: this is pure humour and fluff! basically just himbos dean and seth struggling at playing cupid

ೃ༄WORD COUNT: 1.8k

ೃ༄ NOTE: hello lovely anon i got a BIT carried away with this i apologise but i hope it still works🥹 i had way too much fun writing shield as terrible matchmakers

dean ambrose had a plan.

albeit, it wasn’t a very well thought out one. but it was a plan of somewhat decent calibre.

you see, he had a lot of time for you, acting as shield’s manager and all. what he didn’t have time for was how goddamn dumb you could be sometimes (seth’s words, not his — although he very much agreed).

what was it that got dean so riled up, you ask? well it was the fact that you were so evidently in love with roman reigns, and yet never managed to say more than a pretty pathetic ‘uh, you look nice’ whenever the four of you were backstage.

even worse than you? roman. this man had not kept his crush on your quiet. apparently you were the only one who couldn’t see it, and yet instead of ever acting on said emotions, roman liked to play a fun game of hide from y/n in the locker rooms until it’s time for our match and then i only have to see her for five minutes before. this had, on many occasions, ended with dean nearly throwing him to the ground because of course all this was going to do was make you worry the very beautiful yet stubborn man hated you.

a pretty man, but clearly very little common sense, dean had concluded.

so that was when, after too many training sessions in which you’d sit in silence until your coach brought you into the conversation, he hatched his master plan.

now just to put it into action.

it just so happened the final member of the shield would be a perfect partner.

—

the plan was, in dean and seth’s eyes, bulletproof. they would probably have to undergo a pretty intense intervention afterwards considering how wrong they had been; but at first, their confidence was through the roof.

oh no, dean hurt his shoulder in practice — what a shame! good job seth was there to take him to the medic, a walk he definitely could have done on his own! but they were so smart, right? surely you and roman would talk about something if forced to coinhabit the same space without a buffer?

yeah. they really thought so too.

but after fifteen minutes of hiding behind a comically large stack of chairs, they felt it necessary to put the two of you out of your misery and cry that it was a false alarm.

maybe you two really were more hopeless than dean initially thought.

so came attempt two: the halloween party. because who doesn’t love a good dress up party?

apparently, cupid was more of a christmas fan.

as it happened, vast majority of people brought their dates to the work party, which dean and seth hadn’t planned for, but made the situation even more perfect. not to mention you and roman had accidentally both turned up dressed as demons (finn balor made a playful scene when you walked in) — it was practically a match made in heaven! or hell…

this attempt was easy in theory: set up a conversation about how fun dancing was, before abandoning the two of you at a table to take to the dancefloor themselves. surely you’d get fed up of being left out and want to join???? surely!

except, what dean and seth had failed to consider was that in the spirit of halloween, and the fact that some of the most iconic superstars in the roster loved a good prank, the place was practically decked out with tricks, instead of treats.

dean and seth observed quietly from the dancefloor (they had long since abandoned their girlfriends and were simply dancing together now, chest to chest (hey — this matchmaking was a taxing game!)), practically cheering when they saw the two of you finally getting somewhere.

roman stood, offering a hand to you with a good natured “if you can’t beat them, join them?”, and it was obvious the two of you were so close to finally making that first step as your hand reached for his—

then, a plastic skeleton hidden in a bowl of candy on your tabled decided to choose that moment to make its appearance very known.

and there went your glass of red wine, all down your favourite pantsuit (luckily — it was red too, but the dark patch across your chest was not doing you any favours).

roman very sweetly apologised on behalf of the skeleton, which was the very final part of the conversation seth and dean heard before you were scurrying away to change. they quite literally facepalmed as they walked over to a dumbfounded roman, who still played the entire situation off.

it seemed they’d have to step things up if they really wanted to get through the both of your very thick skulls.

so attempt three was… certainly less subtle.

worse still, it came only a month after the halloween party, when you were still in the thick of your ‘hiding from roman reigns’ era, so imagine your surprise when here comes dean ambrose and seth rollins, dragging roman up to you with the latter wearing an expression of confusion that surely mimicked you own.

“okay.” dean spoke, slamming a hand on the catering table “you, roman, like y/n.”

“you, y/n, like roman.” seth added.

then, like one of those old timely comedy acts, at the same time the men both exclaimed a “now talk!”

and to yours and roman’s credit… you did speak?

it’s not your fault the members of shield hadn’t made the topic entirely clear. it was obvious by now that when it came to roman, you were blind to any subtext, so they could hardly blame you for missing the mark.

“of course i like roman? he’s my friend?” you questioned warily, genuinely beginning to get concerned for the two men you considered friends.

“are you two okay?” roman added, genuine concern across his face as he outstretched a hand to slap seth? check him for a fever? both?

you hummed in confirmation, thinking back on every odd occurrence that had happened between you and roman recently, realising that the common denominator in every situation was the two other members of the stable you managed probably saying something extremely dumb.

—

eventually, dean and seth had to admit they were terrible matchmakers.

when the christmas party that same year had been announced, they very nearly put another thing together, but a swift reminder from the wonderful (and honestly; terrifying) randy orton, the two were reminded of every failed attempt in the past, and their plan unravelled before it had even found it’s feet.

as would turn out, when there wasn’t two idiots meddling, that was when things unfolded themselves.

after the many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate lately, you weren’t expecting roman to approach you mid way through the party. he had spent pretty much the entire night hovering on the opposite side of the room, and for good reason to. you were a liability after all, and his suit shirt was too nice to end up with wine on it. you had opted for white wine instead this time though, just incase.

“hi.” a deep voice came from behind you.

you had been watching triple h and stephanie dancing together for the best part of half an hour, nursing your glass of wine contentedly until the voice behind you had startled you. your glass wobbled in your hand in a terrifying suggested repeat of the halloween event, but roman was prepared this time, swiftly reaching a hand around you and saving it from disaster.

“i should have probably learnt not to sneak up on you.” he joked, motioning with your (thankfully still full) wine glass in his hand before he handed it back to you.

“i certainly learnt that red wine is tasty but dangerous.” you played along, your heart doing a weird thumping thing at how roman chuckled.

“i’m sorry if the other guys ever made you feel uncomfortable.” roman said genuinely, catching you off guard. it was rare you spoke, let alone when the topics brushed a level of seriousness. “we love having you working with us as shield, but they don’t know when to turn off the jokes sometimes.”

you shook your head quickly, hating the idea that roman was concerned about you. sure, dean and seth were idiots at the best of times, but it was a huge part of their charm. from them trying to break roman during promos to their odd, but intriguing backstage celebrations, the slight unhinged enthusiasm was what you loved.

“trust me. i love working with them. with, with you all.” you added at the last second, not missing the slight upper curl in the corner of roman’s mouth when he realised he was included.

you could already feel the blush creeping to your cheeks just because of all his attention being on you, and you knew you were just seconds away from blurting something stupid, when an equally annoying cough came from your side.

comically, both you and roman turned your heads at the same time to see the entirely expected source of the disturbance.

seth and dean were standing a little while away, watching you with the biggest grins you had ever seen. arguably bigger than whenever your team won.

when you realised what was causing their giggles, your heart stopped.

you had casually followed dean’s eyeline, just a simple attempt to see if you could figure out the cause, when you found it immediately. and it seemed roman did too.

mistletoe. hung exactly above where the two of you stood.

you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, going to take a step back but being prevented by a gentle, yet grounding touch to your wrist. when you looked back at roman, he was closer than before, and it was practically an instinct how your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“in the spirit of christmas, right?” he asked, a grin that told it was more than just christmas spirit, and in fact something he had been trying to tell you for a while.

still, you took your time, placing a cautious hand on his bicep as you leant in to connect your lips to his. “in the spirit of christmas.”

#✍🏻 requests : anon #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns scenario #roman reigns #wwe imagines #the shield #dean ambrose #seth rollins

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

Note

Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

#ough i listened to this song on repeat while editing this </3 #hurts like a bish #clanask #good omens x reader #good omens 2 spoilers #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #immortal reader #angst

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

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pearl: august 1984

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2k chapter summary: goodbyes are always hard. and as eddie comes to learn, they're especially hard when they happen with a person you love.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, angsty, hard goodbyes, self-doubt / insecurities, mentions of recreational drug use, use of pet names - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

The day Eddie had been dreading for months has finally arrived.

His best friend was leaving to start an adventure in college and she was doing so… without him.

He really shouldn’t be this upset, after all, he’d been anticipating this moment ever since the two of you found out he wouldn’t get passable grades. But as he watched you pack the rest of the boxes into your parents car, his heart ached. It was suddenly all too real.

The two of you spent the entire summer trying to knock off as many items as you possibly could off a spontaneous bucket list you once came up with while high. From camping in the woods, then watching the sunset and sunrise together, randomly putting up Christmas decorations in July (the trailer looked like something out of a holiday special, for which Wayne almost killed you both), to even getting small matching tattoos — your initials on the inside of your right pinkies. The two of you completed every ridiculous thing on that list and honestly had the time of your lives while doing so.

“We should come up with a new list for next summer,” you muse, sitting with your legs dangling off the edge of the roof of your parents house.

Eddie smirks. He’s next to you, laying down and looking up at the cotton-candy clouds above as he gently rubs his hand on the bare skin of your lower back in a circular motion. The two of you had been in this position for the last twenty minutes, talking about nothing and everything all at once. And Eddie’s not a religious person by any means, but he thinks this is what heaven must feel like. He’s sure of it, actually.

“Maybe we could go on a mini road trip? Hm?” You continue, glancing back at your best friend's relaxed frame. “Celebrate you graduating in style, in New Orleans, as opposed to the stupid Hideout. What do you think?”

He smiles at the thought. He smiles at the fact you’re actually planning to still be in his life next year, never mind going on a trip together, despite your clear ability to make friends anywhere you go. Then, because of the same exact reason, his smile falters and he sits up slightly, propping himself up on his forearms before tilting his head as he looks at you.

“What if you meet someone new?” Eddie ponders and although the tone of his voice is teasing, the expression on his face is filled with worry. “You’re not gonna want to celebrate my delayed High School graduation when you could be goin’ on some fancy trip with your fancy college friends.”

You roll your eyes then lay backwards, leaning against his side. “Why would I want to make new friends when the one I have now provides me with enough dramatics?”

The tease earns you a melodic chuckle and a poke to your ribcage.

“Ha!” Eddie mocks, “You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re being stupid, so just agree to the New Orleans plan and shut up ‘cause all I’m tryin’ to do is have another perfect summer.”

Eddie huffs lightheartedly before laying back down, one arm now around your shoulder, holding you close. The giggles die down slowly and he lets out a content sigh.

“Shit, princess. I gotta be honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to create anything nearly as perfect as this.”

And for Eddie, it really was the perfect summer with the perfect girl. His girl.

Unfortunately for him, his girl was playing tetris with her belongings, making sure it all fit in the boot of the car, as he watched with a sullen look on his face because you weren't really his and this would be the last time you two saw each other at least until Thanksgiving.

Eddie realised his feelings for you developed into something he wasn’t used to after that afternoon in the back of his van, back in March, when he sang Me and Bobby McGee to you. Ever since then, he had tried to navigate around this unforeseen situation and later, the last few weeks to be exact, he even tried to tell you how he felt on numerous different occasions. Well, actually, tried is a strong word.

The correct expression would be he thought about telling you, but every time the moment felt somewhat right, he chickened out. His insecurities got the better of him because what if he didn’t really like you in a romantic way, just made himself believe that he did since you were leaving and his mind was selfishly trying to convince him professing his feelings would get you to stay. Or worse. He was scared to be honest ‘cause what if you didn’t feel the same way and he just flushed years of friendship down the drain.

But right this second, despite all perceived consequences and scenarios he replayed in his head on loop, Eddie was full of regret. He should have been honest with you since, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if you liked him back ‘cause he’d remain your friend regardless. You, your friendship, meant more to him than any potential relationship.

“Eds,” you hail him back to reality, “Can you be a gentleman and help me with my last suitcases? They’re all that’s left in my room.”

He nods, plastering a fake smile on his face, and follows you inside.

The once colourfully decorated bedroom, your safe space as well as his, was now pretty much empty. Everything was gone, aside from permanent pieces of furniture, random posters, awards for different high school accomplishments, and knick knacks you thought were too childish for college.

You point to the suitcases you would like for him to take, but Eddie's distracted. His eyes are darting around the space. He's remembering where things used to be and all the memories associated with them, and he seriously thinks there’s nothing left to do but break down.

“Eddie,” you say in a soft tone, standing in front of him, “Are you okay?”

All he can do is shake his head. The action, albeit small, was enough for you to drop the bag you were holding and wrap your arms around him.

The hug is intense yet gentle all at the same time. You rest the palms of your hands on his back as he lifts his own arms to hold you in place by your waist, grip tightening with every passing second. And he’s a complete goner. Head over heels. I think I like you as more than just my best friend, he thinks to himself and it really takes everything he’s got not to say those words out loud.

Instead, Eddie gets lost in the scent of your perfume and the comfort of your delicate breathing into his frame. He’s memorising how your touch feels, how peaceful it is to simply be hugged by you. He wants to remember this forever and be able to think about it when you’re a thousand miles away.

He's not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like this for. Not like he cares, though. He wishes you could remain in this position forever. Reality unfortunately strikes when he hears you sniffling into his raggedy t-shirt. You proceed to reluctantly pull away and wipe your nose along with any lone tears that may have escaped while the two of you hugged, before offering him a warm smile.

“I-I actually have something for you,” you say and retrieves a cassette tape from the back pocket of your jeans. “I was going to give this to you when we said our final goodbyes, but I guess it doesn’t have to wait. Here.”

Eddie reaches for the gift and for the first time all morning, the smile on his face is genuine. It’s a copy of Janis Joplin’s Pearl.

“It’s my tape. The same one we listened to in your van that time,” you explain as his fingers graze across the cracked case. “I wanted to get you a new one but I figured the sentimental value of this one is priceless. After all, one of my favourite memories with you is associated with this specific tape.”

That’s when the metalhead looks up to catch your eye.

“I can’t accept this.”

“No, no, no,” you protest, “It would really mean a lot to me if you took it, Eddie. I kinda like the thought of you listening to it when I’m a thousand miles away.” There’s a brief pause as you hesitate, “Maybe you’ll even think of your best friend when Me and Bobby McGee plays.”

There’s a glimmer in your eyes that Eddie can’t quite decipher, though, it’s a look that makes him want to reach out for you and wrap his arms around you once again.

So that’s exactly what he does.

He slides the tape into one of the pockets of his denim jacket before pulling you into another embrace. You slam gently into his chest, smiling wide, and let out content hum as Eddie places a kiss on your crown.

This was your last moment together for months. Months. That terrified you both equally. Since the two of you first started hanging out, you’ve only ever been apart for maybe a day or two at a time — usually when either of you was sick, but even then you’d find a way to see each other, if only through a bedroom window.

Eddie was also fortunate enough that your parents really liked him. They never judged him by his appearance or thought of him any less because of the way he was brought up. Even with your dad being a police officer, bailing the curly-haired teen out of trouble on more than one occasion, your parents were always supportive of your friendship.

He’s gonna miss the Thursday dinners at your house. The family trips he was always invited to join. Learning how to fix up cars with your dad while you sat on a broken chair in the corner of the garage and did your homework. And even though Eddie knows that even with you away at college, he always has support in your parents, the thought of doing any mundane task without you, makes him sorrowful.

“I’ll never not be thinking of you, princess.” Eddie announces honestly. “Even when you’re making new friends and are busy forgetting all about me,” he tries to joke, but it just pains him more, “You are always, always, going to be on my mind.”

He thinks then that his feelings are indeed genuine. He’s convinced mainly because this feels right. Him and you, holding each other like this. It feels… right. And his heart grows fonder as you squeeze him tighter, plus he swears there’s an aura around the two of you, glowing a bright fucking pink like in the comics he’s always telling you to read. Jesus Christ. Screw “liking” you. He may actually even be deeply fucking in love with you.

Which is exactly why he cannot tell you. Especially now.

You deserve to say goodbye to Hawkins, even if it’s just temporary, and get the education you’ve been dreaming of ever since he’s known you, meet new and interesting people, and make memories that he’ll gladly listen to detailed retellings of. Eddie knows if he told you right now, whether you felt the same way or not, you would feel guilty for leaving. You wouldn’t enjoy yourself as much as a college experience is supposed to be enjoyed ‘cause you’d be constantly thinking of him.

Eddie couldn’t do that to you. Not now. Maybe one day he would admit it to you: “Princess, I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen.”. Honestly, he doesn’t mind that at all. Just depends on where your life takes you, which he selfishly hopes isn’t too far away from him.

“Shit, I am really gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Eddie.”

pearl masterlist | main masterlist

thank you for reading <3

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson best friend #bestfriend!eddie #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson story #eddie munson series #pearl (eddies version)

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secretdiaryofcrowley · 14 days

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“Hello, Traitor.”

How?

How, how, how? How can she be in here?

I just got used to the fact that my Bentley has angelic protection now. And that protection didn't fade away when my angel left for Heaven. Demons can't be in here; they’d have to be invited in.

Shax obviously can. “I was going to pull you down to my new office, as it seems befitting for my new position. But you’re so miserable already, I didn’t want to drag you out of your safe space."

No, you just wanna throw it right into my face that you can be in said safe space without any consequences. Don't think I don't recognize your tactics.

"Besides, Hell doesn’t need to know about our little talk, do they?”

"Oh, are we having a talk?" Slouching in my seat I lean back, giving her my cheekiest smirk. Oh, I can feel her new powers emanating from her and I don't know what she's capable of, but there's no way in Hell, I'll show her any fear. Two can play this game.

"We are. I brought chocolates."

"Chocolates?" My face freezes again, this time with astonishment. "You honestly think, I can be won over with chocolates?"

She eyes me from the side. "Well, my first intent was using death threats, but after watching you cry and whine and sob all these last months, I didn't think you would mind discorporation or even destruction so much. If I threatened you, you'd probably respond with something like: 'I don't want to live without my angel!' or 'Please kill me already.' So, I decided not to do you that favour.”

All these last months watching Crowley TV? “Oh, so glad, I could contribute to your amusement with my misery.”

“You couldn’t. Although my associate quite enjoyed seeing you like this... Oh, that was sarcasm, wasn’t it? I’m getting very good at spotting it.”

“Oh, are you? My sincerest congratulations on making Duchess of Hell, then.”

“Thank you.” Shax looks very pleased with herself. “Finally, the next step in my career. Beelzebub was right about their departure offering chances. It won’t stop at this stage, though. I have great plans for my future.”

“Lemme guess.” I take a closer look at the box of chocolates lying on the dashboard. “Grand Duchess of Hell, Princess of Hell, Mother of Demons…”

She brought schnapspralinen. What am I gonna be, a kangaroo? Oh, but there’s whiskey and rum and vodka and ouzo and eau de vie and sake... oh, my! Pity, they aren’t full bottles, just tiny sips covered in chocolate.

“You’ve been out of Hell for a while.” Shax frowns, her giant face hovering over me. “But you do remember that demons don’t have… Crowley, what are you doing?”

“Right.” It’s all just a question of size, isn’t it? I’ll think, I’ll start with that round piece of cherry brandy. Ngk… why does that stupid pen have to be so heavy? And… bam! Nice little holey hole! Keep the good stuff flowing.

“Crowley! Will you stop this nonsense?”

She reaches for me, but I’m quicker, jumping down on the steering wheel to evade her hand. “What? A gift is a gift!”

“I want you to work for me, Crowley. You’ll get to be Duke of Hell, once I’m Grand Duchess. And you can have your flat back.”

“The Bentley’s fine. Lots and lots and lots of space for me to enjoy.” I slide down on one side of the steering wheel (hey, this is fun) and start to climb over the radio to get back on the dashboard.

This time, she’s quicker. Her hand comes down on me and she grabs me between her gloved fingers. “I could just squash you like a bug.”

“Right.” Tiny little tears spurt from my eyes. “My angel has left me for Heaven, please be merciful and end my suffering.”

“No. Stop being so pathetic.” She sets me down and I reach for the pen again. Your vodka’s mine, you pear-shaped piece of brittle chocolate. Hand it over right now!

There’s simply no way in Heaven or Hell I’m having the rest of this conversation sober.

~*~

More Diary Parts

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #shax #shax duchess of hell #shax has plans #crowley is tiny #aziraphale x crowley #shax good omens #crowley's bentley

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the-burd-lord · 12 days

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Finally am confident enough to post my redesign of Charlie. Buckle up cause it’s a lot!

Kept her simple since I think her original design is kinda alright, but went with the doll aesthetic more.

Made her design simple enough for it to stand out in most any environment within Hell. Should probably have made a colored version for her, but I'm keeping the white and pink from her original design, but making her outfit yellow to compliment the reds of Hell and the blues of Heaven.

Here’s the newest design although I'm still fiddling around with different variations for the marks on her face, shown later in this post. Might lean towards stop motion look with how the mouths of the characters are always a separate segment from the face.

Eventually she goes from bellhop to more of a concierge roll as she gains more confidence in running the hotel, and eventually becomes the defacto ruler of Purgatory.