#you are the closest thing to heaven that I have

[tobiasdrake]

By the way, while we're talking about Gohan, Piccolo, and that moment, I want to take a moment to focus in on what he says here. Because it's fascinating to really stop and think about.

In his dying moments, Piccolo says this to Gohan.

"You were the only one who ever really talked to me."

Piccolo's existence is so complicated at this point that there's some ambiguity here. The first person ever to really talk to him. That's a bold statement. What does he mean by that?

What does Piccolo mean when he says "ever"? Let's stop to really think about that.

The first interpretation is that he's referring to this incarnation of himself. Going back to the day he was "born" anew.

I love how he was born wearing clothes apparently. Maybe he popped out of that egg and immediately used his signature Clothes Beam, an obscure technique but a valuable one.

For real, Piccolo's ability to create matter from ki is probably the most underutilized ability in Dragon Ball. This is, like, the one and only time we ever see it. It is never explained. Even Cell wound up having to create his arena from existing resources nearby.

But I digress.

Piccolo was reborn to finish the work he'd started: Kill Son Goku and take over the world. The 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai was his opportunity to do just that.

So. When Piccolo says "ever", he's talking about this, right? He talks to attendees at the tournament but their interactions are strictly hostile. He's here to kill Goku; He's not interested in socializing.

This is the closest thing to a friendly chat that this incarnation of Piccolo ever had prior to Gohan's training. So it's easy to hear him say "You were the only one who ever really talked to me," and go, "Yeah, that checks out." Though that's not really their fault.

But. Hang on. Piccolo's sense of self goes back further than that.

"Majunior" is always referred to and always refers to himself as though he and Piccolo-Daimao were one and the same. He is not Piccolo's son. He's a copy, splintered off from the Daimao and given a new body.

Kami explains it like this.

Effectively, Daimao split himself in two. One piece of him created the egg and sent it across the horizon for the other piece to escape inside, and that piece hatched into "Majunior".

It's a popular fanon to treat Piccolo Jr. like he's a totally newborn baby saddled with the Sins of the Father, but this is never how the source material treats him. Piccolo is Piccolo is Piccolo; the two are one and the same. Except one's a Mazoku and the other is not.

A revelation that comes at the cost of Goku and Raditz's lives.

So when he says "You were the only one who ever really talked to me," he's probably not talking about this incarnation. He's probably reaching all the way back to the birth of Piccolo as an entity.

When the Nameless Namekian ascended to the throne of God, he had to purge himself of the evil that had accumulated in his soul. That evil took form and shape, and it became Piccolo.

Given the description of Piccolo having "escaped", it sounds like they tried to imprison him moments after he first came into being. Makes sense; He's literally evil incarnate. A half-person Mazoku formed of pure evil, incapable of moral agency. Why would you want to let that loose?

But they failed. Piccolo got free and descended from Heaven into the human realm to wreak untold havoc upon humanity.

So. Y'know. Nobody's out there having civil chats with that.

...

But. Hang on. Piccolo's sense of self goes back even further than that, doesn't it? After all. As much as "Majunior" is a fragment of Piccolo-Daimao, Piccolo-Daimao too is a fragment of the Nameless Namekian, and he retains that knowledge, memory, and experience as well.

When Piccolo and God begin to speak candidly with one another in the ring, they don't speak Japanese. Instead, they're speaking their own language. A language not of this Earth. With courtesy translation for the audience.

They are speaking the Namekian language. A language from a race neither Piccolo nor God even knows exists. This is confirmed by Bulma and Popo, when they discover the Nameless Namekian's spacecraft.

This was the first language Piccolo ever knew, in the very first incarnation of himself.

This isn't God's history he's sharing. It's theirs, his and Piccolo's together.

Because Piccolo is pure evil. But he isn't. Like. The concept of evil. He is Nameless's evil. The corruption, the bitterness and resentment and fear and anger and uncertainty and despair that's cultivated in his heart over a lifetime of loneliness and isolation.

A Ryuzoku Namekian, child of Katatsu, sent to Earth to escape a climate catastrophe that destroyed their planet and killed their entire race, but two. An orphaned child landing in a deserted wasteland with nothing but an empty promise from a parent who would never make the trip.

We don't know what happened between then and his ascension to Godhood. All we know is that these days were spent alone. And a worm of evil grew in his heart.

This, it should be noted, is not standard procedure for becoming God. When Dende took the throne, he did not have to do anything to purify himself.

That's basically the entire vetting procedure for Dende's ascension.

The way God describes the process, creating Piccolo was something unique to his experience, because his predecessor had noticed a growing darkness unworthy of God inside of him.

I legitimately wonder if God spit Piccolo out as an egg, the way he later spit out the egg of his copy.

In the Namekian language, the word "Piccolo" means "Another world".

It's a word that Nameless knew intimately. Not just because it's from the first spoken language he ever knew. But because that voice command opened and closed his home.

Every day of his lonely life, waiting for a parent that would never come, this is how he came and went. Piccolo as he goes out and Piccolo again once he steps outside. Piccolo on his return and Piccolo once he's safe inside the only home he knows. Piccolo, Piccolo. Piccolo, Piccolo. This word defined his childhood.

This word was the only parent he had.

When he fractured, breaking off the darkness in his soul and externalizing it into a new body, that body took Piccolo as his name.

This has been his existence, since before he could remember. The life of a Namekian whose name has been lost to time. The man who became the man who became Piccolo. God, in his temple in heaven, has Popo by his side to offer companionship and assistance. But for the life he lived before that and for the part of him that fractured off, not once in this long and winding 300-year journey has he ever had a friend.

So when you really stop and take a look at where not just the original Piccolo but the original came from, at the foundation of where Piccolo truly began, those words take on a bit of a different meaning, don't they?

When Piccolo says, "You were the only one who ever really talked to me," that cuts a little deeper when you stop to really think about it.

[theealbatross]

love is the most twisted curse of all (shadow trio headcannon)

Plot: How the Shadow Trio expresses their love and the price they willingly pay for it.

Tags: dark-ish, unhealthy friendships/relationships, platonic (or not depends on your interpretation), codependency, manipulation, aged up, implied crimes, implied murder, slytherins can't love normally, implied seb x mc if u squint, traumatized!slytherins can't accept healthy love, seb and mc are dark wizards, auror!sebastian, my opinion only, might be ooc

[A/N: Photos (except two) are not mine! This is something short I wrote because i can't get it out of my head lol]

Ominis Gaunt: The Heir

. Ominis loves by doing what is necessary.

. A perfect Slytherin through and through, Ominis (whether he is aware or not) lives the closest truth to the Slytherin motto. Anything that is 'his' is protected at any and all cost.

. There is no heaven high enough he won't reach or a hell low enough that he won't crawl in if it meant saving the people dearest to him.

. Like the perfect slytherin heir Ominis is akin to a snake, his morality slithering and bending to fit his narrative. His bones creak, skin stretching as he wraps himself around his loved ones until they are untouchable.

. He is aware of his flaws but he is not so honorable to fix it. He knows the real world -- the darker side of the wizarding world's high society, one that his companions aren't too familiar with -- and he will move hell and high water to protect them from it in the shadows.

. Dark Spells being used a bit too closely in where Sebastian is stationed? It must be those damned dark wizards, Minister. Isn't Auror Sallow so gallant in facing those pests?

. Poacher corpses leading a trail to you? Surely, such stains of the wizarding world wouldn't be missed. The Hero of Hogwarts did us all a favor, it would be a shame to condemn such heroics.

. Suspicious rumors following his friends? Not while he was at the top of high society, manipulating reputations and snuffing out nonbelievers. Any tongue that rises against them will be cut.

. He is a Gaunt, and as much as he loathes the dark history behind his name -- he knows how to wield its power. He is the only one who can properly wield it and it is a sword he is willing to use -- if necessary.

Sebastian Sallow: The Prodigy

. Sebastian loves by monopolizing.

. As a boy who lost too much at such a young age, his entire world surrounds the few people he considers his own. And if you are one of his people know his whole world will surround you.

. He has to have access and knowledge of his loved ones at all times. In-depth, illegal, background checks on all people his pretty witch associates herself with? Fair game, it's for your safety, darling. Charmed pieces of jewelry that lets him know of your location at all times? Christmas and birthday gifts from him to you, wear it at all times or he'll charm it so it never gets removed. A ring that will transport Ominis to his side at the first sign of danger? Ominis you are far too important a person to put your life on mere Aurors hands, I'll handle it.

. Normal people would be put off but after all the things the three of you have been through, putting your lives and safety in Sebastian's hands is the best course of action. It is for your own good, after all.

. Sebastian is fully aware he has unfortunately been cursed with having brilliant friends with bounties in their heads in the underworld. Therefore, the best course of action would be the one to rule it.

. Living a double life as the honorable Head Auror and a dark wizard was not for the weak but Sebastian has always been used to compartmentalizing different faces for different facets of his life. A brilliant student, a delinquent, a doting brother, a traitor, a partner in crime, a merciless murderer. He'll wear any and all masks and become the monster he is required to be if it meant he got to keep you.

. Sebastian doesn't have a lot of people he loves so he will not ask for forgiveness in how he protects those that is willing to be loved by him. They're his -- his to love, his to protect, his to consume.

. And he'll let all the curses and corpses pile up into a mountain of sins before he'll lose anyone ever again.

MC: The Hero

. She loves through devotion.

. Once you consider them as a friend they can do no wrong in your eyes and if they do commit mistakes you will dig the deepest pit to bury it in with your own bare hands.

. Being told you were special, you were different, you were powerful at a very early age fractured your reality. The world is your oyster, it will be whatever you deem it to become.

. For what is power if you can't even help those you love the most?

. Do you want me to take care of 'it', Omi? You know I hate it when you strain yourself with politics. Someone tried to take Sebastian to court for excessive violence? Who is it? Are you going to handle it or should I? Why can't they just let him be?

. You will follow them blindly at whatever corner of the earth they are calling from. Anything that has to do with them is a priority of the highest order as far as you are concerned-- so much so that people have to go to Ominis and Sebastian first to convince them to convince you to help.

.There is no such thing as a good or bad anymore -- you will stand on whatever side they are on, and the rest of the world can decide if they want to stand with you or against you.

. There will be no such thing as a consequence if you had anything to say about it. And you had the final say about everything.

. All will always be well for you and everyone you love. You will make sure of it.

.You are special, after all.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Since the post about gusion babysitting I've been thinking, do you think the nobles that raised the kings miss have a kid about? Like imagine Mc is playing with some of the remaining demon kids and we accidentally give the nobles baby fever (especially gusion, I feel like he'd secretly have a big soft spot for kids)

Whb nobles getting baby-fever

Paimon loved taking care of Satan when he was just a little boy and not the king of Gehenna. He kind of misses the feeling of raising a child, and the war prevents him from adopting. He spends a lot of time in the orphanage playing with the kids, but there's only so much you can do when there's a war outside. He would take you to the orphanage with him. Even though the children are too young to remember Solomon, they still have heard about the great sorcerer so they'll be very happy to meet his child. When you start getting along with the younglings, Paimon can't help but daydream of a future where the two of you run after a little devil of your own.

Even though Buer moved from his previous region, he still has fond memories of taking care of Mammon, even if he was a sickly child. Paradise Lost doesn't have children native to it, the closest thing being Gamigin, but he's too old to be considered a child in the traditional sense. In his case, you would be playing with some new born puppies and helping Buer nurse them. He appreciates your caring nature and the patience you show towards the little creatures... it even makes him think about possibly having a child with you. Once the war ends and the demand for healers lessens, he'll make sure to ask you if you're willing to co-parent alongside him a new generation of healers.

Since Bael knows the type of country he rules over, he tries to stay vigilent and make sure that the children of Abysos don't overdose on something fishy. They already have a population problem, the last thing they need is for the few children left to die from his own ignorance. When he sees you playing with some of the younger devils, his heart can't help but melt. He was blessed to meet you and he'll try his hardest to show you that in the limited amount of time he can spend with you. Bael will hug you from behind and put his head on your sholder before whispering softly in your ear. "I can't wait for the two of us to have a kid as well. You'd make for such a great parent."

Phenix is constantly in the baby making mood. His proximity to Asmodeus for all these years have insured that all rationality leaves his brain and he can only thing of sex and violence. But that's kind of the norm in Abaddon, and Phenix is loyal to his king so gets to babysit the newest prince of hell - Dantalian. Even though Dantalian is an adult now, he's still young in the eyes of many. If Phenix were to see you acting motherly to the prince, he'd cum on the spot. He's come closer to you and hump your thigh while blabbering about how good of a parent you'd be and how he wants to breed you. Maybe Dantalian will be nice enough to teleport you to a private room, maybe he'll just take this oportunity to sneak off to Heaven, maybe he'll join in. The point is, you're not leaving until you're fucked silly by Phenix.

Gusion is still a teacher as a part time job. He kills angels, he does the paperwork that Belphegor's supposed to be doing and he teaches the multiplication table to toddlers. The quickest way to give this man a boner is to be a teacher. He likes to think of himself as rational, so clearly he's not having 'baby fever' he's just found the perfect mate. You're beautiful, have great genetics, are good with children and you're smart enough to understand a subject and than teach it to someone else. He's going to send you a very long letter that boils down to "let me smash, babygirl". At least that's what Bathin told you it was, Gusion's handwriting is shit so you need a translator most of the time.

[spencerslover-blog]

I just don't wanna miss you tonight and I don't want the world to see me 'cause I don't think that they'd understand, when everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am.

[a-wintone]

"You've called the wrong person."

[transgender-catboy]

They really don't warning you about all the dumb little things you'll cry about after you lose someone

[cruelprincae]

to be frank with you, this is the most bull thing I've ever read in my entire life.

[puthyflapps]

toni absolutely should've admitted that she found shelby kicking her hot because we all know she did🔥 she also should've admitted that if she wasn't so preoccupied with dying she would've found shelby mounting her even hotter.. then in a super flirty voice ask if maybe she'd do that again sometime under better circumstances because she promises this time around girl can put whatever she wants in her mouth and she won't resist one bit

I could absolutely 1000% see that happening and I just know that the conversation would’ve started out rather innocently before devolving into filth. X

The two of them splayed out on their makeshift bed one lazy afternoon. There were no other sounds except for the occasional smacking of lips when the need to kiss became too strong to ignore. It was the kind of thing people write cheesy romance novels about. The kind of pure perfection that leads people to scrawl out paragraph after paragraph of lovesick words. Shelby had spent so long believing that she’d never have something like this. She buried any hope of experiencing this kind of love deep in the recesses of her soul but now, she was there with Toni. She was there with Toni and it was the closest she’d ever felt to heaven so when the admission slipped past her lips, she didn’t even spare it another thought.

“I think I’ve always been attracted to you.”

“Hmmm?”

A gruff voice responded as sleepy, brown eyes flicked over to inspect the source of the declaration.

“I said I think I’ve always been attracted to you. Like when I think back to that very first day, on the plane,” Shelby paused briefly as she mulled over the best way to explain this realization of hers.

Her finger loosened its hold on one of Toni’s curly locks and soon found its way to the girl’s sharp jawline. Shelby traced her way from the sensitive spot right beneath her girlfriend’s ear to the tip of her chin where an almost imperceptible scar lay – the result of a biking accident. Right over her handlebars! Shelby could still hear Martha exclaiming.

A soft kiss on her temple managed to bring her out of her thoughts and silently encourage her to continue.

“I saw you when I first boarded and I felt like I couldn’t stop looking at you. Then, later, when you were eating that piece of cake you were just so…obnoxious.”

Toni chuckled beside her as she recalled some of the horrified expressions that colored the other girls' faces as she opted to forgo the use of silverware that day.

“Obnoxious, huh?”

“In a good way, the best way actually,” the blonde responded earnestly.

“So you were turned on by my obnoxiousness?”

Toni asked with a teasing lilt to her voice which caused Shelby to instinctively roll her eyes. The finger that had been tracing the other girl’s features finally stilled. There was a solitary beat and then:

“You were so unapologetically yourself and looking back, I don’t know if I had the right words to describe exactly what I was feeling or maybe I did and I was just too scared to admit it to myself but, I thought it…I thought you were cute. Chaotic cake eating habits and all.”

There was a flash of something in those honey-brown eyes that Shelby had come to love so much. Pride, maybe. Toni had found herself a front-row seat to Shelby's recent journey of self-discovery and to finally bear witness to the girl admitting her attraction without any sort of hesitation lining her voice – it made Toni feel proud, to say the least. But still, something else flickered behind those kind eyes. A twinkle of something deeper; A glimmer of adoration for the girl before her; An adoration that Shelby wasn't sure she entirely deserved and honestly, the way Toni looked at her like she personally hung the moon and all its stars made her nervous. It made her heart twist and her stomach do flips because she couldn't figure out what she'd ever done to deserve to be looked at with such reverence and love.

Toni had to have noticed the shift in her demeanor. She, too, must've felt the heaviness settle over them. So, she did what she'd always been so good at; she pulled the green-eyed girl out of her swirling thoughts with astonishing ease. She placed a chaste kiss on full, pink lips before cracking a dumb joke that she had concocted for no other reason than to make Shelby laugh.

"You thought I was cute? Explains why you couldn't keep your hands off me that day," Toni rasped out in that familiar spirited tone of hers but there was also a trace of that self-assured cockiness that Shelby found both infuriating and sexy.

"Oh my god," she grumbled in faux annoyance which only served to spur the brunette on. A lopsided grin spread its way across the basketball player's face as she continued to pester her girlfriend.

"I get it, though. The white-hot attraction to me you must've felt. All this flyness is pretty hard to resist."

Laughter erupted from deep within Shelby’s chest and spread throughout her whole being. She practically vibrated with happiness. No one made her laugh the way Toni did and she was forever grateful for her ability to bring a sense of levity to even the most difficult moments. Shelby was never able to stew in her angst or let the doom and gloom cling to her for very long because Toni was always right there; ready to make a fool of herself if it meant the girl she loved might crack a smile in her direction.

She’d vehemently deny it but, Toni was sweet. Tooth-rottingly sweet, in fact. She tried to mask it, hide it away from the world so as not to get hurt but it was always there. Shelby could always see it bubbling beneath the surface. She felt it nonstop. She could sense it right at that moment as she laid her head on the other girl’s chest – finally satisfied with the number of kisses she’d managed to pepper all over her love’s face. The sweetness just oozed out of Toni. It overflowed rapidly and Shelby was more than willing to be swept away in its river.

“When did you know?”

The question fell from Shelby’s lips after every last stray giggle had finally left her body.

“That I was attracted to you? That’s not exactly a fair question.”

“How so?”

“I mean, you're a fucking pageant champion, Bee. Which means objectively speaking, you’re like the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Toni explained with conviction coating her every word. It left Shelby feeling like a thousand butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach. The blonde’s heart thumped fast as she thought about the other girl’s answer. she struggled to wrap her mind around the way in which Toni seemed so sure of what she was saying. She couldn’t believe that out of the 7 billion people in this world, Toni had decided she was the most beautiful of them all.

For the longest time, Shelby felt like her soul was riddled with these sort of dark and depressing holes. There were these missing pieces that had been hidden away or torn from her very existence. A result of pushing her wants and desires down to appease everyone around her. However, when she was with Toni, it felt like she was whole again. Her girlfriend’s love had snaked its way into her heart and filled these empty spaces. She’d repaired the ugliest and most broken parts of Shelby.

So, if there ever came a time when Shelby was to have all her titles stripped away and was no longer permitted to compete in pageants she’d be perfectly fine because Toni thought she was beautiful and that was more than enough. No other opinion mattered more to Shelby than hers.

“Well…subjectively speaking, when did you realize?”

Shelby prodded as her mind returned to the conversation at hand. Despite all the flattery from her girlfriend that had left her head swimming, there was still a part of her that desperately wanted to know this bit of information. She craved this insight.

The two lay there peacefully for a while as Toni contemplated her answer. Shelby’s busy fingers moved underneath the brunette’s tank top to trace comforting patterns on soft skin. She’d just finished drawing an invisible heart on the girl’s hip bone when it seemed as though Toni had settled on an answer that satisfied her.

Curious green eyes met mischievous brown and the words Shelby hadn’t exactly been looking for tumbled out shortly thereafter:

"When you kicked me."

"What?"

Shelby asked incredulously.

Of course, Toni would find what could only be described as one of Shelby's most petulant moments attractive.

“I thought it was hot,” explained the girl below her with quite possibly the cheekiest smile Shelby had ever seen anyone bear.

“You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“Oh yeah?”

Shelby asked quirking her eyebrow in a flirtatious manner. The action elicited just the reaction she was looking for; Toni hastily rolled their bodies over so that she now hovered over Shelby. Her viridescent eyes watched with unrestrained hunger as Toni's lithe frame settled in between her pale thighs. Shelby began to scratch lightly at the nape of her girlfriend’s neck in that familiar way that soothed Toni but also drove her just a little crazy in the best of ways. She always loved the feeling of Shelby’s acrylics scratching trails of fire down her muscular back. Although, she loved it even more when the girl would gently drag her long nails through her wild brunette curls. Lightly scraping her scalp with every movement.

Toni dipped her head and began to place open-mouth kisses along the expanse of Shelby's neck. Her teeth lightly grazed the girl's pulse point before her tongue darted out to soothe the sensitive spot. She could feel frantic fingers tangle into her dark tresses and tug just hard enough to let her know that Shelby wanted her lips again. She needed to coat her tongue in all that is Toni. She needed to taste her so bad and Toni was more than willing to oblige.

"Mmmm you remember when I was sick and wouldn't take that pill from you?"

Toni asked in between rough kisses but she received no immediate answer. Shelby was far too busy trying to undo all the buttons on her white shorts. It was a sight Toni wanted to commit to memory. She never wanted to forget the way Shelby Goodkind looked at that moment with her messy golden locks spread out on giant palm leaves. Toni couldn’t bear the thought of not taking that moment to memorize every detail of Shelby’s body as she wrestled to free herself from the confines of her shorts. Heat pooled in Toni’s stomach and her heart seemed to beat faster every time she heard Shelby successfully pop another button open.

"You mounted me in front of everyone. Told me to 'swallow the fucking pill'”, she elaborated as the girl beneath her began to eagerly search for some kind of relief. Shelby's impatient hips canted forward, begging for some semblance of friction to ease the aching between her legs. The ache seemed to intensify tenfold when she felt one of Toni’s hands palm her breast through the thin material of her pink shirt. Tan fingers absentmindedly brushed over protruding peaks leaving Shelby in a state of desperation.

“Toni,” she practically moaned out the girl’s name; begging her, pleading with her to give her what she wanted.

But it seemed the brunette wasn’t quite ready to offer up that sweet, toe-curling release that the blonde craved so much. Instead, she decided to continue teasing her girlfriend.

"God, it would've been so much hotter if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with dying but you know,” Toni paused to watch Shelby squirm in excitement as the hand that held her breast finally started to move south towards the place she needed her most.

Her calloused hand slowly slid past the waistband of her girlfriend’s lacy underwear. She tried not to smile as she recalled the first few times they’d had sex and how Shelby had warned Toni that she better not rip her beloved garment. God, she loved that bossy side of Shelby that took control and made demands. It was rare to see Shelby shed her overly exuberant exterior but when she did, it left Toni’s head spinning and her heart thumping wildly.

That passion and fire are what had Toni leaning in to whisper one last playful remark before finally dipping her long, slender fingers into Shelby’s core:

“If you ever wanted to do that again, I promise I'll let you put whatever you want in my mouth."

[whimsyprinx]

do y’all think stars are happy

[hxzbinwrites]

Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!

Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS

In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.

Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.

——————

Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…

Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.

“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.

“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.

He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.

“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”

Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.

“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”

“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.

———————

About 20 years later

Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.

‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.

Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.

“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.

“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”

“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”

“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”

(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”

“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”

“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”

“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.

———————

Present Day

“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).

“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”

Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”

“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”

“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”

While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.

“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”

Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”

———————

Word Count: 1,560

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[peppermint-toads]

you don’t like doctor’s offices. especially not now. you don’t like the hypnotic hum of the fluorescent lights, the cabinets that’ve been there since the late 80’s, the pamphlets sitting in an acrylic holder telling you that you have options.

options. not anymore. because you’re sitting on the examination table about 16 weeks pregnant, waiting for the doctor.

“the baby looks healthy,” the doctor tells you, barging into the room without a knock. “i’m prescribing zofran for the nausea. the nurse will see you out.”

thank fucking god. you wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of this place. the best part about these visits was the walk home. they are usually quite pleasant. being pregnant in the summertime has its downfalls, but feeling the breeze in your hair and through your thin dress is your saving grace.

it’s just another bonus that you pass your favorite ice cream shop on the way home. you think you’ll have an affogato today, decaf, of course.

it smells like heaven in the shop, that cool, sweet smell from the coolers. your favorite. this is your saving grace, this affogato will solidify the day as a good one, despite the lingering feeling of doctor on you.

ice cream in hand, it’s finally time to go home. the walk is clearing your head already. you eat a spoonful of vanilla and sigh. maybe you ought to stop by the pharmacy for those meds. on second thought, that can be tomorrow’s task. you’ll be alright.

actually, maybe not. because you see simon riley’s stupid, bulking form walking towards you about a block away. fuck. shit fuck. you should hide. duck into the closest shop before he can come after you. but it’s no hope, you’re looking up and you’ve already made direct eye contact. nausea meds sound so good right now.

may as well keep going forward. it’s not like he’ll notice, anyway. you’re barely showing, but your white dress isn’t doing you any favors right now.

you’ll give a polite smile, duck your head, and all will be well. no stopping, no small talk, no—

simon is physically cornering you to a complete halt in the middle of the sidewalk, and there is nothing you can do about it. maybe if you curl your back in a little bit, the bump won’t be as noticeable.

“what are you doing? stop that.”

he is so gracefully referring to your posture.

“i don’t have time for this simon. i’ve got things to do.”

you walk sideways around him, and he follows.

“where are you coming from?”

you can’t help it. “you lost the right to ask that question when you fell off the face of the planet.”

you hear him grunt behind you and smile. great, no snide comments yet.

“you look different.”

shit. he’s jogging, catching up to you and walking by your side now. the breeze is picking up and you shift uncomfortably. the fabric of your dress is clinging to your stomach.

simon looks down, his intent is to see what you’re eating, but he catches a glimpse of your swollen stomach and freezes. he’s nearly swallowed by all the foot traffic.

“simon?” you feel the loss of him by your side. he’s stood still, strangers bumping into him and jostling his shoulders.

great. now you’re backtracking, when really all you want is to be at home, in bed.

“simon, what’s your problem?”

“you’re pregnant.”

time stops for him. he’s the father, no way he couldn’t be. unless you were cheating on him, which he highly doubts considering your heart is the purest thing he’s ever encountered during his time on this earth.

you let out a long, long sigh. “yeah.”

then you’re swaying, trying to keep upright and simultaneously swallowing down vomit. simon watches as the life drains from your face a bit. his hands are gripping your shoulders to stabilize you. his touch feels nice, warm.

“i need to get home,” you tell him with a sad smile, pained to be leaving his soft touch behind yet again.

“i’ll walk you.”

you nod. you don’t have the heart to ask him to take his hand off your waist, feels too good. and he’s keeping the world right side up.

it’s only a short distance home, and soon he’s ushering you up the stairs to your flat. you don’t stop him from doing that, either.

you also don’t stop him from pulling your favorite blanket over you after helping you lie down on the couch.

you don’t even get the chance to tell him to leave because you’re just so tired, and his presence makes you feel so safe. you’re falling asleep and quickly. he lets you.

he sits and watches you sleep for the better part of an hour. when you stir, he’s there, staring.

he’s in your lounge chair, chin resting on his folded knuckles.

“i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re barely awake and what’s he saying? “huh?” you say stupidly, wiping your eyes of sleep.

“i said,” he swallows, “i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re sitting straight up now, definitely more awake now. “i couldn’t have told you. even if i wanted to. you disappeared, simon.

he did. but he doesn’t have the time to explain that now. so, he ignores you.

“how far along are you?”

you tell him. he stands from the chair, sitting down right next to you. he asks if he can feel your stomach. you guess so.

things are getting a little too serious for you now.

“right, well. i had a lovely nap, and i’m feeling much better. thank you for walking me home, but i need to stop by the pharmacy and—”

he interrupts you, tugging your wrist when you try to stand. “i’ll go for you. i’ll do it, please. i’ll do anything you ask me to.

you frown down at him. “simon, there’s no point to this. please just go. it’s just… too late.”

simon’s heart is breaking. he didn’t think it could break anymore than it already has in the last few months.

“let me stay.”

he begs. you think there are tears in his eyes, and if you let them fall you know there’ll be no going back. so you sit with him, you let him kiss you with his hand on your stomach. you let him lay you down on the beat up couch he was always pestering you to replace. you let him pull your dress over your head and kiss his way down your stomach. you let him sink into you slowly and pull your calves up to rest on his shoulders. you let him cum inside of you, again.

you even let him go to the pharmacy for you.

[wongyuuu]

calendar | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 3.1k summary: the red mark on the calendar is one of seungcheol's favorites warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), oral (f. receiving), breeding kink, cock sleeve (kinda), dirty talking playlist: ➝ here a/n: still a little (a lot) insecure about smut, but wanted to try writing this one. not proof read

please remember that comments and reblogs are extremely important

seungcheol stopped in front of the calendar in the closet, a smile tugging at his lips. the red circle around the date, signaling an important event he always waited a little more anxiously for. 

not that having sex with his wife was something he couldn't do as often as he liked, far from that. if anything both of you were always eager to be with each other, even after so many years together. it had never gotten boring or dull at any moment. both of you always wanted to try new things and keep it interesting, mostly you. for seungcheol being buried deep inside you while you moaned his name was to closest thing he'd ever to heaven, if such a place even existed. 

he gave up on the shirt, knowing fully well what the sight of him in nothing but sweats did to you. pair it with his wet hair and it was enough to drive you crazy. the good thing about being with someone for so long is knowing exactly what ticks the other person off, and what buttons to press. well, it could be both a blessing and a curse. in that moment seungcheol chose to believe that it was solely a blessing. 

a small groan left his lips at the sight of you lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, in his shirt and black pair of panties — the one he bought you after there was a small accident with a few pieces of underwear. 

the thing about ticks and buttons is that it works both ways and, obviously, seungcheol wasn't the only one who could play that game. 

he crawled on top of you slowly and pushed your hair to the side so he could kiss the nape of your head. you sighed in contentment when you felt his weight on top of yours. 

"look," you said, raising your phone slightly "hannie sent me pictures of his daughter today"

seungcheol looked at the smiling face of his friend with a little girl in his arms. it had been many years since he had seen jeonghan look quite that happy. of course that suddenly finding out about a child and suddenly needing to be a full-time dad wasn't the easiest thing in the world but he was playing it like a breeze. you swiped your finger and a picture of the little girl in a bright yellow dress greeted him. seungcheol smiled. yeah, she was cute and looked every bit like jeonghan, acted too. a little menace, she was.

"what does he want? if he's sending pictures he wants something" he chuckled knowing his friend well. everything jeonghan did had a purpose.

seungcheol sat back on his heels and slowly started to massage your shoulders over the fabric of the shirt. 

"he asked if we can have gia tomorrow night, he has a work thing to go" you moaned lowly when seungcheol pressed on the not in your shoulder blade, "i said yes"

he laughed again. of course you had been quick to agree, it didn't surprise him. you had always loved kids and were always happily willing to have them for any amount of time needed. after you had gotten married it had gotten a little more frequent since most of your friends had decided to have kids at the same, and since jeonghan found out about his daughter it had gotten weekly. seungcheol never complained, he too loved kids and liked having them around, he especially loved the glint in your eyes whenever you looked at them running around the living room, breaking a thing or two.

"cheol" you said one day at the darkest hour of the night after rolling around in bed for hours, voice barely a whisper as you played with his hair "i... should we start trying?"

it was too late, his mind was barely working, almost drowning in sleep for him to understand what you were saying but in hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

"trying what?" he asked turning around and wrapping you in his arms, his leg nesting between yours.

"for a baby"

that was how the calendar ended up hanging on the closet wall. your ovulation period was marked in a bright red marker. 

"do you think it's really work or, maybe, a date?" you asked.

slowly seungcheol moved his hand lower, to the small of your back, pressing a little more tenderly where he knew you struggled with pain. he moved your, his, shirt up,  adding a little more pressure as your body fully relaxed under him.

"jeonghan wouldn't date now," he said "gia is still getting used to him and us, he wouldn't add someone else to the mix"

you turned around under him, eyes narrowed. when you raised your arm to rest it under your head your shirt lifted a little, exposing the skin right over the elastic of your underwear. it was pretty, yes, with lace details on the sides but that mattered very little. seungcheol was far more interested in what was hidden under it. 

"you're telling me that jeonghan hasn't fucked anyone since we got gia? a whole seven months ago"

seungcheol placed his hands on your waist, your skin warm under his touch. the corner of your lips tugged up at the expression in your husband's eyes. he was struggling to keep focus on the conversation both of you were heaving. jeonghan and gia were the least of his worries. 

"i care very little about who jeonghan fucks" he said, voice hoarse as he leaned forward at the same time he pushed your shirt further up "all i care about is putting a baby in my beautiful wife"

he pressed a kiss to your naked skin. he had imagined it many times, you pregnant with his kid, your belly around. it had been one of the many reasons why he had woken you up in the middle of the night and fucked you dumb. he had never said anything, choosing to let you decide when it was time. when you were ready to have a baby. seungcheol knew that it was going to change things for you a lot more than it would for him, it was also your body. 

if it were up to him, you'd have a least two kids running around the house. 

"you have some work to do then," you said, laughing. 

almost like a reflex, you tangled your fingers in his hair. you sighed as seungcheol started his exploratory kisses. some were light, like the touch of a feather, loving, in a worship manner. others were the exact opposite, harsher as he pulled your skin in between his teeth just for a second, to later soothe the spot with the tip of his tongue. he loved to leave tiny marks in your body, where no one else would be able to see them but him. but you knew they were there, it was a constant reminder of the night before and a reminder of what was still to come.

you spread your legs to better accommodate seungcheol as he pushed your shirt to your neck.  you felt a little electric tension run over your skin when you noticed his eyes on you, taking in your every expression. you smiled when he pressed his thumb over your hard nipple, pinching it.

seungcheol took your boob into his mouth, biting your nipple at the same time he pinched the other one. involuntarily your back arched, your grip on his hair tightening.

he loved the sounds you made, how it usually started so low and small but he always managed to work you up enough to get you begging under him, on top of him. either way, you'd end the night pleading for him, for his cock.

"do you think today is the day?" he asked, trailing his kisses again down your stomach to your panties "do you think i can pump you full enough to get you pregnant?"

you expected seungcheol to tug at the sides of your panties and pull them down but instead, he kissed you over them. he grinned when he saw the small wet spot in your underwear. 

"i barely started and you're already wet, baby?" he teased.

he ran his finger over your cunt still covered by the thin panties. your hips twitched under his touch, needing more than just light touches. but you weren't ready to give in to him yet. he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to hear you begging for more.

"not a word? playing hard to get tonight, i see" he pushed your underwear to the side, lightly blowing your clit. he had to contain the laugh that erupted in his chest "let's see how long it lasts"

you raised your hips as seungcheol used his index fingers to pull your panties down. you laughed when you saw the small piece of cloth being thrown over his shoulder. your laughter died as soon as you felt his warm, wet, tongue on your clit. he sucked the small bundle of never into his mouth at the same time he pushed two fingers into you. he was relentless, his pace devastating, not giving you a second to breathe.

the sounds, of his mouth on you as well as the wetness of your pussy, were obscene but they turned you on even further. you wanted, needed, more.

and the thing is, seungcheol was the giving kind of partner. whatever you wanted was yours, but you had to say it, loud and clear. for him.

"come one baby, just ask" he blew your clit again, this time using the tip of his thumb to lightly brush it "use your pretty little mouth and beg for me"

a curse left your lips when his fingers stopped moving and he pulled away from you. your orgasm that was right there, around the corner, suddenly gone, leaving only your throbbing cunt and ragged breathing as a witness. 

you tried to grab his hand and push his fingers back but the was being a little shit, holding it behind his back.

"fuck, seungcheol," you said, partially annoyed, and desperately turned on "just eat me out, fuck me with your fingers. whatever you do just make me cum"

"your wish, wife, is always my command"

seungcheol wasted no second. his lips were around your clit and a third finger was added into to slit. it only took a few pumps for you to come undone under him. a mess of moans and curses. unsure of when exactly you had let go,  your hand gripped his hair again, forcing his head closer to you, grinding his face against you, desperate for everything he had.

seungcheol used the edge of the mattress to apply some pressure on his throbbing cock. he was so hard it was painful so whatever friction he could get was welcomed. 

every single one of your moans were met a stroke of his tongue and a pump of his fingers. it was torture, the most delicious and vicious kind of torture.

seungcheol only leaned back when he felt the shake in your legs subside, crawling back you. he pressed his thumb in your mouth, smiling when you opened and sucked him in. you were the most beautiful thing in the world, with your cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink, and two tear stains on the sides of your eyes. god, he loved you. 

you could taste your own release in his finger when you circled his finger with your tongue. you grazed his skin with your teeth looking into his eyes. seungcheol hissed, wishing that it was his cock in your mouth.

"i know you would love it if i sucked you," you said "but i really need you to fuck me, right now, please"

you were going to be the death of him.

you pulled your shirt over your head and turned around, sticking your ass up while your chest was pressed against the pillow.

for a second seungcheol felt like a teenager who just found out he was about to fuck the hottest girl he had ever laid eyes on. he was quick to push his sweats off. he hadn't bothered with boxers, knowing exactly where the night would lead the two of you.

"i'm going to fill you up so good baby" he squeezed your ass and second later slapped it "so so deep there's no way you won't get pregnant tonight"

he ran his tip over your pussy a few times, coating himself in you. he knew that he could slide in without doing it but he also liked torturing you. your moans got a little more desperate every time rubbed against your clit.

whenever he took you bare the sensation was entirely new and different. yes, there were a few instances when both of you were in too much of a hurry, or sometimes it just didn't matter enough, to care or remember to take a condom, but ultimately both of you had always been careful. you took your pills, he carried a condom and life moved on. but even after months of no condom, no barrier at all between the two of you, seungcheol still felt his head get a little dizzy. 

your walls adjusted perfectly to him, clinging around him, pulling him, demanding every single inch of him. he slowly pushed in until all he was deep into you, to the hilt.

you moaned against the soft fabric of the sheets, loving the burning sensation of the stretch. you pushed your ass high in the hair, wiggling it from side to side begging him to just move. the stretch of his dick deliciously painful still.

"cheol, move" you begged.

"this what you want?" he asked 

seungcheol pushed your head further into the mattress, his hand on the back of your head, thighing your hair around his fist. finally he started to move, he pulled his cock all the way out and pressed it back in, hitting that one spot that made your head spin and little stars shine behind your closed eyes, over and over again. you squirmed when seungcheol pressed his weight over your body, moaning as he somehow got even deeper.

you moved your hand down your body, slowly circling your with the tip of your nail.

"cheol, fuck" you bit the pillow "faster, please, just fuck me"

he loved the neediness in your voice, how you completely forfeit with your no-begging police. the smell of your sweet vanilla soap disappeared now that your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. 

seungcheol didn't change his rhythm, knowing that it was enough to drive you crazy and over the edge.

"are you touching yourself, baby?" he pulled on your hair, giving you a taste of your medicine. his dick throbbed when he saw the smile on your face "fuck"

he reached forward, slapping your hand away from your cunt. you cursed at him but the nasty words were quickly replaced with a moan when he pinched your clit, tugging and pressing, driving you fucking crazy on his dick. even so, his pace was slow.

"cum for me, baby" he whispered. 

"let me ride you" you begged "i want to look at you when you breed me"

your words had always been the ruin of him. he almost came right there. he turned you around and sat on the bed, grinning when you cried when his dick left your pussy.

"i know, baby, but you were the one that wanted to ride me"

a small fuck you left your lips as you crawled on top of him. seungcheol moaned when you gripped him, your hand sliding up and down his length while you grazed his tip with your nail lightly. you aligned him to you and sank down in one swift movement, making both of you moan.

seungcheol was wrong, being balls deep into you wasn't paradise. no. paradise was being balls deep in your cunt while you rode him, tits bouncing in in his face, while you moaned his name again and again like a prayer, taking what you wanted from him. he cupped your breasts in his hands. your hands covered his, forcing your nipples between his fingers and squeezing. 

"fuck. cheol" you said, eyes on his as you circled your hips before thrusting down on him again "i'm gonna cum. i need to"

your walls squeezed around him. seungcheol moaned as he held you by the hips holding you in place, while the pounded into you, finally, finally fucking you as fast and as hard as you wanted. he fucked you roughly, watching as his cock disappeared in your cunt, each thrust deeper than the previous one. seungcheol felt the muscles of his thighs and stomach squeeze at the same time you clenched around him, milking him.

he pressed his thumb to your clit and the scream you let out was enough to drive both of you to the edge. you let your body fall forward, and you bit that spot between his shoulder and neck. seungcheol continued to pound into you, fucking his cum as deep as he could, pushing it further into you making sure not even a drop was wasted. 

it took both of you a couple of minutes to settle down, evening out your breathing, and making sure your legs were no longer shaking.

"seungcheol" you cried, finally looking at his face, kissing him, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue "i'm so full. it's so deep"

he could never, ever, get enough of you.

“don’t move baby, let’s make sure this one sticks”

you kissed the side of his neck, feeling his hot cum inside you while his dick slowly got flaccid. you loved to have him in you, just there, with you, as close as humanly possible, with nothing between the two of you. his personal cock sleeve, he had called you a few times.

“you say it like fucking me is a terrible task someone assigned you”

you felt the vibrations of his laughter before you heard it. you just closed your eyes and pressed your head to his chest, the sound of his heartbeats calming like a lullaby.

“fucking you is the one task i’ll never ask someone else to do in my place”

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[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

[thethingswedotomorrow]

I love the Good Omens 'Night at Crowley's Flat' trope where after stopping the apocalypse in season 1, they go to Crowley's Flat and talk and kiss and fall in love and have a peaceful night, I do.

BUT

What if the night became 'The Night an Angel and a Demon Get Insanely Drunk and Teach Each Other How to Act'

Because honestly

They go to the flat, and ALL they know is they are going to have to swap themselves if they want to survive and finally be free from Heaven and Hell

But they have absolutely NO clue how to pull it off successfully

Sure, they know each other in and out.

Aziraphale has Crowley's eye color committed to memory (and also to paper, since Aziraphale spent 4-5 years in the late 80s trying to find a craft store in London that could help him do the color justice)

Crowley could find his angel in a crowd of millions (and not even just because only one single person in that crowd would be dressed in that ridiculous shade of tartan)

BUT they know they have to truly get this right, down to the exact detail.

So, naturally, they start by promptly opening the closest bottle of scotch that Crowley had available

Crowley was convinced this would be the easiest thing they've ever done

"Only you, Angel, would find a way to worry yourself to death AFTER stopping an apocalypse"

They begin with the easy part, switching corporations and clothing.

It was easy. Until Aziraphale realized he had to actually physically move in the very, very tight pants Crowley prefers.

The first three times he tries walking, he falls face down. And each time, realizes how it's equally hard to get back up again.

Not to mention that Crowley's corporation had learned that after 6000 years, it didn't really need all those vertebrae and bones since he never used them anyways

So now Aziraphale is just laying on the floor in terribly tight pants, very confused on how Crowley has managed all this time

(Crowley is also on the floor, having dropped there laughing after the 2nd attempt)

After they both get up (one much faster than the other) Crowley tries coaching the angel on how to walk like him

Until Crowley realizes he doesn't actually know how he walks, he just sort of wills himself forward and hopes his limbs keep up with him along the way

Eventually, after enough drinks, they settle on a technique called "Just pretend all your limbs are snakes. And you're a snake. Honestly, just as snake-y as you can manage, Angel."

Aziraphale, as difficult as this was for him, figures out that he may have gotten the easy side of this situation here. Crowley very much disagrees.

"Once an Angel, well, definitely not always an Angel, but close enough right?"

He very quickly realizes he may be wrong when Aziraphale asks Crowley to copy his walk

"Dear Lord Crowley, it cannot be that hard. You simply have to walk in a straight line"

It was indeed that hard.

Crowley has all his vertebrae now, but no knowledge of how they should be used

He tries to hold his hands behind his back and march forward, walking in what he thinks is probably, on some plane of reality, maybe a straight line

He's convinced that he's the perfect image of a stereotypical angel, head held high, an air of 'holier than thou' surrounding him

When Crowley asks Aziraphale, he only says, "Well, I suppose it will have to do for now."

Internally, Aziraphale thinks of the fact that Crowley looked identical to a bumbling penguin walking on ice.

When Crowly sits down, very pleased with himself for an impeccable performance ("As always, Angel. I've still got it." Aziraphale uncaps the vodka and drinks straight from the bottle, just staring into the distance.

He has just realized that their existence hinges on whether Crowley can figure out how to sit on a chair like a proper being with appendages and a spine.

And the odds are not in their favor, if they way the demon is sprawled out on the couch (reminding Aziraphale suddenly of a very well-done noodle, and suddenly he's starting to wonder if humans had the right idea with stress eating) is any indication

Crowley announces that he refuses to utter the words tickety boo, even if faced with destruction

"Honestly I think I'd rather have the holy water at that point" "Crowley." "I swear you just make sounds up sometimes, those aren't even real words"

4 bottles (and a very large order of takeout) later, they've got the act down well enough that it's starting to weird Crowley out

"Angel, seriously, enough with the nose. When have I ever done that with my nose? Exactly zero amount of times. I'm not a rabbit"

2 bottles later and Aziraphale has miracled Harry the Rabbit into the flat for a reason they can't quite remember

But they've got music playing from somewhere in the corner, and plenty of drinks, and the night goes on into the morning, and then they're sobering up and marching out for the most dramatic acting of their lives

And the world hasn't ended yet, so they'll probably be fine. Probably.

[charliemwrites]

Part 3 of obsessed Johnny

(Part 2 is here.)

CW for extremely dubious consent.. or this might actually be coerced consent? Is there a difference? Anyway, be safe!

There’s a few things you learn quickly. If you ask nicely, present things just right, Johnny will give you just about anything. Any foods, any drinks. He movies a huge flatscreen into your room and makes it so you can watch damn near anything with streaming.

“I just want to let everyone know I’m okay. You can read the message yourself before I send it! But the police will come looking if I don’t tell people I’m alright.”

So he cuddles up next to your shoulder and reads as you make up lies to family and friends and professors that you’re fine, but you’re very stressed and need space. That you’re taking some time to “work on yourself.” Johnny takes your phone away again when it’s done and apologizes again when you cry about it.

There are things you don’t ask for either, that he brings you. A squishy pillow in the shape of a bunny. A bunch of fidget toys. Soft thigh high socks for the cold room and cotton shirts that stretch down nearly to your knees. Not a lot of pants.

When you carefully ask why, he blushes and tells you that you look cuter without them. Still, you have a couple pairs of fleece joggers that mysteriously disappear sometimes.

Then there’s…. well there’s this.

“I’m making it up to you, angel,” he breathes against your bare thigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. But I promise it’s all for you, I’ll show you.”

You’re trembling, trying to think of a good way to tell him to stop that won’t upset him. Hard to do that when he’s prying his way so gently between your legs, tonguing at your cotton panties.

“It’s alright, I won’t take anything, Bonnie. Going to give you everything,” he whispers. “It’s not for me. All for you to feel good.”

He rips through the lace on the side with his teeth and tugs it away to bear you. He groans, eyes going moony.

“Gorgeous girl,” he moans, laying kisses all over. “Such a pretty kitty. Knew you would be.”

“W-wait, wait, soap,” you finally force out. But he’s far, far too gone now. His eyes don’t even flicker away from your pussy.

“Don’t get shy on me now, hen.” He loops one of your legs over his shoulder, stroking the outside of your thigh. “Nothing to be shy about.”

Your stomach clenches as his mouth drops open, hot air across your sensitive core. His mouth is already shiny. He finally, finally pries his eyes from your cunt, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Let me, baby,” he begs. “Say I can, say I’m allowed to make you feel good. You deserve it, let me make this up to you.”

At this point, you don’t think he’d listen if you didn’t give permission so you just nod.

“S-slow, soap. Please?”

“Anything for you,” he promises. “Anything… anything…”

He kisses your pussy like a lover leaving his beloved. Aching, slow, devoted. His tongue grinding against your clit, licking at your entrance. He moans at the taste of you, eyes rolling back in his head.

You try to lay still, to be quiet, to just... let it happen to you. But Christ, he feels so good. Luxuriant. There’s no resisting the way he sucks so softly at your clit, tongue rolling over and over that little bundle of nerves.

You’re soaking, you can feel it running down onto the bed. He swipes the flat of his tongue through you slit, picks his head up enough for you to see the thick, glistening string of saliva and slick connecting him to your cunt.

You press a hand to your mouth as your hips buck, muffling the noise you make into you palm.

“No, no,” he whimpers, “how am I supposed to know I’m taking care of you? Please, baby, let me hear you. I know I’m never gonna hear heaven’s choir so you’re the closest I’ve got.”

He dives down with renewed vigor, sloppy noises mixing with his grunts and moans. He’s writhing his own hips into the bed, getting off on the taste of you alone. You’ve lost control of your voice - and your hands. They’re tangled up in his mohawk, guiding him to tongue fuck you just right.

You don’t know what does it? What sets you off. Only that it’s all too much all at once and you’re tipping over the edge before you can think about what it means when you do. You clench down on his tongue, ride his mouth as wave after wave curves your back off the mattress.

When you can breathe again, his cheek is lying on your thigh, a dopey, cum-drink grin on his messy face.

“So pretty when you cum,” he sighs, lashes fluttering. There’s a wet spot against your calf; he came when you did. Just… just from…

“Can’t wait to give you another.”