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#green eyed devil
geraldofallon · 3 months
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Romance in the Neath: Green-Eyed Devil
A striking devil in evening dress of unfamiliar cut. His eyes are mossy green: his teeth are an unnervingly brilliant white. His smile is oddly shy.
Dazzle him over drinks. It’s the kind of thing that impresses him.
“Would you like me to show you something, perhaps? Are you certain? … are you quite certain?”
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genopaint · 4 months
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Devil and Green Eyed Monster
(redraws of two different guys from 2019 x x)
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cornergh0st · 11 months
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one time my pastor and the elders performed an exorcism on me because i accidentally foretold the death of a church member ✨
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phoenix-of-jade · 4 months
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jonathanarcher · 2 years
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No one understood John Crichton like Ben Browder I think
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bellethiel279 · 1 year
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See me. Feel me. Touch me. Heal me.
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blorbocedes · 2 years
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Charles has green eyes
Thank you!
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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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—  GIMME HALF
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REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous
PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)
CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting
WORD COUNT : 8.4k
A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.
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There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction. 
Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.
Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door. 
Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men. 
There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son. 
He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos. 
There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him 
As for the cons, we’ll get to that…
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When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June. 
When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.
The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one. 
Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle. 
After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.
Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.
Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.
The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.
The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.
It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily. 
Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass. 
Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room. 
Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.
She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.
“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at. 
She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.
“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.
“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh. 
She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.  
“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.
“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?” 
She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself. 
Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.
“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.
Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”
“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.
“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.
His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”
“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.
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That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on. 
He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans. 
The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.
Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely. 
When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.
She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people. 
When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.
It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.
Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.
They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.
Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving. 
He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.
Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean. 
So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow. 
For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway. 
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She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.
She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.
All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.
She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?
For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?
The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation. 
With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him. 
It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective. 
It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.
The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. 
For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.
She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?
She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.
The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently. 
When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.
“What?” He asked bluntly. 
She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet. 
“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter. 
She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.
She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.
She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera. 
What a funny thing. 
“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights. 
“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything. 
She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction. 
“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters. 
“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.
He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted. 
“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.
Now, it was awkward. 
Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants. 
“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing. 
“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire. 
“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.
“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer. 
He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand. 
“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds. 
“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over. 
“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.
“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it. 
“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.
She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.
She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie. 
“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added. 
Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.
“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth. 
“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him. 
“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.
“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.
“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie. 
It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.
“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog. 
Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.
“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”
“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.
“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.
“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.
“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth. 
“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair. 
She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.
With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap. 
“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.
“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.
“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.
“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.
“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..
“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table. 
“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.
She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor. 
He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time. 
He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss. 
He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.
He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.
“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts. 
“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.
“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.” 
She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching. 
“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name. 
“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.
“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.
“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly. 
She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.
“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.
“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.
Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned. 
He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more. 
“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head. 
He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.
Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.
“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole. 
“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.
“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.
“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely. 
“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.
He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly.  “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck. 
She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes. 
“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.
“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy. 
She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.
“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.
She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths. 
Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw. 
“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.” 
She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch. 
He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly. 
He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath. 
“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.
She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.
“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.
“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.
“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.
“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit. 
“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.
“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her. 
“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.
“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.
“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt. 
“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily. 
“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”
Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his. 
“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.
“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit. 
She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.
“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him. 
“Dean…”
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”
As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would. 
He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.
“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure. 
“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.
“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.
➥ sempiternal
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harleehazbinfics · 1 month
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Love eat?
Alastor x cannibal servant!reader
Original Concept | Additional Concept
Word count: 1764
A/N: sup im back with more crack, jk. but yeahhh i did a oneshot of that imagine and now we're here. i've channeled my inner crazy and that led me to this oneshot lmao, sorry if it's not up to par but pls enjoooooyyyy!
ps I can't find the artist pls help. chainsaw man falling devil spoiler sorry
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“Yuta!” you called your boyfriend from where you sat waiting for him.
“Sorry, I'm late,” he says with an apologetic smile, placing his bag to his side while he sat in front of me.
“No, it's ok! You're doing your best in school. I was the one who asked you to eat with me anyway,” you responded clapping your hands together, appealing cutely to your boyfriend.
“But you're busy with your culinary classes too. I'm sure you're working harder than I am!” He replied, making you smile at how genuine he sounded.
You reached inside your bag and presented 2 lunch boxes in front of him. His eyes widen in anticipation while you opened them, revealing a well plated pork cutlet and a healthy salad in the other lunch box.
“I have! I learnt a few new things during class, and I wanted you to be the first to eat my cooking. I hope you like them!” He smiles at you, flattered that he was the first thing on your mind when you made the meal. He always loved your cooking.
The both of you met when you were first years, he was just roaming the halls familiarizing himself with the school layout when he heard you squealing inside a room and helped you put out a small fire that you accidentally created while you stayed behind in the Economics Room to relearn the basics taught to you that day. So, he stayed with you until the end so that you won't set the whole room on fire this time, and as thanks you gave the meal you completed to him afterwards. As he tasted it, threw it back up when he tasted how salty it was, so you resolved yourself that you'd make a decent meal for him, and that's where your friendship to relationship started.
“Wow! You've really outdone yourself this time!” He yells with stars in his eyes, savoring each bite.
You laughed at him and pushed the salad closer to him, and said, “You can eat all of it. It's all for you!”
“Really? Thanks a lot! It's so great to have you as my girlfriend!”
-=-=-=-
“Yuta?” you asked with wide eyes as you eyed the knife in his hand that was pointed at you.
“I-I can't take it anymore. I don't want to eat any food you make for me anymore, it’s disgusting. I don’t want to eat humans! I hate it, I hate it, I HATE YOU!” He screamed lunging at you.
He pushes the knife to your stomach, a few moments later you feel the metallic taste in your throat, letting the liquid drop from your tongue as you took has face that held great remorse for you. You smiled at the pretty expression on his face and rubbed your thumb on his cheeks, smearing it with your own blood.
"How pretty. I love all the expressions you make. Do it more," you coughed out.
His expression changes from fear to disgust and anger. Vengefully, he takes your wrists binding them together in his forceful grip and continues to stab you until you died from the pain and blood loss. However, despite your body tensing and losing color on you face, he never stopped. After his knife slipped out of his hands from your blood, he threw himself at you and bit into your neck.
Devouring you. Bit by bit.
---
You've been aimlessly roaming around hell and chopping sinners with your cleaver that were dumb enough to pick a fight with you. At the moment, you sat on top of a building waiting for something to happen while eating an beefy arm starting from the shoulder.
While you were gnawing at it with a blank expression on your face. You were surprised when a massive green explosion appeared out of nowhere, inducing a few screams of terror.
Just a couple blocks in front of you, you see a giant red deer demon with black tentacles coming out his back as he crushed sinners in his hands and consuming them.
You immediately dropped the arm you were holding and watched as the overlord showed off his power against you, sinners. Unable to hold yourself, you followed his parade of chaos and squeaked when he appears behind you wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"How rude of you to follow me around, while I was playing with my meal," he remarks with a snarky tone.
You got distracted with his voice. How could someone be so seductive with a radio filter on, you ask yourself.
"It's also rude to stare, you know?" He adds, starting to get pissed off by how unresponsive you were as you just kept gawking at him.
"I was just admiring how powerful you were, sir! I've never seen a demon turn into that kind of form. I-I was enchanted!" You yelled at him, hands clasped together while fan-girling at his abilities with hearts in your eyes.
"My, I've never seen such behavior from a person such as you. Are you eager to be eaten?" He laughs before his eyes turning black leaving his red pupils and radio dial iris.
"Yes! I would be happy to!" You answered almost immediately, making him revert to his normal self, getting caught off guard with your reply.
He hums turning his head in confusion and irritation, “Well, that just won’t do. I only like it when my prey gets scared rather than having a sacrifice like you.”
He tries to ride away in his shadow but before he could do so, he halts in his steps when you step in front of him. “Please! I’ll act scared! I’ll do anything! I just want to be with you!” you cried dropping to the floor pathetically making him deadpan to the sight.
He huffs, and turns his back at you, “Hmm. Do what you wish.”
With that, you stayed and served Alastor for years. You’ve arranged deals for him, did his bidding on some occasions and even represented him a few times in meetings. However, your main occupation was his personal chef.
Sure, one could argue that he likes his meats raw and cooks for himself sometimes. But do you expect that man to cook every meal for himself for a nearly a century? Overlords don’t have that much free time, you know? (or at least that what Sir Alastor says) and you happily take on this task when he discovers that you were an excellent chef, living up to his own impossible standards.
However, you find yourself in a very peculiar situation.
“(y/n)? Is it really you?”
You’ve come face to face with your first love and your killer. You couldn’t help but leap up from you position and hug him while he did his best to get away from you.
“Yuta! You’re finally in here! I knew you’d come to find me, hehe,” you cried still hugging him while he struggled in your mighty grip. “I’ve been waiting for you, y’know?” you said to him with your eyes darkening at him giving him the familiar dangerous look in your eye making him tense up and unconsciously threw you across the room with his strength.
You didn’t hit the impact when Alastor raised his arms and caught you before placing you on your feet, ignoring your heart-eyes as usual.
“And who is this with you?” he asks the group, almost sneering at the new man.
“This is Yuta! He’s our new guest! We found him in Cannibal Town, and he asked us where we were, he’s now he's here!” Charlie introduces excitedly holding Yuta by the shoulder.
“Ooh, is he a bad boy?” Nifty asks looking flirtatiously.
“Why, of course! He’s the one that killed me after all!” I announced with a smile. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
He rolls his eyes and says to Charlie, “I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I don’t get involved with her. I’ll find a room myself.”
You all watch as he shows himself to one of the rooms while Charlie replies, “Uhh, ookayyy?”
“So, what’s with you and that guy?” Angel first asks, “There’s a lot of sexual and… psychological tension there.”
“Yeah, and what do you mean he killed you?” Vaggie continues, while all of them looked at you.
“Oh, you know, couple fights. One thing led to another and poof, I was gone,” you explained simply with a laugh, making Nifty laugh as well.
“So, you two dated?” Angel asked in surprise.
“Exactly, why?” I smiled at him.
“Uhh, sure. He just looks like a boy failure to me. How the fuck could he bag a hottie like you!” Angel laughs throwing his head back.
"What a crazy bitch," Husk comments blankly looking at you before peeking at Alastor's annoyed face making him raise his long brow.
You tilt you head to the side confused, before Charlie would come in and say that she’d explain it to you.
A few weeks gone by, and you didn’t stop pestering your ex with things he hated when you couldn’t get enough of the expressions on his face. You loved seeing him get so angry with you, you just loved getting on his nerve. Or it could be some fucked up enjoyment of how you remembered being eaten by him half dead that sent chills to your body every time.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of your shit!” he yells bursting in flames.
“Oh, what? Cat got your tongue baby boy?” you teased him hands behind your back trying to annoy him.
“Oh, fuck you!” he screams as he runs forward at you trying to land a punch which you jump away from effortlessly.
He eventually tires himself out and sees you giving the deer demon googly eyes that ticks him off. He loads up a fire blast and shoots it at Alastor. You intercepted it in between not noticing him following behind it and takes hold of you neck choking you.
“Not bad,” you wheeze out with a wicked grin, setting him off and squeezing your neck tighter.
He fails to notice the black portal underneath him where a black tentacle reaches out to his ankle and wraps around his body, making him let go off you.
“I’d rather you not mess with my property if I were you,” Alastor announces menacingly as he had you in his arms. You feel starstruck as you were being princess carried and being defended by the one you admired. “I don’t like sharing, so this is my last warning for both of you to not get involved with each other.”
“Yes, sir! Anything for you!” you scream your heart out that felt like it was beginning to burst out of your chest and leap in your throat, while you give him heart eyes that he ignored, while he brought both of you to his chambers.
"Are you finally going to eat me, Sir Alastor?"
"Shut your mouth before I stitch it up for you."
"Yes, sir! I love you! 💕"
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seattlesellie · 10 months
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i wanna have a sleepover with dina <3 we watch movies, paint each others nails, make out & scissor 💘💘
ugh a silly little sleepover w dina is such a dream <3 what if what if we mix ellie in too. what if u and dina r just doing each other's makeup while ellie watches in awe... she'd be sooo cute just looking at u sitting on dina's lap putting some strawberry lip gloss on her lips. dina would be like "oh my god its so yummy" as she smacks her lips, sticky, glossy strings forming and glistening on them <3. u, the little devil that u are, ask her if u can have a taste. ellie's eyes are blowing out of her head because what the hell did u just say???? she thinks she's hallucinating, so she doesn't say anything. this must be a dream. dina's grinning, and she's so normal about it (maybe bc u make out every time u hang out so this isn't exactly... new) so she kisses your lips gently, all sticky and sickly sweet. u part your lips to let her slide her tongue in... and it really does taste good! <3 meanwhile, ellie's like. losing it. she's all red and flustered because what the hell are her two best friends doing in front of her. she literally can't believe her eyes. this shit is like... something she sees in porn or something. you peak at her from the corner of your eye, and she's staring at the floor because she's too shy to look. she think's she's interrupting something and all she wants to do is like, hide under the couch. she clears her throat as dina's hands caress and squeeze your waist gently. you finally break the kiss, and the two of you look at her like two angels… like we didnt do anything ellie! just two girls kissing… are u that scared? meanwhile she’s all wide eyed and nervous <3 "el... you wanna taste too?" dina teases.... and ellies internally like yesyesyesyes! but she's just. sitting there still and stiff as a rock, unresponsive. dina moves closer and surprises ellie w a delicate peck on her left cheek. she looks at her with a soft little smile and brushes a hair string away from her face. “i wanna taste" ellie says quietly... like she's admitting something forbidden, like she's confessing her sins. dina initiates the kiss, sliding her sweet tongue inside her mouth, and ellie's already panting! "tastes good" she murmurs, ears heating up, her green eyes gleaming like two sparkly little orbs under the warm toned lighting. somehow, it ends up with her eating the two of you out, taking turns and worshipping your pussies like they’re the world's holiest temples. when you and dina scissor each other, grinding your wet cunts together, whimpers and needy moans escaping both of your mouths like an obscene little symphony, ellie again... just watches, exactly like she did when she watched you paint dina's face. but this time... her hand is in her boxer briefs, her fingers are pumping in and out and she's dripping all over the couch — she doesn't want to hide underneath it anymore <33
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andvys · 5 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 18
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Warnings: slight angst, mentions of body dysmorphia, mentions of an eating disorder, mentions of weight loss, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy (don't worry, it's nothing), depression and anxiety
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!cheerleader!reader
Summary: A conversation with a girl that you had been trying to avoid, leaves you more confused than ever -- it might just be the cause of a storm in your heart.
Word count: 6k
A/N: BIG BIG BIG SHOUTOUT TO THE LITTLE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER AKA @hellfire--cult thank you so much for helping me, with this chapter especially! I was struggling with the dialogue at the end of this chapter and you were such a big help so thank you -- you're talented, amazing, show-stopping, perfect, thank you for helping me with the dialogues (and so many other ideas) mwah! You guys better follow her and give her stories the love they deserve
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-
The gym is filled with girls dressed in their cheer uniforms, the color green is starting to give you a headache, just like the sound of giggles and hushed whispers as the girls next to you talk about the latest gossip. Another supposed breakup. 
This time it’s Tommy and Carol again. 
Just three weeks back, you heard rumors about Steve and Nancy’s apparent breakup,  which turned out to be just a rumor, considering you’ve seen them together – maybe less than before but they are still around each other, laughing and smiling just like before. 
Clearly, they are still together. 
But teenagers love to make up rumors – especially about people like you and Steve. Despite both yours and his fall down the social ladder, you are still the hot topics of the school. 
They love to make up rumors about your relationship or past relationship with Steve and your friendship with Eddie – or as they still like to call him, the freak. 
Apparently you and Eddie had been seen making out in his van. 
Apparently you and Eddie have been in a secret relationship since august, last year. 
Apparently you cheated on the king with the freak. 
Apparently the satan worshiper had cursed your relationship with the king – so he could have you. 
Apparently you are pregnant with Eddie’s baby and living in his trailer. 
Apparently you and Eddie are in love and secretly married – at least, you understand that rumor. The matching rings on both yours and his ring finger may have been the cause of it. 
The pregnancy rumor made you physically sick – it made you stand in front of the mirror, checking for signs that you had gained weight. You did not, it still made you feel nauseous and you had to cancel your dinner ‘date’ with your friends. 
A sigh falls from your lips when you hear Teresa talking about her future in college – Princeton to be exact. Of course the cute brunette has it all, beauty and brains. The straight A student isn’t only one of the smartest students in Hawkins High, she is also one of the prettiest – cat eyes, a small nose and big lips, she is thin but her boobs are, well, they are huge. 
You wonder why you were ever crowned as the queen when girls like her exist. When girls like Heather and Chrissy exist. 
You wonder why Steve ever even looked your way. 
You look down at yourself, your uniform is perfectly ironed, your skin is soft and glowing after scrubbing and lathering it in moisturizer earlier this morning. You reach for the mirror in your bag, wanting to check on your makeup, one more time before the photoshooting. Your hair looks good, your make up looks good and yet, you still don’t like the way you look. 
“Well, don’t you look beautiful.” 
The frown on your face disappears when you hear his voice. Looking over your shoulder,  you see Eddie leaning against the doorframe. He is eying you with a smile on his face. He ignores all the nasty looks from the other cheerleaders before they continue getting ready for the little photo session with Jonathan – who is getting just as many nasty looks as Eddie does. 
You put the little mirror down and walk over to him, smoothing down your skirt as you take in the sight of him. He was forced to leave his leather jacket at home and he had already been whining about it since the early morning hours. Clad in his favorite jeans and a metallica shirt, you can’t help but miss the leather on his skin – it’s his staple piece but, it’s the end of May, much to Eddie’s dismay it’s too warm to walk around with vests and jackets. 
You like seeing his tattoos though and his hair in ponytail or a bun when it does get a little too warm. 
“Hi,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you halt in front of him. 
He smiles down at you, tapping your nose, “hey sweetheart.” 
“Wanna join the photo session?” You joke, gesturing to the girls who are still getting ready as Jonathan is setting up his tripod and his camera. 
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “give me a uniform and I’m in.”
Giggling, you shake your head, “your butt would look cute in a cheer skirt.”
“Oh, not as cute as yours,” he winks, grinning at you when you look away with a blush on your cheeks. 
“Are you enjoying the last day as the cheer captain?” 
“You have no idea how much I wanna get rid of that title,” you laugh, “I’m ready to give that position up to Chrissy.” 
You haven’t been loving cheerleading as much as you used to. Things changed, especially this year. 
“I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” 
“You and me both, sweetheart.” 
“You know, I always thought that I’d go to college after high school,” you say as you look around the room, “but now, I’m just lost. I wouldn’t even know what to major in if I did go to college a-and I don’t even know what college I’d go to – and why am I even stressing about it, it’s too late for that now–”
Eddie places his hands on your shoulders, “I thought we settled on not stressing about our future anymore.” 
“Yeah but–” 
“No buts,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re taking a gap year, you still got your job at the record store and I’ll work at the garage, we’ll save up some money this summer and then–”
“And then we’ll go on that road trip.”
“Exactly,” he smiles, “we’ve been planning it for weeks now, don’t let college ruin that.”
Your shoulders slump and you sigh, “I just, I hear all of them talking about college,” you pause, gesturing to the girls behind you, “a-and it makes me think that maybe it was a mistake not to apply to any.”
His eyes soften at the worry in your eyes, he shakes his head. 
“I don’t think it’s a mistake.”
“It’s not?” 
“No, you got all the time in the world to join all these boring people in the normal world,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “let’s live in our own world for a little longer,” he smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he fixes the bow in your ponytail. 
“Our dreams will be crushed the moment we step into the real world, let’s not let that happen so soon.”
You eye his face and curl of his lips as he stares at you. 
“Our own world,” you smile, nodding, “I think I like that more anyways.”
“Yeah?” He grins. 
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Good,” you repeat after him, making him chuckle. 
He tilts his head with a smile on his face, “did you do your make up differently?” 
“Uh yeah, I did pink eye shadow today,” you chuckle, “I’m surprised you noticed it, guys usually don’t pay attention to these things.”
“I’m offended that you think I’m one of those guys,” he jokes, placing his hand on his chest, “I notice everything about you, sweetheart.” 
He notices every slight change. A different hairstyle, new clothes, the new color of your lipstick, the slightest change in your behavior, your eating habits, your struggles. He notices it all. 
“You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” you smile but the look in your eyes isn’t genuine and it makes him frown. 
“Not as gorgeous as Teresa.”
“Who the fuck is Teresa,” he mumbles in confusion. 
You point to the cheerleader and Eddie follows your gaze. You watch him closely as he looks at the pretty cheerleader. 
Does he think she’s gorgeous? Does he think she looks better than you? Does he think she looks sexy in her tight uniform? Does he think her boobs look good?
The reaction you expected never comes, he scrunches his face up and a look of distaste crosses his features.
“That bitch threw gum in my hair.” 
A laugh tumbles from your lips, you cup your hand over your mouth when the others turn to look at you.
“That’s not funny, y/n!” Eddie frowns, though his eyes are filled with amusement, “Wayne had to cut a chunk of my hair because I couldn’t get it out.” 
“Your poor hair!” You pout, reaching out to touch his curls. 
Both you and Eddie are unaware of the new set of eyes watching the two of you. 
Steve just left the coach’s office, passing by the gym when he heard your laughter, he couldn’t help but peek inside the open gym. 
His eyes fall on you, right away. 
It’s been a while since you had talked, though you had been more present in his life since the night before your birthday, you were still far from actually being back in his life. The only interactions the two of you have are the ones in the hallway or in classes, greeting one another and saying goodbye. That’s all but he wishes he would see more of you. 
Things haven’t been easy in the past few weeks, he barely passed the exams, sleepless nights haunt him and his days usually consist of reading and trying to better his cooking skills – he has nothing else to do. He has no one to talk to, no one to hang out with, no one to be with, not even his parents. 
He had never been more miserable than he is right now. 
There you are, pressing yourself against Eddie as you play with his hair, looking happier than ever. 
Eddie, who wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you like you are the most precious thing in this world. 
Steve’s eyes are filled with nothing but sadness. He doesn’t even have the power to feel jealous anymore. 
“Hey Steve!” 
Shit. 
All eyes are now on him, including yours and Eddie’s. 
Steve tears his eyes away from you and turns to look at Jonathan who is walking towards him with his camera. By the look in his eyes, Steve can tell that he wants to do anything but talk to him. 
“Uh – it’s good that you’re here,” Jonathan mumbles, holding the camera up, “Principle Higgins asked for a picture of you and y/n.” 
Steve’s brows furrow and confusion takes over his face, “me and y/n?” He asks, “why?”
Jonathan shrugs, refraining from rolling his eyes, “cause you’re the captain of the basketball team and she’s cheer captain.” 
“Oh.” 
Jonathan looks away from Steve, glancing in your direction, waving you over. 
You look just as confused as Steve does but you make your way over to them nonetheless. 
“Hi,” you mumble to Steve before your eyes find Jonathan who stands between you two, awkwardly. 
“Hey,” Steve smiles at you. 
“Principle Higgins wants a picture of you two together,” Jonathan explains to you, “cause you’re both Captains.” 
You raise your brows, “uh okay,” you snort, “what does the cheer captain have to do with–” 
“Don’t ask me, y/n,” Jonathan chuckles as he motions for you both to follow him, “I’m just as confused.” 
“That’s weird,” you mumble, glancing at Steve who’s awfully quiet. 
“Let’s do it in front of the banners,” Jonathan looks over his shoulder, giving you a small smile but avoiding Steve’s eyes – you notice it. 
Does he feel guilty about kissing his girlfriend? You saw them together yesterday, Nancy and Jonathan. They didn’t even bother to hide their affection. They kissed in the parking lot in front of everyone to see. All they got were a few weird looks, no one seemed to pay much attention to them – no one except for you. You stood frozen in place, a mix of confusion and anger rushing through you. 
Despite the things that Steve had done to you, he still didn’t deserve that. 
You didn’t know whether you should tell him or not, by the sullen look in his eyes, you can tell that he already knows. 
“Alright, just uh–” Jonathan waves his hand at you and Steve, looking around awkwardly, “scoot a little closer.” 
You don’t have to look around the gym to see all the eyes on you, you can feel them and you can hear the hushed whispers.
Steve ignores them but he can’t help but take a look at Eddie who is still standing in the same spot as before. He watches you. 
You step closer to Steve, when he lifts his arm up for you. You place your hand on his back and he places his hand on your waist. Steve looks away from Eddie when the latter looks down. 
Jonathan looks through his camera, squinting his eyes as he motions with his hand, “a little closer, y/n.” 
Steve feels your body closer against his, your hand slides down to his waist, your touch fills him with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in a long time, it makes his heart beat a little faster, it fills him with life. 
If a simple touch of your hand can make him feel such things, he wonders what a kiss from you would cause. 
For a moment, he forgets about his surroundings and what he is supposed to be doing. The sound of chatter, whispers and giggles fly by him. His attention is on you and he basks in the feeling of being so close to you, of feeling your touch, of being able to look at you – not from afar but from such a close distance. 
After a few snaps, Jonathan pulls back to look at the pictures he just took, he furrows his brows and glances up at the two of you. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask, not pulling away from Steve just yet, “do I look okay?” 
Jonathan huffs with a soft chuckle, “yeah, you look good but uh, Steve? You’re supposed to look into the camera,” he says awkwardly. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up to see him staring at you – now with a blush on his cheeks. Oh. He wasn’t looking into the camera because he was too busy looking at you. 
He closes his eyes, furrowing his brows, “right.” 
You can’t help but smile to yourself – a flustered Steve is not something you will ever get used to. 
“Alright,” Jonathan mumbles after snapping a few more pictures, “I got it now.”
He looks up from his camera, giving Steve a tight lipped smile, “thanks Steve, you can go now,” he says before he steps away himself. 
You feel the hesitation in his touch before he lets go of you, stepping away slowly.
“Alright uh, I’m gonna,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he points to the entrance. 
“Yeah,” you whisper but you hesitate as well and you find yourself looking into his eyes again. 
The sadness has taken over. 
You know that he knows about Nancy and Jonathan. 
Why is he still with her? 
Why is he still with her after everything he said to you? 
Why is he still with her when she is seeing someone else? 
He gives you a halfhearted smile before he turns away but you stop him, reaching for his hand before he can take the first step away from you. You grip it tightly, unaware of the feeling in his heart that you had caused with yet another simple touch. 
He looks down at your hand only to notice another, new ring adorning your hand. A skull ring on your ring finger – he doesn’t know why such a small item can cause him so much despair. He doesn’t have to ask to know where or who you had gotten it from. 
“Are you okay?” 
The softness in your voice matches the one in your eyes, it makes him want to cry. 
How could he ever be okay without you in his life? 
Now that he had finally dropped the act and let go of a fake love, he had nothing to hold onto anymore. 
He lost his best friend, he lost the love of his life, he lost the one. All because he was an insecure coward. 
The past few weeks have shown him how much he had truly ruined, how alone he really is without you in his life. 
He needed to lose you to realize that you are all he ever wanted. 
He doesn’t need a bunch of friends who don’t even care about him nor does he need girls chasing after him or the popularity that he no longer has or even wants. 
You, he only wants you. 
But he won’t fight for someone who he doesn’t deserve to have.  
You look at him with worry in your eyes as you wait for him to answer your question. 
No. No, he is not okay. 
He has never felt more lost in his life than he does at this moment. 
The emptiness in his chest is eating at him and he doesn’t know how to keep going when every day feels like hell.
Every night he stares at the bottles of expensive whiskey in his dad’s office, contemplating whether or not he should just drink until he no longer feels anything. Deep down he knows that the whiskey would just make everything so much worse. 
Maybe it would lead him back to you, maybe it would lead him to the phone on his nightstand, maybe he would make the mistake of calling or even seeing you only to beg for another chance – which would only end in heartbreak. 
You won’t take him back.
Steve will forever hate himself for losing you. 
“Yeah,” he says, forcing a smile on his face, “I’m okay.” 
And for a moment, it isn’t a lie. For a moment, he does feel okay when he still feels your hand in his, when he sees the worry and the softness in your beautiful eyes and the necklace around your neck, the locket that he gave you. You are wearing it. And that alone is enough for his heart to flutter and for the emptiness in his chest to disappear – even if only temporary. 
He avoids your eyes and that proves to you that he isn’t okay but just like he never pressured you, you don’t do it either. 
“A-Are you going to college?” You ask, not wanting him to go so soon. 
Your question surprises him, it’s been a long time since you had initiated a conversation. 
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem really appealing to me.”
“But you wanted to go to college, Steve.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head with a small chuckle.
“That uh, that was our dream. I only wanted to go to college with you.”
His hand is still in yours, his sad eyes are still gazing into yours. 
“You wanted to go to college with me?” Your eyes widen when he nods, “for me?” 
“Yeah,” he breathes, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so,” he trails off as he watches the way sadness crosses your features. 
Your heart jumps at his words. 
“That’s uh, that’s funny,” you laugh, “cause I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so I always told you that I had this huge college dream when I never even knew what I actually wanted.”
Steve’s brows furrow and his eyes fill with confusion but also with amusement. 
“Really?” He chuckles. 
“Yeah.” 
His eyes crinkle and his smile widens. 
“Wow. We would’ve gone to college together not knowing that it’s something neither of us wanted,” he says, “unless it’s something that you want now?”
“Oh no,” you mumble, “I-I’m not going to college. For now, I’m stuck at the record store which is actually being moved to Starcourt soon.” 
His eyes light up. 
“Oh, the record store is being moved?” 
“Yeah!”
“I guess we’ll keep seeing each other then.” 
While the thought leaves him with excitement, it must leave you with annoyance – at least that’s what he thinks. 
The look on your face is puzzled.
“I got a job at the ice cream parlor,” he clears his throat, “Scoops Ahoy.” 
Suddenly, he feels embarrassed and his cheeks heat up. You used to date a king, a popular guy, the captain of the basketball team with his apparent bright athlete future. 
And now he is just Steve Harrington who barely got his diploma, who threw his athlete future down the drain to work at an ice cream parlor. How humiliating. 
Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, “no way! Scoops Ahoy?” 
“Yeah..”
“Oh my god!” You giggle excitedly. “I’ll be your regular.”
Steve can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. 
“You did love your ice cream.”
“Yeah, I still do.” 
You are still smiling at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. This almost feels like a dream – standing here with your hand still in his, laughing and smiling with you like the past no longer matters. 
“Y/n!” Chrissy calls for you. 
You tear your eyes away from his and glance over his shoulder. 
Chrissy motions for you to join her and the other cheerleaders – who are all trying to hide the fact that they were just staring at you and Steve. 
“Come on!” She says as she glares at Steve’s back. 
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
Steve’s face falls, though his smile still lingers when you look back at him. You remove your hand from his. 
“So uh, I guess I’ll see you around?” 
He nods, “yeah,” he mumbles. 
You step away from him but this time, he stops you. With a hand on your wrist and your name falling from his lips, he makes you halt in your tracks. 
You look back at him with raised brows. 
His soft eyes make your heart race, his touch makes you feel warm. 
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
He knows you don’t believe it, you never did, no matter how many times he told you these words, you never believed them. 
“The locket looks good on you,” he smiles. 
You place your other hand on your chest, touching the locket, “thanks, I love it.”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, watching the interaction between you and Steve. Annoyed at the affection and the smiles you are giving him, she forces herself to look away. 
Steve always finds a way to sneak his way back into your life. He doesn’t deserve you, not after everything that happened. 
She knows that you might never stop loving him but she hopes that your love for him won’t stop you from letting another one in. She narrows her eyes, glancing at the metalhead who is still standing by the door, watching you with an intense look on his face, one that can only be described as jealousy. 
It’s the same look you always wore when you saw Steve with other girls. 
She sighs, shaking her head.
Chrissy might not be a close friend of Eddie’s but she knows that his feelings for you are nowhere near platonic and she knows that what you are feeling might be deeper than that too, though you are still oblivious, too focused on your feelings for your ex boyfriend. 
She hopes that you will let go of them someday. 
-
The first big summer storm hits the town of Hawkins on a Friday afternoon. The rain is falling down harshly from the sky, the wind is howling through the trees, the bright lighting lights up the darkened sky every few seconds as the thunder crashes loudly. 
The streets are empty as the water flushes down the road. 
Of course you had to come to the library today. 
You should’ve come here tomorrow, you should’ve stayed home. 
You tried to leave the library when the storm just started but the librarian, an elderly woman named Margaret, refused to let you leave. She forced a book into your hand and told you to take a seat by the window. 
She didn’t even let you put up a fight. She offered you a cup of coffee and told you to wait out the storm. 
It’s been an hour but the storm is still raging and you are becoming restless. You hate being stuck in public places.
You take the book that she gave you and leave the table, giving her a tight lipped smile as you pass by the counter. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to sneak out,” you whisper to her when she gives you a pointed look. 
“You better not, young lady,” she says with a mean voice but her eyes are kind. 
You chuckle at her, flashing her a smile before you disappear into the aisle where the shelves are filled with nothing but dramatic romances and sad love stories – your favorites. 
The smell of paper and coffee, the sound of rain and thunder fills you with a nostalgic feeling. You love these types of afternoons, sitting down with a book you love, listening to the rain paddling down the windows after you light up your favorite candle and drinking a hot cup of coffee – too bad you did not stay at home, you could have done just that. 
As you walk down the aisle and you trace the books, trying to find one that calls for you, you don’t find a story that you would love to read, instead, you find the girl that has been the cause of a lot of pain in your life. 
You halt in your tracks when you find her sitting in the little nook by the window. A large book resting on her lap. 
You don’t know why you freeze, why you don’t just walk away, why you keep standing there like a fool as you stare at the girl that stole your boyfriend – ex boyfriend. 
She glances up from her book when she feels your eyes on her.
For a moment, she freezes too and stares back at you. 
What are you doing? Just walk away. The angel on your shoulder whispers, trying to save you from the awkwardness of this situation. 
No. Confront her. Tell her what you saw.
You were never one to let the devil win. You were always a good, obedient girl. Always listening to the things the good ones whispered to you. Always doing what you were supposed to do. Always being kind and sweet to everyone around you. Always doing the right thing. 
Maybe that is where you went wrong, by doing the apparent right things. 
But you never did what you wanted to do. 
So you let the devil for once – or maybe the devil is actually the angel and the angel that has been whispering all these discouraging words to you, is actually the devil in disguise,  waiting for you to fail, changing your mind about the things that you want.
“Can I help you?” Nancy asks slowly.
You notice that her hair is shorter than it used to be, a few of her curls fall from the clip that is holding her hair together. 
“No,” you shake your head. 
She furrows her brows when you make your way over to her. 
“But there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.” 
“You wanted to talk to me?” She asks, pointing between the two of you. 
Surprised that you want to talk to her now. 
You nod. 
Nancy can’t help but feel nervous. Despite her dislike for you, she is aware of her wrongs. You have every right to be angry at her – if you are angry at her. 
“I saw you with Jonathan.” 
She tilts her head, eyes straying from you. She looks confused. 
“What?” 
You cross your arms over your chest, the bracelet around your wrist slides down a little. 
“I saw you kissing him.”
“So?” 
“So?” 
Now you feel the anger rushing through you. 
Does she not feel ashamed? 
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. 
“I should be the last person to care about this but I still care about him,” you start as you stare into her confused eyes, “what are you doing is disgusting.”
Nancy begins to understand a little but a part of her still leaves her with a big question mark. 
“I shouldn’t be defending him but I know that he is a good person, despite everything,” you murmur the last part with an eye roll, “and I know that he is good to you.” 
Nancy straightens her back, she pushes the book off of her lap and holds her hands up, “okay, uh I’m a little confused.”
“Oh, you’re confused?” You mumble, trying to keep your voice down, “you’re confused about the fact that you are cheating – openly?” 
Technically, you are not wrong. She did cheat but not anymore. 
“I’m not cheating,” she mumbles, “we’re not together anymore.”
Silence fills the space between the two of you. The only sound you both hear is the thunder and the rain outside before you speak up after a long pause. 
“What?” You ask and Nancy realizes that you don’t know. 
How do you not know about the break up? 
How do you not know that he left her? 
She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest, mimicking your pose. 
“Steve broke up with me.” 
You are stunned. These news are something you did not expect. 
“A few weeks ago, actually,” she explains, “when he came back from you.”
Oh. 
He broke up with her, the night before your birthday, after seeing you. 
“I’m not cheating on Steve. Jonathan and I, we’re together.” 
So, the rumors were true, after all. 
They broke up – he broke up with her. 
“Oh.”
Nancy looks you up and down. There you stand, wide eyed, confused and definitely unaware of the break up that happened so long ago. 
“You didn’t… know?” 
You shake your head and you lean your body against the shelf behind you. 
“No, I-I didn’t know.”
You had almost forgotten about the raging storm when a bolt of lightning strikes through the sky and the lights in the library flicker for a few seconds. 
You draw in a long sharp breath and look down. 
Why didn’t he tell you? You wonder. 
Nancy asks herself the same thing. Why did Steve not tell you about the break up? Why didn’t he call you the way he called her after he broke up with you? 
The two of you stand in front of each other, shocked.
And as Nancy takes a closer look at you, as she sees the slight frown, the look in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the hand over your heart. She knows. She knows that there is still something. 
You are still processing the news, she can tell by the way your eyes flicker back and forth as though you are trying to piece something together. 
“Wait so.. you heard the rumors and you didn’t… think they were true?” 
Your hair falls in front of your face when you lift your head, you don’t bother to push it away. 
“I– well, I…I saw you two together a lot, so, it was hard to believe the rumors.. you know?” 
Nancy nods in understanding. 
“I get it… Then, the rumors with Eddie are not true?” 
For a moment, you think about her question before you turn your head to look at her with a frown. 
“The one I’m pregnant? The one where he sacrificed a lamb to get my undying love and devotion? The one where I cheated on Steve? Which one of them all?” 
Nancy’s eyes widen. 
She can’t help but snort at all those rumors. Shaking her head with an amused smile, she looks down with furrowed brows, “trust me, even I know Munson looks scary but probably is a fan of Garfield or something,” she chuckles. 
A smile tugs at your lips. 
“He does have Garfield pajamas.”
She looks at you with a stunned expression before you both burst into giggles. 
Nancy shakes her head again as the smile fades away. 
“And no, not the pregnant one either.. Jesus,” she sighs. Her eyes find your body again, she looks you up and down with a look that you cannot read. 
Suddenly, you feel self conscious again. You feel the urge to wrap your arms around your waist, wanting to hide your body. 
But her words aren’t ones that you expected. 
“If you’re pregnant with a body like that, is the baby like smushed to the very back?” 
Your breath gets caught in your throat. Your eyes widen at her words and you restrain yourself from gasping or holding your hand in front of your mouth or your stomach. 
Nancy had spent so much time feeling jealous of you, of what you had – because at one point, she thought that you had everything. Beauty, popularity, friends and a guy who was hopelessly in love with you. You had it all and when she got a taste of what you had, she wanted it. She wanted him. She painted a false picture of you in her head, to make herself feel better about stealing from you. 
Though, the false picture in her head didn’t stay for long, it started crumbling the moment she walked into the girls bathroom to hear you crying. She knew it was you, the backpack that laid on the ground had a pin of The Cure on the front, one that only you had. 
After that, she began to pay attention to you. 
She saw the way you looked at Steve, weeks, months after he left you. 
She saw the sadness, the heartbreak, the pain in your eyes and the love that never left. 
She saw the way you looked at the other girls and the way you looked at yourself. The way you stayed in the locker room, a little longer than the other girls. 
The way you looked at her and compared yourself to her. 
All because of him. 
“Y-You look amazing is what I’m trying to say,” Nancy says nervously. 
A flush creeps up to your face as you gape at her. 
To hear it from Steve or even Eddie is one thing, to hear it from a girl who bashed on you, who belittled you is a whole other thing. It feels.. good. 
“T-Thank you..”
Nancy clears her throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Desperately wanting to kill the awkward tension, she goes back to your previous question.
“No… The one where you and Eddie are dating.” 
It takes you a moment to realize what she means. Your mouth falls open and recognition dawns your face. 
“No, it’s not true either. None of them are,” you brows knit together, “wait, why did you think it was true?”
There’s amusement in her features as she takes in the sight of your confused face. She shrugs, “you’re always clinging to one another, and you guys literally kiss on the cheek! Like, who does that to a friend? And– you sit on his lap! It’s hard not to think you two have something going on!” 
You press your hands together, laughing awkwardly, “uh, well, that’s how best friends interact,” you say these words with a twinge of pain in your chest but you don’t understand it, the reasoning behind the pain is unclear to you. 
“Trust me, that’s not how best friends interact with each other – or look at each other,” she adds quietly. 
“L-Like what?”
She stares at you in amusement, albeit a little bewildered. 
“You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?” 
“Oblivious to what?” 
She looks away from you with a small smile, glancing out the window, she pretends to be surprised, “oh, it looks like the storm finally stopped!” She points out. 
The storm had indeed stopped, though the one inside of you, has just begun. 
Nancy reaches for the book on the nook. She grabs her bag and turns back to you, “I gotta go home. Jonathan and my mom must be worried.” 
You follow her with your eyes, staring at her desperately. 
She looks over her shoulder after passing by you, “one piece of advice? Pay attention.” 
And with that, Nancy Wheeler leaves you standing in the empty aisle. 
“What?”
next chapter
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@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan
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rorywritesjunk · 5 months
Text
I won't treat you like you're oh so typical
Buggy wakes you up to help him with his makeup and he sometimes get grabby.
Rating: Soft R? Idk. Some swearing, and uh, innuendos. No sex. I plan to write sex at some point but I just wanted to keep this kind of fluffy for now.
Warnings: Insecure!Buggy because that's my anime husband right there, needing assurance while his lady does his makeup. Some swearing. Buggy is kind of a brat in this.
A/N: Inspired by the image of that woman sitting on top of another doing her makeup. The title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara. Part Two is here!
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“You have got to stop moving, Buggy.” You warned as you held the eyeliner pencil near his eye. “Do you want to be known as Captain Buggy the One-Eyed Clown? Because that’s what’s going to happen if your hand grabs my ass again.”
“But baaaabe!” He whined underneath you. You sat up and crossed your arms as you looked down at him. Currently you had him laying underneath you on your shared bed while you straddled him to do his makeup. Barely twenty minutes ago he woke you up from a deep sleep, demanding you help him with your makeup. You were still in your damn pajamas as you sat on top of your silly boyfriend.
“Buggy.” You sighed. “I can’t get this done if you keep groping me.”
“I can’t help it!” Buggy pouted. “Why are you trying to seduce me while doing my makeup? I can’t control myself when you’re dressed like this!”
You rolled your eyes. This being your pajamas. Light green boxer shorts with bananas printed on them and a shirt you cut the sleeves off of. Of course he’d find that sexy. You held the pencil up threateningly. 
“Let me continue or this is going to take all day.” You told him as you leaned back down. He sighed and settled back down on the bed. While you managed to keep his arms pinned to his sides with your knees, his hands still could wander. You cursed his Devil Fruit powers when it came to situations like this. Sure, they were great for getting things off tall shelves or scratching your back when he was busy, but times like this you cursed it.
“Oh, what big plans do you have?” He asked as you worked the pencil around his eyes carefully. You didn’t respond at first, being careful not to jab him in the eye either on purpose or on accident. You sat up just enough to make sure the job was done well before you sat back up to grab the next bit of makeup. “Does it involve getting naked at any point with your fearsome Captain boyfriend?”
You gave him an unamused look as you grabbed a different pencil, the one you used to draw the skull on his forehead. “I was planning on going back to sleep because my silly Captain boyfriend woke me up to do his makeup and won’t stop trying to feel me up.”
He grinned cheekily at that as one of his hands did grab your ass, giving a sharp pinch to your left cheek. You yelped and reached back to swat at his hand before looking back at him. “Come on!”
“Stop seducing me then!” He whined. “Why do you have to be on top of me every time anyway?”
“Because… of the lighting, Buggy.” You told him as you lied through your teeth. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done his makeup like this. In the past you tried while he sat at his vanity, but found it hard to get the right lighting. Not to mention there was a mirror there and he could see everything you did. He made it a point to give a running commentary about what you were doing wrong and it drove you crazy. You finally gave up and had him lay down on the bed where you could see his face better and have better angles for his makeup. “And the shadows on your face throw me off when you sit down. If I do it this way, I can see your beautiful face more clearly..”
He fell silent as you called his face beautiful, and you noticed his cheeks were a little red. You smiled and kissed him on the forehead before you finished drawing the skull and crossbones. You looked down at him and grinned. So far the makeup wasn’t looking half bad. The last bit was applying the red lipstick. This was actually your favorite part because it was the easiest, and honestly, his lips were so soft to touch that every time you did apply his lipstick, you couldn’t help but kiss him afterwards. 
You grabbed his chin gently to keep his head still as you dabbed it over his lips carefully, making sure to apply it thick. He looked up at you as you did, taking notice how focused you were and how you even stuck your tongue out in concentration. It was… it was cute. He liked seeing you like that. He managed not to pout when you let go of his chin, but when he felt your thumbs on his lips, no doubt to smear the excess lipstick around his mouth, he couldn’t help but kiss at the pads of your thumbs. 
You smiled and cupped his head in your hands gently as you leaned down to kiss him. Fresh makeup on Buggy was always a glorious sight to see, because you knew in a few hours it would start to fade, smear, and look unkempt. You had the honor of seeing him first each day.
After a moment, you nipped at his bottom lip gently before you pulled back from the kiss. You reached up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, looking surprised to see so much red lipstick on it. You must have overdone this time. When you looked back at Buggy, however, you saw the look in his eyes and began to have regrets.
“Buggy…” 
He wasted no time pushing you on your back and rolling on top of you, forcing your legs apart as he grinned down at you. He reached up to touch your lips, dragging his thumb over them slowly, and when he pulled his hand back you could see there was still lipstick on you. You rarely wore makeup, not really enjoying it on yourself as much as you enjoyed seeing it on Buggy. He stared at your lips for a moment longer before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, working his way to your jawline and to your ear, humming in appreciation as he saw the red marks he was leaving. 
He pressed a kiss to your earlobe before whispering, “You really think I’m beautiful, or are you just saying that so I fuck you?”
Honestly, it caught you off guard. He was beautiful. Fuck, his eyes, hair, nose, everything about him was beautiful. His personality, at times, drove you crazy, and he knew that, but you also knew he still had insecurity about his looks and being a pirate and, well, everything. He was just insecure. You reached up and put your hands on his cheeks, smushing them forward and making his lips pucker; he was resembling a goofy fish at that moment.
“The most beautiful person I’ve ever known, Buggy.” You assured him as you pulled him down for a kiss, holding on for just a moment before pulling back and pressing your lips to his nose. You could feel him tense up, and you were proud of him for not pulling away. After letting go of his face, your hands removed his bandana and your fingers began combing through his hair. “Fearsome and flashy, Captain Buggy.” 
“That so?” He grinned, the moment seeming to pass now. “Tell me more then.”
“I’d love to.” You replied. “If you get off me and let me finish your damn makeup.”
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linnamonrolls0 · 2 months
Text
The Winner Takes It All
LMM!Hermes x Reader
Summary:
“devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more…”
You accidentally find your way into the Lotus Casino, where a certain Greek god takes a keen interest in a game of poker, a sweet deal, and… you.
Rating: Mature
Words: 4,480
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A/N:
I wasn’t gonna write this… until I saw some hater saying they’d [redacted] if they saw a LMM!Hermes x Reader fic show up - so naturally, being the disastrous Lin simp that I am, I HAD TO DO IT. After all, learning from the best in proving the naysayers wrong…
A lot of this was written pre-episode, allow it with a few inconsistencies and a lot of research-induced additions!
Mixtape... bloop - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6v2ZfRamJRh8eP6qOqz4ND
Chapter 1: When The Chips Are Down
Contrary to popular belief, apparently it is possible to get lost in Las Vegas.
You were only strolling the Strip with a group of friends on the last day of your whirlwind vacation, but soon enough you found yourself at a dead end, unsure of what turn you’d even taken to get there. 
Hoping to locate a restroom and some means of connectivity to contact your friends, you beelined for the nearest building, flashily labelled the Lotus Hotel and Casino: upon glancing upward, you were met with the sight of a forty-storey tower, with a wide open entrance marked by a blooming neon-bright lotus flower in front of you. It was the sort of place you would expect to be buzzing with life, but oddly enough nary a soul lingered by the shining silver doors; just stillness and silence, save for the muffled music pounding from somewhere inside.
Though you felt overwhelmingly uneasy, that entrance carried a strange magnetism that compelled you to step inside. Something that suggested all your fear would be put to rest the moment you walked through those doors… or into that flower, at least.
You tucked your hands under your sleeves and drew in a deep breath, before you crossed the petalled threshold into an opulent lobby decorated with lotus plants in intricately designed pots and inviting plush couches around the circular hall. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Nevada summer heat, and the whole place seemed to glow in a dark shade of pink. 
You immediately felt an invisible weight ease off of your shoulders as you entered… What had you come here to look for, again?
Right, a phone charger and somewhere to pee. Of course, basic human necessities, how could you forget those so quickly?
Interrupting your line of thought, you paused in your tracks when a tall Barbie doll materialised in front of you, dressed in bright pink from head to toe; upon first glance she looked like some sort of projection, as though she wasn’t real at all.
“Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she greeted you in an almost robotic voice, with a plastic smile stretched across her face, holding out a shimmering green card. “Here’s your Cash Card, have a great time!”
“Cash… what? Do I have to pay for this?” you stuttered, confused beyond belief as you took the card. What was this place?
“No, not a penny!” She shook her head; not a single strand of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair shifted out of place. “Would you like a tour? Here, have a drink. Only the best in the world here!” 
She offered you a glass goblet, filled to the brim with a dark maroon liquid and topped with blueberries, bearing the same eerie magnetism as the doors had done minutes before. You eyed the drink dubiously, brows furrowed as you sniffed it in a futile attempt to ascertain what exactly it was.
“I’m alright, thank you,” you politely declined, “What is—”
But before you could finish your question, the Barbie doll had disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived, and the moment you sipped the strong floral drink, your questions completely evaporated.
Following your curiosity, you craned your neck and looked up to see endless floors lined with rooms and doors and glass balconies, with a pair of glass elevators in the middle. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the great glass elevator could shoot through the ceiling like something out of a children’s book.
At least there were more people in here, though you were certain they too had just appeared as if by magic; not acknowledging you at all, they milled about in the lobby and outside the doors to the casino, beside to what appeared to be an arcade full of excited children playing classic and modern video games alike. Regardless of age, all the guests were clad in fancy-dress costumes; you figured perhaps there was an event taking place that had its attendees reflecting different eras of fashion. Wouldn’t be unusual for this town, everyone was dressed crazy and after three days traversing Sin City’s myriad clubs and casinos, nothing fazed you - or perhaps the effects of whatever you’d taken at that club last night still hadn’t fully worn off, who knew…
Still in a bit of a daze, you floated toward the immense double doors leading to the Casino, already hearing the jingling of slot machines singing proud over the pounding pop beats as their backing track.
The casino was lit by ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, deliberately dimmed to give way to the bright, flashing lights of the various gaming machines assembled around the hall, surrounding a set of card tables in its centre. Chatter and laughter filled the room and people crowded around the tables, playing without a care in the world and having the time of their lives; everyone seemed to have a goblet in hand and a cash card in the other, not dissimilar to your current state. It was warmer in here, though still comfortable enough that you could breathe… Just about.
You wandered through and your attention was glued to a game of roulette at a table beside you, where a couple had just won who knows what, when you were interrupted by a greeting that you just somehow knew was directed at you.
“Well, hello, there,” you heard in a smooth, low tenor behind you.
You whirled around on your heel to be met by… a guy. Literally just a guy, casually leaning on his gorgeously tanned forearms on a nearby craps table, aimlessly toying with a pair of dice in his left hand as he gazed over at you. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his vaguely familiar but handsome face, a mischievous little smirk on his lips, and pretty brown eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights… There was something about those eyes that drew you in. And for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away…
He looked like the most normal person in the room, but he seemed entirely out of place, given that everyone else was dressed to the nines - meanwhile he wore a comfy tan hoodie and sweatpants set, as if he perhaps owned it all and subsequently had no rules to follow in this already-lawless land. When he stepped around his table to approach you, he certainly did swagger around like he ruled the place, and his companions nearby looked at him like they worshipped the ground he walked on. Perhaps he was important, but how were you to know?
“You come here often?” he flirted, just about the most awful pickup line imaginable, but you were past the point of questioning why it still sounded attractive.
How had you ended up here, anyway? Hell knew… But this was Sin City, after all; a little harmless flirting could do you no harm, surely… 
“Nope, never been here before. But weirdly, I don’t want to leave…” you shrugged, taking another sip of that strangely addictive drink.
“Sounds about right, Miss…”
“[Y/N],” you offered casually, uncharacteristically not hesitant.
“Pleasure to meet you…” he said with a playful lilt to his tone, holding out a hand, “They call me Hermes.”
When you shook his hand, for a split second you could’ve sworn you weren’t there anymore - when his smooth hand held yours, something akin to a firework went off inside your mind, and you’d put it down to just sparks if not for the phantom breeze you felt just then, a gust that nearly knocked you off your feet.
You couldn’t place what it was, exactly, but there was something strange about this man. He bore an almost otherworldly quality, as though he wasn’t human at all… But how could he be anything else? Come to think of it, there was a similarly supernatural energy about the casino itself; no wonder he fit right in to this weird wonderland.
“What, you got a Birkin in your back pocket or something, Mr Hermes?” you laughed, trying to shake off that odd suspicion, only to be met by his indignant scowl. Even that was cute.
“And what business do you have with my back pockets?” he teased, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, to which you raised an intrigued brow.
You shrugged, nonchalant, still reeling from that strange feeling. “Nothing yet, but perhaps I’d like to find out…”
“Obviously I do not, but I could hook you up.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, least of all when Hermes smirked, that patented brand of mischief you were quickly growing quite fond of as he swaggered across to the card table; the players welcomed him back gladly. “Care for a game?” he asked, seemingly winning one without even paying attention to it as he rolled the dice carelessly onto the table that stood between you.
As he retrieved the dice, you eyed his hands curiously; they could only be described as pretty, as though he might be a pianist or… an artist of some description. He had his sleeves rolled back and a gold-plated Rolex glimmered on one wrist, a chunky gold chain-link bracelet on the other, and something about that on him was distractingly attractive. It all screamed money, despite his casual tracksuit getup, which would’ve been nothing special if it didn’t look so needlessly expensive in itself. You absently wondered what that obscure tattoo on his ring finger meant, for surely it couldn’t imply he might be taken…
“It’s not like you have anything to lose,” Hermes commented, interrupting your line of thought as he set a few chips down on the table and retrieved his own green Cash Card from his pocket, holding it up to show you. So everyone had them; then, what was the point?
Oh, right. You likely couldn’t do anything with the money outside, so, go figure it was an unlimited free pass.
“I guess I’m in. After all, what you gonna do when the chips are down?” you quoted a challenge, holding your own smug look at the recognition in his eyes.
“I see you speak my language…” he teased, “Even if those aren’t exactly my words.”
“Funny you should mention that. Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Lin-Manuel Miranda?”
“So I’ve been told! Though, I think the correct expression would be that he looks like me. Same difference, he’s me, I’m him, whatever.” He waved a flippant hand, as if instructing you to ask no further questions on the topic.
“Gotcha…” You laughed, putting this all down to a wacky dream by now as you joined him by the card table. “What is this, anyway?” you asked him, raising your goblet in his general direction. He was the only person here without one, which didn’t entirely make sense to you, even in the logic of twisted fever dreams.
“Raise a glass to freedom… and throw it the fuck away,” he sang with a laugh, “Seriously, though, that’s a little addictive psychedelic beverage called blue lotus wine. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t drink a drop.”
“And what if I already did?”
“Well, then you’re well and truly screwed…” Hermes grinned, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. He swiped the half-full glass out of your hand and knocked back the remainder of the wine in one quick gulp, his gaze never leaving yours as he deposited the empty glass on a tray carried away by one of those apparating Barbie waitresses. “And now, so am I.”
He waved over another waitress and grabbed two new glasses of wine off her tray, politely handing one to you. He brought his glass to his lips, slowly sipping at the wine as you eyed his hand wrapped around the glass, absently wondering what that seemingly delicate touch would feel like on you… There was no reason why the simple act of this man drinking hallucinatory wine should’ve been remotely sexy, but you could say the same for him in general; this shouldn’t work, but god damn, it does.
“Was that really the best idea if it’s—” you began, and he quickly cut in.
“Absolutely not, no, but if you come here to forget, you may as well do it right…” Hermes sighed, a momentary flash of resignation in his stance as he briefly let his shoulders droop. “Anyway, whatever, fuck real life. Let’s play?” he offered, running a hand through his dark hair, seemingly shaking himself out of the memory of whatever haunting reality had led him here. As a matter of fact, what had led you here?
“Sure,” you smiled, “What are we playing? I’m pretty sure I saw an arcade on my way in…”
“Come on, there’s no stakes in that! This is where the real fun’s at,” he said with a light laugh, gesturing to the craps table in front of you.
“Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at air hockey!”
“Yeah? I’m a killer at the claw machine, so go figure.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Cute. Shame they don’t have an escape room.”
“Just as well, I’ve always been a little too good with locks… Besides, this place itself is an escape room. Only, there’s no escape…”
“Wait, what?”
“Because… You want to stay, right? What’s waiting for you outside?”
Suddenly, you found yourself struggling to answer his question. Where barely a few moments ago, everything had been so clear, now you could see a hazy cloud inside your mind as you desperately searched for the answer to no avail, almost as though that hallucinogen was beginning to hit hard… 
“Outside? What’s outside? I — I could stay here — You’re… Huh?” you stuttered, “I don’t know where else I’d go.”
Hermes sighed, glancing over at you. “Literally anywhere but here.”
“Sorry?” you questioned, brows furrowed. Had you misread his signals?
“Walk with me,” he offered, and so you obliged as he stepped towards you again. You followed his lead as he strolled on within the confines of the casino, glancing surreptitiously around as though making sure you weren’t being eavesdropped on - though you could only wonder why.
“Alright, I don’t normally do this…” he drawled, “But for some reason I’m taking a liking towards you; and all trickery aside, I don’t take unfair advantage, so here’s the secret. You ever heard of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters?” he asked seriously; you nodded your assurance. “Well, this place is kinda like their island… Only, now it’s here in the modern world, and what better place for it than Sin City? Hence the lightness in the air and the endless supply of blue lotus wine…”
You eyed him curiously, willing him to go on and trying not to focus on his initial confession. “I guess that explains a lot. So this is… eternal psychedelic bliss?”
“Yep, that good old adrenaline and dopamine rush, forever and ever and everrrrr… Half of Olympus has tried to claim it, but nobody really knows whose work of chaotic genius this was.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not at all like he was explaining such an outlandish concept. “When you’re in a casino, time just seems to work differently - and just like that, time moves at its own distorted pace in here. Lost travellers often find their way into this place, it has that draw when you stray off your path - and that’s why I hang out here, not just to wander astray from my own shit, but to guide you back to yours. I’m not immune to this,” he raised his glass, gesturing to the wine, “But I can handle the air just fine, unlike most mortals…”
“And what if I want to get lost?” you challenged, plucking his glass out of his hand, holding his gaze as you brought the drink to your lips. His gaze remained fixed on you as he bit his own lip, his eyes flickering to your lips for a millisecond as you sipped the wine; thirsty, not dissimilar to the way you’d been eyeing him mere seconds ago.
“Mmkay, lucky for you, I have some semblance of sense about me,” Hermes said, stopping by a poker table nearby, where the players immediately cleared a spot for the pair of you. Entirely nonchalant, he swiped a deck of cards off the table, expertly shuffling it as he spoke, “So win the next deal, and I’ll get you out of here.”
“So if I lose, I’m stuck in here?” you attempted to clarify the stakes, trying not to get distracted as you watched him shuffle those cards. Hell, he had such pretty hands, what else could you do but wonder what else he could do with them?
“Pretty much.”
“And what if I ask for a better deal?”
“Better than having your real life back?”
“Yep.”
“Try me…”
“Okay. If I win, my prize is you.”
“Me? What’s the catch?”
“Nothing. Just, you and me, until not even the gods above can separate the two of us,” you teased, peak dramatic, somewhere between flirting and floating. You could get used to this, the weightless feeling of flight…
Hermes quirked a brow at you, undeniably amused. “Interesting thought, given that I’m… well, not above, per se, but one of them.”
“You’re… what now?” You tilted your head to one side, looking curiously across at him. What in the world was he on about?
He shot you a pointed stare, isn’t it obvious? But it wasn’t, until now… when it all began to make sense, slowly: what this place was, how he knew so much about it, why he had a more heightened sense of awareness despite the inherent hypnotism of the literal and metaphorical lotus flower you’d stepped into… And he could guide lost travellers out. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew to your mouth when it finally dawned upon you who and what he was, and what that entailed —
And out loud, all you could manage was a whisper; “Oh, my god…”
The Greek god in front of you heaved a dramatic sigh, aiming a playful eye-roll in your direction. “Please, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he chuckled lightly, the sarcasm heavy in his tone.
And so you let him deal your hand and you played, stopping every so often to laugh, for Hermes was surprisingly fun to be around and perhaps staying here with him wouldn’t be so bad… Only, this couldn’t be his permanent residence. He was the god of travel, it made sense that he never hung around one place long enough to settle. It was obvious he had a natural charisma about him that clearly worked in his favour more than once; and not that it really mattered, but you absently wondered how many like you had crossed paths with him before, and the past baggage he’d been trying to forget was certainly not lost on you…
He had his right arm slung casually around your shoulder, his left occupied by his cards, not caring if you could see them. You tried your level best to stay focused; for you were feeling a little lightheaded by now, a combination of the wine and the strong scent of his cologne… He was close, enough that you could pick up the gentle sweet notes beneath the woody cedar scent he wore.
“All in?” you suggested, nudging your chips toward the centre of the table, glancing up at the literal god beside you.
“I am if you are,” Hermes smirked, pushing his own ridiculous amount of chips into the pot beside yours.
The game went on; and as if out of nowhere, thanks to a sudden turn in your luck and a surprise royal flush - which if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve attributed to him - you had finally won. Caught up in the daze, you stepped up onto your toes and threw your arms around his neck in an excited hug. He was momentarily taken aback by it, but quickly regained enough composure to gently wrap his arms around you. His soft touch bore a pleasantly startling contrast to his mischievous demeanour, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.
“Well played…” he congratulated you in that same teasing tone as he gently drew you back, briefly glancing at his watch and tapping two fingers against the side of the dial.
Perhaps you would’ve wondered why, but spurred on by your victory and high off the adrenaline, you hooked one finger in the gold chain around his neck and gently tugged at it to urge him closer, until the distance between you was barely a hair’s breadth. You could feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, his intense cologne flooding your senses. And suddenly it didn’t faze you that you were in public, and you paid no mind to the way all his casino companions were frozen around you instead of continuing their games… Suddenly, all you wanted was him. 
Was it blasphemous to lust after a god?
Hell, you could deal with the consequences of that later, for right now, his magnetism was pulling you in and you couldn’t bear to look away from those deep, dark brown eyes… Until Hermes leant closer to you and his soft lips brushed yours as he spoke, barely above a whisper yet you could hear him clearly despite the noise, “Not at all…”
Your breathing hitched, at his comment, at his proximity, at… everything about this. How the fuck did he know what you’d been thinking? 
Perhaps you’d dwell on that longer, but just then he reached up to cup your cheek. Though unexpectedly tender, his touch was white hot where his skin met yours, but pleasurably so as you let yourself get lost in it, in him… He pressed his lips to yours in two delicate little pecks, clearly just teasing, and you just about caught sight of his smirk before you stepped up onto your toes to kiss him again, for real this time. His other hand smoothly dropped to your waist, holding you against him and you pulled at his chain with your finger still caught in it, curling your other fist in the soft cotton of his hoodie.
Apparently, even the gods weren’t immune to carnal need, and Hermes was evidently faring no better than you; he gave in to the kiss quickly, all but melting into you, his tongue swiping insistently at your bottom lip, and you weren’t about to stop him. You parted your lips for him, granting him access instead of prolonging this teasing that had left you both desperate. He tasted of something indescribably sweet, mixed with the rich taste of the blue lotus wine that you’d both downed not so long ago, and you already knew he was a far better intoxicant than any drink you’d find here… As he deepened the kiss, his tongue brazenly tasting yours, borderline hungry; you saw a flash of light behind your eyelids, gripped by the feeling that you were flying, all for a mere moment before you became hyperaware of his heated touch and the fact that your feet were still firmly planted on the soft floral-patterned carpet of the casino.
It felt like time had frozen, the world had stopped around you, and nothing mattered except for him and you and the most perfect kiss you’d ever had…
But somehow, instead of clouding your thoughts like you’d expected, you drew back from his kiss with some clarity. Hermes had told you he could never lose. So why, then, had you just managed to win this? You were no expert when it came to these games, and he was clearly a well-seasoned gambling master… Had the notorious trickster god manipulated the deal in your favour? Had he purposely thrown this away for you?
The glimmer in his eyes only looked brighter as you separated, yet somehow those deep browns looked darker, lust clearly getting the better of him; and he made no effort to hide it, despite his small smile and the lightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. You were fairly sure you mirrored it all, and you were in no hurry to let him go…
Only, as the world began to come back into focus, you realised time really had stopped around you: everything and everyone in the casino was frozen, and you glanced up at the god in front of you with a mix of curiosity and fear in your eyes. “When you said you could stop time…” you began, still in disbelief.
Hermes nodded slowly, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk. “Yeah, I meant that literally. I may have had a running out of time crisis once, hence… this stolen life-saver,” he explained, raising his wrist to show you his watch - now upon closer inspection, you realised the hour, minute and second hands all pointed to 12, and he hovered a finger over a button at the side of the dial. “It’s up to you. Want me to bring it back?”
You shook your head. Not only did that beautiful gold timepiece look unfairly gorgeous on his wrist; it also held a piece of magic that could be incredibly useful… “No,” you whispered, “I’m in no hurry. Let’s make this last…”
You tilted your chin up towards him again, and he obliged you with another sweet little kiss. “Well, then… Perhaps I could show you some of the wonders of existing beyond space and time…” he murmured, “What d’you say to that?”
“I say, make time stop for us a little longer. Take me to another world, Hermes…”
The look he shot you just then, could’ve brought you to your knees on the spot - somehow you just knew he was fixated on the sound of his name as you whispered it, and you wondered how he could make you feel that just from a simple touch.
“C’mon, sweetheart; let’s get out of here,” Hermes suggested, offering you an arm; you linked your arm through his as he tapped the side of his watch, resuming the world around you as if it had never paused at all. 
You gazed up at him in awe as he led you out of the casino, back to the lobby and towards the opening of the blooming flower you’d walked in through. The humid summer air hit you both as you stepped outside together, thereby breaking the spell - but you were still captivated by him, regardless. He briefly let go of you to do away with his warm hoodie, leaving him in just a fitted white t-shirt that had no business looking so goddamn gorgeous on him.
You couldn’t help but smile as he hummed softly in your ear, “There’s a place I know in a nearby park…”
Part 2 via AO3 (blasphemous smut ahead)
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sfehvn · 5 months
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hi hello! saw you had requests open and were looking for some prompts to work on?
i hope you dont mind me sending in one :0
possessive or jealous astarion x reader maybe?
reader is divorced, has been for a while, but their ex and them are still good friends. it was a mutual, respectful separation, because the two had different life plans after being together for some time. ex is a great person with a kind heart (and js brilliant artificer or inventor maybe?) and decided to visit reader some time after the game. nothing nefarious, just some nice catching up with one of their closest friends.
just want a lil astarion jealousy here. how reader reacts is up to you. itd be fun if they just roll their eyes but indulge his possessive behavior a tad.
no need to follow everything to a T of course.
other reasons the ex could be visiting (if theyre an artificer or inventor) is because reader commissioned them for a ring or jewelry or something that lets astarion walk under the sun. fun ideas there where astarion sees the ex hand reader a ring, is almost heartbroken, but it turns out reader got the ring for him was gonna propose or something (ring lets vampires walk under the sun). some angst there wahaha
im so sorry this is so long, i had multiple ideas i wanted to offer but didnt wanna flood you.
i understand if you dont wanna work on this (these?). its still just a joy to share these. thanks!
green eyed devil
A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,290 Characters: Astarion x Tav
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━─━────༺༻────━─━
  In the months following the removal of your unwanted little brain passengers you and Astarion had been tirelessly in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. As much as you tried to discourage his masking, there were many mornings you woke to see your lover longingly staring at the covered windows surrounding your bed. Astarion would play it off cooly once the realization he’d been caught dawned on him, but he knew as well as you the agony that hid behind ruby-red eyes. The remorse ate him alive as the color in your own skin began to fade from your previously sunkissed appearance to reflect that of paleness. It stilled in comparison to his, but it was a constant reminder of the fact that, in his judgment, he’d doomed you to a life in the shadows.
  You held him close to your chest and the sound of your beating heart against his ear prompted a moment of weakness. “I feel like I’m destroying you.” His words were a shutter as they left his mouth. You place a small hand on his cold cheek at the sudden confession, commending him to look up at you.
  It was unspoken. You needed no words to tell you how sun-starved you had become and you vaguely recalled the last time you had gone out while it was still beaming. “Hey, I’m alright. We’re making decent progress and have more than a few promising leads. I’m not the slightest worried about it.” Even your reassuring smile and soothing words couldn’t placate the shame he felt.
  “Would you go for a walk at least? You thrive in the sun and instead you’re cooped up in this little room with me until sundown, darling.” You let out a sigh of disapproval and before you can argue the suggestion, he continues. “Do it for me. I can’t bear seeing you like this.” Astarion knew without a shred of doubt that one day you’d grow tired of skulking in the dark with him, given a cure was never found. He’d do everything he could to make sure it never happened. If it did, though, Astarion believed he’d have no reason to continue his miserable existence.
  After a few beats of silence, you finally nod. The look on his face was enough to tell you there was no use arguing the matter away. Evidently, this was important to him, so you sat and readied to do what he could not, what he wanted so desperately: to bathe in the rays of daylight. 
-
  You trudged about the city with no end in mind. Feeling the warmth of sunshine on your skin was a welcome change, and you soaked up the sensation eagerly. There was heavy remorse weighing in your chest at the thought of not being able to share this feeling with your lover all the while. You’re stopped in your tracks at the familiar face before you. “Tav! Well, you’re looking worse for wear.” The man teased. You grinned widely and wrapped your arms around him in a chaste embrace.
“I would say your words hurt, but it is a testament to your honesty, I suppose.” You quipped and stepped back to get a good look at him. It had been a lengthy amount of time since you had last seen him. You recall the last time you had been in each other’s company was when you had attended his wedding to his new wife, a lovely half-elf you had regularly messaged with. From said messages, you knew they had just welcomed a new addition to his family, and you felt great pride in the man he had become. While, yes, you had once shared a bed and a last name, it felt like a lifetime away.
  “You look well, Conrad. It seems fatherhood suits you well.” He did indeed look great, not a day older than when you had last seen him despite the years passed. Black hair that somehow always looked tousled and neat at the same time, bright green eyes with no darkness marring under them, and he’d taken to toning his physique since you’d been with him, ostensibly.
  You were both far too young when you had made the rash decision of running off and eloping together. Just as hastily as you two had agreed to spend the rest of your lives together, things had begun falling apart. Conrad wanted to settle and start creating a family as quickly as possible, while you were keen just the way you were. You were confident you never wanted children to begin with. Though your thoughts on the matter have recently changed, it is a testament that finding the right person has shown you things you weren’t even aware of about yourself before. 
  “Despite the lack of sleep, we can agree on that.” Conrad chortles gleefully, motioning you to follow him to a nearby bench. Once seated, he turns his body to face you. “You are a tough one to find, my friend. Amira told me you have been holed up in Elfsong for a while, and it was still much like digging through a needle in a haystack. The same old adventurer, hm?” He questions fondly, recalling your nature without abandon.
  “You could say that.” You shrugged casually. Your head quirks as if a thought just popped into your mind. “Why are you back in Baldur’s Gate? You should be home tending to Amira.” You think back to her last letter, detailing the struggles she had been having caring for their new babe. Conrad was a journey away.
  “I am here at her request.” He corrects with a wave of his hand. “It seems you and Astarion have troubled her heart with your story. She can’t stand the thought of two people so in love plagued by such great hardship. Ever the romantic she is.” You smile sadly as you remember your lover confined to the inn's room. He holds up a finger, beckoning your brow to crease as he dug into the pockets of his robe. A quiet ‘aha’ emerged as he seemingly located what he sought. He outstretched his hand to you, a simple silver-banded ring held between his fingertips. “It’s not the cure, of course. At the very least, your search won’t have to be restricted during daylight hours.” 
Your breath catches in your throat as you bite back tears at the kind gesture. “Conrad, I can’t believe this.” You whisper as he drops the ring into your palm. The magic-infused band feels almost as if it hums against your hand.
“Ring of the sunwalker. I must say, it was one of the most challenging feats I’ve committed to.” Conrad muses, clearly proud of his work. You had been in search of one to gift to Astarion but they were impossible to stumble upon and even more impossible to find an artificer who was skilled enough to conjure one up. You clinch the ring in your fist and pull the man into a tight hug, painfully aware of the tears that assaulted his robe.
  “Thank you, Conrad. I don’t know how to repay you or Amira for this kindness.” Your words were earnest, and you dab under your wet eyes.
  “No repayment necessary, Tav. You’re family to us. It pains us to know you’re in such a tight predicament. However, a visit once you and your other half are ready would be welcomed. Got to lay the law out and let this vampire know who he’ll have on his tail if he ever hurts you.” His teasing cadence elicited a laugh from you, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own.
  You two chat for a while longer before bidding goodbye to one another. “Just make sure that gets put to use, Tav. You look like you haven’t had a drop of sunlight in your life.” You reassure that you will with a broad smile.
  The walk back to the inn is painstakingly long given how eager you were to present Astarion with his new ring. The image of your lover once again bathed in sunlight made your heart swoon. When opening the room’s door you can hardly contain the excited smile on your lips. Astarion was unmoving on the bed, trying to slip into a meditative state when you entered the room.
  “The sun is still up, my darling—plenty of fun to be had out there.” There was feigned annoyance in his words but in reality, he was contented to have you back where he knew you were safe. There was something off, though. Astarion pushes himself onto his elbows and stares at you with narrowed eyes. The look made your breathing hitch, your smile faltering the slightest bit.
  Within a second, he’s in front of you, faces a mere inch apart. “What’s wrong?” You asked carefully, hand instinctively reaching for the ring in your pocket. You twiddle your fingers around it but hesitate to pull it out.
  “You reek.” He deadpans, inspecting your body as if searching for a physical sign you’d been laid up with another man. 
  “Well, that’s kind of rude.” You joked, but the silence that followed told you there was more to it than he’d let on.
  “You reek of another, my dear.” His words dripped with condescension, and you let out a chuckle, ready to explain away his worries.
  “Oh no, that’s just Conrad. He actually-” Before you could say anything more, you were pressed firmly between the solid oak door behind you and Astarion’s firm chest. He looks down on you, and you can’t discern if his red eyes radiate that of rage or lust. Perhaps both.
  “Your ex-husband. I leave you alone for all but a few hours, and you find your way into another man’s arms?” Accusatory words were whispered into your ear, the sensation of his soft lips tickling the sensitive skin. His fingertips firmly planted into your hip as he led you to the bed, pressing you roughly to the soft comforter you two had spent so many days wrapped up in one another atop. His greedy hands expertly flip you over. Your ass stood in attention before him, and he worked the skirt of your dress up until it pooled around your chest.
  Before you could comprehend his jealous fit, your underwear was ripped from your body, and his hard cock was buried deeply inside of you. You let out a moan at the sensation of him filling you. His hand slid up your back until it reached the back of your head, taking a fistful of your long hair into his palm as he plowed into you, hips slamming loudly against your skin throughout the otherwise quiet room—your back arches as you allowed him to take you. Your eyes rolled back, and you grasped the sheets tightly in your own hands.
  Astarion had become increasingly possessive of you since the Mindflayer incident came to a close. Still, you’d never put him in a position to react so passionately to any jealousy he may have felt. When his hand wrapped around you to make contact with your clit, you knew you were putty in this man’s hands. He rubbed slowly and firmly, his other hand still in your hair. You cried out in pleasure, everything in your mind melting away as he fucked you into the bed.
  “Bet Conrad never fucked you with such tenacity, hm, darling?” His words were confident, fastening his pace as he failed to receive an answer, a silent reminder that he expected a response from those pretty little lips.
  “N-never.” You stutter feeling winded from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.
  “Good girl.” He grunted in response, finding a smoother pace. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with how your drenched core gripped his cock, and his fingers continued their attention over your sensitive clit. “You’re mine. Understand?”
  You nod numbly as stars flood your vision, crying out with the orgasm that electrified your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.” His words came from gritted teeth, and you obliged, the words falling from your mouth causing him to reach his completion, his seed filling you full. As he shifts to lay beside you, he looks at you with darkened eyes. “Why were you with him?” There was no hiding the distaste in his voice.
  “Before you so rudely, but pleasurably, interrupted me, I was going to explain that to you.” You hummed teasingly, sitting up beside him. Your dress rested around your knees as you did so and you reached for the ring in your pocket. You offered it out to him and you didn’t have to speak a word for him to know what possibilities the simple-looking ring possessed. 
  He slipped it onto his finger and stood from the bed. He walked to the covered window and pushed the curtains aside. There he stood in all his glory, the sun's rays illuminated against his pale skin. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting out the faintest cry of satisfaction at the warmth he had so longed to feel again. You move to stand behind him, your arms wrapped around his waist. Your forehead rests against his back, and a content smile plays on your mouth. “You thrive in the sun, too.” You pointed out softly.
  “Perhaps I owe that artificer a thank you. His scent on you tells me he touched you one too many times, though. That said, I will not like it. And I will not like him.” You knew Astarion would never accept Conrad as a friend due to his possessiveness, but you knew he was thankful. That was a step in the right direction at the least.
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
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so what’s this christmas story 👀
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(The AI photos in the collage are just used here for aesthetics, but won't be used in the actual post!!)
Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 
And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.
What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.
He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.
A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.
The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up with the burning cigarette still tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”
You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”
“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”
You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”
“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”
“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”
He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.
You nod.
“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”
And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 
“Oh,” you whisper, and he hums.
“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”
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chrollohearttags · 10 months
Text
thinking about door dasher!eren again as I sit here working
no warnings, except this mf being annoying ☠️
working remotely, sometimes up into the late night hours, it would often times render you unable to leave your desk until after long after a majority of the restaurants and grocery stores in your city had already closed for the day. Besides, you often times didn’t feel like standing over a stove after staring at computer screens and crunching numbers for eight plus hours. So the most viable to ensure you didn’t go hungry once you clocked out was to have DoorDash deliver something. It wasn’t something that had ever really crossed your mind but it was quite the convenient service. However, what you didn’t bet on was your dasher being quite possibly the list insufferable man to ever walk the earth! Eren, the tall, dark haired, handsome green eyed devil who always managed someway or another to get your orders. Scooping it up from your eatery of choice but not without unwarranted sarcastic commentary..tonight was no different! Pulling up to your apartment complex in a grey Challenger, tinted windows with the windows rattling from the obnoxiously loud speakers in his trunk. Blasting Young Nudy or Dolph, as if he had not a lick of fucking sense. “Your Dasher Eren has picked up your order” As soon as you got that notification, your stomach would instantaneously fill with dread.
where most would be glad to see their delivery driver and even tip them, you only went into defense, preparing to have to go for a battle of wits and possibly cussing his ass out. “Bring my food and don’t start today.” But he’s gone do more than just start, he’s gone piss you off! Standing outside of your door, scraping up the pavement in Nike Slides, sweats and a hoodie, beatboxing on your door. “(Y/N)! Hey girl, come get your food!” Putting all your business out there. Telling the whole complex how you ordered a milkshake and a large fry (emphasis on the large!) “I know you hear me. Why you playing?!” Just being an obnoxious asshole 😭 you’re yelling from the 2nd story window for him to leave it. “Eren, I’m not playing with you. Leave my food and go!”
but he’s waiting until you come greet him because he’s not done. “Shawtayyyy!” Acting like a complete degenerate until you come down, flinging the door open. “The fuck do you want, bro?! Give me my food.” Snatching the bag and drink from his hand. Smacking your lips all flustered. But he just keeps wearing that shit eating grin and smirks at you. “Shit, I want my tip. What’s up?” Knowin exactly what he means but the only thing you have for him his a closed door to the face. 0 stars for sure.
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