#ALL HE COULD THINK TO DO WAS REACH OUT AND I'M EXPECTED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THAT??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aphrogeneias · 8 months

Text

more than seven minutes — one-shot

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk

author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Don't you trust us?"

From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."

It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.

They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it.

You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.

Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.

You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"

"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"

You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.

Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.

He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"

Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."

When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"

"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"

"I'm not acting weird…"

"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."

You weren't avoiding Steve.

At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.

After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.

The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.

Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.

There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space.

"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."

Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."

With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.

"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."

"A what?"

"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"

"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.

"What was your dream like?"

He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.

It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.

"Steve…"

"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."

Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"

"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking."

You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."

Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Yeah." You breathed out.

One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.

"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"

It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"

"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."

Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.

"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"

Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.

"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?"

"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"

"Shut up."

Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.

"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."

His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.

"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.

"Consider it payback, baby."

They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"

"Yeah. Please."

Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.

Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.

A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements.

"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."

Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.

"Louder. Let me hear you."

"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."

At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.

He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.

"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.

After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.

Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.

Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.

Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.

Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.

"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"

"Go away, Buckley! Jesus."

Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"

"Yeah. Your point being…"

"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."

Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut

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thekeystothebasement · 1 year

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REQUEST!! Head empty just thinking about throwing the 141 guys on their back to ride the living soul out of them till they're babbling non sense+ including König and graves these boys are to die for🤤🤎🤎🤎

A/N: I'm slowly making my way through the requests, This one took me a bit longer than I expected. It was quite challenging writing similar prompts for different characters without sounding repetitive.I went hard on Captain Price and Ghost's parts but I sort of felt like the quality went down after that :(

Let me know what ya'll think!

Check out my post: WIPS and Requests if you're interested in what I have planned or curious about the rules I set for requests.

Captain Price:

You've been needy all day and Price hasn't been giving you the attention you've been craving.

He was constantly pacing around the base, in meetings, and never having an opportunity to be with you until you found one.

After wandering around the base like a lost puppy looking for its owner, you found Price at his office, sitting in his big leather chair.

You could hear him sigh out of frustration, rubbing his temple, you could see the exhaustion on his face.

Normally you would leave him alone or even convince him to rest but you were so fucking needy.

The ache between your legs only seems to grow by the second.

Seeing him lean back into his leather chair, legs spread and letting out a sigh of frustration you finally decided to pounce.

"Daddy" you whimpered as you bounced on his dick. You were riding him eagerly, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. Normally Price would be so rough with you, pounding you against his desk and calling you a whore, his little slut. But Price couldn't even form a coherent sentence. Any words coming from his mouth were slurred as he looked at you with hooded eyelids.

"I'm a good girl, right?" you asked as you kept your relentless pace. "I'm taking care of daddy." you giggled as you felt him throb inside of you. You rocked your hips against him as you leaned closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"C'mon daddy, let it out." you whimpered. You gently nipped at his ear earning a throaty moan from him. "Let your baby take care of you. Be a good boy for me."

You let out a gasp at his weak attempt to thrust up into you, his nails leaving marks on your hips.

"Princess..." he whimpered

"Yes, sir?" you were smiling down at him, feeling him tense under you before shuddering as his cum shoots deep into you. His body goes limp on the leather chair as you continue to ride him, not satisfied with the amount of cum he gave you.

"Giving up already?" you pouted. You could feel his semen run down your burning thighs, leaving you even hornier.

"C'mon old man, your princess wants more."

Ghost:

Ghost never liked to relinquish control.

Whenever you tried to take the reigns you were always put in your place

On your back with your legs over his shoulder as he pounded into you, desperately trying to breed you.

Despite how good he made you feel, you always had the fantasy to be on top.

You wanted Ghost to be the one left quivering and begging.

You wanted to be the one in control. You wanted to be the one to be able to hold's Ghost pleasure over his head.

You wanted Ghost to beg you to let him cum, which is exactly what your ears are hearing.

"Fucking hell, don't do this to me, baby..." Simon pleaded. The rope tied around his wrist wouldn't budge no matter how hard Simon's hands tried to reach out to your body. He couldn't remember how many times you kept bringing him to the edge of pleasure, riding his cock and squeezing your warm wet cunt around him, to only pull away when you feel the familiar throb of his cock ready to burst his semen inside you.

"C'mon lieutenant..." you whispered into his ear as your fingernail traveled from his neck down to his chest. "I know you can beg better than that. How much do you want to cum inside this wet pussy." You teased.

You can see how red his tip was, practically ready to blow his load inside you with the slightest touch. His breathing was labored, his chest rapidly rising and falling. The rope tied around his ankles kept him from bucking his hips into you, as you hovered over him. Your pussy is just a few mere centimeters from his cock.

"c'mon princess..." he choked out, completely frustrated in the predicament he woke up to. "Please ride me..."

You couldn't help the wide grin that appeared on your face as you looked down at Simon. As soon as those words left his mouth you bounced down onto his cock earning a whimper from the man below you.

"As you wish lieutenant."

Soap:

You and Soap had made a bet after a heated argument in front of the 141 task force.

Somehow the topic landed on Sex

Soap had begun to brag that he could last hours to the point he'd outlast his partner which earned a snort from you.

All eyes landed on you at your reaction, Soap didn't take it lightly and thus started your mini argument

The argument ended when you and Soap agreed to have sex with each and see who would last the longest.

The group was astounded at the interaction and decided to stay at the bar longer than they planned as they watched you and Soap leave.

They did not want to be around you both as the bet took place.

"Johnny..." you panted as you looked down at the male before you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he roughly panted below you. "Admit it. You can't outlast me. My pussy is about to put you to sleep."

Soap could only whimper as you continued to bounce on his cock, vulgar wet sounds emitted by your actions. A ring of white can be seen in the base of his cock, the ring getting thicker and thicker as you continued to ride him. His hips would lazily try to meet yours, missing the rhythm you had set.

Your giggles echoed in his room as you felt his body stiffen, knowing his semen was about to be freed from their chamber. You could hear him babble nonsense as your cunt squeezed around his cock, squeezing the last bit of cum he had. Hissing as he nutted in you.

"you're a fucking minx..." he panted out. His hand tapped the inside of your cum covered thighs.

"Tapping out, Johnny?"

Gaz:

You and Gaz were the youngest members of the task force.

Because of this, you two got along well.

A little too well for everybody's comfort

It was no secret you two were fooling around with each other

Every member has their own experience catching you two in the act, mortifying all who were involved

But that never stopped you and Gaz from doing it again

The bathroom, kitchen, and even the sparring room were not safe from your lewd acts

Hell, you could imagine Price's shouting already

You were riding Gaz on Price's favorite couch, the worn-out fabric couch by the coffee table

"You got issues Gaz,"

Gaz was leaning back on the couch, 'coincidentally' the very spot Price sits on every day. He watched as you did all the work. Watching as your breasts jiggled with every bounce on his dick. He leaned further into the couch as you continued to belittle him.

"You like it when we get caught," you teased. "Pervert."

Gaz felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, you were breathtaking, you looked so beautiful riding him. Your hands settled on his shoulders as you raised your hips and fell down on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass.

"Hurry up and cum Gaz," you gasped out. His fingers tightened around your hips as he edged closer and closer to the height of his pleasure. "Don't want the Captain to walk in and see me riding his favorite sergeant?"

"...fuck..."Gaz moaned. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined your words. "...baby"

"Sick-fuck..." you teased. You quicked your pace, moving your hips in a circular manner. "You want the Captain to see me milk your cum from your balls?"

"shit..oh god..." Gaz cried out. You felt his body stiffen as he chanted 'yes baby' He could feel your walls squeezing around him, desperately trying to milk him.

As you feel his cum dribble down your thigh, your next set of words had him running through a list of emotions, his limp dick twitching inside of you despite his consciousness telling him how wrong it was to be getting hard in the situation he found himself in.

"Hi, Captain. Enjoying the show?"

Konig:

Konig's eyes followed you everywhere and you noticed for quite a bit of time.

You never really held a conversation with the tall male before.

He was too anxious to talk to you but whenever you approached him and try to converse with him, he could only reply with one-word responses.

Despite the lack of conversations, you enjoyed his presence.

You would be writing in your journal across from him and he would sketch on his sketchpad.

You've seen his sketches before, he was quite skilled and you rained compliments on him.

He would awkwardly laugh at your compliments, his mask hiding the big smile and blush on his cheeks.

Konig's body would soon stiffen under your next question, his hand harshly gripping at his sketchpad, and his pencil snapped in the other.

"Have you ever done nude art?"

You already knew the outcome when you suggested he draw you nude.

The devious smile on your face as you led him to your room and rid yourself of your clothes.

You admired Konig's self-control when he actually did try to sketch you nude but you had other plans.

"Mesmerize every square inch of my body." you panted. Konig was sprawled on the floor as you used his body for your complete and utter pleasure. His sniper hood was discarded in the room as his forearm covered his eyes, tears streaming down his face from the pleasure of your tight walls squeezing his overstimulated cock.

Whimpers and breathy moans escaped his throat and released into the room. Wet sounds resonated in the room as you bounced on his cock and scratched and clung to his chest.

"I'll remember..." Konig breathed out. "I'll remember...Scheiß...your curves..and...tight pussy"

You laughed at his weak attempt to reply to you, his sentence broken each time your ass landed on his balls earning whimpers and curses from the male. You could feel Konig's dick throb inside of you and his moans becoming higher and more frequent.

"Cum inside of me..."You begged. "and then you'll be able to draw me full of your semen."

Graves:

As soon as you got a glimpse of his eyes, you knew you were going to fuck him into submission

The way his eyes would shined when he stepped into the dinner and noticed a cute young waitress looking at him with a soft smile

He'd sit in a booth and pray you'll be his waitress for the night

He'd subtly flirt with you but you knew what you wanted and aggressively flirted right back at him

His eyes would follow your figure as you'd walk away, his eyes focusing on your ass

When you returned with his food you sat in the chair in front of him and kept him company as he ate his meal

Eventually, your boss yelled at you to get back to work, leaving Graves smirking at the small pout on your face.

You would lean down to his ear, his eyes gazing at your cleavage, your hand squeezing his shoulder as you whispered into his ear, "I get off at 10. If you'll wait for me, I'll make it worth your while."

You stood back up, dusting your skirt and sending him a wink before getting back to work

Despite the car having tinted windows, the rocking of the car and the smudged handprints on the windows gave away what was happening inside.

Phillip was sprawled on the car seat that was set all the way down, you were sat on his clothed dick, rocking your wet folds against the wet fabric of his briefs. His briefs stained with his cum and your arousal.

“C’mon baby….fuck,” Graves whined. “Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You gave him false hope as you lifted your hips up and pulled down his briefs. You continued to rock your hips, your wet folds spreading your arousal on his red tip. You felt him shudder under your teasing, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands tried to grip the leather seats.

“Please stop teasing me, baby.” He begged.

You grinned at him, lining yourself up with his dick before you slowly eased him inside of you. Your eyes closed shut momentarily before the were snapped open, feeling Grave shoot his cum inside of you.

Your laughter filled the car as you began to bounce on his dick, whimpers and moans escaping from Graves.

“Was my pussy that good,” you questioned. “Fucking nutted just by being inside of me….Pathetic”

Graves couldn’t help but enjoy the way you degraded him, feeling your warm walls hug his cock, and the way yours eyes looked down at him. Your eyes looking at him as if he was a toy for your pleasure. Disregarding how sensitive he was from all your teasing, not caring how many times you made him cum inside of his briefs, his cum and your arousal mixed with each other, wet sounds emitted each time you lowered your hips all the way till his balls were tightly pressed against your ass.

“Shit….gonna fuck myself on your cock till the sunrise…”you said as you felt him throb inside of you once again.

“ if you can even last that long…”

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italiansteebie · 1 year

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Somehow, Steve is behind on every pop culture reference of this century, even with all the children he babysits.

That's why when Eddie Munson walks into the coffee shop he works at, he has no idea who he is and why he’s whispering. He almost wants to yell at him to speak up, but the way the guy is pulling his hat down over his face, sunglasses planted firmly on his nose, Steve can’t help but to wonder if he’s okay. If maybe he’s trying to avoid someone.

So before he can order, Steve leans in asking softly, “Hey are you okay? Is it someone in the shop you’re hiding from? Because I can kick them out.” His protective streak apparently extends beyond his kids. The guy seems to brighten at this, “I'm okay, honest. Just trying to stay out of the spotlight.” There’s something in his tone of voice that is more serious than it should be, but Steve continues on with the transaction.

It’s pretty dead in the shop, so Steve decides to strike up a conversation. “You new in town?”

“I- What?”

“Oh sorry. I just- usually only regulars come in on Sundays. I was just wondering if you've moved here recently or if… I don’t know, you're visiting or something?” Steve finishes awkwardly. And the guy lets out the most angelic laugh, Steve thinks he’s in love.

“I’m just visiting.”

Steve gets the feeling this guy doesn’t want to talk, so he moves to finish his drink. Handing it to him with a “Well, I’m here if you need someone to show you around!” and a smile, with his instagram handle written in bold, black ink on the side. The beautiful guy smiles at him, more genuine than it had been before, and turns to walk away.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

Beautiful man arches his eyebrow again, and shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Eddie.”

And with that he leaves, and Steve is left starstruck for the rest of the day.

It’s not long before Steve sees Eddie again, in fact he’s there the next morning. Waiting by the counter with his hat and sunglasses planted on. Steve wonders if maybe they’d been glued to his face in some sort of prank. Seems unlikely though.

Eddie approaches the counter, and before he can order Steve leans in, “I was serious yesterday, if there’s someone around here bothering you let me know. It just- seems like you’re uncomfortable or something.” And that beautiful smile graces Eddie’s lips again.

“I’m okay, really. It’s just. A lot of people know me and I don’t… I just want a normal morning at a coffee shop, y‘know?” Steve shrugs, “I can’t say I do, but If you want to talk I’m all ears. Well- Not now of course,” He laughs, “I'm on the clock, but I get out at noon?” He suggests. And who can blame him, there's a beautiful man right in front of him and he’s only human. Of course he’s going to flirt.

It seems to work too because Eddie agrees and shortly after there's a phone number written on his arm, with weirdly strict instructions to not share it with any one.

—

It’s noon, and Steve’s expecting to pull up to a house, but the GPS leads him to a rather nice hotel. One more expensive than he could afford even for one night. He spots Eddie waiting in the lobby, waving at him, signature hat and glasses still on.

“Hey, I decided to meet you down here. I don’t think they’d let you up without me.”

And Steve just smiles and nods, happy to be hanging out with Eddie outside of a place of business.

Once they reach Eddie’s room, Steve trails in slowly behind him, almost in before there's a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him back. He flinches, as a deep voice loudly says “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I- Uh. I was, uhm, going to see Eddie?” He finishes voice pitching up at the end like its a question, biting his lip willing the anxious tears that sprouted not to fall. The guy glares at him, “I don’t think so-” But he’s cut off by Eddie, “Woah, Gareth. It’s okay, he’s with me.” And that seems to calm ‘Gareth’ down, and Steve’s shoulders slump in relief. “I didn’t um. I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” He says, cheeks going red. Eddie waves his hand, “Don’t worry about it, Stevie.” And for a second Steve wonders how he knows his name before realizing he’s been wearing a name tag in every one of their interactions.

“He’s harmless, I promise.” Eddie assures ‘Gareth’ again.

And with that he leaves them alone. They talk for hours, and the time flies by, and Eddie invites him to dinner with him and his friends. He agrees easily, from what Eddie has told him, they all seem pretty cool, although he finds it a bit odd that they all share the uniform of sunglasses and hats.

At dinner, he can hear the subtle clicks of cameras and whispers, and he quietly wonders if there’s some type of celebrity around. Eddie and his friends laugh, but Steve seems to have missed the joke.

Overall it was a great night, ending with him and Eddie leaving hand and hand, sharing a soft kiss as Eddie walks him to his car parked in the hotel lot.

Once safely alone in his car, he squeals like a teenage girl, kicking his feet, twirling his hair, the whole nine yards. He goes to call Robin but in some odd coincidence, she’s already calling him.

“STEVE WHAT THE FUCK.” She’s shouting before he can even speak.

“Robs! I was just about to call you! I had the most amazing date,” He gushes, conveniently leaving out the part where he admits that his date's friends were with them.

“Yeah, I know, Steve. It’s ALL OVER TWITTER.” And she’s screaming again, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear.

“What do you mean? It was just a date, I wasn’t with anyone else!”

“You were with EDDIE MUNSON.”

“Yeah I kn- How do you know the name of my date?”

“Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.” She sighs.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you met Gareth AND Eddie AND Jeff and Keith! The only four men I would ever let inside me!” Steve cringes at that, “Robs. Never say that to me again. And what is going on? Did- Did you follow me to my date again?” He can hear her exasperated groan from the other side of town, no phone needed.

“Steve. Listen to me. Do you know the band Corroded Coffin?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, kind of. Dustin talks about them sometimes.” he doesn't know what this has to do with the beautiful man he just went out with.

“Okay. So here’s the deal. You have gone on a date, and smooched, SMOOCHED, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin.”

“I- What?”

“You kissed the lead guitarist of a very popular band.”

“Oh.”

“YEAH, OH, DINGUS.”

His phone chimes and he pulls it away from his ear to check the notification.

‘eddiemunson_CC just followed you.’

Another one follows immediately after that.

‘eddiemunson_CC sent you a message’

“Oop- He’s texting me, hold on.”

“Put me on speaker!”

“Oh, he has a blue check mark next to his instagram name thingy, that's cool!”

“Steve, oh my god, what did he say?”

Steve looks at the message, ‘I was trying to avoid the paps. Sorry, Stevie, they caught us.’ He responds quickly with an ‘It’s okay Eddie! I had a great time tonight!’ He narrates this all to Robin who is responding quite enthusiastically. “We can be famous by association, Steve!” She says in a “duh” tone of voice.” Steve rolls his eyes, “I think I’d rather just date him.”

He ends the call with Robin shortly after that and proceeds to text Eddie, punching in the faded sharpie written number on his forearm, Instagram DM’s weren’t very private according to Eddie, easily hacked or something like that. They text back and forth for a while, arranging a proper date in Eddie’s hotel room where they don’t have to be so discrete.

Eddie’s back in the coffee shop the next morning, uniform intact, basically loitering until Steve is done with his shift. They head back to the hotel room, blatantly ignoring the photos that are being taken of them. Back in Eddie’s room, Steve hears Corroded Coffins music for the first time, it's good. No wonder they’re so famous. Steve shares that sentiment and much to his chagrin, Eddie teases him relentlessly about it.

The internet knows of Eddie's new beau, and by extension, so does Dustin, who yells at Steve for not mentioning it sooner.

And if Corroded Coffin’s next album has more love songs than the others combined, well. We all know why.

inspired by @steddiealltheway's rockstar Eddie and clueless Steve fic!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #rockstar Eddie munson #barista Steve Harrington #meet cute #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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strangersteddierthings · 3 months

Text

Rockstar Life

It might have all been forgiven, if Eddie had called. If Eddie had called and begged forgiveness immediately.

Steve could believe- would be willing to look past one drunken mistake.

But Eddie doesn't call.

Eddie doesn't call. Not in the morning after. Or the following day. Or the next.

Steve doesn't reach out either, because how can be he expected to? Paparazzi caught Eddie shoving a mysterious man against the wall in a dark alley, captured their heated kisses and how they barely separated for long enough to get into the back of an uber, and Steve knows as soon as he sees the pictures that he won't be reaching out.

He's not the one that's done anything wrong.

It takes three days for Steve to hear from Eddie. It's a shock, a genuine surprise, because it's face to face. Steve hears the front door close, and he thinks it's Robin, come to check on him again so he doesn't even turn around from where he's making a quesadilla directly on the stovetop.

He does freeze completely when it's not Robin's voice he hears.

"Steve, I am so sorry. So fucking sorry. I can't even begin to explain how sorry."

Three days ago, Steve might have forgiven him.

Today, he's not feeling so generous. He turns the burner off and scoots the half-cooked quesadilla to the cooler side of the stovetop before turning around.

Eddie looks wrecked. Dark bags under his eyes, made even darker by his paler than normal skin, hair a type of messy Steve hasn't seen since the spring break Eddie was in hiding and unable to take a proper shower. He looks heartbroken, distraught and upset. All things Steve felt up until this exact moment. Now that he's face to face with the love of his life, he feels nothing.

"Am I moving out, or are you?"

The noise Eddie makes is heart wrenching. Steve's not so numb and hateful to not recognize that. "Babe, please-"

"Do not call me that," Steve interrupts, "not when you were probably whispering that to someone else just days ago."

"Ba-Steve. Steve, please. I swear it was a mistake. It- I was way too drunk and high to be thinking clearly-"

"I don't want your excuses, Eddie. I want to know if I'm packing my things, or if you are."

"Steve, can't we talk about this?"

That makes Steve's blood boil. "Talk about it? Talk about it? Now you want to talk about it? You should have wanted to talk about it the second you slunk from that guy's bed. Or did you have to kick him from yours? Or, worse, has it taken three goddman days to hear from you because you were still in bed!?"

"No!" Eddie cries, "no, it didn't- it was just-"

"Stop!" Steve shouts, "I don't want to hear any details! I don't care if that uber only made it a block before you came to your senses and bailed. That doesn't- those pictures- you pinned him to the wall, Eddie!"

Eddie is silent, shrinking in on himself in a way Steve's never seen. Steve pushes down the urge to comfort him.

Steve is the one in need of comfort. He's the hurt party here.

"If I were sober, it never would have happened," is all the reply Eddie finally gives. It's not good enough.

"I can't trust that!" Steve turns away, pressing his hands against his eyes hard enough to see light that isn't there. "How am I supposed to believe you? You didn't even- you didn't even call. It was like- like you didn't even know that I knew. But you must have found out. That's why you're here." Steve drops his hand and turns around. "Who told you I knew?"

Eddie swallows. "Max."

Steve nods because of course it was Max. She was the one who handed him the tabloid with the picture in it, three days ago. "So, if you didn't know I knew, you would have, what, never told me?"

"NO, no, I just- I didn't know what to say. How to say it. But then Max called yesterday and-" Eddie says Max's name with too much bite, like it's a curse. Like Max tattled on Eddie instead of exposed his betrayal.

"Shut. Up," Steve growls, "you don't get to be mad at Max for your fucking mistake! I've know you're a goddamn cheater for three days, and it's not until Max let you know that I knew, that you decided to fix it? Well, it can't be fixed, Eddie!"

"Steve, please," Eddie is crying, and Steve's seen him cry a handful of times before but this one hurts deepest. Steve's the reason for the tears, and because you don't just stop loving someone overnight, that hurts.

"No. No! I can't trust you! How many other times has this happened?-"

"Never, never I swear-"

"- Would you have ever said anything if you hadn't been fucking caught on camera?!"

"Yes, of course I would have!"

"How am I ever going to believe that?" Steve cries, "I had to learn that the love of my life cheated on me at the same time the rest of the goddamn world did! Jesus Christ, Eddie, when you said you wanted that rockstar life, I thought you meant like, big fancy house, grammy's and an invite to the met gala. Not goddamn sex, drugs and rock n' roll!"

For the first time since Steve's known him, Eddie Munson stands before him with nothing to say.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @skepsiss @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #hurt/no comfort #cw cheating #its a modern au but steve doesnt use social media #just a lil ficlet #i have no plans to continue as of now

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fatecantstopme · 3 months

Text

What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut

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pedantic-poison · 10 months

Text

promise? | LN4

part 2

pairing: fem!reader x lando norris

warnings: smut sort of?, suggestive, 18+ MINORS DNI, some touching and mentions of being tied up, language

word count: 1.5k

author's note: I've never written for f1 drivers or written smut before so any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated!! might do a part 2 if y'all like it we'll see

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying (and failing) to focus on the plate of food in front of you. Without realizing, you found your gaze traveling yet again to the man seated to your right, admiring your boyfriend's profile as Lando spoke animatedly to his teammate seated across from him. Usually, you loved McLaren's team dinners, but tonight your mind kept wandering to Lando and rooting itself firmly in thoughts that you could not entertain when you still had another hour left to go before you could start to head home.

Lando caught you staring out of the corner of his eye, turning to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, hand falling to your thigh. "You alright, baby?" he asked, giving your thigh a squeeze that caused your breath to hitch ever so slightly. The cheeky grin on his face told you that he knew exactly the effect he was having on you, and he was enjoying it, waiting for the usual nod and tight smile you would give him whenever you started to get worked up when you two were still in public.

Instead, you schooled your features into what you hoped was an unaffected expression, turning to Oscar.

"You look great tonight, Oscar. Is the suit new?" you motioned to his outfit, feeling Lando's hand still on your thigh and reveling in the way his eyes narrowed at you.

"It is, actually! Do you think it looks alright? I only got it back from the tailor's today and I'm worried it's a bit snug." He rolled his shoulders, demonstrating how the fabric pulled taut if he moved too much.

You allowed your eyes to follow the movement, knowing Lando would catch it, before answering, "I think it fits you quite nicely, you've just got such strong shoulders is all."

The comment went right over Oscar's head as he continued talking about the tailor and his woes with formalwear, but judging by the way his grip on your thigh tightened along with the muscle in his jaw, Lando caught it.

Content that you had paid Lando back for his own teasing, the rest of your conversation with Oscar returned to its normal level of innocuousness. Lando rejoined you two after a few minutes, hand relaxing but remaining firmly planted on your thigh as his thumb circled the exposed flesh there. You tried your best not to squirm at his touch, eyes jumping back to the clock on the wall behind Oscar constantly.

Only another forty minutes to go.

You suppressed a groan of frustration, sipping from your glass in a fruitless attempt to cool yourself. Lando's other fingers had slowly joined his thumb, tracing gently and slowly over your inner thigh, which did nothing to ease your growing impatience.

And he knew it, too. Traces of that cheeky grin quirked up at the corners of his mouth, eyes alight with mischief. At this rate, Lando would have you crawling out of your skin by the time you were leaving.

Refusing to let him get anymore of an upper hand against you, your own hand reached up and gently squeezed his bicep, causing him to turn and gently press a kiss to your temple in response, expecting you to keep your hand there as you often did. You caught the surprise in his eyes as your hand instead ghosted down the side of his torso until it met his own thigh, fingertips brushing over his dress pants.

His own fingers stilled in shock, and you capitalized on it, brushing further up his thigh until you landed on the bulge in his pants, keeping your touch featherlight as you traced the outline of his cock through the fabric. His Adam's apple bobbed rapidly, his senses returning to him as his hand tightened fiercely on your thigh, issuing a clear warning to stop, which, naturally, you ignored. You allowed your fingers to apply more pressure, watching Lando's chest rise and fall more harshly in response. Palming him through his dress pants, your palm began to press down onto him, rubbing up and down the quickly hardening length.

Lando's grip on your thigh was joined by a firm one on your wrist, stilling your hands movements as he waited for a lull in his conversation to lean over to you. "Keep your hands to yourself, or I'll tie them up," he whispered, hot breaths landing on the skin of your ear and sending shivers racing down your spine, straight to your core. The hold he had on your thigh had almost turned bruising as he returned your hand to his bicep, patting it twice as if encouraging you to keep it there.

Turning your head to catch him before he could pull away, you just barely brushed your lips against his ear, "Promise?"

The harsh exhale he released told you that he had gotten as worked up as you, excitement building at the thought before it came crashing back down at the sight of the clock.

Thirty five more minutes to go.

As your eyes dropped away from the clock, you caught Lando staring at it too, though he was looking at the clock like it had somehow just insulted him personally.

"Mate, I'm so sorry, but y/n's just told me she has a nasty headache," Lando told Oscar, who looked over to you with concern while you blinked at him, confused. "I think I ought to go ahead and get her home," he finished, fingers tapping on your thigh to signal you to stand with him. Realization dawned on you, though you hoped it didn't show too obviously on your face as you apologized to Oscar, telling him how terribly your head hurt.

"Oh no, please do go ahead and go if your head's hurting so bad, I'll make sure I tell the team goodnight for you both," Oscar offered, genuine sympathy in his voice.

"Thank you, Oscar, you really are the sweetest," you told him as your boyfriend hauled you up and out of your chair, allowing your voice to turn sickeningly sweet at the end, which Oscar yet again seemed not to notice as he waved you both a goodbye. Lando's hand moved to your waist, firmly holding you to his side as he led you out of the restaurant.

"Really?" Lando asked as you waited outside for the valet to return with his McLaren.

"What?" you feigned innocence, enjoying the tick in his jaw as you did so.

"Flirting with my teammate to try to get me worked up? You're lucky Oscar's so oblivious," he muttered, stroking your waist, touch still holding his usual affection despite his aggravated tone.

"Try to get you worked up?" you questioned, turning to stand in front of him, faces close as your hand trailed down his chest, landing once again on his bulge, even more prominent than it had been before. "Feels like it worked pretty well to me." You offered him a devilish grin as he caught your wrist again, stopping you from stroking him any further.

"I'm not telling you to keep your hands to yourself a second time," he ground out, pulling your hand back up to his chest even as his other arm wound around the small of your back.

"Then don't," you whined into his mouth, words taking on a begging tone as you leaned forward to catch his lips, whining even louder when he pulled back. Before you could complain further, he'd turned to take the keys from the valet driver, pressing a tip into the man's hand with a quick thank you and a nod. Stepping to the side as he turned you around, Lando opened the door to his McLaren for you, offering you his hand as you slide in, making sure your feet were all the way in before closing the door wordlessly.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply as he opened the driver's side door, trying to regain what little control you'd just had over the situation. The smell of Lando's cologne hit you, eyes shooting open to find his face inches from yours as one hand reached out to hold your chin, turning you from looking out the windshield to looking directly into his eyes.

"It's usually a ten minute drive home. If you can promise me that you'll behave, I can make it five." His thumb stroked your chin delicately, all traces of his earlier frustration gone, or at least under control for now. "Can you do that for me?"

His eyes bored into yours, beautiful and piercing as always, with an added fierceness that always seemed to follow whenever he took control. The combination of his gaze, his touch, and his proximity caused something in your brain to short circuit, and all you could manage to do was nod, any thoughts of trying to regain power dissolved into that warm feeling you always got with Lando.

At his softly raised eyebrow you realized he was waiting for a verbal answer, your nods insufficient. They always were, but you somehow always managed to forget that the moment you had his hands on you.

"Y-yes. I can do that."

His cheeky grin, more impish now than before, returned.

"Promise?"

a/n: thank you so much for reading! lemme know what y'all think and if anyone wants a second part to this/to be tagged in that if so!

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lunarmoves · 3 months

Text

connected to this drabble!

"that's not sanitary, you know."

you paused, about to take a drink out of your cup of pink lemonade, and glanced up at sun. he watched you from the other side of the security desk, his arms bracing against its lip.

"what is?" you asked in confusion. you looked down at yourself, wondering if there was a stain or something on your uniform, but you were clean.

sun pointed to the cup in your hand, its straw sticking flimsily out of the top cover. "sharing drinks." there was a terseness to his smile despite it being stretched wide across his face in a vain attempt at casualness.

you only shrugged. he'd probably caught you letting the (relatively) new daycare security guard steal a few sips out of your drink before he clocked out for the night. "humans do it all the time, depending. besides, vincent's a friend. i didn't mind sharing with him. he was thirsty."

"that's not the point, friend!" sun exclaimed with a sudden loudness that had you jumping slightly. his pale, white eyes squinted slightly, but not in amusement. "exchanging saliva via straws or other utensils can lead to the transmission of germs and certain dise—"

"whoa, chill, dude! it's not that serious!" you cut off his rant abruptly, waving your free hand in the air. you made a motion to take the straw up in your mouth so you could prove your point, but before you could, sun snatched the cup right out of your hand. you let out an indignant hey! and tried to grab it back from him, but he leaned out of your reach.

"yes it is!" he said stubbornly, his fingers gripping onto the plastic of the cup. his head twitched slightly to the left, rays shifting minutely. "you could get sick! or worse!"

you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. drama queen. you already knew you weren't getting that drink back. "it was only a few sips, man. besides, vincent doesn't have any diseases."

sun's gaze narrowed, his smile thinning. there was an edge to his words you didn't quite like. "you don't know that."

okay, well, he was right, but you weren't going to admit that. you swapped drinks with friends all the time, it was just something natural at that point in your relationship with them. "i don't know why you're getting so worked up over this," you told him irritably. "i'm sure you've seen kids eat each others' foods and drink each others' drinks all the time."

"that's different!" sun replied in a peevish manner.

you gave him a look that indicated you didn't quite believe him. "how is it different?"

at that, he seemed to pause and flounder for words. his arms moved about in the air in a manner that borderlined erratic. "it's— they're not—"

"i'm starting to think this is less about me and more about vincent," you said flatly as you raised an eyebrow at him.

sun recoiled, rays shrinking down slightly before he forced them back out to their normal size. "don't be silly!" he rushed out. "this isn't about—"

"then what is it about, hm?" you asked as gently as you could, which, in retrospect, wasn't all that. it was getting late and you didn't expect to have to deal with this tonight. "you know, i don't think you like vincent all too—"

"i said this isn't about him!" a burst of pink exploded out from sun's grasp, causing a waterfall to splash down on the desk and floor. you jumped at the abruptness of it, your eyes latching onto the tight grip sun had on your drink. his fingers had punctured holes in it, crushing the plastic until it was jagged and flat.

you stared at it for one moment, two moments, then snapped your gaze up to sun's face plate. he was staring directly at you, white pupils tiny and constricted in grey optics. his smile was wide and strained, his fingers twitching minutely at his side.

you swallowed heavily, and in a small, small voice, you said "...sun?"

the word seemed to breathe life back into him. he blinked and darted his gaze down to his hand. "oh!" he jumped slightly and loosened his grip just a tad. "silly me! sometimes i don't realize my own strength!" his body restarted that idle swaying motion it always seemed to have, and you distantly wondered when he had stopped it. "you stay right there friend! i'll get this all cleaned up in a jiffy!"

and then he skittered away, leaving you to stare blankly down at the waterlogged remains of your ruined drink.

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wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

Hii I was wondering if u can make an elijah fluff. Like context hes been married for like 1000+ years and he still gets nervous around reader

Dinner can wait.

{Masterlist}

Elijah is nervous about you returning home after a trip, so he cooks dinner to calm himself.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon ~ I love domestic Elijah, I could write a million stories on this subject ♡♡~

2k words - Warnings: None, just fluff!

Elijah moved with assured grace around the kitchen, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair falling softly across his face as he carefully arranged his ingredients. There was something soothing about cooking, and tonight it was something that he really needed. He glanced up at the clock and sighed, wondering if he had enough time to prepare his special sauce, or if he should just use his normal béarnaise. He decided that he wanted to use the special sauce tonight and reached for a saucepan. As he started to slowly melt his butter, he heard the front door open. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he heard the familiar footsteps of his sister enter the kitchen.

"What's for dinner tonight, brother?" Rebekah asked, opening the fridge and reaching in to grab one of his bottles of wine.

"Coq au vin, but unfortunately, Rebekah, it's for two, not three," he said, looking pointedly at the wine bottle she had taken out.

"That's okay," she replied, "I'll just help myself to your wine."

She winked at him and poured herself a generous glass, then pulled out a chair and sat down at the counter to watch him.

"So she's coming back today?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, adding the chopped onions and mushrooms to the pan. "Her plane arrives at seven thirty."

"Do you need me to pick her up?"

"No, thank you," he said. "I've already arranged a driver."

"And have you thought about how you're going to greet her?"

Elijah frowned at her, not liking the look of amusement on her face. "What do you mean? I'll greet her in the same way I've greeted her for the last ten centuries."

Rebekah laughed and sipped her wine. "I think that's the problem, brother," she teased.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his knife hitting the chopping board with a little more force than necessary.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "Every time your wife returns home after being away for any period of time, you go out of your way to impress her. You cook, you clean, you buy her flowers and gifts, and when you greet her, you are always so polite and gentlemanly, almost as if it's a first date.”

"So?"

"So, Elijah," she said, smiling affectionately at him, "don't you think it's time you stopped trying to impress her and just showed her how much you love her."

Elijah sighed and rubbed his hand across his brow. "I don't think I know any other way," he admitted.

"Then learn another way," she replied, draining her glass and standing up. "I've got a date so I won't be home for dinner, but I expect to see you both tomorrow."

"Fine," he said. "Thank you for your... help."

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed her bag and left.

He watched her go and then looked down at the half-chopped ingredients in front of him. He had always enjoyed cooking for his wife, but this time was different. This time his hands were shaking as he lifted the knife, and his stomach was fluttering.

Why was he nervous? It was his beautiful wife. His sweet and gentle y/n. The love of his long life.

They had been married for one thousand years, but his feelings towards her had never changed. She was still the girl from the village who had captured his heart when they were children. The girl he had courted and then married, and who had stood by his side when he had become a vampire and all the challenges that it had brought. He sighed and started preparing the rest of his ingredients. Maybe Rebekah was right, and it was time for him to try a new approach.

When you stepped out of the airport and took your first breath of fresh air, you felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You were so close to seeing your husband, and it made your heart flutter. You looked around and smiled when you saw a tall man with dark hair and eyes waiting patiently for you, holding a sign with your name on it.

"Hello," you said, "I'm y/n."

"Good evening, ma'am," he said politely. "My name is Joshua, and I will be driving you home tonight."

"Thank you, Joshua," you replied. "Can we get going? I've been away for too long."

"Certainly," he said, picking up your suitcase and walking to the car. He loaded it into the trunk and then held open the door for you.

"Where is Elijah?" you asked, getting in and settling yourself into the leather seat.

"He had a prior engagement tonight," Joshua replied, closing the door and walking around the car to get in the driver's side. "He asked me to let you know he was sorry he couldn't meet you and that he will see you when you get home."

"Oh," you said, trying to mask your disappointment. You knew your husband well, and you were certain he was lying about a prior engagement. It had happened before, and you suspected that he had arranged a welcome home surprise for you. You would have preferred he just picked you up, no surprises necessary; you simply needed his presence.

When you arrived home, there was a light burning in the kitchen, and as the car pulled up, and you opened the door, you could smell the wonderful aromas of your favorite food. Your husband was definitely here. You got out and walked towards the house, smiling at Joshua and thanking him as he carried your suitcase inside and left it at the foot of the stairs.

"Thank you, Joshua," you said, as he turned to leave.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he said, "and have a good night."

"I intend to," you replied, your lips curving into a smile as you turned and walked towards the kitchen.

As you approached the doorway, you could see Elijah's silhouette in the light, his broad shoulders and strong arms moving quickly as he finished off the meal. You paused and leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

You remembered the day you met him, and how shy and reserved he was, how nervous and uncomfortable he was around you. He was always so sweet and shy, unaware of just how beautiful he was. You remembered how his eyes would light up whenever he saw you around the village, sneaking glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. You remembered how happy he was when you had agreed to go for a walk with him. How he would stumble over his words and blush as he told you about his dreams and ambitions. And you remembered the day he kissed you. It was the first time either of you had ever kissed anyone, and he was so unsure of himself, his hands shaking as he held your face and his lips barely touching yours. But his lips were so soft, and the feeling of his warm skin on yours was exhilarating. You remember the day you married him and how proud he was to call you his wife. The way his eyes filled with tears as he kissed you, the way he smiled and held you so tight. His vows still clear in your mind even after a thousand years.

"My dearest wife, I will always be true to you, through everything and no matter what happens. My love will be yours until the end of time. I will always cherish and protect you. You are my everything."

Little did either of you know how long you would keep those vows; immortality had not yet come upon either of you. It was both a blessing and a curse, but with Elijah by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came your way.

You watched him now, still the same beautiful, sweet, and caring man you had fallen in love with. He was the man who had stolen your heart, and he was the one who would forever hold it. He was moving around the kitchen frantically, nervously glancing at the clock every few minutes. He was clearly making sure everything was perfect for your return. You wondered how he didn't hear you come in, but you supposed he was so lost in thought that he couldn't sense anything else. You smiled to yourself, loving him even more.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close. He froze, and you could feel his heart pounding against your cheek.

"Hello, my darling," you said softly, kissing his shoulder blade.

He let out a long sigh and relaxed in your arms, his hands covering yours. "Hello," he whispered.

"Mmm, something smells delicious," you murmured.

"It's coq au vin," he replied.

"My favorite," you said. "I'm impressed, you must have put a lot of effort into tonight's dinner."

"I wanted it to be perfect," he said quietly.

"Why?"

He turned around and placed his hands on your cheeks, stroking his thumbs over your skin, his brown eyes were warm and full of emotion. To you he still looked like a the nervous teenager who gathered all his courage just to talk to you.

"Because," he said softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you again.

His lips were soft and warm, his kiss slow and tender. You felt his hands slide into your hair and tug gently, his tongue slipping between your parted lips.

"Elijah," you murmured.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, kissing his way down your throat.

"Something is burning," you said.

He immediately pulled back, his eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder. The sauce was smoking, and he quickly reached for the pan and removed it from the heat, turning the stove off.

You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"I'm sorry, it's ruined," he said. "I just..."

"It's okay," you said, taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen.

"But what about dinner?" he asked.

"Dinner can wait," you said, "or we can order take-out. All I really want right now is my husband."

You smiled and he grinned back at you, his earlier nervousness forgotten. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

"I love you, my beautiful wife," he whispered, laying you on the bed and climbing on top of you.

"I love you, sweet husband," you replied.

He kissed you again and then proceeded to show you just how much he had missed you.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

Text

cold nights // part two

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: ahhh welcome sejanus i love him dearly

series masterlist // playlist

It was only a few hours of making small talk with Capitol strangers before you caught a glimpse of the red uniform your new friend was wearing just this morning. For a moment, you did think it was him, that he was back, but the dark curly hair and eyes of another boy was what greeted you instead. He must be another mentor.

You watch as he walks up to the edge of the cage with a few bags, placing them down and opening one as he scans the group of you trapped in the cage. "Marcus!" He calls out, and your gaze falls on the District Two tribute. "I brought you something to eat, it's me, Sejanus. Do you remember?"

You furrow your brow at his desperate attempts to speak to Marcus. How could they have known each other? As far as you know, they had never met. You approach the boy slowly. He seems to have a good heart, to bring food for someone who you know he is meant to believe is less than.

"I can bring it to him, if you'd like." You offer quietly, holding out a hand from a little ways away. "We're all very tired. I'm sure he's still just recovering from the ride."

"That would be great." The boy, Sejanus, agrees, handing you the sandwich. "Thank you, Y/N."

"My pleasure." You smile, taking it and heading over to where Marcus is sitting on a rock, facing the opposite direction.

"Marcus?" You hum, crouching down in front of him.

"I'm not taking anything from him." He grumbles, hardly meeting your eye.

"Oh." You look back at Sejanus, who's watching you hopefully. "Do you know each other?"

"Not anymore."

"I see." You nod, thinking over how you could get him to eat. "Well, take it from me, then. I'll just take his kind gesture for myself, but I'll share it with you. Now," You rip the already cut sandwich in half. "It's from me. And I know you're hungry, so please. Have some of mine."

He looks down at the sandwich in your hand and sighs, taking it begrudgingly. "Thanks, Y/N."

"Anytime." You smile, gently patting him on the knee as you stand back up, giving Sejanus a grin and a small thumbs up.

He gestures for you to come back over to him, so you do, half the sandwich still in hand. "Thank you for doing that." He says once you're close enough to hear at a normal volume.

"Yes, of course. I'll give him the rest in a bit, I feel like he won't take it while you're still here." You smile sadly at him.

"No, I insist. You have it. I brought plenty of food for all of you."

"Oh, really?" You smile, looking down at the bags at his feet now. "That's so kind of you."

"I couldn't let you starve in here." He replies. "It's barbaric, and sick, and I am so, so sorry."

His emotional response catches you off guard. "Oh... Well, thank you. But know it was not your doing."

"I know it's not... but I wish there was more I could do."

"You're doing all you can, more than anyone expected of you." You reassure him. "Don't feel guilty."

Sejanus just nods, reaching for a bag and holding it open between the bars. "Would you mind..? I don't think they will trust me." He asks and you nod, turning to see who you could call to come eat. If one person comes, more will follow.

"Jessup." You smile hopefully at the boy from your District, waving him over. "Sejanus here has brought food to share, come eat."

"I'm not hungry." He mumbles as he gets closer to you, looking down into the bag anyway as you reach your hand in to grab him a sandwich.

"Please eat." You sigh. "If we eat the others will too. I don't want anyone hungry."

"We'll all be hungry." Jessup replies, taking the sandwich from your hand anyway. "It won't matter next week."

"Okay, well, for now, we're just living in the moment and enjoying this lovely food our new friend brought for us."

"My Ma made it all." He explains, and you tilt your head at him. There was something so distinctly District about how he referred to his mother, but was he not Capitol? After all, he was a mentor. He was wearing a matching red uniform.

"Will you tell her thank you for us?" You ask, taking the first bite out of the sandwich in your hand. "This is really good. We haven't eaten in days."

"She'll be happy to hear that. Yes, of course, I'll pass that on."

By the time any other tributes who wanted to eat had been fed, you were sitting down across the bars from Sejanus, chewing on your second helping shamelessly leaning over criss-crossed legs. "Do you know Coriolanus Snow?" You asked, covering your mouth as you spoke.

"Coryo?" Sejanus smiles. " I do. He's my best friend."

"Is he?" You smile, leaning forward. "He's my mentor. He seems kind."

Sejanus shrugs. "I would say he is, most of the time."

"And you call him Coryo?" You ask, head tilted at him. "Is that what his friends call him?"

"I guess so. Not everyone... Just his friends, yeah." Sejanus explains, neglecting to mention that by this definition, he and Coriolanus's cousin Tigris are his only real friends.

"I see. That's nice." You hum, looking down at the food in your hands. "How long have you been friends?"

"Since I moved here from Two." Oh, that makes sense. He and Marcus did know each other. "He was the only one who was nice to me, still is, honestly, but yeah, about ten years now."

"I have a similar story about him." You joke. "Of course, I've only known him for a few hours. And I guess now I have two friends here, if I can count you."

"Sure." Sejanus smiles, trying to hide the sadness behind it.

"I mean, don't feel like you have to agree. I know your loyalties lie elsewhere." You catch on to his hesitation, following his gaze over to Marcus. "Besides, I don't hold grudges. Even if I did, I won't be holding it for long now, would I?"

"It's not that." Sejanus quickly shakes his head. "I just... I am one of you. District, I mean. That will never change." He sighs, and you watch as he twists his fingers together nervously. "I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I can't imagine how scared you must be and-"

"That it will never come again. That is what makes life so sweet." You cite, giving him a small smile. "There is nothing that you or I can change now, or then. I am just blessed it was me and not yet my brother. Change will come at the right time. If it's after me, it's after me; I will live forever."

Sejanus opens his mouth to speak, looking slightly dumbfounded before closing his jaw again tightly, giving you a curt nod.

"Don't pity him." You whisper, tucking your knees up to your chest on the cold ground and watching as his eyes fall back onto Marcus. "It will make it only worse."

You rest your chin on the skin of your knees. "I don't- it's not my fault and I know that." He replies.

"I know, Sejanus." You say, smiling in the face of his defensiveness. "Just... Don't let him think that. Which is easier said than done, I know."

"We're supposed to be mentoring you." He says after a moment, back to his normal self, from what you could tell. "Not the other way around."

"You're right. My apologies." You giggle. "Tell me then, how do I win?" You don't truly expect an answer; you don't expect you have any chance of winning. Not without the need enough to kill. It wouldn't be worth it, despite.

"My honest, best advice?" He asks rhetorically, looking around as he leans in to whisper to you. "Figure out a way to escape."

"Sejanus." You don't have the time to process the shock of his suggestion before your conversation is being interrupted by Coriolanus standing behind him, casting a shadow over the two of you. "What are you doing with my tribute?"

"Oh, uh..." Immediately Sejanus becomes shifty at Coriolanus's question. "I brought some food for everyone, and Y/N helped me distribute it. We were just talking."

"Welcome back, Coriolanus. You missed the sandwiches Sejanus brought." You grin, standing up and brushing off the bare backs of your legs.

"That's a shame. Would you come with me?" He asks, motioning for you to follow him along the bars and you nod.

"Thank you, Sejanus." You take a moment to honestly thank him, and he just nods before you follow Coriolanus who has already walked away.

"How was your day? I assume you went to school?" You ask, stopping just in front of him.

"It was... fine, thank you." He clears his throat. "Hard to focus."

"Oh?" You tilt your head as he digs through his bag. "What's bothering you?"

"Well, uh," He pauses, looking up from his bag to meet your eyes. "This mentorship thing is new, and very important, so there's just a lot on my mind."

"There's a prize." You state at the realization, smile fading slightly. You had been so excited that he was so kind to you that you failed to consider the likelihood of an incentive.

"There is." He confirms. "But, whether or not you win doesn't matter. I am here to help you do the best you can, and I do want you to win."

"Oh, I see." You reply hesitantly. Sejanus told you he is kind, so he must be. You have to force yourself to believe he's not just using you. But even if he is, what does it matter? If he's kind to you in your final days, out of honesty or personal gain, will the intentions even matter? You suppose not. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He quickly shakes his head. You had thanked the peacekeepers who had walked you to the stage, you had thanked the village of people who stood there while you said your final goodbyes and did nothing but listen in silence. No one responded. Coriolanus wouldn't be added to a list of people you thank for nothing.

"Sorry." You mumble, looking around behind you now.

"No, I-" He sighs, taking a breath as he rubs his forehead, pushing away his curls and making it easier for you to see his eyes. "I didn't mean that. I just mean... I haven't done anything for you. I want to help, but don't thank me until I have."

"You have." You answer honestly. "I didn't expect to meet anyone so kind... It helps a lot to just know I have one person who's not rooting against me."

"I would never." Coriolanus insists quickly, shaking his head. "I talked to the head gamemaker, she likes my ideas. That's why Sejanus and the others are here. People want to get to know you. It will help."

You're unsure of how that could help you in the arena, you had never seen it before; you tried to avoid watching or viewing anything to do with the games. It scared you. Petrified you, even, you weren't sure what you expected; but it wasn't that you would be able to get any help. You smile anyway, giving him a slight nod as you wrap your arms tightly around yourself. It's not too cold, but you feel exposed. Even the warm July air, when brushing over your uncovered skin could give you chills in these circumstances.

"You just have to talk to people who come to see you, be nice, like you're trying to make friends. We want to humanize you. I may be able to get people to send you gifts in the arena, food and water to keep you going if they like you."

"Okay." You answer quietly. "I've been talking to folks who come, not much else to do in here." You shrug, smiling at him hopefully. You don't want to sound like you're complaining, you're sure complaining about circumstances you can't change will get you nowhere. "The people seem lovely."

"Lovely." He scoffs, shaking his head with a grin of disbelief. "You don't have to lie to me, you know."

"I'm not!" You insist with a slight laugh, looking around. "They just... seem a little scared, for some reason. It seems like they came to stare, not to talk."

"Well, people here don't like people who are different. To them, you're all different."

"And to you?" You ask, tilting your head at him.

The look you give him could make his heart melt. Wide-eyed and kind down to your bones. If he had the power to call off the games, right now as he looked down into your soul, he would do it in a heartbeat. I'm not here to be friends with her. I'm here to win, Coriolanus has to remind himself. "You're different." He replies. "But I think that's a very good thing."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #snow x reader

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spacedace · 5 months

Text

Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.

This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha

---

Well.

Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.

Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.

Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.

She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.

She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.

Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.

It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.

So.

Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.

That was a thing.

A weird thing with some big implications.

D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.

But it was still something.

She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.

“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”

Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.

“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.

It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.

Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.

Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?

He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.

—

Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.

Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.

She was scared now.

Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.

Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.

“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.

“Silence.”

Jon felt cold.

Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.

“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”

Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.

Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”

Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.

“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.

It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.

Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.

“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”

Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.

Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.

Elle was crying now.

He felt sick.

“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”

The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.

Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.

Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.

Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.

It was all wrong.

It was all perfectly fine.

The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”

Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.

Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.

Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.

Everything was perfectly normal.

D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.

He couldn’t remember why he was there.

Everything was fine.

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weasvlys · 4 months

Text

Band Rehearsal

Rodrick Heffley x Y/N (Fem! Reader)

Warnings: Smutty, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, sexual graphic content, explicit language, interrupted sex.

Word count: 1579.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Math..." you said under your breath as you looked for your book in your locker, until suddenly a hand closed it, "ahhg" you gasped, Your gaze immediately settled on the worm-eaten black nail polish, without a doubt, it was Rodrick Heffley, "What is your problem?" You asked him angrily, ever since you entered the band it seemed like he never got tired of bothering you, he had a smile from ear to ear, a bit mischievous, he clumsily put his hand on his head and his elbow on the locker, trying to... flirt?, “Band Rehearsal, at 6, and don’t be late!” he said, emphasizing the last sentence, and vanished.

It was frustrating to be with him, his joking look and his mischievous smile, always feeling his gaze on you, it made your legs tremble, and when he reached his hand a little lower on your back, a little higher on your leg, or he came a little closer than normal, you could feel your heart beating faster, and the most frustrating thing was not knowing if he did it on purpose, to make you nervous and lose focus, or worst, it simply didn't mean anything to him and he did it accidentally.

You arrived at his house, expecting the garage door to be open, however, it wasn't, frustrated you went to the front door, you rang the doorbell twice and waited for the answer from his cheerful mother, who always welcomed you with a kind smile, and regularly a "you look beautiful today", however, you didn't receive that, you heard some heavy and fast feet coming down the stairs and when the door opened you saw an agitated Rodrick, "Hello…" you said in a sigh, you could avoid getting nervous at his look, "Can I come in?" you said in a sigh, you couldn't help but get nervous at his gaze, immediately Rodrick opened the door wider, letting you into his spotless house "It's the kitchen door" he said, referring to where the garage was, as soon as you walked in and saw that, again, you were the first to arrive, "They're late.. again" you said, "Today it's just you and me", Rodrick said, that, for some reason made you feel butterflies "How come?", you ask, and Rodrick gave you a look, confirming your biggest fear, on that occasion, it would be just you and him.

The practice started, you were the vocalist, and just that time you couldn't concentrate, and you couldn't reach any note correctly, so, by the fifth time you stopped Rodrick's rhythm, he got up from his stool so hard that it almost flew away, he threw the drumsticks to the wall in front of you, that genuinely scared you, "What's wrong with you?!" You asked upset, "Y/N, this is the fifth time we do this, can't you concentrate? Y/N?!" he said, putting in front of you, "What's wrong?", his voice was starting to calm down, he looked you in the eyes, that made your voice crack, "I-I don't know..." you said, his eyebrows raised, worried, he bent down a little to be right at your level, "Y/N" he said in a sigh, almost sexual, "What's wrong?", that tender and soft way he spoke to you made you let it all out, "I'm nervous, okay?!" you said, frustrated, "And if we perform in front of an audience, will you still be nervous too?" Rodrick said, "No! I-" you tried to retort, but that one couldn't seem to get out of your throat.

"Look, here's what we'll do" he said as he sat down on the couch in front of you, "I'll sit here, I'll look at you and I need you to forget the nervousness. I won't stop until you do..." those last words seemed to have a different kind of connotation, you decided to ignore him, there was no chance to think what could be inside his mind "One.... Two... Three..." as soon as he finished you started, looking him straight in the eyes, however, by the second verse, his mischievous smile made you lose your concentration again, you suddenly shut up and lowered your gaze, Rodrick snapped his mouth, sighed and said "Have you ever heard of when we are nervous we have to imagine the audience naked?" Those words made you tremble, you nodded your head without saying more, "We'll do that, but literally" his voice became deeper, he got up from the couch, and without taking off his lustful look, he lowered his hands by the edge of his shirt and lifted it, slowly, letting you see his thin, but marked abdomen, that took your breath away "Start again" he said, "Rodrick-" you try to reply "Just do it" he said interrupting you, you rolled your eyes and started again, but after a few seconds, the smile that was forming on his lips weakened you, "Wow, I didn't think it would be that easy", he lowered his hands again, this time to his pants, he placed his slender fingers on the buckle of his belt, he opened it slowly, with a mouth open, his fingers traveled to the button of his jeans, he opened it, and pulled down his pants, revealing his boxer, where you could perfectly appreciate his bulge, big and juicy, bigger than expected.

You could not avoid looking at his crotch and he, looking at your reaction, laughed, "Do you like what you see?", he asked laughing, he knew what he was doing, he sat down again "Start again", he commanded, but the words were not able to come out of your mouth "Do what I tell you to...", that second reply made you feel weaker, you could not resist, and you started to sing, that situation, unusually, made you concentrate a little more, but not quite, you went out of tune again and Rodrick, without saying anything, got up from the couch, came closer to your face, gave a soft and sweet kiss on your cheek, then on your jaw, on your neck, and you couldn't resist moaning, he started to lower his kisses, and when he reached your crotch he knelt in front of you, he put his fingers in the edge of your jeans, unbuttoned them, and started to pull them down, without letting his gaze off, "Keep singing", he said, almost in a whisper, and you followed his order, every note was perfect while you felt his hot breath on your panties, and without further ado, he put his cold fingers on the edge of your panties, and he began to pull them down along with his kisses.

He opened his mouth,letting his tongue out, which made a line right across your entry to your clit, where he dedicated some soft and gentle strokes, not taking his eyes off you for one second, to then the band rehearsal was officially over, and now your mouth only let out pornografic moans, which sounded across the four walls.

He stood up, looking at you to the eyes and said in a deep full of lust voice “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear”, took you by the neck and passionately kissed you, which you replied, you took your hands inside is boxer to found his big hard-rock cock, the moment you touched him he deliciously moaned, like he was dying for it to happen, “Yes~…” he said, he pulled his boxers down and you finally saw hies 9 inch dick bounced out of his jeans, with a red trobbing tip, waiting to be inside you.

“Get in the couch baby, please~…” he said, in such a desperate way, almost begging, you got in four, shaking your ass, waiting for him to enter, he places his tip on your crotch, and even he was desperate for it to happens, he started to torture you, letting it in a bit, your as soon as he did, que took it out, in exasperation, you gasped, “Please Rod… Let me feel you…” you said, you never thought you’d would he saying that, “You wanted in?” He asked, almost growling “yes… please” you responded, “how much?” He replied, letting it a bit more, “Aggh~Fuck… so much” you said, moaning, and with no further action he strucked his 9 inches right inside you, letting the wet noices out, followed by a fast in pain and pleasure “Awwh, you are so wet, and so hot…” he said, so loud that could be heard outside, he late his big cock out again, and stuck you, one more time, allowing him to feel your sweet spot, “Yes Rod!” You screamed, and all of the sudden, key noices started to sound, and the sound of the lock on the front door, “Rodrick?! I’m home!”, Mrs. Jeffrey was home, and with no hesitation you and Rodrick started to get dressed up, as quickly as you could, the steps came closer and door opend in a blink, fortunately, you where already all dressed up, “Oh! Hi hon’, didn’t knew you were home” she said, “where in a rehearsal, mom.” Rodrick said in a shaky nervous voice, “Oh, sure thing, I thing I heard you outside” she said and left the room with no further action, and laughs came out of the both of you, “Next time, we’ll do it in my place”, you said, “Next time?” Rodrick replied in that same teasing way.

#blurb #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #smut #rodrick smut #rodrick x y/n #weasvlys

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antxlss · 5 months

Text

run away

pairing: anakin x princess!reader

summary: anakin, the jedi assigned to protect you, finds you out of your bed in the middle of the night. you both end up confessing some things.

words: 1.2k

warnings: suggestive, lowkey robbed y’all

a/n: just a little something while i continue working on the ‘but, you’re my boss’ series. as always, thank you for reading!

~ maxie <3

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

my masterlist

You had ran away earlier in the night to the library, the most peaceful place in the busy palace. You often spend your nights here. Anakin walked in and saw you dressed in an elegant silk night gown, immediately catching his eye. He had been appointed as your body guard by the Jedi council. Anakin had been fighting a constant internal battle for the past month and a half of his time as your protector. His allegiance to the Jedi code, and his growing fondness and lust towards you, the princess he had been assigned to protect.

"What are you doing out at this hour, your highness? You should be in bed." his eyes narrow, looking you up and down.

"Nighttime is the only time I get peace. No one expects anything from you at 3 in the morning." You laugh and adjust your position on the plush loveseat.

Anakin smiles slightly at your joke, but it drops as quickly as it came.

"You have a responsibility to protect the monarchy. You can't just go wandering about the palace in the middle of the night," Anakin glares at you, but you can't help but notice his eyes glancing slightly downwards as he says that, towards your exposed legs.

You hum. "As I have told you and my entire cabinet over and over, I can take care of myself."

"That's not the point, princess," Anakin's voice is firm, but there is a slight crack of longing in it.

"Your safety is important. If something were to happen to you, your entire kingdom and all of its people would suffer. It's our job to protect you and ensure that doesn't happen." his eyes flutter down to your neck, and then your chest.

You catch his insinuating glances. "I didn't sign up for this job. That's how a monarchy works." You laugh at your own comment. "If I could just run away from this life, I would. In a heartbeat."

Anakin looks up at you with an expression of sympathy, but is quickly ruined by his own lust

"Believe me, your highness, I understand your plight," Anakin reaches out slowly and brushes a strand of hair from your face.

"I'm assigned to protect you, not to keep you trapped here in a cage." He looks down and pauses for a moment.

"What I really want is to take you far away from here in my arms." He finally says, his eyes gazing at yours.

You aren't shocked by Anakin's confession. He had been leaving obvious hints of admiration your way for the entire month and a half he had been assigned to your palace. But you are shocked that you had fallen for him just as he had fallen for you.

"We both live lives that prohibit that from happening Anakin." You whisper.

Anakin moves in closer and gently traces your hair with his fingers.

"Princess, with all due respect, I don't think anything could stop me from being with you." He leans in slightly, and whispers in your ear, "I want to take you away from this place, make you mine, love you and take care of you forever."

"I want you to be mine," His eyes fill with longing, as he gazes at you.

"Let's run away. Far from here. We can settle on a planet where no one will ever find us. We can build a house, have children. We can live the life we never thought we could ever have." You ramble.

You are getting away from yourself. You have always longed for a different life. A normal life.

Anakin smiles warmly and places his hand gently on your cheek.

"Let's run away princess," Anakin whispers. "Just you and me. I don't care about my duty, or the monarchy, or anything like that. I just want to be with you."

Anakin lowers his head slightly until your noses are touching. "And I want you to be all mine."

Anakin's hand comes up to cup your face.

"I want to be yours." You lean into his touch.

His grasp on the side of your face pulls you towards him. Your lips touch.

Anakin's hand traces your features gently as his lips meet your own.

He cups the back of your head and pulls you closer, his touch growing stronger and more passionate by the second. He grips tightly just behind your head, and brings his lips down on yours.

His breath is warm and his touch is firm, sending pleasure through every nerve in your body.

You finally pull away. Your foreheads still touching.

Anakin stares passionately into your eyes, his hand still resting gently on your cheek.

"Let's go, princess." He whispers. "Let's run so far away from this place. Live someplace else, be someone else. We can have whatever we want."

He leans in and softly kisses you again.

"Please princess, I know this is what you want. We don't need anyone else."

"Okay." You hum.

Anakin smiles as he pulls away.

"Let's just get out of here, together."

His eyes light up with excitement as he leans in to kiss your neck.

"We can go anywhere you'd like, be anything you want."

His lips trail down your neck, his touch becoming more aggressive with each passing second.

You let out a gasp of pleasure. You hands tangle in the soft curls that grow at the nape of Anakin's neck.

"We will leave tomorrow night. We can pack everything tomorrow day." You almost moan as you unconsciously grind down on Anakin.

Anakin shudders, as you grind down on him, and he wraps his arms around you firmly.

"Yes, princess," he whispers. "I just need you. We don't need anything else. Just us."

He begins to undo your dress, pushing the material down to reveal your soft thighs.

You allow Anakin to run his large, rough hands over the fat of your thighs. The contrast between your soft skin and his calloused fingers send shivers down your spine.

Anakin looks at your thighs, his eyes filled with fire as his fingers continue their journey down your thighs.

"Princess," he whispers, "this is so wrong. We're not supposed to be doing this."

He looks at you with longing, and then back at you body, his eyes filled with lust.

"But I just need you, your highness. Your body, your touch...I need it right now."

His fingers continue to slide up and down your thighs, his breathing becoming faster and more intense by the second.

"By this time tomorrow it won't even matter. We will be long gone. I won't be a princess, you won't be a Jedi. We will just be Anakin and Y/N." You assure him. "So please, make me yours. I need you. All of you."

Anakin shivers as you speak to him, your words sending pleasure through his body and his eyes filled with lust.

"Yes princess," he whispers. "Yes. I'm yours, all of me."

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you aggressively once more, grabbing your thighs and pulling them tighter to him.

His breath is warm on your face, and as his lips meet your own his body presses down on yours.

This kiss this time is more rough. You are both filled with lust for each other. Filled with hate for the lifestyles you were forced into. But with each other, it doesn't matter.

You reached for Anakin's shoulders and quickly began to remove the pesky layers of his robes.

Anakin shudders as you remove his robes, his body tingling with pleasure as he removes his shirt quickly, revealing his muscular chest.

He glances towards the door, where guards would typically be stationed, and then his eyes meet yours.

"Now and forever," he whispers, staring at you with longing and lust in his eyes. "Nothing else matters. Only you."

#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker imagine #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen

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neptuneiris · 3 months

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (04/10)

The Evolution

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the time comes for you to step out of your comfort zone a bit, so the party begins and you and Aemond must pretend in a new environment.

word count: 7.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

new chapter!🥳

before you start reading, I want to thank you for all the support I've received with this fic, it's the best and it means a lot to me that you're liking it so much🥺 there's still a lot to come and I can't wait for you to join me in the future chapters, so look forward to it!❤

and now yes, read and enjoy!

warnings: smoking, mention of weed, alcohol.

It's not like you're an alien, you've been to parties before, it's just not your favorite way to have fun.

And as you enter the huge house with DJ, colored lights pointing in all directions, beer pong tables, people dancing in the middle of it all with the music blasting in your ears and the smell of beer in the air, along with cigarettes and weed, you don't let go of Aemond's hand at any moment.

Fortunately not everyone notices you when you enter the house together, mostly because everyone is immersed in the big party, but some heads do turn to look at you and Aemond.

And together, you walk through all the bodies moving to the rhythm of the music, where Aemond has the purpose of looking for a less overwhelming place for you.

He skillfully guides you through the whole place, greeting some guys he meets on the way and congratulating him for tonight's victory, without him letting go of your hand for a second.

Until they finally find a less crowded and a little quieter corner on the back terrace, having in view the kitchen of the house where there are people smoking and drinking and in the background are all the people dancing.

Although the music is still blaring in the background, at least you can talk to Aemond without having to yell and he will hear you. And when you lean against the railing of the terrace, he looks at you with a knowing smile while you try to adapt to the environment.

"You don't really like this, do you?" he says, knowing the answer before you can say anything.

"Do I show it a lot?" you say, letting out a nervous laugh, "And I don't dislike it," you clarify, "It's just not my favorite place to be."

He nods sympathetically.

"I know, but we won't stay long, I promise," he assures you, "Do you want something to drink? A soda or water?"

You smile as you lower your gaze, a little shyly.

"Actually... I think I can handle a beer. It's a party after all."

You don't normally drink alcohol but considering you're at a party, you don't want to look like a party pooper. And you're sure that if you don't relax a little, you'll never make it through the night.

"Are you sure?" he watches you completely attentively, "If you don't want to—

"I'm sure, don't worry," you say, nodding.

"Good," he smiles softly at you, "I'll be right here," he points to the kitchen in front of you, serious and wanting to make it clear, "I'm not going anywhere else and I'll be back very soon."

You let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I know. Now go," you nod to him, smiling.

Aemond nods and walks away towards the kitchen, leaving you momentarily alone but not quite, as you can see him from where you are, moving back and forth with the two plastic cups. And then you focus around you, watching people dancing, laughing and playing party games.

The smell of cigarettes and weed reaches your nostrils, but you don't take much notice, as Aemond's company makes it all seem more bearable.

The music continues to echo in the atmosphere and after a few seconds, Aemond returns with the two cups in both hands, offering you your beer and you accept it with a grateful expression.

"Thank you," you say, feeling more relaxed to have him by your side again.

"I really didn't expect you to be up for a beer," he tells you with a playful smile.

"Please, it's just a beer," you reply with a laugh, taking a small sip.

"Careful or you might become the queen of the party."

"Don't overdo it," you tell him, laughing. "And what are you drinking?" you observe him curiously.

"Just beer," he says with a shrug, "But I drive, remember? So this will be the first and last of the night."

Aemond raises his cup in a casual toast in your direction, you smile and clink your cup lightly with his, then both of you drink in sync.

"Hey, what do you say we take a selfie?" he says animatedly, grabbing his phone, flipping open the camera, "I want to get a picture of you with my initials on your cheeks."

"As long as you don't put it as your wallpaper, it's fine," you joke.

"That's exactly what I want it for. Now smile."

That's what you do, you place your face close to his and you both smile. He takes a few more, where you make funny faces and also where he insists that you give him a kiss on his cheek, taking the selfie.

He then also insists that they take pictures from your phone as well, reminding you that you have to post them to your Instagram later and you rolling your eyes amusedly nod.

And once that's enough, Aemond looks at the photos with satisfaction.

"I'll definitely set this one as my wallpaper."

"Which one?" you ask him curiously.

He smiles and proudly shows you his screen, which features the picture of you with his initials painted on both of your cheeks, smiling and with the colored party lights uniquely illuminating your face.

"I look like an idiot," you say slightly embarrassed.

"A pretty idiot."

He says back, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, careful not to ruin his initials.

"Now, what's your background going to be?" he asks you intently, watching your phone screen.

"Hum," you also focus on your screen, looking at the selfies, "This one."

You point to the picture of you kissing his cheek and he nods with his little grin. He is about to speak when a third voice makes itself heard between the two of you.

"Aemond!" exclaims Aegon, heading towards you both from a distance with a huge grin and a drink in hand, with Helaena behind him, "There's the star of the night!"

Aemond suddenly tenses up and indeed so do you. You both exchange a quick, discreet glance, where he warns you and gives you a reassuring look at the same time.

And you mentally prepare yourself to pretend and look as in love with him as possible, telling yourself that you can't fuck this up.

"Congratulations, brother!" exclaims Aegon happily, coming towards you both and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "You kicked all those fucker's' asses," he says proudly, then focusing on you, "And you must be Y/N," he adds, grinning at you.

"Hi," you smile, trying to look relaxed and not at all nervous at the sudden appearance of Aemond's siblings.

"I'm Aegon, the older brother who always leaves everyone impressed, the most handsome and intelligent of the family. Pleasure," he introduces himself, extending his hand to you and you shake it almost instantly, laughing softly.

"So he says," Aemond says next to you with an amused smile.

"A pleasure."

"He's just envious and he's already told us so much about you," he lets you know, "Oh and this is our sister, Helaena," he points behind him.

"Hi," you smile at her too.

"Hi, I finally meet you!" she says with a smile bigger than yours, extending her hand in a friendly gesture, "And honestly the handsomest of my brothers is Daeron and the smart one in the family is me."

"See?" points out Aegon to Helaena seriously and incredulously, "Another envious one."

But Helaena pays him no attention and continues to focus on you.

After the introductions, you continue talking to them, who show great interest in getting to know you without losing their friendly and playful touch towards you, they ask you questions and share some comical stories about Aemond, where the conversation flows easily, wich surprises you.

But that's exactly what makes them create a relaxed and fun atmosphere for you, making the party more bearable. Besides Aegon is extremely funny and Helaena conveys a calmness to you that totally goes with your personality, pleasing you.

"I'm excited to have someone new in the family," she says excitedly, "And if you want, we can sit together sometimes on break," she offers, getting your attention more, "I've sat with Aemond and his friends before and I know what it's like, they're frustrating."

"Hey," Aemond reproaches her hurt.

"Am I wrong?" Helaena observes you expectantly.

"Hum," you look at Aemond and then back at his sister, a little nervously, "They are frustrating but fun."

"Want one?" says Aegon to Aemond, offering him a cigarette.

"Sure."

"But yes, sure, we can eat together, I'd love to," you smile at Hel, honest.

"Great."

Aemond lights his cigarette and lets the smoke escape between his lips, then places his other arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him confidently, wanting to clearly demonstrate his supposed connection to you.

When suddenly, Aegon takes his leave, watching a group of girls walking past you with great interest.

"I'm going to get something to drink, see you in a bit," he says without even looking at you, already walking away, following the girls and disappearing into the crowd.

Aemond and Helaena roll their eyes before sharing a knowing look between them, this being so typical of Aegon, then she too takes her leave for the moment with a smile.

"I think I'll leave you two alone for now too," she says starting to walk away, "Have fun!" she exclaims before getting lost in the crowd just like Aegon.

And once you and Aemond are alone again, you both can finally relax.

"They loved you," he tells you with a small smile, taking a puff on his cigarette, "You did very well."

"Not that they were hard to be with, but now we can relax a little more," you say with a soft smile, "I really liked them. They're very nice.

Aemond nods, agreeing.

"Aegon is a idiot. He loves to have fun and all he cares about is girls, but he's still funny," you nod, "And Hel, well, sometimes she's weird... but she's really sweet and fun too."

"Yeah, I noticed," you say nodding, "And do you have another brother? Daeron?" you ask, remembering how Helaena mentioned him.

"Ah yes, he's the youngest of all," he tells you and you listen carefully, still feeling his hand around your waist, "He's at Honeyholt on exchange in high school. All of a sudden he had the idea of wanting to see another place and Mom supported him. We have family there, so they are taking care of him until he gets into college."

"Oh," you nod, now understanding, "And is he really the best looking of the three of you?" you ask amused and he smiles.

"Of course not, obviously I'm the handsomest," he says condescendingly, smugly and you laugh, "I also have a half-sister, Rhaenyra," he adds, "But she's older than all of us. She's already married, with children and focused on her own family."

You nod again, attentive and interested, keeping that information, since you had no idea.

In fact about the families is something you haven't talked to him about, well, except that you know Aegon and Helaena, but you don't know anything else like for example his father and mother.

And he doesn't know anything about yours either. You suppose it's just a matter of time to build more trust between the two of you as this goes on.

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?" he asks you curiously, watching you intently and you shake your head.

"I'm an only child."

He is about to speak when, again, a third voice interrupts him.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and see one of his lacrosse friends calling from the kitchen.

"Want to play beer pong with us?"

Aemond doesn't answer him right away, as he turns his attention back to you.

"Do you want to play or do you want to talk about it?"

"Hum... the truth is I've never played beer pong," you say a little nervous and embarrassed, "And I don't want to talk about it."

"Then I'll teach you, come on, it's really easy," he says excitedly, taking you by the hand, "It'll be fun, you'll see," he tells you as he guides you towards the kitchen.

You let him guide you, and you too enter the lively atmosphere of the kitchen, where the sound of music and laughter mixes with the aroma of drinks and cigarettes. And Aemond leads you towards the beer pong table where his friends you already know are, setting everything up.

"First, you need a ball."

Aemond says, taking one from the pile on the table and placing it in your hand. And before he can speak further, you do.

"Actually I do know how to play but I've never played," you clarify, "Besides, I have really bad aim."

"No matter, just have fun," he tells you with a reassuring gaze, "And forget about everyone, the stares, the talking, Alys, everything. Let's just have a good time, okay?"

You nod, watching him a little nervously but attentively and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, making you feel a strange sensation in your body that you haven't felt before.

But you know that he has done it because you are now among his friends and other people at school, so you have to pretend very well.

Music blares in the kitchen as you and Aemond join the beer pong game and take up position at one end of the table, facing your first opponent.

Aemond still repeats the rules to you once again, but his focus is more on enjoying the moment.

You hold the ball in your hands with a mixture of nervousness, not knowing exactly why, and excitement. And Aemond next to you gives you an encouraging look.

And finally you throw the ball and to your surprise, and also delight, it lands perfectly in one of the cups on the other side of the table.

"Yes!" exclaims Aemond excitedly, with a huge smile, instantly making a high five with you, being his turn.

This definitely makes you feel more relaxed and encourages you to forget about everyone and focus on this moment with Aemond, immersing yourself in these party games you've never tried before.

Aemond continues to hug you and celebrate each successful release, accentuating your complicity so you both keep pretending. That moment of the night progresses with laughter, exchange of complicit glances and impromptu pretending moments.

And every time you suddenly feel Aemond's hands on your waist hugging you and pulling you closer to him, it makes you feel strange and weird sensations through your body, which you try not to give much importance to.

Both Aemond and you immerse yourself in the illusion of the fake relationship, taking every opportunity to enjoy each other's company.

The party continues and as you share laughter and affectionate gestures in the midst of it all, you realize that although the relationship is fake, the connection you now have with Aemond and the fun you share is real.

And when the round of beer pong is over, Aemond introduces you to more of his friends, like Qyle Martell and Cregan Stark. Martell is like Aegon, you can tell and Stark is friendlier and also very nice.

"Are you friends with Alysanne?"

He asks you curiously in the middle of the conversation, as Aemond has one arm around your waist, leaning against the kitchen island, his other hand smoking a new cigarette and you find yourself in the middle of his legs, your hands on top of his arm and hand.

"Yes," you nod to him, "We recently became close."

"I assumed so because I saw her at the game with you," he tells you with a small smile, "But, do you know if she has a boyfriend?" he asks you more curious than before, getting your attention.

You're about to speak when Aemond steps forward.

"Cregan has had a crush on her forever," he says over your head and you turn your attention back to Cregan.

"Well, she hasn't," you let him know, "She told me she recently broke up with a guy from another school."

"Really?" he looks at you hopefully, "And could you talk to her about me? You know, see what she thinks."

You smile, nodding.

"Sure."

"I wouldn't ask you but I thought she was coming to the party."

"Oh no, no, it's fine," you assure him, "I'll talk to her."

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Aemond announces suddenly, catching your attention.

He gently removes you from between his legs, standing up straight and leaving the rest of his now non-existent cigarette on the kitchen island, then watching you completely attentively.

"You can stay and talk to Cregan. I'll be back soon."

"Sure," you nod to him.

Aemond wanders off towards the second floor bathroom, already knowing that the bathroom down here always has huge lines for wanting to get in, and so you stand around talking animatedly with Cregan, mostly about Alysanne.

As Aemond slips through the crowd, up the stairs and disappears down the second floor hallway, heading for the bathroom.

Actually he doesn't take long at all and soon enough he finishes washing his hands and exits the bathroom, walking back down the hallway to return to the big party downstairs.

But just as he turns down the hallway, Alys appears in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

Aemond watches her without expression really, feeling a little surprised inside, but only ignores her and tries to walk past her, but of course, Alys immediately blocks his path.

He watches her confused and she places a small grin on her perfectly painted red lips.

"What?" he asks her, disinterested.

"Can't I talk to you? Your girlfriend already so soon set rules for you?" she inquires him too, with a look of superiority, crossing her arms.

He certainly decides to ignore most of her comment and looks at her seriously.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Once again he tries to walk past her but she blocks his path again, irritating him and making him let out a sigh.

"What do you want?" he watches her in exasperation.

"Y/N? Really?" she inquires again pouting and with disdain, making Aemond again let out another sigh, "She's your new girlfriend?"

"Yes, she is," he tells her seriously and firmly, "Do you have a problem with that?

"At least you could be able to get something halfway better than that," she says with a mixture of mockery and seriousness, "I can't believe you dated me and now you're dating her, literally a nobody," she says confused, furrowing her brow.

Aemond frowns, definitely starting to get annoyed by her attitude and the way she's talking about you.

"First, it's none of your business who I'm dating now nor do you even have the right to reproach me for that. And second, Y/N is not a 'nothing.' She is an amazing person and I will not allow you to speak of her like that."

Alys further demonstrates her mockery.

"She's amazing?" she repeats, "Please, no one here even knew her from before she started dating you. She's just another one of those pathetic boring girls who sits in the background and can't say more than three words."

Aemond clenches his jaw, watching her seriously and sternly.

"Watch your mouth."

"Or what?" she teases him, watching him defiantly, "Am I telling lies?"

"Stop talking about her like that," he warns her with determination, "And before you judge her, first see yourself in a mirror, maybe you can fully surprise yourself."

She lets out a cynical laugh.

"Oh, look at you," she coos, "You have become the advocate for shy and invisible girls. No one would have expected it from you, not even me. But I'm sure you're only dating her to annoy me."

Aemond takes a deep breath, having enough of this.

"What I do or don't do doesn't matter to you. And don't get ideas in your head either, you're the last thing on my mind. Don't think you're important, because you're not," he tells her seriously and honestly, "Now, if you don't have anything important to say to me, leave me alone and let me enjoy the night."

Alys grits her teeth, obviously frustrated at not getting the reaction she was looking for from him. And finally Aemond is able to walk past her, away from her. But before he turns and starts down the stairs, Alys stops him with her next words.

"We'll see if the shy girl still likes you that much when you see if she can fuck you well, which I doubt," she says seriously and teasingly.

Aemond purses his lips, taking a deep breath to try to keep his composure. He feels a knot in his stomach, with a mixture of disgust and frustration throughout his body.

"You're completely insane, Alys, insane."

He spits the words at her completely seriously and finally walks away from her, leaving that unpleasant conversation behind.

As he returns to the bustle of the party, he struggles to clear his mind of Alys' words, which are still present and the unpleasant feeling still lingers. And it makes him angry to know that he allowed her to manage to ruin the party for him.

Finally he enters the kitchen and you are still there, talking to Cregan and before heading towards you, he tries to put on his best possible face so that his annoyance and bitterness is not noticeable.

And after a few seconds he turns to you.

"Hey," he says with a forced smile, placing himself back next to you.

Your smile fades a little and this immediately catches your attention.

Fortunately at that moment Cregan leaves you both alone, saying he'll fix himself a new drink, so you give him your full attention, noticing the seriousness on his face that he's trying to hide.

"Everything okay?" you ask him, slightly concerned.

"Yeah," he says softly, taking your hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

"Are you sure?" you ask him, not entirely convinced, "Did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm just a little tired," he lies, "Maybe in a little longer we should go."

Aemond, despite the feeling in him that still lingers, feels that he shouldn't overwhelm you with what happened with Alys. Being here, in the middle of the party with everyone watching them, is enough for you.

He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable when everything has been going too well so far.

"Sure but... are you sure you're okay?" you insist in a soft voice, running your hand gently across his forehead, gently brushing his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry," he smiles softly at you.

He holds you against his body, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you between his body, while you look around and realize that there are still, at this point in the party, people watching you.

When then Aemond's gaze falls on all the people dancing, an idea crosses his mind.

He puts on a small amused smile and lowers his face to look you in the eyes, tracing gentle circles with his thumb on your lower back.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asks you with his smile, instantly catching your attention.

You watch him with your eyes slightly wide open and your lips parted, but not because of surprise, but because you were dreading exactly this proposal.

He points with his gaze to where everyone is dancing and you follow, seeing how there are some girls dancing alone and shaking their butts in a fantastic way, there are also couples dancing together and people in groups dancing and singing along to the songs of the moment without a care in the world.

But that's not what catches your attention.

It's the way some girls, not to say most of them, dance in a sensual, sexy way, moving their body and waist in a magnetic way, also their buttocks as if it was as easy as breathing, attracting the attention of boys and girls.

There is no way you can move your butt and body like that. You would like to, but you don't know how.

There are also couples who dance very close to each other, in a very intimate way, chest to chest. Even the guy runs his hands all over the girl's body while they dance to the music and touches her butt in front of everyone.

And that definitely horrifies you.

You know Aemond would never try to touch you like that. Doing something like that didn't enter into any part of the contract.

But you still grimace involuntarily and feel embarrassed. You immediately turn your gaze to Aemond and with a flash of sincerity, you confess.

"I don't know how to do it," you say in complete embarrassment.

You think he's going to make fun of you and you're only going to feel more embarrassed than you already are, but instead, he smiles at you with understanding gently and begins to try to convince you enthusiastically.

"Come on, don't worry about anything, it's easy," he assures you, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

He takes you by the hand gently and guides you towards the center of the house, where everyone is dancing and music is enveloping everything.

Your heart starts pounding, feeling nervous, but you still follow with a certain heaviness.

The music, the colors of the lights and the energy of all these people become a kind of bubble around you. And as you walk, you feel the gaze of some people on you, but Aemond deliberately ignores them, focused on making you feel comfortable.

And once you're both in the center of it all, surrounded by more people, you watch him with some trepidation but he confidently places his arms around your waist, hugging you but leaning back slightly so he can look you in the eye.

"Is this okay or are you uncomfortable?" he asks you attentively leaning down to speak in your ear so you can hear him over the music.

"It's fine," you nod to him, but you lick your lips and really don't even know what to do with yourself.

He glues your body to his, still watching you intently, mostly because his lips brush against the bridge of your nose and it sends an electric current inexplicably through you.

And you feel like your heart will leap out of your chest at any moment from such closeness.

"And this is okay?"

You swallow hard and nod, unable to speak for all the sensations overwhelming you in that instant.

"Now you put your hands around my neck," he tells you as he takes your hands and places them himself where he directs you, then puts his hands back on your waist.

Again you bite your lips, while avoiding looking him too much in the eye, nervous and still not having the slightest idea what to do, but you stay like that, already feeling more the sorrow that maybe he can feel your accelerated heart rate.

"And now we dance, no choreography or specific moves... we just move," he says in your ear softly but loud enough for you to hear.

And just then you turn your attention to the song; One Of The Girls by Lily-Rose Deep, Jennie and The Weeknd.

Oh Gods.

"It's very simple, just sway your hips back and forth to the beat of the song."

You avert your gaze, feeling the awkwardness grow inside you, because you really don't know how to do this. Yet you force yourself to stay in the moment and do this, because it's no big deal, it's just dancing.

"Like this," he says, moving your hips with his hands gently from side to side, guiding your movements patiently, just as he moves his body slowly in sync with yours.

The song swells loudly in the background, creating an intimate atmosphere between him and you. And carefully, you begin to follow the rhythm, letting your hips sway to the music.

And honestly... you just get uncomfortable and barely more so, feeling completely awkward.

"Am I doing this right?" you ask fearfully, already knowing the answer.

"Easy, you're doing excellent," he assures you, "Just let yourself go," he says in your ear, his voice soft and encouraging.

Hearing his comforting words, you strain to relax, letting the melody envelop your senses, as Aemond looks at you with a reassuring smile, encouraging you.

And with his confidence and also his comforting presence, he makes you start to forget about everyone around you and focus on this moment, on him.

And with every movement you let yourself go with the rhythm of the music, as you both move in sync and the tension you felt before seems to dissipate with every second. Especially since some funny gestures from him during the dance make you relax more.

"See? It's not hard."

He tells you as he makes you both move with more rhythm, keeping his hand on your waist and the other on your lower back, not going any further, where every movement makes your body rub against his.

"You're even better at this than me," he mentions amused and you laugh softly.

"Don't be a liar," you tell him watching intently between your body and his, afraid of getting it wrong and missing a beat.

He maintains his grin and your eyes meet his, sharing complicity and amusement. And he encouraging you to let loose even more.

And only then do you start to really enjoy the dance, because you realize that you're probably not the only one who feels a little out of place, besides no one is even paying attention to you.

All the people here are enjoying the music in their own ways. So with each step, you become more immersed in the moment, forgetting the stares of others and remembering that you're also pretending with Aemond, so you stick a little more towards him, if possible.

"Yes, just like that," he says in your ear, his voice soft and soothing, "Alys is watching us."

He says as he glances out of the corner of his eye toward the entrance to the kitchen, where Alys is leaning against the wall.

And you discreetly look around for her, finding her and seeing the surprise and disbelief in her gaze as she watches the two of you, pursing her lips, looking clearly annoyed and even... indignant.

Immediately the look on Alys' face makes you feel uncomfortable and embarrassed, but you decide that won't distract you and don't pay too much attention to her, preferring to focus on the moment.

With each movement, you feel more in tune with the music and with Aemond next to you, who brings his forehead together with yours, sharing a moment of complicity as they continue to move to the rhythm of the music.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He says suddenly and you instantly feel tense and nervous again. But you understand why he wants to do it, clearly because she's watching right now.

"Okay," you say swallowing hard, having no idea if he even heard you over the music.

When he separates a little, just a little from you, still keeping one of his hands on your waist while with the other he gently places it on your right cheek, sliding his fingers across your soft skin.

Your gaze meets his, where there is a new lightness of silent complicity but in a more intense way that you can't quite describe.

His gaze is totally determined and even makes you feel nervous immediately, where not only his eye inspects your face, but also your parted lips just centimeters below his, this drawing more than anything else his attention.

This does not go unnoticed by you and you feel more nerves in your stomach, but when he leans forward, closing the short distance between the two of you, you tell yourself that you must be pretending just as well as he is.

You both close your eyes and the brushing of lips is soft and hesitant, where a barely audible sigh escapes your lips as you too let the overwhelming feeling of having to kiss Aemond in front of all these people.

The sound of your heartbeat echoes in your ears as his lips finally catch yours in a soft kiss.

You think it will be like the first time, just the contact of lips against lips, but Aemond literally moves his mouth, really starts kissing you, caressing his lips with yours... and you unexpectedly and instantly follow him.

Surprised and completely unsure, you feel Aemond take a firmer hold of your waist and deepen the kiss, while you try not to gasp into his lips and let yourself be carried along by his movements.

For you, each movement of his lips is like a new melody, awakening a surge of emotions that take your breath away.

This is completely new to you.

It is completely different from the first time you both kissed.

Your hands instinctively cling to his shoulders, seeking support amidst the whirlwind of sensations that engulf you, unable to help but feel a pang of surprise as you feel the softness of his lips against yours.

And though you are both pretending, both you and he let your own emotions mix with it.

Aemond continues to tenderly caress your soft skin with his thumb as he tilts his head and latches onto your lips once more, slow and deep, letting you feel everything.

His hand slides deftly down your neck and tangles in your hair, drawing you closer to him in an intimate, passionate gesture. And though you can't help it, everything about him envelops you.

You feel every detail, his comforting closeness, the smell of his cologne, so manly, the cigarette taste in his mouth that somehow you don't dislike at all and the way he is holding you against his body.

And finally when you are both out of breath, you separate and silence fills the space between you, broken only by the distant sound of music and the racing beat of your hearts.

Your gaze again meets his and strangely you find yourself lost in him, with an unspoken question hanging in the air as you both process what has just happened.

When he smiles softly, as if he is complicit in a secret shared between the two of you, which he is and leaves another soft kiss on your lips before continuing to dance with you, wrapping his arms around you confidently and firmly.

You again let yourself be carried away by the music, wrapping your arms around his neck again, with a question in mind:

What the fuck just happened?

Then, in the middle of the dance, Aemond again whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I think that went very well," he murmurs knowingly, "Alys keeps looking at us."

And then reality comes back into your mind.

Oh... right.

Reality comes back to you like a sudden blow, reminding you of Alys' presence and why you made out with Aemond like that, leaving the magic or spell of the moment.

You try to keep your composure, as if the kiss hadn't affected you in the slightest, but deep inside you know that's not true.

You try in vain to ignore the feeling of discomfort and surprise that creeps up inside you as you continue to dance with Aemond. Each movement seems stiffer, the music sounds louder and the weight of the kiss suddenly weighs on your shoulders.

Although you try to maintain the appearance of normalcy, Aemond seems to notice your change in attitude and looks at you intently, his brow slightly furrowed.

And despite your attempt to keep your face serene and completely unconcerned, he can still see the tension building up in your expression.

So finally, Aemond breaks the silence that hangs in the tension-laden air.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The question instantly catches your attention, but first you focus entirely on him.

"Don't you want to stay a while longer?"

"We've done enough and besides... I'd like to go get some rest."

"Okay, yeah, sure," you say in a soft voice, starting to pull away from him.

Aemond offers you a comforting smile before taking you by the hand and leading you towards the door, but not before saying goodbye to his friends and warning his siblings, who he asks if they will go home with him, but Aegon is still enjoying himself and so is Helaena.

The cool night air envelops you as you leave the house, bringing with it a feeling of relief and release. And as you walk away along with Aemond, you feel the tension slowly dissipate, giving way to a feeling of peace and tranquility.

But there is still that uneasiness and uncertainty within you.

The sunlight enters through the kitchen windows, while you finish placing your breakfast on the table and your father's too, starting a new week.

Normally on Mondays your father comes in a little later to work and taking advantage of his free time, he always drives you to school, so early in the morning you text Aemond that you don't need him to pick you up and that you'll see him at school.

At first you and your father talk about anything between scrambled eggs and sips of coffee, when suddenly the conversation takes a serious turn when your father mentions college, your future.

"Have you applied for college entrance exams yet?" he asks you, with a look of slight concern on his face, "I understand the application season is almost over."

Instantly you feel a knot in your stomach and involuntarily tense up, nervous.

"Yes, Dad," you reply in your slightly shaky voice, trying to hide it," I already have."

"Very good," he nods at you with a small smile, "Just make sure you're aware of all the deadlines and requirements. This is important and who knows...maybe you can get into Oldtown."

God.

This makes you even more nervous, but you tell yourself that you trust Aemond completely and that he is handling your direct application to Oldtown.

You haven't talked to him about it but that's what he's surely been doing, he has to. He promised to deliver on this if you fulfill your role as a girlfriend in love so he must already be doing it.

So you feel confident that everything will work out.

Again you nod in your father's direction and both of you resume breakfast, while you think that you have Aemond totally on your side in this.

Breakfast doesn't last any longer and soon your father is already dropping you off at the school parking lot. You kiss each other on the cheek, wish each other good day and finally get out of the car.

Both the hallways and the parking lot are flooded with students as you try to weave your way through them to get to your locker, hoping to run into Alysanne soon.

But instead you see Aemond who is engaged in a lively conversation with his friends at the lockers. And you don't know exactly why but seeing him immediately makes your nerves explode.

Since that kiss on Friday, neither you nor he has talked about it. He only drove you home after the party was over for him and you, where neither of you made a comment about it.

And honestly... you still feel a little weird about it.

You mean, you've never made out with him like that before, or with anyone else. And that's why you haven't stopped thinking about it, but you don't want to talk about it either, you feel it will be awkward.

And you don't need to turn to him and talk to him for him to notice you, as unconsciously his gaze meets yours as he laughs at a comment from one of his friends.

And he instantly says goodbye to his friends to head towards you with a small grin on his lips, which you return to him from a distance, until you both close the distance.

"Hi."

"Hey," he says to then unexpectedly drop a soft, quick kiss on your lips.

You remain static for a moment, as you're never really going to get used to this.

"Everyone's watching us," he says quietly to you in a discreet manner as he places one of his arms around your shoulder and begins to walk together with you down the hallway, "So, your dad drove you today?"

You nod as you both walk down the hallway together, where admittedly, you notice how some people are still watching you as you pass, but with Aemond's closeness, you are comforted.

"Yes, he did."

And as the two of them approach your locker, a nervousness begins to grow in your chest and stomach.

You hesitate for a moment before you renew enough courage to ask Aemond what you want to know, with the question hovering constantly in the back of your mind, ever since breakfast.

And releasing a long breath, you dare to speak.

"Are you already working on my college application?"

You immediately regret it, but what can you really do? He's already heard you.

Aemond's eye reflects surprise for a moment before a more serene expression settles on his face.

"Why do you ask?" he asks with genuine curiosity.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling a bit awkward at the revelation of your concerns.

"N-no, it's just... I had a conversation with my dad about it, and I just wanted to know, that's all," you explain, hoping you don't sound too anxious.

"Well, don't worry about it, I've got it under control," he assures you with his reassuring look, when he quickly changes the subject, "And listen, I've got training now, so I've got to get to the field already but I'll see you in class later, okay?"

You say nothing, he doesn't give you the time, as he gently this time leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and walks away, leaving you with your heart beating fast and a mix of emotions that leave you reflective.

And then throughout the school day, you meet Aemond at various times during the day and each time, he is there for you. And the next few days too.

You walk to class together, share laughs at lunch or just in the hallways, as well as Aemond always pretends and proves to be an attentive and gentlemanly 'boyfriend' in the eyes of others.

Every affectionate gesture from him to you, from his gentle kisses to his warm hugs or holding your hand, even to post new photos together to the social, is perceived as genuine and affectionate.

And to you, each of these acts is just a facade, a role you're both playing to keep up appearances in front of others. And you remind yourself that these gestures mean nothing, other than to pretend.

But despite your attempts to keep yourself emotionally distant, you couldn't help but feel touched and to some extent 'special' by the way Aemond treats you.

It's like acting in a movie and being actors playing a couple in love, but you wonder; how come in real life actors don't fall in love for real?

And every time Aemond gives you too much attention and treats you like a boyfriend should treat his girlfriend, a little part of you starts to fear that these gestures might start to be more than just acting for you.

But you know you can't get confused and you can't get your hopes up foolishly. You also tell yourself that you can't let your feelings get complicated now, because it's not the right thing to do.

But still you fear that maybe you might mistake his actions for something real, when you shouldn't.

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