#the articles I grabbed these from in order are | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivwritesfics · 11 months ago

Text

Fake It Till You Make It - CL16

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Fake Dating turned real dating trope

6.3K

For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family

ROYAL MESS

In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.

When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."

"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.

It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?

Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare

Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."

Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.

For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.

Henri was at his wits end.

He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"

"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"

Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.

But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.

Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.

He had to do something, he had no idea what.

There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.

Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.

This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.

Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.

This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.

In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.

At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.

He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.

As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.

In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.

But then then was Charles Leclerc.

Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.

"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.

The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.

Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.

Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."

The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.

Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.

"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."

It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."

Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.

Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.

Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.

There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.

It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.

It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and read through his messages.

Charles Leclerc

I'm in

***

It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.

They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.

So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.

Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."

"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."

"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."

"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"

Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."

Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"

Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."

She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.

That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.

Henri’s head fell into his hands.

For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.

He was a complete control freak.

For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.

That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.

But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.

Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.

As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.

Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).

Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"

She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"

But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.

He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."

Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.

So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.

It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.

The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.

Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.

Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.

The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.

She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.

With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.

"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."

"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.

Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.

***

Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.

The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.

Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I know," she answered.

It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.

She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."

"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.

They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.

It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.

During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.

"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.

"How did that happen?"

She just pretended not to hear him.

This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.

She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.

Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.

Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.

As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?

"I live near here," she said, looking at him.

Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.

"But what do we have to gain from that?"

That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.

"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."

Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.

"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.

Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.

Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."

She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.

"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.

But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.

"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."

"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.

Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.

When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.

So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.

Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.

So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.

"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.

Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.

She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."

Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.

***

There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.

When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting

CL16

what do you want your contact picture to be?

Please don't make it something embarrassing

Oh come on, Charles

I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you

okay i take it back

oh god

look at this little guy

you were so cute

what happened?

Hey!

I'm still cute!

The ladies love me

sure they do, sunshine

She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.

But Henri certainly did.

The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.

"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."

But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.

"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"

It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."

Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"

That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.

Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"

Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.

The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.

Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.

They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.

When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.

As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.

"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.

They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.

They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"

"I... Just thought..."

"Well you thought wrong!"

Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.

The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.

OFF THE RAILS

Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.

Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.

But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.

Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.

She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.

She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?

Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.

So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.

Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.

Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.

Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.

Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.

Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.

That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.

When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.

After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.

When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.

The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.

When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother told me you're not doing good."

"So?"

She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.

But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."

Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.

The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.

"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.

She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.

Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.

And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.

"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."

Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.

He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."

But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.

Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."

Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.

When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.

"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.

But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."

"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.

They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."

Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."

One step at a time.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

1K notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

for the girls * fem!driver

she isn't worrying about being on track for the first time - she worries about the media.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, f1 grid x reader

warnings: literally a piece of garbage, SO inaccurate, no idea what i’m doing…

notes: this is sOOO BAD PLS I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIs man

also, please feel free to send it some scenarios for this series! you can send them in here freeflow~ none of these will be posted in chronological order so don’t worry about it

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"here is sebastian vettel's personal addition to the grid, (y/n)," the interviewer grins, turning to face the girl. "welcome to the 2023 formula 1 season. thank you for coming in."

"thank you for having me," she smiles, hands clasped together in front of her. she's been following sebastian around all day - she doesn't want to be left alone in such a tough crowd.

"how does it feel to be the first woman in formula 1 in almost 2 decades?"

"i'm very thankful for the opportunity given to me to achieve this spot on the grid. i hope i'll be good enough to create a difference and be the stepping stone towards more women in the sport," she answers cordially, moving her arms slightly.

interviews, unfortunately, were also a very big part of the job. she didn't really mind it, but she knew the controversy of her being in the sport, and it's been driving her insane since the pre-season testing.

"and of course congratulations on your move from formula 2 to the main league. how do you feel about the doubters or naysayers who are saying you don't belong here?"

"i think it's unfair to assume my placement in the season before it has even started. i have worked as hard as everybody else to get where i am today, so i'm just really hoping that the fact that i am a woman does not overshadow all my achievements."

she's seen all that's said about her. the news articles, the videos criticising sebastian's choice to vouch for her, and the comments under her posts and announcements - it's very disheartening.

sebastian has tried his best to tell her otherwise, telling her time and time again that he wouldn't have vouched for her if he didn't think she had the potential to be here.

"and how are you getting along with everybody else on the grid?"

"very good. i mean, we've already been acquainted for years and that really helped me out a lot," she laughs, locking eyes with sebastian doing an interview right next to her. "but it is still a competitive sport. it's going to be a climb out there from my starting position at 18th. hopefully it will be a good race."

"of course, good luck out there."

"thank you so much."

"just like we talked about. you'll be fine," sebastian folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the wall.

she's pulling the sleeves of her race suit over her shoulders. "why don't i believe you," she mutters, looking down at her shoes to avoid his eyes. "think about what the media would say if i don't finish in the points today."

"who cares about what the media has to say? just do your best out there today," sebastian repeats, patting her shoulder lightly to get her attention.

he flashes her a grin when she looks up, only to have her roll her eyes as she zips up. "me. i have to face the interviewers later, remember? not you."

"just race like you always have. you're doing this for yourself. not the media, not the insecure guys hiding behind a screen, and definitely not the interviewers." he grabs her shoulders, shaking her just slightly to lighten up the mood. "i'll be in your ears to help you out, okay?"

she sighs, leaning slightly to the side to grab her balaclava off the table. "promise to tell me when i'm being reckless?"

"i'm your race engineer. i've got you."

he turns her around, towards the track where the cars have lined up. "get out there and shut them all up. you're doing this for the girls, remember that."

"right. for the girls," she huffs, wiping her hands on her race suit. she takes the helmet that sebastian is holding out to her and gives him a smile. "okay. i'll talk to you through the radio."

and she does everything she has to do. she’s in the race car, anticipating the formation lap that’s about to start.

days leading up to this moment, she didn’t think she would be so nervous to be behind a wheel. she doesn’t typically let the feeling get to her so much.

but it’s different now that it’s being broadcasted to the entire world. she’s now watched by ten times her normal viewership.

“radio check,” sebastian’s voice comes into her ears. his voice has become a significant point to calming her down behind the wheel. you would be surprised how well he can calm her down just by his voice.

“copy.” she breathes into the mic unknowingly as she exhales, looking up and taking in her view.

her car was surrounded by the engineers, making the final touches on the car and triple checking all the components.

within a few seconds, she can see the sky as they disperse — the sun is shining bright and there are barely any clouds. to her right is yuki, also looking around the grid and the grandstand.

she locks eyes with him as he looks around, her eyes crinkling at the corners to acknowledge him. he returns the gesture with a smile through his eyes then a thumbs up to wish her luck.

she lifts her hand above the halo and returns the thumbs up.

“okay, the first car has taken off for the lap. i’ll check in on you again in a while.”

her grip on the steering wheel is tight despite the engine being turned off. she’s proud of herself for making it through her first race in the league, even parking the car neatly in parc ferme.

“you did amazing.”

“you’re only saying that. i didn’t even finish in the points,” she answers dejectedly, rolling her eyes to herself.

sebastian tries to make light of every situation, even if the normal person would not be able to find that in a frustrating position. but he was also a rookie once. the least he could do is empathise and try to make this experience less daunting for her.

he’s investing in her — her talent is impeccable, but he has to make sure that he fosters and encourages her into the best version of herself. the racer that he knows she is, she just needed someone to actively believe in her.

“the climb from p18 to p11 is good progress. the season just started, kid. the only way is up.”

“sure,” she chuckles. “i’m getting out of the car. see you in a bit, seb.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)

#what is this nonsense #i hate it #sebastian vettel x reader #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke f1 #fem!driver #female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

1K notes · View notes

jewishvitya · 5 months ago

Text

Haaretz did this:

The full thing is under the cut, in case this link is paywalled for other people. The actual text has blocked out portions as well, to highlight what it's like to report on cases of administrative detention.

Highlights:

Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months

And

In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

The data shows that administrative detention, this so-called extreme of extremes, is now the norm. According to Israeli Prison Service numbers, Israel now holds 7016 people who have not yet been convicted in its jails – either awaiting trial or under administrative detention. Of these, 4,299 – more than 60%! – are held without charge or trial. And all that is without saying a single word about the torture, hunger and humiliation to which all Palestinian prisoners held by Israel are subjected these days.

Administrative detention is based on secret suspicions, secret evidence and no charges being brought. To conceal its inherent absurdity, hearings are held in-camera and away from the public eye. As such, even the little that is revealed to the defense remains prohibited for publication.

On the morning of October 29, after a short farewell to his wife Nariman and their kids, Bassem Tamimi left his home in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh, north of Ramallah, and started heading east toward the Allenby Bridge. He was on his way to visit relatives in Jordan he had not seen in a long time. A little after 11 A.M., Nariman received a message saying, "The secret police asked for me. I'll write when it's over." And then, shortly after 3 P.M., a call: "I am being arrested. They're coming to take the phone. Have to go. Bye."

This, unfortunately, was not Bassem's first encounter with Israeli law. His village, Nabi Saleh, has waged a multi-year campaign of civil resistance against land grabs and settlement expansion. As a prominent activist, he was incarcerated repeatedly for his role as a protest leader, part of Israel's attempt to quell dissent.

In the evening, the phone rang again. The woman on the line introduced herself, saying she lived in Silwan and was currently at the Hadassa hospital in Jerusalem. She then went on to say that Bassem was there, surrounded by soldiers. He was taken there after his blood pressure soared dangerously. Nariman could faintly hear Bassem's voice over the line saying, "I'm fine, don't worry, everything's good." After a few more hours, at night, that same woman sent a picture of Bassem in the ER, undergoing a checkup; his hand bound with ziptie cuffs. That was the last time Nariman heard from him. Save for a single short lawyer visit before Eid al-Fitr in April, no one has been in contact with him since.

Four days after his arrest, police ████, ████ ████: "███████ ███ ████ █████ ███ ████████, ██████, █████? "███████ ███ ██████: "████ ███ ██████." And that was that. Eight days later – the maximum time afforded to the authorities by article 33 of Israel's military law in the West Bank before a detainee must be presented before a judge (who also is a soldier in uniform) – a six-month administrative detention order was issued, which did not suggest any specific allegations, but rather only a very general statement regarding ███████ ██ █ ███████ .

Eleven more days later, the Kafkaesque proceedings of judicial review over the order took place. Some of it was held ex-parte between the soldier-judge and the Shin Bet. Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months, until April 28.

Administrative detention, however, is not really bound by the limits of time, and can be extended indefinitely. And indeed, as the six months passed, a new six-month order was signed, citing the same meaningless cause of ██████ ████ █ ██████ ██ █. This time however, and unlike the state of affairs in almost any other administrative detention case, the defense had a pretty good insight into the details of the case. Administrative detention is such a mundane phenomenon in Israeli military courts, that , , , .

A few hours prior to Bassem's arrest, Israeli forces arrested █████ █ ████ █ ██████ ███ █████ █ ████████ ███ ███, Bassem's friend from their days together in Israeli jail at the beginning of the millennium. Then too, under administrative detention. ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ██████ █ ██ █████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █ ███ ███ ████, █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ █ ███ █████ ██ ██ ██ ██ ███ ████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███. █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ███, █████ ███ ███ ███ ███ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████? █ █████ ██ ███ ███. ██ ███ ██ ███ █ ██ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████ █ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████.

█ ████ ███ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ████ ██ ███, ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ██ ███ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ ███ █ "██████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ ██████ ███ ███? █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███████ ███." ███ ██████ ███ ████ █ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ █████ █ ██████ ███ ███ 25 ███ ██ █████ █ ███████ ████, long after the administrative detention order against Bassem was reviewed and approved by the court, ██████ was unconditionally released.

On his release, ██████ contacted Nariman and told her what had happened, thinking that his release must also mean Bassem should soon follow. This is how the defense learned the details it knows, and not through discovery by the prosecution. Even though there is no gag order on ██████ ██████'s case, discussing its details in conjunction with Bassem's administrative detention is prohibited for publication. Despite everything that was revealed – and that is the nature of administrative detention: there can always be more hidden evidence, secret, almost mystical – Bassem is still being held under administrative detention even now. Almost two weeks after the hearing, ███ █ ██ ██████ ██████ ████████ █████ █ █████ █ █████, the judge partially confirmed the second administrative detention order against Bassem in violation of military law provisions, ████████ ████ █ ███ █ ███████ ███ █ ████████.

Like Bassem, thousands more are held captive by Israel under administrative detention. In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

425 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 8 months ago

Text

Based on this ask

Coriolanus Snow knew firsthand the deadly risks of childbirth, considering he watched in horror as a young child when his own mother and baby sister died, but he knew that he needed an heir to carry on the Snow name. When he planned on marrying for hate, well, he could care less what happened to his wife during the delivery.

But, somehow, all his plans and views on marriage changed when he met you. You were hired as his secretary, so you spent a lot of time with him. Coriolanus never planned on falling in love with you, but he did. Hell, he even killed your boyfriend in order to make you single again so you'd be able to go out with him.

And when you accepted his offer of dinner, which came with a single white rose, a few months after the death of your longtime boyfriend, he did everything in his power to make you fall in love with him. Coriolanus was successful, you fell hard and fast for him. He was too charming not to let wiggle into your heart, and into your bed.

The president needed a first lady, so he proposed and married you. But it was a bit scandalous, considering you were his secretary. After a couple of negative articles in the media, well, Coriolanus got rid of the writers and made sure that the studios and printing presses in the Capitol (all of Panem actually) knew that if another foul word was printed about his relationship with his wife then he'd kill every single person in the media office.

Safe to say, only articles praising President Snow and First Lady Snow’s love and glamorous life hit the press after that.

And then, of course, came the subject of children. After discussing it, you stopped taking birth control. And you ended up getting pregnant right away.

Seeing you so round with his child gave Coriolanus joy. Gave him an ego boost because he was the one to plant his seed in you. You were carrying his child. His precious baby.

The baby was no longer looked at as an heir, but as a baby to love.

And it was all because of you.

“Coryo, I have my top list of baby names finished.” You told your husband, who was lounging in bed wearing only a pair of sleep pants.

Coryo watched as you sat across the room, placing his fountain pen back into its holder after writing down the final name on your baby name list.

After discussing it, you both decided to wait until the baby was born to discover the gender. You wanted to be surprised and Coriolanus just wanted you to be happy.

“Are you going to let me see it, my darling?” Your platinum blonde husband asked as you slowly stood up from his corner desk.

Placing a hand on your large belly, you smiled, “Of course I'm going to let you see it.”

Grabbing the list, you slowly walked over to the bed. After getting into bed, you handed the list to your husband. “Tell me what ones you like, Mister President.”

Coryo kissed your cheek and smiled. “Of course, First Lady Snow.”

He read over the list, only to discover that you had more boys' names than girls written down. After giving it some thought, he told you, “Cassian Xandros is perfect for our son. It's a strong name.” Mulling it over, he pointed to a name on the paper and announced, "Cersei sounds nice for a girl.”

“It's not nice, Coryo, it's beautiful.” You countered, pulling the list out of his hands. “Looks like the baby has a name; all we need to do is wait for it to come.”

The day your daughter Cersei Snow was born was the day that your husband decided to hate her.

The day didn't start out with him hating his baby girl.

No, it started with your water breaking and a trip to the hospital. Coriolanus canceled all of his meetings, briefings, and work for the day just to be by your side.

He was very supportive during your labor. Letting you hold his hand during painful contracts, smoothing your hair back away from your sweaty face with a damp rag, and buzzing the nurse multiple times for both ice chips and pain medication for you.

The nurses all gossiped amongst each other about how President Snow was the perfect doting husband and and father to be. That he'd make a very good father.

Little did they know.

Little did anyone know what would happen once the doctor came into the room and announced that it was time to start pushing.

Coriolanus was by your side as you pushed and pushed. With every push he noticed you were getting weaker and it worried him.

Looking between your weak, pale form, and the doctor that was sitting at the bottom of your bed, Coriolanus asked, “Dr. Wellock, my wife's growing weaker. Is there something you can do to get the baby out?”

“There's nothing to be worried about, President Snow. Labor’s a strenuous event; many first time mothers grow fatigue and can push for a while before the baby crowns.” The doctor told your husband, more or less blowing off his concern.

You were exhausted but determined to have your baby. Even tho you were feeling dizzy, you continued to bear down and push every time you were told to.

Then, when you felt that you didn't have any more strength coursing thru your body, you gave birth to your baby.

You saw Dr. Wellock hold up the baby and announce, “It's a girl.” Suddenly, your vision began to get fuzzy as you heard the doctor ask your husband, “President Snow, would you like to cut the cord?”

Coriolanus was about to answer whenever he saw you faint, paired with blood pooling around your legs and staining the bed.

“What's wrong with my wife?!” Coriolanus asked, fear filling him as the doctor quickly cut the baby's cord and tossed her to a waiting nurse. “Dr. Wellock, is my wife dying?!” Coriolanus asked in a panicked scream, while the nurse quickly cleaned the baby and wrapped her into a blanket.

“Your wife's hemorrhaging, President Snow.” Dr. Wellock told your husband, only to point to the nurse and tell her, “Give him the baby and get him out of here.”

So, the nurse dumped the baby in Coriolanus' arms and pushed him out of the door. Before the president could blink, the door was slammed shut I'm his face.

As Dr. Wellock and his nurse worked to staunch your bleeding; save your life, your husband stood outside of your room with your newborn baby girl in his arms.

Coriolanus looked down at the tiny baby wriggling and crying in his hold, only to look at the door of your room and realize that you're dying because of the thing in his arms.

Cersei’s what the two of you decided to name her, when she wasn't a danger. Wasn't the reason you're dying.

Coriolanus felt disgust and hatred for the newborn in his arms. He didn't want to hold her anymore. She was the reason why you're knear death right now.

So, your husband found a nurse to pawn the baby on.

Coriolanus swore to himself that he'd never touch that evil little creature ever again. That he'd never love her.

It didn't matter if you lived or died, he was going to hate your daughter until the day he died.

You didn't die in childbirth, but it was a close call. The doctor explained that you had bad hemorrhaging due to your uterus not contracting correctly after the birthing process, causing uncontrollable bleeding. You were given a blood transfusion, once Dr. Wellock managed to stop the bleeding, due to your blood pressure being too low after such a large blood loss.

You were out of it for days, but you survived.

You were happy to be alive and with your family. Coriolanus and Cersei.

But it didn't take long for you to notice that Coriolanus never picked up your daughter. He never held her, hell, Coryo never seemed too interested in her.

Unless it was for a photo op. Then he turned into the perfect hands on dad that would pose for pictures. But as soon as the cameras stop flashing, the president stops caring about his daughter.

You thought that Coriolanus would get over it; would come to accept your daughter in time. But…sadly…your daughter's first birthday is fastly approaching and your husband still doesn't seem interested in her, unless it's for a photo op.

It saddened you, knowing that Coriolanus was offish to Cersei because she wasn't the son he probably wanted to carry on the Snow name. You loved your daughter and you were sure that your Coryo loved her too, but was just disappointed that she wasn't the strong son he probably had his heart set on.

He did pick out a boy name right off the bat when you handed him your list of baby names last year.

Maybe if Coryo had a son to carry on the Snow name, he'd be happier in his role of fatherhood?

Coriolanus walked into the sunroom only to cringe when he saw you coddling Cersei. The damn little creature nearly murdered you during the birthing process, but you were holding her as she napped on you.

Goodness, there was a portable cradle in the room for a reason.

“She's nearly a year old, you shouldn't be letting her sleep on you like that.” Coriolanus told you, taking a seat at the small tea table. He never even tried to hide the disgust in his voice.

“There's nothing wrong with holding her, Coryo? She's my baby girl.” You responded, causing your husband to just shake his head while reaching for the teapot that was in the middle of the table.

“She's a toddler now, darling. She's not a baby anymore.” Coriolanus scoffed, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Do you want to have afternoon tea with me, or are you going to coddle Cersei all day?” He asked, grabbing a macaron and placing it onto the small plate that was in front of him.

“I'll have tea with you, Coryo.” You thinly smiled, only to rise from your spot on the sofa and place your daughter into her portable crib.

As you made your way over to the table, your husband fixed you a cup of tea and plated you macarons. When you sat down, you decided that now was the time to bring up the subject of having more children.

Little did you know, after your near death experience, Coriolanus got himself snipped. So…it was impossible for you to have any more children.

But he wasn't going to tell you that.

Reaching for your teacup, you told your husband,“Coryo, I think we should have another baby.”

“No.” Was Coriolanus’ quick and cold reply.

“But, we could have a son this time “ You pressed, knowing that your husband wanted a son. Wanted the Snow name to live on.

But you were wrong. Coriolanus didn't want a son to carry on the Snow name, he wanted you alive to be by his side. He loves you to the point of obsessive possession. The love Coriolanus has for you is all consuming, like a plague of locusts devouring an entire field of crops in District 11.

Coryo took a long sip of his tea, only to cut eyes with you over his teacup and firmly say, “I said no, Y/N.” placing his teacup down, he gave you the lame excuse of, “I'm a very busy man, my little dove. Being president takes much of my time away from my fatherly duties; we can only handle raising one child. More than one would be too much for us, considering you refuse a nanny.”

“I told you when I was pregnant with Cersei that I want to raise our kids. I don't want somebody else raising them, no matter how it might be easier considering your role in politics.”

“My role in politics?” Coriolanus chuckled, biting into his macaron. “I'm the President of Panem, that's more than just a role in politics.”

Sipping on your tea, you sighed, “Fine, Cersei’ll be an only child.”

Grabbing your hand in his, Coryo promised, “Our daughter will never want for anything. She'll be showered in a life of luxury.”

That wasn't true. Your daughter grew up wanting her father's love, but she never got it. Coriolanus was always so distant and cold with Cersei.

She hated him, but that was fine with your husband since he hated her right back.

You always thought that your husband resented your daughter for not being a son, for not being able to carrying on the might and noble Snow name.

But that wasn't the case at all.

Coriolanus Snow hated his daughter, Cersei, because you nearly died in childbirth with her. Nothing would every change that. He'd hate her til the day she died.

At least when your daughter died, it was bringing your beautiful granddaughter into the world.

A granddaughter Coryo named Celeste Snow, since your daughter was unwed at the time of her unexpected death.

Your husband was a better grandfather than he was a father. You thought that he might've felt guilty for being so distant and busy during Cersei’s childhood, that he decided to right his wrongs while you raised Celeste.

Little did you know, Coriolanus loved his granddaughter because she killed her mother in the birthing bed.

President Snow was a horrible, heartless man with a soul darker than a black hole. But at least he loved you and loved his granddaughter.

Too bad he hated his only child her entire life.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow fanfiction #thg fanfiction

869 notes · View notes

fruitglazed · 10 months ago

Note

WHAT KIND OF RECS

rough sex w matt pls im in heatttttttttttt

I hope this makes your pussy throb. ୨⍣୧

♡

Turning off the water, you open the shower door, grabbing the towel you placed on the counter. Wrapping it over your body, you hear a ding. Checking your phone, it reads “See you at 6pm, pretty girl.” Confirmation text from Matt, your boyfriend of a few months. Followed by another ding, you glance down at your phone again. “Bro, I’m right next to you, no need to text me.” His brother Chris sent back. Chuckling to yourself, you dry both your hands off on the towel around your frame. “See you boys tonight. And Nick, what’re you wearing?” Pressing send, you smile to yourself. Our hebdomadal dinner was a go tonight. The four of you decided on a fancy Steakhouse. One of your favorites in particular. Expensive, but yummy. It was Matt’s turn to pay. You love to watch Matt get riled up whenever Chris would order almost the entire menu since he wasn’t in charge of the bill this time. Running out of the bathroom after finishing your hair and makeup, you head into your room browsing through your closet. With another ding from your phone- “White tank top and my corduroy striped pants. The purple ones.” Loving the message, you threw your phone on the bed. Time to get to work. Stripping each article of clothing you had from its place, you managed to decide on a simple satin dress. Eggshell shade, buttons on one side, starting from the hip, down to the slit of the dress. Not too short, just the perfect length. Thin spaghetti straps, hanging over your shoulders. The dress fit you in all the right places. To compliment Nick, you found a pair of open toed purple sandals. Adding on all your gold accessories, you look at the clock. 5:49pm. Dousing yourself with your favorite smell, you head back into your room and grab your phone. As you scroll through, you press Matt’s contact to give him a call. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Matt says. “Just finished getting ready, I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’m wearing a pretty dress for you, I hope you’ll take it off of me later.” You breathe out. Almost moaning. You and Matt were like wild animals when it came to sex. Time and place didn’t matter. Matt’s breathing became louder as he spoke into the phone. “You don’t have to ask me twice. Should I just cancel dinner and come do it now?” Laughing you said you wouldn’t mind. Matt could fuck you any time he pleased, and you’d thank him. You weren’t shy when it came to him touching and fucking you. “I think we should role play tonight.” You suggested. This was one of your favorites to do with Matt. He thought it was fun, especially since you always got into character. “Sure, baby. That sounds like fun. We’re on our way to get you now.” Cheerfully, Matt had responded back. “See you soon, baby.” Blowing a kiss over the phone, you hung up.

Luckily the drive to your place from theirs, was only 2 minutes give or take. You locked up the house and walked to the end of the driveway. Pulling up, you see Matt in the drivers seat, and Chris in the passenger seat. Chris hops out of the door to offer you the front, but you decline and slip into the backseat next to Nick. “Hi boys! Are we ready for dinner this evening?” You exclaim. “Oh yes girl. Chris has been pissing me off all day because he’s hungry. Literally at any point he could’ve gotten a snack and just shut the fuck up.” Nick huffed out, smacking his lips. “Nick, shut up. You know I don’t eat much when it’s not my tab I have to worry about.” Chris spoke, rubbing his hands together, with a menacing laugh, all the while he stares down Matt. Smiling to yourself, you know Matt’s going to punch Chris when he sees the bill. “Hi, Matt. Ready for dinner?” I say in his direction. He eyeballs me through the mirror, taking turns looking at the road, then me. “Mhm.” His throat vibrates out. Hm. He must be getting into character already. You shrug and spark up a conversation with Nick and Chris. Once arrived at the Steakhouse, you all shuffle in and pick your seats. Matt goes on the opposite side of the table, across from Nick. Pulling the chair out from the table for you, expecting you to sit next to him, and Chris to sit with Nick, you decline again. You plop down right next to Chris, taking Nick’s usual spot. Furrowing his eyebrows, Matt stops and stares at you. With a blank look on his face, not taking his eyes off you, “Nick, sit next to me.” Leaves Matt’s lips. Nick puts his hands up and nods, sitting down next to him. Matt takes his seat still with his eyes locked on you. Staring back, not intimidated by him, you smile and make sure everyone has a menu. “Okay…” Chris says, breaking the tension between the Matt and I. “Yeah, what’s the deal?” Nick pipes in. “Nothing! I’m totally cool. I’m excited for tonight, I’m hungry and I’m with my best friends. Besides, it’s all on Matt, tonight.” A smirk creeping onto your lips. Nick and Chris giggle, while Matt is still monotone. Just before anyone can say anything else, a waitress stops by to take the tables order. “Hi there, welcome in! what can I get started for drinks for you all?” She says, pulling out her pen and notepad. “I’ll take an ice water with lemon. Thanks sweetheart.” Matt says smiling, looking from her straight to you, but dropping the smile. “Uh, yeah. We’ll do 3 more of those. Thanks!” Nick quickly says, hurriedly getting the waitress away from the table. You look at Matt, biting your lip almost laughing in disbelief. Looking back at your menu, skimming all the possibilities, the waitress appears with the lemon water and some bread and butter. As she’s setting them down on the table, she takes her hand and caresses Matt’s shoulder. Watching his every move from behind your menu, you roll your eyes. “Thanks again, sweetheart.” Matt repeats, this time with more of a flirtatious tone. Two can play at this game. Ignoring them and rescanning the menu, Chris leans over next to you- “Oh, by the way, you look very pretty tonight. You clean up nice, kid.” He says, innocently. You look up from your menu and glance at Matt, then turning to Chris. “Aww thanks Chris. That’s so sweet of you. I must say you’re looking rather handsome yourself.” You wink at him, bringing your hand up to his face just underneath his chin, giving his cheeks a little squeeze. You blow a kiss at him, then bring your eyes back to Matt. Anything goes when you role play. You can tell he’s seething in his chair. Trying not to make it obvious that it clearly had an effect on him. “I’ll be right back you guys, I’m going to the bathroom.” You excuse yourself and head to the ladies room. Once you find the bathrooms, you head in. Looking in the mirror, thinking to yourself this is not how tonight is supposed to go. In an instant the bathroom door flies open. Matt enters, locking the door behind him. “What the fuck was that?” He says harshly. Almost anything goes when you role play.

Playing dumb, you respond. “What was what, sweetheart?” Matt is two inches from your face. “You know what.” Sternly and not holding back, he gets even closer. “I pick you up, and you get in the back? We get here, you don’t sit next to me? Now you’re out there getting cute with Chris?” His chest is now touching yours. Not saying a word, you just look up at him. “He might look like me, but he can’t fuck like me.” Matt says brazenly. Your cheeks burn. Your core is on fire. Staring into his eyes, his pupils widen, getting darker by the second. Trying to slow your breathing down, you shrug. “Turn around. Now.” Matt flips you around, both of you looking at yourselves in the mirror. His dick outlined through his pants, grazing your ass. You softly moan to yourself. “Don’t make a sound unless I fucking tell you to.” Matt replies. Pressing his hand on your back, he pushes your chest to the cold counter. Matt brings his hands up your thighs to the buttons on your dress. In a motion he tears at your dress, buttons flying everywhere. All you can do is stare at him. “Good girl.” He breathes out. Pulling up your dress to the small of your back, exposing your ass and glistening pussy. “No panties? And you’re already soaked? I haven’t even touched you. You’re such a slut for me.” Dropping to his knees, he’s face first with your core. He drags his thumb up and down your cunt. Standing back up behind you, he shoves his finger in his mouth, licking it clean. Unbuckling his pants with one hand, they fall to the floor. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep inside you with no time to adjust. “Matt!” You yell out, forgetting what he just said. “Shut the fuck up.” He grits through his teeth. Matt takes his hands and wraps them around your throat, slightly squeezing each time you make a noise. Holding onto the sink, you could feel his rage with each stroke. Tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the pain, yet pleasure he’s enduring on your tight little pussy. “Don’t you ever think about sitting next to anyone else but me. Don’t ever touch anyone else but me. Next time, I’ll fuck you in front of them. Show them what’s mine.” The sound of moans and his hips slapping against your ass is definitely loud enough to hear from outside the bathroom. “Who fucks you like this, huh? Whose pussy is this.” Matt grabs ahold of your face, lining it up with the mirror. Watching him use you, sliding his cock in and out, making you take him deeper and deeper with every breath he breathes. Looking him in the eyes, you whisper out through tears “It’s yours, Matthew. This is your pussy.” A moan leaves your lips. Eyes rolling in the back of your head. Speeding up his thrusts, he’s hate fucking you, you can barely form a sentence. “Matt, I can’t take it-“ Throwing your head back. Matt grabs your hips, guiding your body with his slams into you. Clenching his member with your walls, you wish he could be buried in you forever. Your wetness leaking down your legs, hoping that he will lick it up afterwards. “Gonna fuck my load right into that cunt of yours. You’re gonna take every last drop.” His voice was dark. His thrusts began to slow, but he was still in control. Pumping in and out of you once more, he came in an instant. Matt pulled out and immediately crouched down, staring at your sweetly filled pussy. Watching his cum drizzle out of you, he took two of his fingers and stuffed it right back inside, swirling it around. Once he was satisfied, he brought his fingers up to your lips and shoved them in. Observing you suck the conjoined juices off his fingers, made him ready to fuck you again. Matt placed a sweet kiss on your lips and fixed your dress. Buckling his pants and running his hand through his hair, he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go baby, we have a dinner to ever back to.” He smiled back at you. Almost like he didn’t just fuck you senseless in your favorite Steakhouse’s bathroom. Walking out hand in hand from the women’s restroom, you get back to the table.

“Nick, do you mind if I trade seats with you?” You say, still holding onto Matt’s hand. Nick stands up and lets you sit, scooting the chair in for you. Chris and Nick both look at you and Matt, and then back at each other, laughing. “What?” Matt scoffs. “Oh nothing, just wondering if you love birds squashed the beef you had, or if you needed to go back to the bathroom for round 2?” Chris cackled. “Oh my god, you heard that?” You gasped. I mean you knew, but you didn’t want to believe it. “Oh sweetheart, everyone heard it.” Nick added. Rolling your eyes while giggling to yourself, Matt leans over to you. “I’ll be ready for round two when we get home.”

♡

hiiiiiii…,,,,,,,, so I feel like I got sloppy at the end. >:-( ! anyways hope this was good enough 4 u anon <3 thank u 4 requesting this. Let me know anything yall want me to make come to LIFE! Mwah 💋

#fruitglazed #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolos #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader

485 notes · View notes

thejakeslayla · 11 months ago

Text

╰─▸❝ enhypen reaction to reader accidentally hurting themselves❞ maknae line ver.

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ warnings: reader getting hurt, blood, bruises, niki being annoying but adorable, reading falling down stairs,

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jungwon 양정원 ✩ warnings: blood

jungwon stepped out of the kitchen for just a moment. upon returning from work, he promptly agreed to assist you with dinner. however, as he realised he needed to change, a loud crash of breaking glass and your startled exclamation drew him out of the bedroom, still in the process of putting on his shirt. he managed to finish dressing before entering the kitchen, but as he stood in the doorway, you stopped him.

“wonnie, wait! there’s glass everywhere,” you warned him but your calls didn’t seem to stop him from getting closer to you. he easily manoeuvred his way through the shards, reaching out to touch your hands.

“god, y/nnie.. what happened?” he asked. the pain was unbearable, yet you managed to endure it. when jungwon touched the inner part of your hand, you couldn't help but hiss.

he recoiled quickly, hands in the air. "i was trying to reach for this cup, didn't realise the other one was in front of it. i just didn't see it," you explained, and he listened. "i tried to catch it, but i didn't make it in time, and the glass cut me."

once again, your boyfriend held you, this time by your wrist, guiding you toward the sink. he turned on the water and, before placing your hands under it, checked the temperature.

as the blood washed away, he hummed. "thank goodness there are no deep cuts or glass pieces stuck. you need to be more careful, love."

jungwon instructed you to wash your hands slowly with soap while he cleared the glass on the floor and fetched the first aid kit from your bathroom. returning, he turned off the water, prompting you to sit on a chair. crouching in front of you, slowly and gently bandaging your wounds.

you observed how his hands moved cautiously around yours, as if afraid of causing more harm. it was as if you were so delicate that the slightest touch might break your skin. unconsciously, a smile formed on your lips.

"thank you, jungwonnie. you're the best," your whisper made him look up. his eyes seemed to brighten as they met yours—the smile that healed not only your heart but also every wound.

"be careful next time. i may not be the tallest, but it's better if you call me when you need help, okay, honey?" he advised, unaware of how much this seemingly small gesture meant to you.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ kim sunoo 김선우 ✩

"should we order something?" sunoo inquired as you both relaxed on a saturday afternoon. you shifted your gaze from your phone to his face and shook your head.

"honestly, i'm craving ramen. we can just make that," you replied. with your answer, your boyfriend nodded, removing his arm from around your waist. he stood up, and you quickly followed him to the kitchen.

while sunoo opened the door, your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, as you were finishing reading an article that was praising enhypen’s new album. you and sunoo were always very supporting of each other, but with more and more months of being together, you had become the biggest fan of sunoo's stage character. this passion led you to create a twitter account, where you shared your thoughts on new songs, posted pictures, and simply gushed about how sweet sunoo was.

lost in the article, you accidentally banged your knee on the half-open door and your first response was to bend down and grab the hurting spot with your free hand, but misjudging the distance, you also ended up hitting your head. sunoo turned back, puzzled, at the loud noises. yelping in pain, you straightened up and looked at your amused boyfriend.

"what did you do?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips

"i don't want to talk about this," you protested, placing a hand on your throbbing forehead.

he then laughed, pulling you into a hug. his hand resting on your head, pressing you to his chest. he kept laughing at your clumsiness while you tried to free yourself from the tight grip. “it’s not funny!” you said, voice muffled.

"well, it is for me," he chuckled, his hand gently caressing your head, causing you to slowly melt in his arms. "how much does it hurt?" he asked as he pulled away, planting a kiss on your red forehead.

"a lot," you admitted, and as sunoo kissed your forehead again, you blushed. “thank you,” you whispered, feeling warmth spreading to your cheeks.

"be careful, please," he insisted, his lips moving from your forehead to your cheek.

“can we forget about this and just make ramen?” you suggested and he moved away with a smile on his face, now turning to the kitchen counters.

"i can make the ramen; you sit and rest. i don't want you to hurt yourself again, bubba," sunoo insisted, and you obeyed, enjoying watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ nishimura riki 西村力 ✩ warnings: bruises, niki being annoying but cute

“y/n we’re going to be late!” niki's voice echoed from downstairs. the boy decided to take you out on a proper date this time. while your usual dates were casual, niki wanted to treat you to a nice restaurant, as he wanted to make it special.

not that you were complaining. you enjoyed every date niki planned; his ideas were usually very cute and just comfortable. full of laughter, fun and pure love. but when he insisted on calling this one a "real date," it unexpectedly brought on a wave of anxiety, despite you and niki being together for a long time.

"y/n!" he called again, and you knew you had to head downstairs before niki could get mad, which rarely happens. you left the bedroom, dressed in an unexpectedly elegant outfit – a departure from your usual attire for outings with your boyfriend. it was also the first time you'd see niki dressed similarly.

the shoes you wore added height, and as you hurried downstairs, you realized you weren't accustomed to walking in them. (since it’s gender neutral, you can either imagine platforms or heels, the choice is all yours) as you ran downstairs, your heel missed a step, causing you to tumble down the staircase. unfortunately, you were almost at the top of staircase. niki watched, frozen in place, as you went down, the fall seeming to stretch on forever.

it was happening so fast, you couldn’t even grab the railing, only a few seconds after, trying to slow down by using your hands. finally stopping on the last step, tears welled up in your eyes, the pain being unbearable. niki chuckled initially, but concern quickly replaced his laughter. "baby, are you okay?" he rushed over.

"do i look okay, nishimura?" you retorted, attempting anger that your wobbly voice betrayed.

"it's okay, y/nnie. grab my hands, please. i'll help you, okay?" niki could read you well, understanding you needed him right now. "oh, you big baby, stop being grumpy and let me help you," he added when you hesitated.

with a heavy sigh, you took his hands. "you were supposed to be my knight in shining armor and catch me in time," you huffed.

he only shook his head and guided you to the couch so you could sit down. your hip was hurting so much, it was impossible to walk correctly, so you slightly limped. niki quickly noticed, grabbing your waist and using more of his strength to help you.

when you sat down, another heavy sigh left your lips. niki, uncertain of his role in taking care of you, stood there, unsure. usually you were the responsible one, taking care of him when he’s hurting. the roles were never reversed, so he was just lost.

"can i see?" he finally asked, eyes on your hip. "we need to check the damage after your close encounter with our stairs," he said, earning an eye roll from you. after a moment, you nodded.

when niki uncovered your bare skin, he gasped. "baby, this is insane. it's not even on your hip; it's all over the side of your thigh," he said, making you look over. for some reason the boy reached out to touch it and the fear of him touching it was enough to make you scream.

“are you insane?” you squeaked, moving away from niki.

“y/n, do you think me, your amazing boyfriend would ever hurt you?” he asked and you gave him a serious look. “okay, back then i hit you with the ball by accident.”

"you literally yelled, 'y/n, catch this,' and then decided to throw the ball with your full strength." his silence spoke volumes. "go grab ice from the freezer, wrap it with a thin towel, go to the bathroom, and grab the ointment and bandages. my hands are all cut up," you instructed, and he hurried to comply.

it took him a while, maybe if he remembered everything it would be easier. but finally he returned with everything. he tried to gently put the ice pack against your skin, but well.. niki wasn’t the best at taking care of bruises like that.

“oh my god, niki. i will kill you,” you said, when the pain doubled after he not so slowly and not so gently touched your bruise with hard and cold ice.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "here, call the restaurant and tell them we won't make it," he said, passing his phone to you, contact to the restaurant displayed on screen.

“but, niki, you really wanted to go–”

“are you insane?” he repeated your previous words, “we're not going, not when you're hurting like that. we can go another time; you're more important than good food.”

“you're the best—DON’T POKE IT, ARE YOU STUPID—”

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen #enha

986 notes · View notes

biblomaniac · 4 months ago

Text

Supercorp headcanon:

Lena gives Kara extravagant gifts not because she’s rich and money is no obstacle, but because that the only way she knows how to show that she cares.

Lena grew up and a largely loveless home. Any gifts she received were most likely only for show, or had a practical purpose. When she was young, Lena learned that people wanted her for three things: her body, her name, or her money. Buying expensive gifts for fake friends and temporary dalliances became the only way she could express even the simplest of gratitudes.

When she meets Kara, she keeps up the practice. An office full of flowers for a positive article and a company to keep Kara happy and employed are only the ends of an extreme spectrum. Lena would give Kara just about anything to keep her happy, although Kara doesn’t ask for anything but Lena’s time.

By profligate present #50, Kara has to put her foot down about the amount of gifts the brunette gives.

“What do you mean you don’t want it? I can exchange it for something better.”

“No, Lena. It’s lovely, but I just can’t accept it.”

“I don’t understand. Why don’t you want it? Is it not good enough?”

“Lena,” Kara can hardly explain before Lena is on her phone ordering an upgraded model in three different colors.

“They have red, blue, yellow, green, purple… Y’know what? I’ll get the first three and we can go from there.”

Kara uses a small burst of SuperSpeed to grab the phone from Lena’s hand before she can press ‘order’.

“Lena, there is nothing wrong with it! I can’t accept it because you have given me too many gifts already. I appreciate them, you know I do, but it’s just too much. I don’t need you to buy me gifts to make me spend time with you. I just need you, Lena.”

Lena is stunned for a moment before she drops her head to hide quivering lips. When she looks up, her green eyes are misty. Kara wraps Lena in a hug before any tears can fall. A few minutes later, when Kara thinks Lena has calmed down enough to speak without crying, she pulls away enough to see Lena’s face while they talk.

“Lena, what’s wrong?”

Lena keeps her eyes pointed to the floor, feeling ashamed at her outburst. Kara’s right hand grasps Lena’s chin just enough to tilt her head up.

“Look at me, baby. You don’t have to be embarrassed. Tell me what’s wrong.”

In a voice meeker than Kara has ever heard from the strong, outspoken woman, Lena admits:

“I just… no one has said they wanted me for me. Any relationship I’ve ever had has been transactional. I don’t… I don’t know how to show you I care without giving you things. You mean everythi—a lot, to me Kara.”

Lena almost lets the extent of her feelings slip, but she isn’t so far gone as to get entirely loose lipped. Kara wants so badly to scoop Lena up and just wrap her in comfort, but she doesn’t want to overshadow the initial matter at hand. She decides unfiltered honesty is the first course of action, then the comfort can commence.

“Lena, I LOVE you. I don’t need the gifts, or your money, or anything like that. If you never bought me another present, I would still care as much for you as I do right now,” Kara leans down slowly, pressing her forehead against Lena’s.

Lena gazes up at Kara, eyes watery and searching. Kara never breaks eyes contact, content to hold Lena’s gaze until she finds what she is searching for. It feels like ages have passed when Lena finally replies, and even then, Kara doesn’t think she would’ve been able to hear the CEO if not for her SuperHearing.

“I…I love you, Kara. Not as a friend, but as more. I wanted to show you how much you meant to me, in hopes that you would want more. I was too afraid to say anything; too afraid of you deciding that one day, you couldn’t handle being friends with me anymore. I don’t think I could take it if you rejected me, Kara. I—“

The blonde cuts her off with a kiss. It doesn’t feel earth shattering or like an explosion of fireworks. It feels like coming home. Lena squeals, wrapping her arms around Kara’s neck when the reporter reaches down just far enough to grasp Lena by the back of her legs and lift her enough to comfortably hold Lena against herself.

With beaming smiles, they separate their lips but remain pressed against each other.

Emboldened by their newfound comfort, Kara presses kiss after kiss to Lena’s face. Lena giggles, squirming away as much as she can while held aloft by Kara.

“If I knew all I had to do to get you to kiss me was stop accepting your gifts, I would have put an end to this when you bought me that ridiculously expensive coffeemaker that I never figured out how to use.”

“Kara!”

#supercorp #supercorp oneshot #oneshot #headcanon #kara x lena #lena luthor #kara zorel #kara danvers

334 notes · View notes

aayakashii · 3 months ago

Note

❤3 and ❤42 with Yuri please, I need something fluffy with him right now

3❤️ a kiss on the forehead

42❤️ a clumsy kiss

Warning: this is not a drabble at all but I can't shut up so here take this fic 🫳 also not very proofread YET so I apologize if it's a bit wonky

One thing about Mortkranken’s underground: it’s cold. It makes sense, though. There were tons of biological samples being analyzed by students every single day, so it’s not like it could have a warm and comfortable temperature.

Still, you weren’t expecting it to be so cold.

It was kind of ironic, knowing how Yuri hated the other extremely cold dorm of Darkwick. But while Frostheim was freezing because of its natural weather (or as natural as a place created by an anomalous island could be), Mortkranken had all the air conditioners and freezers to create that artificial bubble of icy and dry climate.

Yuri’s personal office wasn’t exempt from the cold. Despite how spacious it was, the air still hung heavy while a split system blasted glacial wind mercilessly.

You trembled slightly as you went through paper after paper, doing inventory of all of Yuri’s books. Despite being a genius, apparently he couldn’t organize all the dozens of bookshelves he kept carelessly stacked with medical tomes, articles and notes.

Sometimes you wondered if he would just carry on, working in a terribly messy office, if you had never come around and offered your help - which he begrudgingly accepted.

However, it’s not like you were doing that entirely out of the good of your heart. You liked spending time with Yuri, despite how snappy he was, yes. You saw how lonely and starved of appreciation he was and it tugged on your heartstrings. Probably no one ever tried to go past that wall of arrogance he had built for himself as a protection, and you were set on trying to give him a little bit of comfort.

Maybe you also thought that the way his hair fell on his face was very pretty, that his sea-green eyes were gorgeous, and that everytime he blushed you wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him into a kiss so you could watch him have a meltdown and turn into putty in your hands. Yes. Maybe. But that’s not why you were there.

You were there because Frostheim was throwing one of their fancy balls that night and you desperately wanted to escape. You were invited, or better yet, subpoenaed by Jin and Tohma and you wanted nothing to do with it. You already had to deal with a tragic curse, thank you very much. Mingling with stuck up rich students was the last thing you wanted to do.

So, mentally apologizing to Kaito and Luca, you lied through your teeth and said you already had a job to do. At that point, you didn’t; but you found yourself in Yuri’s office, annotating his every dusty book just in case they sent someone to grab you by the hair and drag you to the ball. They wouldn’t try to come close to Mortkranken, after all - too much drama between the captains.

And work you did. Being around a cute doctor was just a bonus.

Yuri scrolled through his phone mindlessly for a few minutes, allowing himself to rest his brain after another day of working until his eyes were crossing. He wasn’t much of a social media guy, but he understood quite well the importance of taking breaks every so often in order to have his thoughts reorganize themselves. Even if he went around and then spent three days wide awake just to compensate for a 15 minute break.

It’s not like he was actually relaxing, however. He was very much aware of your presence in his office, just a few steps away from him, as you organized his books. You had offered yourself to catalog his tomes and clean them up out of nowhere and, despite his hesitance, deep down he was grateful for that. After all, an organized workplace works wonders for inspiration and concentration - he was just… very bad at doing the organization thing when it wasn’t directly related to his duties as a doctor.

He also wasn’t quite sure why you had suddenly offered to spend the evening working, but he just decided to chalk it up to you being grateful for his brilliance and infinite generosity. He DID offer to train you in anomalous medicine, didn’t he? Maybe you were just wise and trying to repay his kindness.

He huffed, a smug smile on his face, clearly satisfied with his own answer, but quickly turned his attention back to his phone after noticing you heard him and looked his way.

After scrolling mindlessly through posts about scientific innovations, articles, new hospitals and a bunch of ads for questionable medicines that claim to cure people of everything and anything at all, Yuri stopped at a photo of a familiar place.

It had been posted only 10 minutes before and showed a grand ballroom, filled with young people in fancy garments and expensive flower bouquets placed in tall vases that decorated every corner. Some people appeared to be dancing, while others chatted with a drink in their hand.

It was a familiar place because he had been in this exact same setting before – it was Frostheim and apparently they were throwing a ball at that very moment.

Yuri's lips curled down in disgust at the sight of the dorm.

“These mindless pricks just can't spend a single day without flaunting their wealth, can they?” Yuri grumbled audibly, scowling at his phone.

“Did you say something, Yuri?” you asked, turning to face him while you meticulously noted down another batch of book titles in your handbook.

“These wannabe nobles from Frostheim!” he spat “They can't do a single useful thing for society, but still try to intimidate others by showing off how rich they are! Disgusting!” Yuri slammed his phone on the desk, getting up from his seat, and pranced around the large room, as if he could not contain his anger quietly.

He didn't quite understand the reasoning behind his own anger. All he knew was that he felt enraged, an ironically icy feeling crawling up his chest. And that he needed a Frostheim student in front of him right at that moment so he could punch them. Too bad he was so physically weak.

“Oh, are you talking about the ball they're throwing today?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Yuri stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around towards you, an expression of disgust and betrayal on his face.

How would you even know about this ball? Frostheim prided in excluding everyone else that didn't wear that godawful blue lapel pin from every social event. So how would you, a puny little student with no association to any dorm at all, know about a big event such as that ball?

Yuri chose to blatantly ignore your friendships with Luca and Kaito for the benefit of his own theory.

You swallowed hard, realizing by his behavior that you probably should not have said that at all.

“How do you know about that ball?!” he said, through gritted teeth.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… I heard Luca and Kaito mention it earlier today…”

Yuri slowly walked towards you, as if he was a predator gauging your movements in order to know when to attack.

“Lies. I see how you are blinking fast. You also have flared nostrils and you are unconsciously biting your lips! Body language 101! You cannot fool a doctor like me, I see everything!”

You sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was invited.” you mumbled, grabbing a tome and wiping the dust from its cover, avoiding Yuri's accusatory gaze.

His jaw went slack. His theory was correct then, after all! But of course it was. He was Yuri Isami, the captain of Mortkranken and the best doctor on that campus. Of course he was correct.

And so you were indeed a filthy traitor.

“Oh, so you're so connected to that despicable dorm that you were even INVITED to their ball?!” How dare you, he wanted to say, how dare you give them the time of the day when HE– when Mortkranken was the one doing all the important work in that place.

You raised an eyebrow at Yuri's dramatics, side-eyeing him while you still dusted books.

“Darkwick made me the inspector, remember? I have to have proper relationships with every single dorm and it's not like I want that either. It's all because of my curse.”

Yuri scoffed, throwing his arms up in disbelief.

“As if you need anything else besides Mortkranken's assistance! We are the only ones who are qualified to undo your curse once and for all! And yet, you still mingle with those Frostheimers…” he clenched his fists.

“Yuri, I think you're forgetting the fact that I chose not to go to the ball and spend my night here organizing your books.” you wiggled a book on your hand to make your point clearer, fully turning towards him.

That little detail seemed to have finally been processed in Yuri's mind right after you said it.

He went silent, staring at you with narrowed eyes. As if he didn't trust you yet. As if you could stab him in the back as soon as he turned around.

You sighed, putting the book on the shelf and then resting your hands on your hips.

“Why are you so angry at them for throwing a ball? You know they always do that.”

He didn't know why he was angry, actually. It was like Frostheim was a trigger word for him. He heard it and fury just freely ran through his veins like molten iron. It burned and hurt because he didn't know why it felt like that.

He just did.

It wasn't in Yuri's nature to be quiet. To be speechless. And when he didn't answer your question, you knew something deep, deeper than you could reach, had been brewing for too long.

He stood still like a statue, mouth pressed in a thin line as he turned your question around in his mind, like he would an unsolved rubrik cube. Only this time, he wasn't able to finish it in record time like he used to finish all of his real cubes.

You took a deep breath.

“Look.” you snapped him out of his daze “I'm gonna prove to you that balls are boring and that you aren't missing anything.”

You knew he wasn't upset because of FOMO, but seeing him struggle with his thoughts like that made you pity him just a little bit. So you would pretend, for now.

You went to his desk and grabbed your phone, scrolling through something.

“What are you planning to do?” he observed your movements, still as tense as ever.

“What's your favorite song again? It's The Blue Danube Waltz, by Strauss isn't it?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes… I'm surprised a worm like you knows classical music and– no, what does this have to do with anything?” he asked, baffled at the sudden change of topic.

You walked towards him, gaze locked at your phone.

“You like waltzes then. Okay, then this one will have to do.”

You clicked on something on your phone and placed it carefully on one of the bookrack's shelves. Soon enough, some music started playing on the phone's speakers.

Yuri stared dumbly at the hand you were holding out towards him.

“What is this?”

“It's the Masquerade Waltz, by Aram Khachaturian.” You replied flatly, shoving your hand closer to his face.

“I- I know that!” Yuri sputtered, defensively “I want to know what you're doing!”

You shrugged, smirking at your own silly idea that seemed to have badly thrown him off “I want to prove to you how balls are kinda stupid when you can very well just waltz as much as you want at home. Come on. Dance with me?”

Yuri blinked, still staring at your hand.

“W-why should I?!”

“Well… you'll have the satisfaction of doing something Jin wanted to do but can't because I'm here.”

He immediately grabbed your hand, all hesitation left behind. You laughed and restarted the song.

“You better dance properly, worm!”

“I promise nothing.”

Yuri's hands were hot. He had them stuffed in his black gloves like always, but they seemed even warmer against your skin as you held him firmly.

He knew very well all of the waltz etiquette, of course. He was a cultured, refined man who knew how to be a proper partner when dancing with someone in a ballroom. He knew he was supposed to maintain eye contact with his dance partner.

But goddamn it, was it hard to keep looking into your eyes. Even though you weren't always looking at him – as expected of an impolite worm – whenever your eyes met, he felt his insides stir and he wondered in passing if he had to start taking some type of anxiety medication.

Sometimes he'd relax for a second when you looked down at your feet to count 1, 2 ,3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. He used that moment to breathe deeply and then grimace at how shaky his exhale sounded.

His heart drummed inside his ribcage, and he hoped you'd keep your little grubby fingers far away from his radial artery, otherwise you'd feel how fast his heart was beating. He couldn't have you thinking he was nervous. He wasn't nervous! The situation was just… unexpected.

And then you started humming along with the song.

Yuri swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and cleared his throat.

“You… you like this waltz?” he managed to say. He shoved the thought that you sounded cute, humming a song just like he always did, deep, deep inside the corners of his mind.

You widened your eyes for a second.

“Oh! I was humming, wasn't I? Sorry. But yeah, it's my favorite. I guess I can't say I don't understand you when you hum too” you laughed nervously.

The both of you kept on clumsily stepping side to side, front to back, as the song reached its last notes.

Yuri knew the song was ending, and his anxiety peaked. It was like he wanted something to happen – no, like he needed to do something, but he didn't know what it was.

His stomach churned as the song faded out, and your feet came to a halt. Your hand left his own, and so did the one on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of your body leaving him as he forced himself to step back.

You cleared your throat and gave him an exaggerated curtsy, lifting the hem of an imaginary dress.

“Thank you so much for this dance, Lord Isami” you said with a grin, in a fake posh accent.

And after that, it was like he became possessed by some trickster spirit who had it out for him.

Yuri didn't really know what thought process led him to suddenly grab your shoulders and awkwardly place his lips on your forehead, but when you gasped under him, he finally came back to his senses.

“GAH! I don't know why I did that!” he yelled, taking a few long steps back and away from you.

He stared at his own hands, like they were monsters with a life of their own. Some cruel, awful things that made him act on an impulse he didn't even know he had.

His thoughts ran wild and tumbled one over the other, each and every one yelling some reasoning for his stupid actions and turning his mind into a deafening cacophony that made his head fuzzy and his ears ring.

“Um...” you voiced out, and Yuri finally looked at you again, quickly halting his spiral towards a panic attack. His eyes fluttered, taking in the sight in front of him.

You covered your cheeks with your hands, looking to the side as you pressed your lips in a thin line. Yuri swore he could see the ghost of a smile on the corner of your lips, gone in the blink of an eye.

Yuri was screwed. That immediately became the only thought that blared inside his brain after looking at you, all flustered and embarrassed.

“I'm screwed” he murmured unconsciously and you had the gall to chuckle.

“Sorry?” you asked, a smile warming your voice in a way that made Yuri dizzy.

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“You can go to your quarters now. Continue your work here later.” he announced, secretly celebrating how his voice sounded stable again.

You slowly grabbed your phone, still smiling like you knew something he didn't. Preposterous.

“Okay.” you replied, without much protest.

Yuri watched as you picked up the rest of your belongings and made the way towards his door.

“I hope I convinced you of all that stuff we talked about, by the way. See you tomorrow, Yuri” you said, looking over your shoulder before you left.

Yuri had absolutely no idea of what you were even talking about. All he knew was that his room was hot. He felt incredibly hot and his heart still hammered mercilessly inside his ribs. Was he having a heat stroke? Yeah, maybe it was that. Maybe he was having a heat stroke because you made him dance and sweat when he didn't need to.

He looked at the thermometer under his AC.

It read 5°C/40°F.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #yuri isami #tokyo debunker yuri isami #drabble event #ask

164 notes · View notes

honeybadger16 · 1 year ago

Text

Honey Badger in the Lion's Den

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader x Dan Riccciardo

Warnings: smut, threesomes, fmm, swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: Maxiel is real, prove me wrong. Let me know what you think about the pairing, I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Being the girlfriend of Max Verstappen has its perks: traveling all around the world, attending luxurious parties, and grabbing the attention of a certain Australian driver who can't stop staring at you and Max.

You and Max had been dating for two years, and enjoyed every second of it. From traveling around the world to attending the most luxurious parties, Max made sure you were always comfortable and happy during the busy racing season. For him, most weekends consisted of tough practice sessions and grueling workouts.

You made it your mission to help him relax when necessary in order to prevent burn out. This consisted of massages or venting sessions before bed. If it was a particularly bad day rough sex in the bed or shower was usually the solution.

This weekend you arrived in Australia, just as Max and Daniel were doing media duties. You couldn't imagine any serious answers were given as the two drivers loved to mess with other during interviews. Watching the two interact from a screen there was no denying Max's boy crush on Daniel. This had been a long running joke online between fans, but it wasn't far from the truth. Max had been idolizing Daniel since they first met, and considered him a best friend. Max would never tell a soul, but whenever his imagination ran loose, the idea of Daniel on top of you made his pants get tighter. He thinks to himself it's wrong to imagine his girlfriend with another man, but it's just a harmless fantasy right?

Australia had been a total disaster for Max, not finishing the race due a gas leak was the last thing any driver wants on Sundays. Daniel had finished 6th, a respectable position considering he was driving in a shitty McLaren tractor-like car. Max was still in a bad mood as night fell on the racing city. Most drivers wanted to go clubbing and celebrate their earned points, including Daniel.

That's when the two of you heard knocking on the hotel door around 10 P.M. Opening the door you find Daniel's signature smile pulling you into a hug. "Hey y/n I haven't had a chance to say hi all weekend, how are you?" You responded by giving him a recap of the shops you visited and the restaurants you tried- his recommendations of course. Max hadn't looked up from his phone, not in the mood to match the Australian's cheery mood. "Are you guys coming out with us? The club we picked has the best champagne."

Max responds by telling him he's too tired to go out tonight and to have fun without him. Daniel could see through Max's bullshit response and looks over to you for an explanation. You shrug your shoulders not exactly sure what to say. Usually when Max had a rough race, him fucking your brains out helped him feel better. That's when you thought of an idea to cheer up Max. It was risky and could ruin one of the closest relationships Max had, but you were positive it would exciting.

Leaning closer to Max, you whisper, "what if we let Daniel watch as I suck your cock?" Max turns quickly around to face you, turning red in the cheeks, "what?" You snake your hand to palm his crouch, already hardening. You turn to face Daniel who's eyes glaze over with desire as he stares intently at the two of you sitting down on the chair nearby. "I think he also wants to watch me take you in my mouth."

Kissing up Max's neck, you unzip his pants and continue to palm his hard cock through his boxers. Max had given in to the pleasure and began making louder noises in response to your touches. You could hear the zip of Daniel's pants as he takes his semi-hard cock out beginning to slowly stroke it.

You decided it was enough teasing for one night and helped Max take off the article of clothing that was separating your mouth and his cock. He was already painfully hard, his tip was colored brightly red, begging for some sort of relief. You began at the bottom licking the shaft and taking his balls in the hands, avoiding the head. "Fuck-please take it all in y/n." You could see how much pre-cum had collected on top of his cock and collected it all on your tongue.

Max soon becomes confused as you get up and walk over to Daniel. He can only watch as you sat on you on one of Daniel's thighs and connected your lips together. After releasing your mouths apart you ask, "How does Max taste?"

"Like fucking Heaven" Daniel is quick to putting his hands on your shirt tugging it off of you. He was pleased to see you opted for a braless outfit as he began to fondle your breasts, kissing you once again. Max began to notice your hips moving against the Australian's thighs, in an attempt to give your clit some attention. Your hands found Daniel's cock and began rubbing him until he was fully erect.

Max thought he had died and was in his personal Heaven, this scenario only played out in his head when he was jerking off by himself, giving him the most intense orgasms. Yet, here they were, his girlfriend and best friend making out as Max got unbelievably harder. He could see y/n whispered something to Daniel as they both got up to remove the remaining pieces of clothing they both had on.

You came up to Max, while Daniel came from the back. Stroking his cock Max let his head fall back onto Daniel's chest. "That's it baby keep going" You however had another idea. You took one of Daniel's hands and placed it on Max's cock, molding it to go up and down the shaft. Max opened his eyes and began grunting louder turning to face Daniel. The two began to make out as Max was reaching closer to his orgasm. Daniel's lips tasted like the pre-game vodka he drank before he knocked on their door. Even though the taste of alcohol lingered on Max's lips he could get drunk on the feeling of having Daniel so close to him only. Why hadn't they done this sooner?

You removed Daniel's hand and instructed Max to lay down as you climbed on top of him and began rubbing his cock on your wet pussy. Finally, you push yourself down, having to adjust to his size no matter how many times you take him inside you. Riding on Max's cock you take Daniel in your mouth moving up and down. Sounds of moans and grunts could be heard as the three of you reach closer to the end.

Max moves his hips at the same time as yours to reach into deeper and faster. Max's cock curves perfectly into you pushing on your walls as you bounce on him in a faster, more desperate pace. He takes his fingers and rubs your clit, "come with me y/n." With the combination of Max deep inside you and stimulation on your clit, you explode first, Max following soon after. The two of you feel as Max's cum fills you up to the brim.

Daniel grabs your head and brings it down on his cock until your nose pressed against his abdomen. "Shit I'm going to cum." He pulls you off and releases his cum onto your lips and face, groaning as waves of pleasure ripple through his body.

You pull off of Max when Daniel puts you on your back, legs open towards him. Max's cum had started dripping out of you when Daniel began licking at your pussy. Throwing your head back in pleasure you couldn't believe you were close to cumming again so soon. He stuck his tongue inside of you licking up all of Max's cum and swallowing it. You finally reached your end as you tugged on Daniel's dark locks and made eye contact with him. As you rode through your second orgasm of the night, you noticed Max had gone to the bathroom and brought water and washcloths for the three of you.

Still breathing hard, you sat up on the bed and accepted the water giving a soft thanks, while Daniel helped clean you up. The room was silent, but comforting. Daniel and Max put on their boxers once more, while you wore one of Max's shirts. In the middle of the bed Max welcomed the embraces of both you and Daniel. He first kissed you also whispering a soft thank-you. He turned to Daniel and kissed him tenderly as the older man accepted the show of affection. Cuddling up all together the three of you drift to sleep, not worrying about the questions you would receive the next day from the other drivers about your absence.

#max verstappen #max verstappen smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #maxiel #maxiel smut #max verstappen x reader

1K notes · View notes

lucidlivi · 4 months ago

Text

she calls me daddy now

popping in with the supernatural/true blood crossover you didn't know you needed!

Warning: not suited for minors, strong language, sexual innuendos, sex, slight threesome, violence, blood, gore, major character death, blood drinking, blood draining, mentions of death, staking, vampire burning, major angst, heartbroken Dean

I will be working on other prompt requests soon but I had this idea and didn’t want to lose it, I hope you guys love it as much as I do!

A switch in viewpoints will be indicate in bold italics

Reader

"Fangtasia? really?" I snort glancing at the boys beside me.

"Leeches with a sense of humor.. great." Dean grumbles.

"So much for mainstreaming, Louisiana has one of the highest disappearance rates in the country... 346 people in this last month alone. You and I both know what really happened to them." Sam says looking at the news article on his cellphone.

"And you're sure we're going to find help here?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"I mean there has to be some sort of order to things, even for vampires.'" I shrugged.

"And since we're not scoring a date with the vampire queen , one of her pawns should work just fine." Sam said as I watched the eager humans line up to get in to the famous vampire bar.

It's been years now since vampires exposed themselves to the world.

Of course we already knew of their existence.

However, with the invention of synthetic blood the vamps decided they wanted to become part of society, mainstream they call it.

It took the world by storm.

People were lining up to meet and more disgustingly volunteer to get bitten by a vampire.

It was sickening.

As you can imagine this did not go over well with the hunting community.

It was a question on everyone's mind.

Could vamps really change?

Could they be functioning members of a society?

In Louisiana the answer was no.

"I still don't like this." Dean growled as we took our place in line for entrance to the bar.

"No one does, but we have to try to work out some sort of treaty, some sort of peace between us and them, too many people are dying." Sam said.

Oh Sammy.

As if peace between vampires and humans was possible.

We were a meal to them, nothing more.

I could feel Dean's anxiety pushing in to me, making me anxious.

I grabbed his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. He was quick to lace our fingers together pulling me closer to him.

He instantly calmed a bit.

Dean and I had an interesting relationship.

Sam, he was like my annoying little brother.

But not Dean.

Dean and I shared a connection that went deeper.

He and I just got each other.

We weren't what you would call a thing though.

A hunter's life didn't afford us that privilege.

I knew that no matter what we would always look out for each other and if something were to happen to one of us, the other would never be the same.

It was a terrifying feeling in our line of work, since a brush with death was a daily occurrence for us.

As we got closer to the door I slipped my hand from Dean's.

I could see a lady at the door taking ID's, and from her too straight posture and her perfect looks I could tell she was one of them.

I had seen a vampire or two in my lifetime so they were easy for me to spot.

I felt the air shift as we got closer, causing me to pull my leather jacket tighter around my body.

"ID." she ordered extending her perfectly manicured hand towards me, her eyes focused elsewhere.

I sized her up, trying to guess her age. If I had to I'd say definitely over 100 years old.

She looked experienced, which is how you could tell a vampire's true age.

After a moment of stillness she finally glanced up meeting my eyes.

She glared at me, as if I was beneath her.

I simply stared back at her.

She flashed her fangs willing me to fall at her feet in submission.

I could feel Dean tense behind me, ready to pounce if needed.

"ID." She ordered once again with a southern drawl.

I gave her a forced smile, pulling out a fake ID card.

If she knew it was fake, she didn't say anything, just let me pass. Sam and Dean were let in without showing ID much to my annoyance.

As soon as we were past the rope, the woman at the door disappeared.

I could smell the stench of sex, sweat, and booze as the doors to the bar opened.

If I thought the name was ridiculous, the inside was even more ridiculous. It was decorated in reds and blacks, really selling the vampire theme.

I scoffed at the patrons who were clad in leather and lace. It was like they were proud to be flaunting their flesh for the bloodsuckers.

Perhaps though the most ridiculous and tacky thing was the throne in the middle of the stage overlooking the bar.

My eyes traveled up the throne before connecting with a pair of icy blue ones.

Suddenly it was as if I was being pulled into some sort of trance.

His eyes boring into my own.

I quickly broke eye contact taking a moment to take in his other features.

A mess of blonde locks lay on his head.

His jaw perfectly defined along with his other facial features.

His hands that were gripping the arm rests of the throne, large and lethal.

He was frighteningly tall, even taller than Sam, and he was basically Bigfoot.

It was however the smirk that played on his lips that made my blood boil.

He knew what I was, just as I knew what he was.

A vampire.

Just the pawn we were looking for.

I noticed the perfect blonde woman from the door suddenly at his side, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

I could see her glance in our direction.

She was trying to be discreet but I was on to her.

She was warning him.

Warning him about us.

I didn't get to see anything else as Dean pulled me towards a booth in the back.

I took this moment to study the people.

It was sickening seeing so many vampires and humans mingling like they weren't bloodthirsty monsters, and the humans eager to be their next meal.

"So I think the big blonde guy is who we need to talk to." Sam said looking between me and Dean.

I rolled my eyes.

Is he serious right now?

"Really Sam what gave you that idea huh? The throne in the middle of the stage? The way all the other vampires flock to him? Or, or maybe it’s the fact that he's glaring daggers at us right about now." I sassed feeling the blonde's eyes burning me from behind.

"Okay so what's the plan then, I don't think he's going to talk to us willingly." Dean said ignoring my attitude.

"Well maybe not us." Sam said pointing between himself and Dean.

Dean looked around seeing the blonde man's eyes devouring my form.

"No absolutely not." Dean interjected quickly.

"Dean, it may be our only shot I seemed to have peaked his interest." I said turning my body fully towards him.

"We can figure something else out then, this is reckless and you know that." Dean growled.

"I know but I don't think we have that kind of time, people are dying Dean, people we swore to protect." I shot back.

"Yeah well I swore to protect you." Dean gutted.

"So then protect me." I said rising from my seat.

Dean was not happy, that much was evident on his face. I couldn't focus on that right now though. I was doing this.

I took a deep breath straightening out my jacket.

I slowly approached the throne, center stage.I could see people eyeing me with envy. I was only focused on the vamp, whose eyes grew more curious the closer I got.

I was about to take another step but was halted by another man, who I could tell was also a vampire.

"Sorry no one speaks to Mr. Northman without his permission." He growled at me.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at this.

Who the hell did this vamp think he was, god?

"Chow, let her through." A strong voice spoke.

It didn't take me long to figure out it came from the vampire on the throne.

The man grumbled something under his breath before stepping to the side.

I took another deep breath striding in front of the blonde man.

"Mr. Northman I presume?"

"Please, call me Eric, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" He smirked.

I thought for a minute if I should make up some fake name.

"And mind you I can tell if you're lying." He added, somehow reading my thoughts.

"y/n." I offered only my first name.

"What I can I do for you y/n?" He asked interested, as if I was going to offer him my neck.

"I think you know why we're here." I stated crossing my arms in front of myself as if it would put more distant between me and Eric.

"Yes unfortunately , it was only a matter of time before you hunters showed up."

"We wouldn't have to if you leeches kept yourselves in check." I bit back quickly.

"Well aren't you sweet." Eric smirked.

"Yeah not really."

I knew I should probably watch my tongue in a bar full of vampires. However, when my anger got the best of me, I couldn’t control the things that spilled from my lips.

"You have no idea who you're talking to do you?" Eric laughed, standing to his full height.

He towered over my short stature easily.

I wouldn't let him intimidate me though which is exactly what he was trying to do.

"So enlighten me then Mr. Northman."

"I'm a thousand year old viking darling, I'm not threatened by you or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not here to threaten you, I'm here to help you." I retorted quickly, acting unfazed by the declaration of his true age.

My statement resulted in another laugh from the viking vampire.

"Help me? Now what in that pretty little head of yours makes you think I need, or want your help." He whispered menacingly, clearly trying to threaten me.

I would have been a little more afraid had I not noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows as he spoke.

He was worried about something.

My guess, pressure from his boss to solve his little vampire problem.

Order.

Creatures couldn't function without it.

I couldn't fight the smirk that made it's way to my face.

"I think you're worried, 346 bodies is a lot of bodies to hide, I mean we know that they didn’t really disappear did they? Also isn't it your job to keep all these vampires in line? I'm guessing a bunch of rogue vampires going on a killing spree doesn’t exactly fair well with your boss." I taunted.

I knew I pushed it too far when his fangs popped out with a click.

He quickly wrapped a hand around my throat causing Dean to shoot up, pulling out his gun loaded with ultraviolet emitting bullets.

If Eric saw him, he was completely unfazed by his actions.

I gave Dean a look, telling him to wait before he starts blindly shooting in a room full of vampires.

I could handle myself well, Dean knew as much.

“Don’t you tell me how to do my job.” he growled his hand squeezing a little tighter around my throat.

"Do your job then." I spat, pushing him a little further.

Eric then looked deeply in my orbs as his glazed over.

He spoke in an enchanting voice.

"Now you and your little gang of hunters are going to leave my bar, but before you go, you're going to let me taste you while your boyfriend over there watches me."

I knew what he was trying to do.

He was trying to what they call "glamor" me.

Get in my head.

Control me and my thoughts.

No man controls me.

"No offense Mr. Northman but you're not really my type." I managed to squeak out, his hand still squeezing my throat.

Eric quickly released my neck with a confused look.

"Why can't I glamor you?" He growled in frustration.

I quickly turned around, pulling my shirt up slightly so he could see the anti-possession tattoo in the center of my spine.

"Turns out this isn’t just for demons, works for your mind tricks too. Eric this is my final offer, let us help you or we're gonna handle things our way, and then you'll have a lot more bodies to dispose of. We’ll be in town, it’s your choice." I threatened before turning away from the vampire.

I could tell he didn't take kindly to my threats but he didn't retaliate surprisingly, given his nature.

I could see the relief wash over Dean's face as I returned to his side.

"Looks like we aren't getting his help, let's go." I said knowing full well Eric could still hear me.

Dean tucked his gun away roughly grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bar.

I could tell by his face that he was trying his best not to explode.

He was irate.

As soon as we were in the impala the floodgates opened and all hell let loose.

"Wow you've done a lot of stupid shit in the past but that has to be the most fucked thing you've ever done, what the hell were you thinking?" Dean growled.

I wasn't sure if it was directed at Sam for suggesting I talk to Eric alone or me for actually doing it.

“Dean come on it’s…” Sam started but Dean quickly cut him off.

“Stay out of this Sam.” Dean growled.

I guess now I knew it was directed at me.

“You can’t be serious right now?” I scoffed at his behavior.

“He could have snapped you like a twig, you gave him every opportunity.” Dean snapped.

I knew this was his way of saying he was worried about me but l didn’t like how he was going about it.

“I can handle myself.” I said with an eye roll.

“I mean what was your plan exactly? Badmouth him until he sinks his fangs in to your neck? You had no plan going up there, that was so irresponsible.” Dean continued.

“Yeah well he didn’t hurt me did he?” I scoffed.

“Your lucky he didn’t, you just act without thinking about the consequences.” He retorted.

“Yeah well sometimes you think too much and don’t act.”

“At least you don’t have to continuously save my ass!” He growled.

“Ugh would you stop treating me like a child!” I said my voice rising along with my anger.

“I will when you stop acting like one!” Dean yelled.

I rolled my eyes again, sinking back in to the seat. I was done talking about this. It was no use anyways.

I knew Eric wouldn’t hurt me.

I don’t know how I knew, I just did. He wouldn’t admit it but he needed our help.

I was extremely thankful to be pulling in to the motel parking lot. I jumped out of the car before Dean could bring it to a complete stop, slamming the door in a fit.

I could hear Dean throwing open his door and quickly striding up to catch me.

“We are not done talking about this.” He growled grabbing my wrist.

“I am.” I seethed snatching my wrist from him.

I walked in to my separate motel room, slamming the door in his face.

God!

Dean didn’t usually yell at me, I had no idea where all this was coming from.

"Fuck!" I screamed, before quickly stripping my clothes wanting to wash away this evening and everything it brought.

I turned on the shower, steam instantly filling the bathroom.

I stepped in, the hot water relaxing my tense muscles.

What the hell was up with Dean?

Why was he acting so, so possessive?

He knew I was strong enough to handle my own, yet he was treating me as if I were some stupid kid walking in to the lions den unprepared.

I knew how to kill vampires, this wasn’t my first rodeo.

I was angrily scrubbing my body and hair, too caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear my motel room door opening, or the bathroom door for that matter.

I washed the shampoo from my hair before noticing Dean’s presence. It made me jump but only momentarily. He was standing on the other side of the shower curtain, his shoulders slumped over.

“I said I was done talking about it Dean.” I bit quickly.

I was expecting him to start yelling at me again, tell me how stupid I was being, but Dean didn’t say anything instead just stayed quiet.

"Dean?" I asked softening my tone.

Dean was never quiet.

Only when he was in his head about something.

Like I said we just got each other.

It was a moment before he spoke.

“You have no idea how worried I was for you, fuck y/n why do you care so little about your life when to me it’s everything?” Dean said, his voice being overtaken with emotion.

My breathing stilled at his words. I felt tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

Dean wasn’t the vulnerable type, never admitting how he was truly feeling, but here he was laying it all out.

Before thinking I flung open the shower curtain looking at him. His eyebrows were creased with worry and hurt.

I suddenly felt extremely guilty.

I didn’t want to hurt him.

That was the last thing I wanted to do.

Dean was my person.

I jumped out and flung my arms around him, soaking his t-shirt. He didn't seem to mind much as he wrapped his strong arms around me holding me tightly to his body.

I buried my head in the crook of his neck, allowing a few tears to cascade down my cheeks. His hand found its way to the back of my head stroking my wet hair.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I spoke quietly.

Dean’s hand traveled down to the back of my neck, pulling my head up so he could look in my eyes.

Dean and I didn't need words to convey our feelings.

Our eyes alone did just that.

I could feel the heat spreading to my core as his eyes devoured me hungrily.

Dean and I didn't cross this line often.

In fact only once before.

It was a dangerous line to be flirting with.

But in this moment, I didn't care.

Dean didn't either, for a moment later he was crashing his lips on mine.

His lips had a petal softness to them, but he kissed like a man that had been starved for months.

I balled his t-shirt in my fists pulling him impossibly closer. Dean's hand gripped my neck harder as if I was about to float away and he was the only thing holding me down.

I broke away but only briefly to suck in a harsh breath.

Dean pulled me back in again, devouring my lips.

He kissed me as if I was oxygen and he was dying to breathe.

I couldn't help the breathless moans that fell from my lips as I felt Dean's trapped erection on my already burning center.

I wanted more.

Needed more.

"Dean." I panted, hoping he would catch on.

Dean didn't bother teasing. He picked me up quickly kicking the bathroom door open, before gently placing me on the run down motel bed.

He was quick to dispose of his shirt.

I trailed my eyes down his body.

Dean was the kind of handsome that got into my bones, that spoke to me before he'd even said a word.

I licked my lips as I admired him.

I sat up on the bed, not being able to stop my self from placing my lips on his perfectly chiseled jaw. He let out a guttural sound as my tongue worked down to his neck, kissing and sucking, marking him as mine.

He quickly disposed of his jeans, freeing himself at last. He gently pushed me back down hovering his body over mine.

Dean looked at me as if he applied too much pressure I might break.

He trailed his hand down my body painfully slow, stopping to brush gently over my aching core. I sucked in my bottom lip to try to stop the needy whine that wished to escape but I was too late.

I needed to feel him, all of him.

Dean leaned down once again kissing my lips tenderly.

"I promise." Dean whispered pulling away gently.

I shook my head in confusion.

"Promise?" I breathed out.

"I promise to make up for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you." Dean rasped.

I felt my eyes prickle with tears.

I grabbed his head bringing his lips back to my own.

I don't think I'll ever get over the feeling I get when kissing Dean, it was warm, it was safe, it was everything I needed, because with Dean, sometimes kissing felt like healing.

Dean grabbed his erection, slowly rubbing his tip up and down my folds, torturing me with pleasure.

He grunted pushing himself through my slickness all without breaking our hungry kiss.

Dean thrusted at a tortuously slow pace, hitting my sweet spot with every movement. Dean buried his head into my neck, heavenly groans fell from his lips.

I moaned a little louder with each slow thrust.

I couldn't take anymore, I rolled my hips up meeting his.

Dean pushed himself even deeper, causing a sensual whine out of me.

"So pretty when you're whining for me."

I could barely think straight from the fire burning in my veins. I closed my eyes digging my nails slightly in to his skin.

“Oh fuck Dean right there.” I moaned feeling my orgasm making itself known.

I could feel myself clenching around him causing him to cry out in pleasure.

“Good girl baby, cum for me.” Dean whispered in a husky voice.

His tone and praise alone was enough to have me soaking his length, my walls contracting all around him.

Dean began to thrust harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. When his rhythm became sloppy I knew he was close.

Dean gave one last deep thrust before I felt white hot spurts of liquid coating my still sensitive walls.

Just when I thought Dean couldn’t get more attractive, here he was looking like a god as he groaned, riding out his orgasm.

I could cum again just from the sight of it.

Dean slowly removed himself, satisfied when his seed spilled out coating my thighs.

"I think you're gonna need another shower." Dean smirked.

Yep.

Dean was back.

I was about to make my usual snarky comment but a loud knocking on the door got my attention.

I thought it might be Sam coming to check on me, he has been on the receiving end of Dean’s wrath more than once.

I threw on a shirt and some sleep shorts before peeling the door open slowly.

I was not prepared to see Eric Northman behind it.

"You know for hunters you really need to cover your tracks better, wasn't all that hard to track you down, not with that sweet aroma you carry around." Eric smirked pompously.

I could hear Dean shuffling as he rushed putting his clothes back on.

He was suddenly at my side ripping the door open and glaring down the viking vampire in front of me.

It was the first time I saw them toe to toe.

Eric was definitely taller but Dean was unfazed by his size.

Dean was nothing to mess with either. He was lethal in his own right, and had more blood on his hands then he liked to think about.

"Now if you're done fucking your play thing, I'd like to talk." Eric said completely ignoring Dean’s threatening demeanor.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

Oh god he heard that?

Of course he did, fucking super hearing ability.

"I think that opportunity has passed, we're no longer interested." Dean growled slamming the door but Eric’s vampire speed won out and he caught it seamlessly.

"If you could do me a favor sweets and calm your guard dog here, I believe you and I can help each other." Eric said once again ignoring Dean completely.

"I thought you said you didn't need or want my help?" I finally spoke, feeling my anger rising again.

"Oh don't be smug, it's humbling enough having to come to a breather for help." Eric said rolling his eyes.

I could feel Dean stiffen beside me.

He didn't trust Eric that much was obvious.

I didn't trust him either.

I was realistic though, and I knew our odds would be better with him on our side instead of in our way.

"Hypothetically speaking of course, let's say I was still interested in helping you, what then?" I inquired.

Dean growled from beside me.

“Excuse us for a moment." Dean said through clenched teeth, shutting the door, this time Eric allowing him to.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath preparing his lecture but I quickly cut him off before he could deliver it.

"Look before you yell, let's be realistic here, I think we're in way over our heads and having Eric on our side instead of in our way is an asset, even if I don't trust him, keep your enemies closer right?"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed knowing he couldn't argue with my logic.

"You were mad before because I didn't have plan, this time I do." I promised.

Dean placed a gentle hand to my cheek pulling my lips to his.

He knew Eric would be listening behind the door.

He wanted to make it known I was his.

I would definitely have to unpack this situation later.

Dean removed his lips resting his forehead on mine.

"Fine we can talk." Dean reluctantly agreed.

I gave him a small smile as I opened the door, seeing Eric standing there looking completely uninterested in Dean's show of affection.

"So then let's talk." I said nodding my head at Eric.

"Just you, no offense but I don’t think your guard dog will fit in with where we’re going, also you might want to shower first, if you’re going to be with me I can’t have you smelling of another man, and one more tip try not to look so much like a hunter, I’ll be back in thirty.” Eric ordered before speeding away.

“Fuck this, no way in hell am I letting you go anywhere alone with him.” Dean said.

“The idea doesn’t thrill me either but I’m just going to need you to trust me.” I said quickly going towards the bathroom.

Dean didn’t say anything instead followed behind me sulking. He shed his clothes stepping in the shower after me.

He huffed pouting as he took his hand washing his seed away from my body. I moaned as his fingers dipped in my folds cleansing me.

“I can trust you if you promise me you won’t do anything reckless, I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt and I wasn’t there to help.” Dean said.

I quickly turned around facing him.

“I promise you Dean, nothing reckless.” I said standing on my toes to place a soft kiss to his mouth.

I finished washing myself quickly, then stepped out and towel dried myself.

I looked in my suitcase trying to find clothes that didn’t scream hunter. I settled for a sundress, this made me look more innocent, more naive.

Exactly thirty minutes later on the dot their was another harsh knock at the door. I took a deep breath opening it. Eric stood smirking behind it, clearly trying to provoke Dean. He let his eyes drift up and down my form very noticeably.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you almost look normal.” Eric joked, that ever present cocky smile still on his face.

Dean wrapped a protective arm around me.

“I swear if you fucking hurt her..” Dean started but Eric cut him off.

“Down boy, she’ll be fine, besides I already ate this evening, though I wouldn’t say no to some dessert.” Eric taunted him.

I rolled my eyes at the pair.

I quickly turned around grabbing Deans shirt bringing him in for a feverish kiss.

Dean smirked in to the kiss hearing Eric sigh in annoyance.

I pulled away letting a hand linger on his cheek.

“I’ll be back.” I assured.

I turned towards Eric ignoring the arm he offered me.

“Well after you.” I gestured.

I saw the the expensive bugatti now parked outside my motel room.

A little over the top I thought, although I guess when you’ve been alive for so long your wealth is vast.

Eric smirked at Dean as he opened the passenger door gesturing for me to get in.

I gave Dean one more soft look before climbing in.

Eric zipped around clambering in the drivers seat. He peeled out of the motel at inhuman speed, making me grip the seat.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked annoyed.

“A tribunal meeting.” Eric simply answered.

“A what?”

“You people really don’t know anything do you?” He jabbed.

“Look if that’s how this is going to be you can just take me back.” I said rolling my eyes.

“You know your cute when you pout.” Eric laughed.

I rolled my eyes again ignoring his flirtatious comment. He was trying to get under my skin, and he was doing a damn good job at it.

“Listen just stay close to me, and don’t talk to anyone but me.” Eric said glancing at me.

“Eric..”

“No this is serious okay, for me to keep you safe you have to listen to me.” He said.

I glanced at his eyes, and for a moment just a moment I saw some of what I believed to be sincerity. It made him almost seem…. human.

“Fine.” I grumbled.

He pulled in to a field in the middle of nowhere.

I really wasn’t thrilled with this idea now.

I took a deep breath feeling the silver dagger Dean slipped in to the waistband of my underwear. It wasn’t much but it could help me out, give me some leverage.

Eric got out zipping around to open my door.

I got out of the car looking fully at the scene.

There were a few other vampires there, most looked pretty ancient. It wasn’t their looks per say, but their demeanor, the way they carried themselves.

I saw a few humans too, one vampire was openly feeding on a girls neck. If I had eaten I was sure it would come back up at the sight. The worst part is the girl moaned as if she was enjoying it.

Eric smirked as he wrapped an arm around my waist leading me towards the group of vampires.

"Remember what I said, be a good breather and keep quiet." Eric said.

"Fuck you." I cursed under my breath knowing full well Eric would hear me.

Eric's presence instantly got the attention of a man dressed in an expensive suit.

"Eric welcome, and who is this lovely thing you've brought with you, she smells delectable."

"Easy now magister, she's mine." Eric said.

His?

Oh hell no!

"Yours the fu.." I started but Eric quickly clamped his hand on my mouth.

"My apologies sir, quite the mouth she got on her, though it does come in handy." Eric joked.

I nipped at his hand covering my mouth as if telling him he was really pushing it.

"If you'll excuse us sir.." Eric said leading me away from the man.

As soon as he took his hand off my mouth, I raised my hand to strike him but he quickly caught it.

"Yours? What the fuck was that!? I am not now, nor will I ever be yours!" I growled.

"It's my way of protecting you, it's an unspoken rule for vampires that we can't harm or feed from another vampires claimed human, now that I openly claimed you, nobody can touch you or they have to deal with me."

I was still pissed at him but I shook my head in understanding.

"These guys, they're the authority?"

"Well sort of, we work for them, that guy was the magister, the judge of my kind, if you will. The others are area sheriffs like myself, we keep order in our area, and we're all here to talk about our little problem." Eric explained.

"And the humans are privileged to this information?" I questioned.

"No, you’re here to satiate us, but it doesn't matter what they hear they'll just be glamoured to forget, but since you can't be glamoured you better be good at acting." Eric said.

I nodded my head finally understanding.

I would be the only human to remember this meeting.

He was giving me information, leverage.

Eric was about to say something else when the magister cleared his throat getting the attention of all vampires present.

"Now stay close to me, and for fuck's sake act like you can stand to be near me." Eric whispered once again wrapping a cold arm around my waist.

I knew if Dean were here right now he'd be furious at Eric for even daring to touch me in such an intimate matter.

In fact Dean would probably kill him first and ask questions later.

Eric was right, Dean definitely wouldn't have fit in here.

I didn't fit in here.

I grumbled, leaning in to Eric's side, cozying up to him.

I had to pretend.

It might kill me.

But I had to pretend.

I could feel Eric's stupid smirk without seeing it.

"Stop enjoying this." I growled causing a chuckle to fall from his lips.

"Sheriffs, it's great to see you, unfortunately I wish it could be under better circumstances. You all have been gathered here because as you know your state has managed to gain the attention of the authority, and I can tell you they aren't happy. You were put in a position to keep order, lay low, push the movement along, so please someone tell me why it's a goddamn circus out here?" The guy who I now know as the magister yelled.

I could feel Eric tense beside me, his arm getting a little tighter around me.

I could tell the magister was in a significant position of power even without Eric telling me so.

"Sir it's the newborns, they're insatiable, unsupervised." One vamp spoke up.

"And who's fault is that, isn't it your job to handle problem vampires?"

"You wish us to kill our own’s progeny's?" Another quipped.

"Do you dare defy my order?" The magister threatened.

"No sir."

I was taking in all the new information.

It seemed that new vampires were being made, "progeny's" and being left unsupervised after their creation.

It was not only reckless, it was cruel.

"Well maybe the humans have it coming, all they've ever done is hunt us down and lynch us." A vampire beside us spoke.

I glance at him.

He was tall, not as tall as Eric but tall none the less.

He clearly thought he was holier then thou.

I guess he hadn’t come face to face with hunters yet.

"I mean we do kind of deserve it." Eric spoke, surprising me a great deal.

I didn't think he was capable of any compassion towards what he calls “breathers.”

"Wow I can't believe my ears, Eric Northman, the ruthless viking prince suddenly gets himself a human bitch and now he's mr. mainstream?" The vampire spoke turning and taking a step towards us.

Eric let out a warning growl.

"I would watch your next words sheriff, I’m not known for my patience." Eric said baring his fangs.

His hold on me got tighter, if that were possible, I was already trapped against his body as it was.

I could feel the tensions rising as both vampires hissed at each other.

I took my hand squeezing Eric's.

I was surprised when I felt him calm slightly.

It was a simple gesture that always worked for Dean, and seemingly Eric too.

It was a little way of wordlessly saying “I’m here, I got you.”

"ENOUGH both of you! Eric’s right, we all knew coming out of the coffin there would be risks involved, if you can't keep order the authority will come and eradicate your regions."

Eradicate?

As in kill them all?

I was all for killing vampires, but that seems a little excessive.

I worried for Eric.

Wait.

What the fuck am I saying?

I don't worry about vampires.

Vampires are nothing but killing machines.

They don’t have feelings.

Or do they?

I don’t know what I believed anymore in this moment.

"With all due respect magister this is complete bullshit." the previous vampire spoke again.

I could see the magister getting visibly angry.

"We are apex predators, the top of the food chain, and you expect us to just lay down and take it from a bunch of blood bags?" He continued.

I could feel myself getting heated at his words.

He was the epitome of the vampires we killed.

No regard for human life whatsoever.

"We don’t take it, we learn to control ourselves there’s a difference." The magister corrects.

He was all about pushing the mainstreaming movement along, that much was clear, but he could care less about humans as long as all killings and feedings were done in secrecy and done so as not to draw too much attention.

He was just another two faced authoritarian, pushing something he could care less about.

"You and the authority are out of your goddamn minds if you think..." He started.

In an instant the magister zipped over to him, producing a wooden stake before driving it straight through the vampires heart. The vampire exploded sending guts flying everywhere.

Eric quickly turned us around so I wasn’t hit by the debris but he was.

I let out a shaking breath as blood splattered the side of his face.

I didn’t think I would be getting this close to vampire politics tonight.

I was officially over it.

Eric looked in my eyes as if assuring me everything was alright.

The magister wiped some vampire guts from his suit before turning back to everyone.

“I think we’ve all learned our lesson yes?”

No one dared to speak so the magister continued.

“You,” he said pointing at one vampire, “clean up this mess’ and you,” he said now turning to Eric who was cleaning the blood from his face, “glamor your human and then come with me.”

Eric turned to me giving me a look, guess now it was time to put on an act.

How does one even act glamoured? A mindless zombie I guessed.

He stared at me with that glazed look in his eyes, the same one from the bar. He also had something else in there, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was; mischief maybe?

Next came his enchanting voice.

“y/n.”

“Yes.” I spoke quietly as if I was under his spell.

“Nothing happened here tonight, you don’t remember any other vampires being here, you don’t remember anything that was said, do you understand?” Eric ordered.

“Nothing happened here.” I repeated.

“Good…” Eric smirked pompously. “Now kiss me and wait in the car like the good little breather you are.”

I felt my insides boiling.

What the hell was he doing?

He knew I couldn’t say no to him.

It was either that or blow my cover to the magister.

I trusted my skills but not enough to take out an ancient vampire with a simple silver dagger, not while so many others were around.

I realized I was already taking too much time to think. If I didn’t act soon it was over, I was made.

I glared at Eric with furious eyes before leaning in.

He grabbed the back of my neck joining our lips.

I kissed him back with much reserve but he didn’t seem to notice.

He however kissed me gently to my surprise.

In fact he was kind of good at kissing.

What the fuck?

Shut up brain!

This was a vampire for fucks sake!

I willed the moment to be over but Eric was taking his sweet time tasting my mouth.

As we were kissing I tasted something metallic on my tongue.

I knew that taste.

Blood.

I swear if he bit me, I don’t care who’s watching I’ll kill him.

I was confused when Eric pulled away and it wasn’t my lip that was bleeding but his own.

It was his blood?

I quickly turned around walking back to his car as instructed.

I was trying to soak in all the information.

At least now we knew what we were up against.

A bunch of unsupervised baby vamps.

Great.

Eric came back moments later getting in the car. I held my breath until we were far enough away from the field before speaking my thoughts.

“I don’t understand, why are there unsupervised baby vampires allowed to run amok, they need to be taught, isn’t that a little cruel, illegal?”

“It’s unfortunate not every vampire has such a responsible maker.” Eric answered.

“And your maker?” I wondered.

I heard the vampire call Eric a viking prince, I wondered just how he came to be what he was now.

He hesitated a moment before he spoke.

“Godric, he’s gone, he saved me from dying on a battlefield.”

I scoffed a little catching his attention but kept my comment to myself, further annoying Eric.

“Go ahead, say what you want to say.” Eric pushed.

“I don’t know how he saved you, making you crave blood to survive, making you a slave to the night, making you practically immortal, I mean that has to be really lonely, eventually everyone you know will be gone and then it’ll just be you.” I said glancing at him.

“It’s a good thing I don’t care for mortals then.”

“I don’t believe that.” I quipped.

“And I don’t believe you actually hate vampires, I saw how you reacted when the magister spoke of the authority eradicating our regions.” Eric pushed back.

“About that, can they actually do that?” I asked.

If vampires had enough power to eradicate entire regions I think we had bigger problems to worry about then a bunch of baby vamps.

“Yes, they can and they will if the problem isn’t solved.” Eric said slowly pulling back in the motel parking lot.

“So what do we do about it so that doesn’t happen?” I asked turning my body towards him.

“We?”

“Just shut up, and tell me!” I said rolling my eyes at him again.

“I guess the only thing we can do, go on a hunting trip. If we can’t control them we have to eradicate them.” Eric said.

“Alright we’ll be ready then.”

“You and your dog can meet me at fangtasia tomorrow night, sunset, we’ll formulate a plan from there.” Eric nodded.

“Sunset.” I confirmed turning to get out of the car.

“Oh Eric, one more thing.” I said turning back around.

Before he could realize what was happening I balled my fist, sending it flying in to his nose. I heard a satisfying crunch as it connected.

“ If you ever trick me into kissing you again, I’ll kill you myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smirked getting out of the car.

“You broke my nose!” Eric yelled out the window.

“Eh your a vampire, you’ll heal.” I shrugged, glancing once more at him.

“I know I’m a vampire but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He growled pushing his nose back in to position.

“Goodnight Eric.” I called one final time.

Eric rolled his eyes before peeling out of the parking lot, the sound getting Dean’s attention. He flung open the door pulling me to his chest. He inspected my body for any signs of injury but found none.

“Dean it’s okay, I’m okay.” I said placing a hand on his cheek.

I took him inside telling him everything that happened.

Well almost everything.

I left out the kissing part.

It would just further cause problems between the two, and besides I handled it.

He groaned when I told him we’d be seeing Eric tomorrow night.

He didn’t want to work with him but he agreed with me, that if we didn’t take care of this little problem we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands, i.e. an authority of ancient vampires that could eradicate entire populations.

“It’s nearly dawn, we should get some sleep.” Dean said stroking a hand through my hair.

I looked at Dean’s face, he had a slight crease in his forehead that only showed up when he was worrying about something.

“Dean what is it?” I asked.

“Who’s to say we don’t help him and then he turns right around and tries to kills us? I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.” Dean says sincerely.

“I know your worried but I don’t think he’ll try anything, he needs our help, besides he had every opportunity to kill me tonight, but he didn’t. Instead he gave us some pretty valuable information, which I’m suspecting he could get staked for if someone found out.” I said my mind traveling to the blonde haired vampire.

I had no idea why he was on my mind right now.

“Are you concerned for him?” Dean asked a look of jealousy and disgust on his face.

When I didn’t answer immediately, Dean continued.

“He’s a killer y/n, a leech, you can’t seriously be worrying about him?” Dean growled.

“I’m not.” I told a half lie.

“What is it then?” Dean pushed.

“It’s just everything might not be as black and white as we think that’s all.” I said trying to carefully chose my words.

“I mean they drink human blood to survive how is there any grey area in that?” Dean retorted.

“Some of them didn’t ask for this life, you know they thought they were being saved..” I trailed off thinking of the story Eric told me of his creation.

“It doesn’t change what they are.” Dean said.

I shrugged my shoulders. I guess he was right. At the end of the day they would still be feeding on humans to survive.

We were prey to them.

“I think we should get some sleep.” I said leaning up and pecking his lips quickly.

Dean was not satisfied with how we ended things but he didn’t push further to which I was thankful. Instead he pulled me in closer so my head was laying on his chest.

I felt the exhaustion starting to take a toll on my body, and the darkness starting to envelop me.

I reached my hand up to touch Dean but was surprised to feel the space empty.

Suddenly fingers were hooked in to my sleep shorts pulling them slowly down my legs. I groaned as lips kissed tenderly up my thigh, making my core burn with pleasure. I cast my eyes downward, meeting a pair of green ones.

“Dean.” I moaned as his head dipped down, his breath fanning over my center.

I didn’t know how Dean slipped down there without me noticing but right now I didn’t care.

Instead of devouring me like I wanted, his lips trailed back down to my thigh.

I could feel my blood pumping with need and desire.

“Beg me for it.” Dean commanded.

Didn’t need to tell me twice.

“Oh god please Dean.” I begged running my hands through his hair.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my thigh.

I gasped looking down but instead of Dean, Eric was there with extended fangs, licking blood off his lips

What the fuck is going on?

Am I dreaming?

I’ve got to be dreaming.

A million questions surged through my head.

How?

When?

Why?

“Eric?” I blushed trying to hide my body from him.

“The femoral artery, like the jugular if pierced wrong can cause you to bleed out in mere minutes.” Eric said licking my thigh.

I looked down realizing blood was seeping out from too little pin pricks. I could feel my heart start to race but it wasn’t from fear… rather excitement.

What was wrong with me?

Was I turned on by this?

“It is indeed the best place to draw blood, so pleasurable and not just for me.” Eric said dipping his head back down, sinking his fangs in to my thigh.

I threw my head back with a moan as Eric drank my blood. His long fingers trailed up my thigh, dipping in to my folds that were already slick with arousal.

Oh god this was so wrong.

But it felt so good I didn’t want to stop.

But Dean?

Fuck!

As I was about to push Eric away, I felt lips against my neck, a hand trailing down my shirt to play with my hardened nipples.

I sat up a little seeing Dean now behind me.

Okay now I know I am in fact dreaming. These two can’t even be in the same room together, let alone take turns pleasuring me.

Eric removed his fangs and started to devour my core, his tongue working expertly up and down my folds.

“Oh god.” I moaned, biting my lip.

Dean trailed his fingers down further and started rubbing circles on my bundle of nerves, making my body writhe with pleasure.

“Mmm such a good girl, wouldn’t you agree Eric?” Dean whispered with a husky tone that made my legs shake.

"Mmm, the best girl.” Eric said removing his mouth from my folds momentarily before diving back in.

I felt the coil in my stomach winding tighter and tighter, begging to spring free. The sensation of Eric devouring me with his mouth while Dean worked me with his fingers was too much to bare. I was so close and then….

I sprang up, gasping for air.

The room was still dark, however sunlight started filtering through the curtains.

I guessed it was just after sunrise.

I looked to my left seeing Dean sound asleep. Eric was nowhere to be found.

“Of course not dummy, he’s dead during the day” my brain screamed at me.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead trying to calm my racing heart.

Why in the fuck would I dream of Eric pleasuring me?

Dean makes sense but Eric?

Eric?

A thousand year old vampire?

What the fuck was wrong with me!?

The worst part is he bit me, he bit me and I enjoyed it.

I deduced I was in need of some serious therapy and counseling.

I took a few deep breaths before laying back down next to Dean. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours before finally succumbing to pure exhaustion.

I woke up to a hand running through my hair. I was hesitant to open my eyes, my dream still at the forefront of my mind.

I was relieved when all I saw was Dean.

“It’s almost sunset.” Dean said placing a soft kiss to my forehead.

I groaned in response causing Dean to laugh.

“I’m not looking forward to this either.” Dean said getting out of the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

I sat up stretching my limbs. I was dreading having to face Eric after the impure dream I had about him.

I was still struggling to understand why I was dreaming about him in that way. I mean sure he was attractive, but he was a monster and I was the one who hunted him.

I didn’t realize how long I sat there in my head until Dean was coming out of the bathroom freshly showered.

I quickly collected myself so I didn't look like a mess.

Dean could NOT find out about this.

I rushed in to the bathroom turning on the cold water. I splashed my face a couple times trying to calm my shaking hands.

Fuck.

Get it together.

I stepped out getting dressed for the night. Dean was already ready to go, reloading uv bullets in both guns.

“Sam?” I asked lacing my boots.

“He’s keeping the police off our backs for now, he’ll meet up with us later.” Dean said tossing me my weapon.

I grabbed some colloidal sliver as well as a couple silver daggers.

“Alright, let’s do this.” I sighed.

Dean grabbed my hand pulling me to his chest.

“If shit goes down, you get out, and I’ll come find you.” Dean said placing a gentle hand on my cheek.

“You and I both know that isn’t happening, we’re in this together, until the end.” I said looking deeply in his eyes.

Dean leaned down capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

I wished desperately we could just stay in this moment but that was a fairytale and our lives were anything but. It was more like a constant nightmare if you asked me.

Dean pulled away giving me a silent nod.

It didn’t take us long until we were sat in the fangtasia parking lot.

“If he tries anything, I will kill him.” Dean said pulling the safety off his gun.

“I know you will, you’ve only been chomping at the bullet to since we’ve met him.” I said mimicking his actions.

Dean shrugged knowing I wasn’t wrong. I saw the blonde lady from before opening the door. I guess that was our invitation to go in. I tucked away my gun, climbing out of the impala.

“Oh great they’re back.” The blonde lady spat sarcastically.

“It’s nice to see you again too.” I bit back.

“Pam, play nice now, these humans are here to help us.”

I gulped as soon as I heard his voice.

My mind flooded with the images of him tucked between my legs, my blood dripping off his fangs.

Dean must’ve noticed my unease. He put a hand on the small of my back giving me a reassuring pat.

I pushed past the blonde lady, Pam I now knew was her name, and I walked in to the empty bar. It sure looked a lot different with the lights on. Eric once again was sitting on his ridiculous throne. He smirked at me as soon as our eyes connected.

Dean was quick to catch up with me.

He stood so his shoulder was slightly blocking me from Eric.

“So what’s the plan?” Dean growled.

“Oh no formal introductions, straight to the point huh.” Eric taunted looking at me.

“Eric please, save the jokes, let’s get this over with.” I sighed.

“I for one had a great time last night.” Eric smirked.

I glared at him, silently telling him to shut up.

Dean didn't know about the kiss, and if he found out now, he'd kill Eric and then maybe me.

“Well except for that little part where you broke my nose.” He said.

As he said this the blonde lady flashed her fangs at me. Dean immediately shifted pulling his gun and aiming it at Pam.

“Pam stand down.” Eric commanded.

Pam was protective of him, that was abundantly clear.

I was starting to put the pieces together.

Pam was his progeny.

He created her just as Godric created him.

Dean slowly lowered his gun once there was no threat to me anymore. He gave me a incredulous look as I hadn’t told him that part of the story.

“It looks to me you healed just fine, now please let’s get on with it.” I sassed him.

“As you wish, follow me.” Eric said standing from the throne.

“Where?” Dean quickly ordered.

“What you don’t trust me?” Eric taunted him.

“I don’t trust bloodsuckers no.” Dean retorted.

“Ha, I could snap you in half in just a matter of seconds” Eric threatened.

“I’d really like to see you try, give me a reason to fry you.” Dean growled cocking his gun.

Ugh these two were incorrigible.

“Ok enough of the dick swinging contest are we doing this or not?” I asked rolling my eyes at the men.

I could see Pam for once in agreement with me.

I gestured for Eric to show us what he wanted to. He walked down a hallway leading us to a stairwell.

“Is this your dungeon or something?” I joked.

“Yes.” Eric answered seriously.

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

“You first.” Dean growled not trusting Eric to go behind him.

“Guests first, I insist.” Eric said opening the door.

“Seriously?” I groaned, pushing past both men, and starting to walk down the steps.

I heard footsteps following behind me, they weren’t heavy like Dean’s so I knew they were Eric’s. He was close behind me.

I felt a chill run down my spine the closer he got.

“So, tell me y/n have any good dreams lately?” Eric whispered in my ear.

I about lost my footing, as my face went pale.

He knew?

How the fuck did he know that?

I quickly pulled myself together, I wouldn’t let him get under my skin.

“Yes in fact, Dean was in all of them.” I bit back.

“I bet he was.” Eric smirked.

I could hear some low growling sounds as we got to the bottom of the stairs.

He wasn’t kidding it really was a dungeon down here.

I felt Dean once again at my side.

Eric disappeared for a moment pulling a lever.

I heard the growling get louder, a vampire descended from the ceiling suspended by silver chains.

He thrashed around trying to break free, the silver burning his skin as he did so.

“I found this one feeding on a human right outside my bar, he’s new, not yet a month old.” Eric said.

“A newborn, I’m guessing his maker is nowhere to be found.” I said eyeing up the vamp.

He looked weak, I would guess he’d been down here for a few days, starved of blood.”

“Oh on the contraire, his maker is very much around, in fact he’s responsible for the surge of newborns, that’s where we need to go.” Eric said.

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“We’ve been spending a lot of quality time together lately.” Eric joked.

“Where’s his maker?” Dean asked.

“Only thing I can’t get out of him. What do you think she’s for?” Eric asked nodding at me.

Dean was quick to put an arm out in front of me.

Before Dean could protest Eric spoke.

“Tell me guard dog do you know her blood type?” Eric asked Dean.

“AB Negative.” Dean answered quickly.

I was a little shocked that he knew that, but I guess I had to be given blood a time or two since we started hunting.

“Yes, the rarest of all blood types, a delicious treat for a vampire, a treat that is very very hard to resist.” Eric answered.

Oh great so basically I was crack for vampires.

“I’m not giving any of my blood.” I growled.

“Oh you won’t have to.” Eric said stepping closer to me. “Just your scent alone will drive him mad.” Eric added inhaling.

“Fine.” I said rolling my eyes.

“If it even moves an inch, I’m shooting.” Dean says taking aim at the newborn vampire.

I took a few steps closer to the still thrashing vampire.

Eric was right, as soon as I was within distance, his fangs popped, his neck craned to hiss at me.

“I don’t think you want to do that.” I warned.

He hissed again in response.

“See that gun, it’s loaded with uv administering bullets, it’ll feel like the sun is invading every part of your body, it will be a most unpleasant sensation.” I explained.

Dean aimed the gun a little higher, waiting for the vampire to make a wrong move.

“Don’t make him have to use it, all you have to do is tell us where your maker resides, and all this can go away.”

“Fuck all of you.” The vampire spat.

“Why are you protecting him?” I asked circling him.

“He’s my master.” He answered.

“Well he clearly doesn’t care about you, he left you to fend for yourself.” I pushed.

“He released you?” Eric questioned coming closer to me.

“Yes.” The vampire answered.

“You are no longer his problem then.” Eric said.

“You have no loyalty to him.” I added.

“Shut up all of you please.” The vampire cried out.

Eric and I were trying to break him down, and it was working.

“He wouldn’t care if we killed you right here right now, in fact he wouldn’t even think twice about it.” Eric pushed farther.

“In fact he’ll probably just make another to take your place, it’ll be like you never existed.” I said.

“I think we’ll go ahead and do just that.” Eric said popping out his fangs.

“Alright stop, please I’ll tell you, just don’t kill me”.

Eric gave me a satisfied look before going in the newborn’s face.

“Where is he?” Eric growled.

“He’s got a whole nest next to the old cemetery, he’s stashing humans there to feed us. Please now let me go, I did what you wanted.” He begged.

“You’ve been a great help.” Eric said putting his hand through the newborns chest producing his heart.

I could see betrayal flash on the newborns features as blood seeped from his mouth.

I turned away as Eric crushed his heart in his hand, causing the newborn to explode in to pieces.

“Was that necessary?” I asked kicking a chunk of vampire guts away from me.

“Yes, he broke the law so he must suffer the true death. It was either this or let your boyfriend fry him from the inside, I gave him a quick way out.” Eric said.

I took a deep breath, I needed to get out of here, the smell of vampire guts was starting to make me sick. I ran up the stairs, hearing both men trailing behind me.

“You mortals have such weak stomach’s.” Eric said going behind the bar.

He quickly produced a glass of water for me. I took it gratefully, choosing to ignore his comment.

“I need to go call Sam.” Dean said.

“I’ll be fine, go ahead.” I nodded.

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Dean said glaring at Eric.

“If I wanted to kill either of you I would’ve done it by now.” Eric shrugs.

“Yeah well I’m still debating about killing you.” Dean said.

“For once we agree on something.” Eric retorted.

“For the love of god both of you stop acting like children!” I said slamming my hand down on the bar top.

I walked to the other side of the bar taking a seat in an empty booth. I was tired of the back and forth. Dean gave me a apologetic look before stepping out to call Sam.

I rolled my eyes as Eric joined me in the booth.

“What do you want now?” I groaned.

“Quite a temper he’s got on him.” Eric said.

“I can see you got your own guard dog.” I said nodding my head towards Pam who looked like she wanted to rip my head off for even daring to breathe the same air as her maker.

“Yes Pam, she’s my..” He started.

“Your progeny.” I cut him off.

“How did you know that?”

“I’m not completely dim Eric, I put the pieces together. I saw how you looked when talking about your maker, it’s the same way Pam looks at you.” I shrugged.

“Jealous?” Eric smirked.

“Did you save her too?” I asked ignoring his comment.

“Yes in fact I did. I didn’t set out to create Pam, but if I didn’t turn her she was going to die, and Pam had a hard life, I thought she deserved a little good.” Eric spoke tenderly.

“I guess you didn’t leave her at least.” I said.

“I never would, I made her this way, it’s my responsibility to look out for her, teach her, just as Godric did me.” Eric said.

“Hmm so you can insightful, good to know.” I said offering him a nod.

“You never answered my question earlier, any good dreams lately?” Eric smirked.

I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

“I guess you’ll never know.” I shrugged.

“I have a feeling your boyfriend doesn’t know either.” Eric pushed.

“Okay I’m debating on killing you now.” I said annoyed.

“It’s okay if you did dream of me, I mean it is a side effect of taking my blood after all.” Eric said nonchalantly leaning back in the seat.

I spit out the water I was drinking as the words left his lips.

“Wait what?”

I don’t remember taking his blood.

I remembered then the kiss, when I pulled away Eric had blood on his lip.

“You see when we kissed, I accidentally cut my lip on my fang and you drank some of my blood. It was what allowed you to break my nose, it gave you a boost of strength. Unfortunately it does come with a few side effects.” Eric explained.

Accidentally?

I somehow didn’t believe that.

“You mean when you forced me to kiss you.” I growled.

“Ah yes forgot about that little detail.”

“Yeah what else did you forget to tell me?” I asked balling my fists.

“You see now that you have my blood inside you, I’ll be able to locate you quickly, and I can feel the things you feel. In return your innately more attracted to me, dreaming of me. You and I are bonded now.” Eric explained.

I suddenly felt very violated.

“I didn’t want that, I didn’t want any of this.” I bit.

Eric chuckled and leaned in close.

“Oh come on you’re not fooling anyone.” He whispered.

I could feel my heartbeat uptick just from his proximity to me. I couldn’t control it, it was as if it completely shut my brain out and was thinking on its own.

“I don’t want anything to do with you, in fact I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over so I never have to see you again.” I growled.

“I think you’re forgetting I feel what you feel, I know that’s a lie.” Eric said sliding a little closer.

“It’s not.” I defended.

“I know you want me.” Eric said placing one of his large hands on my thigh.

I sucked in a sharp breath trying to calm myself.

“You want me just as much as I want you.” Eric added trailing his hand upwards.

I quickly jumped up causing his hand to fall.

“Sorry you’re dead wrong I love Dean.” I growled walking away from him.

I was relieved when Dean came back. I quickly walked over to him wrapping my arms around him. He was surprised for a minute but hugged me back.

I can’t believe I admitted my love for Dean, to Eric of all people.

I seriously needed some therapy now.

“Sam’s going to meet us there.” Dean said.

I nodded my head.

“Let us get a few things and we’ll meet you there.” I nodded to Eric.

“No chance, I’m coming with you. I don’t trust you mortals either.” Eric said grabbing his jacket.

I guess that was fair.

“Eric, I’m coming with you.” Pam spoke.

“No Pam, I need you to stay here and handle opening. I’ll be fine don’t worry about me.” Eric said walking over to her and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Pam gave me a look, one that said if he gets hurt you’re dead.

I gave her a silent nod that it would be fine. I wouldn’t let Dean kill him.

I might still kill him, but Dean won’t.

Eric followed us back to the impala.

I opened the trunk where we stored all our weapons, or most of them at least. I grabbed a silencer putting it on the end of my pistol, the last thing we needed was to attract more attention.

I grabbed some silver chains as well as some silver bullets in case we ran out of the uv ones. I grabbed a wooden stake, before turning back around.

“Really?” Eric asked rolling his eyes.

“I would stay out of the crossfire if I was you.” I threatened.

Dean smirked as he shut the trunk.

Eric zipped to the old cemetery while Dean and I drove. I could see headlights at the entrance belonging to Sam.

It was eerily quiet.

Eric led the way as Sam, Dean and I aimed our guns, taking in our surroundings.

We walked a few steps seeing and hearing nothing.

“I don’t think anyone’s here.” Sam said.

Of course as he said that, a newborn came out of the dark and lunged towards my neck.

Eric was faster and caught the newborn by the neck while Dean shot a bullet through it’s chest. It immediately sank to the ground in agonizing pain as the uv bullet pulsed in its chest.

As if on queue we were surrounded by insatiable newborns, all looking for one thing, our blood.

I took a deep breath.

“Dog, keep her close, her smell will drive them mad.” Eric said pushing me closer to Dean.

Dean gave Eric an almost silent thank you.

It was as if they were suddenly given a silent command to attack, the newborns rushed towards us fangs bared. I fired multiple rounds finding a different target each time.

I could feel my ears ringing from the gunshots as well as the wailing of newborns who were being fried by the uv bullets.

I stumbled crashing in to Eric.

He caught me quickly standing me up on my feet.

I ran out of bullets shortly after, having to resort to the stake and silver daggers. I was wrestling with a particularly strong vampire, my silver dagger doing little to deter it’s advances. I lost my footing falling to the ground with the vampire. I held an arm to it’s throat keeping it’s fangs away from my face.

It was getting harder and harder to hold it back. I suddenly felt blood splatter on my face as a wooden stake stuck out of the vampires chest.

“Oh fuck.” I heard the vampire groan before exploding.

Dean quickly picked me up brushing me off.

“Dean watch out.” I called.

A vampire was approaching him quickly.

But this one wasn’t a newborn.

It moved far better, it was more experienced.

It was the maker we had been looking for.

And it was coming straight for Dean.

I didn’t know what I was doing until I was already moving.

I quickly shoved Dean out of harm’s way.

I felt a hand go around my neck and teeth sink in to my flesh.. and then I felt nothing.

Dean

“Dean watch out.” I heard her voice call.

Before I had time to react I was being shoved to the side. I looked up to see a vampire grab her by the neck and sink his teeth in to her throat.

“No!” I screamed, grabbing my gun and firing six or seven silver bullets in to it’s chest.

Eric noticed the commotion and ran up behind the vampire pulling it’s heart out ultimately ending it.

I quickly ran over as y/n slumped to the ground, her hand going up to try and cauterize her wound. I quickly replaced her hand with my own, putting as much pressure as I could to stop the bleeding. I felt the tears already welling up in my eyes as the blood gushed from her neck despite the pressure I applied.

“Dean.” I heard her gasp, her eyes filling with tears.

I was soon joined by Sam.

“Dean, her jugular is severed, what do we do.” Sam panicked.

I didn’t know what to do.

She was losing too much blood too fast.

I let out a sob running my other hand down her cheek.

“It’s okay baby don’t worry, you’re going to be okay.” I sobbed kissing her forehead.

“Dean it’s okay I’m not afraid.”

How could she say it’s okay.

Nothing is okay!

“It’s not okay, please just hang on.” I cried.

“Dean, I’m in the arms of my first love, I’m with the only man I’ve ever loved, I’m okay.” I could hear her choke barely getting it out.

She loved me?

It was the words I had been longing to hear for years, but not now.

“I love you too, I love you so much which is why you can’t leave me.” I begged.

I looked over seeing Sam now crying too.

I looked back to her face, noticing it go paler and paler.

My hand was doing little to stop the massive blood loss.

Her eyes slowly fluttered shut as she lost consciousness.

She was dying.

My love, my world, dying in my arms.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I wouldn’t.

I gently laid her down, grabbing my gun.

I pointed it at Eric who was standing there just watching with furrowed brows.

He acted like he was hurt by the situation, like he cared about her.

“Change her.” I growled.

“Dean, you can’t.” Sam said as he started standing up.

“Sit the fuck down Sam.” I screamed at him.

I turned back around to Eric who still hasn’t moved.

“I said fucking change her, now.” I hissed.

He made no movements.

I fired a single silver bullet right in to his shoulder making him hiss in pain.

“I’m not asking again fucking do it.” I screamed.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.” Eric said.

“I don’t care, I’m not losing her, do it.” I said.

I wasn’t thinking straight, all I could think about was that I didn’t want to live without her.

“I don’t even know if it’ll work.” Eric growled getting closer.

“Try, you fucking owe us that much.” I growled.

Eric gave me one last look before sinking his fangs in her neck wound, completely draining her of blood.

I sank to my knees as he bit his wrist forcing it in her mouth.

“I need you to start digging a hole big enough for the both of us.” He said once her heartbeat stopped.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“It’s either that or she dies from sunlight exposure.” He growled dripping more blood in to her mouth.

“Sam go.” I growled.

“Dean you can’t be serious with this?” Sam protested.

“Goddamnit Sam go.” I yelled.

He gave me one last look before running off to dig a hole. Eric finally yanked his wrist away going to help Sam dig. I crawled over to her now lifeless body.

“I’m so sorry baby, this is all my fault.” I sobbed on her chest, not caring that I was getting covered in her blood.

I didn’t protect her.

I should’ve protected her.

It should’ve been me.

“Alright move.” Eric growled pushing me off of her.

I grabbed my gun pointing it at him. I wanted nothing more than to kill him right then and there, but if this worked, she would need him.

He lifted her carefully in his arms jumping down in the hole that was dug. He gently laid her down, before laying down himself and cuddling her body to his chest.

I couldn’t stand the sight,

“Now cover us up. No sunlight can seep through or we’ll both die.” He growled.

“How will I know if it worked?” I said utterly defeated.

“If she wakes up tomorrow night, you’ll know.” Eric said.

I grabbed a shovel dumping dirt over them.

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I buried her.

Once I was sure she was far enough underground I collapsed as my body racked with sobs.

“Dean what did you do?” Sam questions sitting down beside me.

“I don’t know Sam, I couldn’t let her go.” I cried.

“It would’ve been better than this, Dean she wouldn’t want this.” Sam said.

I felt rage cloud over my eyes. I turned around shoving Sam.

“It wouldn’t have been better how can you say that?” I seethed.

“Dean I loved her too.” He started.

“No you didn’t, not like I did.” I whispered.

“So what you’re just going to wait here until tomorrow night?” He scoffed.

“If I have too.” I snapped.

I didn’t care what it took.

I was going to see her again.

“I’m sorry Dean but I can’t be part of this, I won’t.” Sam said.

I didn’t answer him.

If he didn’t want to be apart of this then he can go.

“Dean?” Sam pushed again as if he was going to change my mind.

When I didn’t answer him for the second time he finally left.

I brought my knees to my chest laying down beside the pile of dirt that contained her. I felt as if I died right along with her.

Reader

Am I dead?

Is this what death is like?

A permanent darkness?

I felt something cold and heavy on my body.

Where was I?

I can’t remember anything.

I felt something stir beside me alerting all of my senses.

I tried to move my hand and realized I was surrounded by dirt.

Was I buried alive?

What was going on?

I was panicking now.

I quickly started digging trying to free myself.

I was suddenly being ripped from the dirt by a strong hand.

Moonlight flooded my eyes as I took a sharp breath in.

It however provided no relief to my burning throat.

“It’s okay, everything is okay.” I quickly flipped around seeing a tall blonde.

I felt my memories come back like a flash flood.

Eric. Dean. Vampires. Death.

I died.

But I was still here.

That’s impossible.

Unless….

��I’m a..” I started too stunned to speak.

“A vampire.” Eric finished.

I looked at him, suddenly feeling a pull towards him, an unexplainable urge to protect and care for him.

I realized then that he was my maker.

He did this to me.

“I don’t understand.” I said grabbing my throat that was still burning.

“I saved you, you were dying and I saved you.” Eric said taking a step closer.

I found that my vampire self didn’t want him to step away, I wanted him to take me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay.

“I’m so..”

“Thirsty, I know, I’m going to take care of you.” Eric said.

Thirsty.

For blood.

I craved blood.

It made me sick, but I needed it.

Eric was about to take me away when a voice caught my attention.

“y/n?”

Dean

I laid by the freshly dug grave until I could see the sun starting to set.

If this worked she’d be up soon.

Please god let it work.

I sat up when I heard something stirring.

Eric arose out of the grave, eyes clouding with fury when he saw me standing there.

“You need to leave now.” He growled.

No fucking way.

“I’m not leaving.” I pushed back.

“Look she will be insatiable, and you’re covered in blood, so unless you want her to have your death on her conscience for eternity you’ll leave.” Eric said this time putting his hands on me and shoving me away from the grave.

“It worked?” I asked ignoring his request.

I couldn’t believe it worked.

“I need to see her.” I said, standing my ground.

“I need to feed her, so unless you want to become her meal you’ll leave. This is the last chance I’m offering you!” Eric growled.

I hesitantly backed up.

I didn’t want to torment her new senses.

I sighed before jogging off in to the tree line so I was out of sight.

I watched as Eric stuck his hand in the dirt pulling her out.

She still looked like herself, but everything was more defined now.

I felt my heart break as her eyes looked around terrified.

Oh god..

What did I do?

“It’s okay, everything is okay.” Eric assured her.

Her face contorted with realization.

“I’m a..”

“A vampire.” Eric confirmed for her.

I could see her heartbreaking for just her face.

She didn’t want this.

I did this.

Oh god.

What did I do?

I felt the tears start to cloud my vision.

I was completely selfish.

Sam was right, she didn’t want this. But I wouldn’t listen.

“I’m going to take care of you.” I heard Eric say as he went to leave with her.

I couldn’t let him.

I stepped out of the tree line.

“y/n?”

She quickly whipped around in my direction. I saw her eyebrows contort in pain as she looked at me. Eric grabbed her hand bringing her to his side.

“It’s okay y/n, come here, I’ll help you.” I said taking a step closer.

She didn’t budge. Instead just stared at me with longing eyes.

I heard Eric chuckle making me growl.

“Remember that part where I said you had no idea what you were asking for?” Eric taunted.

“y/n come here.” I said again choosing to ignore him.

“Sorry, she only listens to me, she calls me daddy now.” Eric jabbed.

No.

This was all wrong.

This isn’t what I wanted.

I felt my hands shaking.

What did I do?

Part Two: Coming Soon!

276 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write something about reader having an ED and Harry doesn’t notice at first but then starts to notice And then eventually helps you through it?

Try To Find a Way Back

trigger warning: mentions and direct references to eating disorders. please be cautious if you find this topic triggering

so, i don't know a ton about eating disorders and what it's like for someone who has one to be actively struggling with it, and writing about something i don't completely understand makes me nervous bc i don't want to get it wrong. however, since you asked, i'm going to do my best to write this!

in case anyone is curious, this is the article i referenced while writing

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"I just don't understand what her issue is. If I was in her shoes, I'd get help. It's that simple."

"I don't know if—"

"I mean, it's not like struggling with eating makes her special. Like, everyone has body image issues and we just deal with it. Harry will probably break up with her because of all the reassurance she needs. Poor guy probably didn't know what he got himself into when he asked her out. God what a headache for him."

You backed up slowly, not wanting to hear the conversation that was so clearly about you anymore. You'd gone to grab drinks for yourself and who you thought were your friends, but now your hands were shaking so hard you worried the contents in the two wine glasses would come spilling out, glass shattering to the floor. Your heart pounded in your chest, bile rising in your throat. Finding the nearest server walking around with an empty tray and, you set the glasses down before booking it out of the club.

Tears were already starting to pool in your eyes as you ordered an Uber to take you home. Phoebe was one of Harry's friends, but she'd been kind to you since the day he introduced you to her and the rest of his close knit group of friends he'd had for years. You'd been incredibly nervous. You were an outsider, not a model or a writer or a musician or an actor. You weren't extraordinarily talented or beautiful, you were just...you.

None of that seemed to matter to Harry, though. He'd been nothing but flirtatious since the moment he met you. Well, once he was able to look past his nerves. He'd been a bit of a stuttering mess at first, and it wasn't until an hour into talking to him where he really got comfortable enough to flirt, and flirt he did.

It took not one, not two, but three tries to get you to go out with him, your insecurities getting in the way the first two times. But that had been a few months ago, and now you were pretty sure you were in love with him, except now you knew his friends hated you.

She doesn't understand, you thought. It isn't so black and white. You would love to just fix yourself, to make yourself see a doctor, seek help. But eating disorders were a behavioral disease, and when you were in the thick of it, it was hard to shake. You'd told Phoebe about your struggles with your weight and eating disorder in confidence, thinking she was someone you could confide in, only to find her mocking your pain behind your back to someone else, and now you didn't know what to do.

Your phone buzzed with a text message, and you tensed when you saw who it was from.

Bubbie: hey where'd you run off to?

You: not feeling well. heading home

Bubbie: why didn't you say anything? let me take you home

Wiping away a tear, you typed out a text. In most cases, being around Harry would've brought you comfort, but right now, you just wanted to be alone. You couldn't let him see you like this, so unsteady.

You: it's ok. enjoy your first night back with your friends. kissies xx

*.*

You'd been avoiding Harry for the last week and a half. Phoebe's words sent you into a bit of a tailspin, and shame kept you from speaking to him, not wanting to involve him in your issues. Because you realized Phoebe was right. To some extent. You should've been able to ask for help, you should've been able to tell Harry how much you were really struggling, but your shame kept you from reaching out to anyone or asking for help, along with the desire to keep up your habits, which created a toxic cycle.

"It seems like this boy is doing you more harm than good, honey," your mom said over the phone. She was the only one you told about what you overheard Phoebe say.

"He's not the problem, Mom. I just—"

"You were doing so well up until you started seeing him. I just don't want you to slip again. I worry about you, and if being with that boy is causing you problems, then you need to look at the bigger picture."

Her heart was in the right place, it really was. Your mom had been there for a lot of your darkest moments and was rightfully protective of you and your health. But Harry really wasn't the problem. He'd never made you feel like you needed to change your body for him, it was quite the opposite in fact. He constantly praised the way you looked, and not because you needed reassurance or asked him to, despite Phoebe's assumptions. He just really thought you were beautiful.

"I can't just live my life alone, Mom," you said eventually, not wanting to admit more. "He makes me happy."

You heard your mom sigh, but she thankfully didn't press the matter further, even though you knew she had lots to say. She always had lots to say where your boyfriend was concerned. The last thing she said on the matter was, "Just...be careful."

Once you hung up the phone, you fell back against your bed for a few minutes before standing up and walking to your kitchen. A trip to the grocery store was in order, just based on the meager items in your pantry and refrigerator—pasta and no sauce, cereal but no milk, veggies but they weren't organic, and did you really need the family size bag of Doritos—

You took a breath, willing those thoughts away. You were fine. You were just upset about what Phoebe had said about you, nothing more. "It's just the grocery store," you murmured. "You go all the time."

*.*

The grocery store had never looked bigger. There were too many labels, too many colors, too many brands making promises of health and wellness. Your hands gripped the shopping cart until your knuckles were white, eyes wide as you carefully browsed the aisles. Everyone else was going about their business just fine. You watched as people grabbed what they needed with ease, scratching items off their lists and moving into the next thing.

How did they know which bread to buy? How did they decide on a cereal? Whole grain or multi grain? They didn't even look at the nutritional facts before putting something in their carts, didn't stop to do the math, counting calories and carbs and grams of sugar against what they already had. How could they just exist without caring about—

Your phone buzzing pulled you from your anxiety-riddled thoughts. With shaking hands, you pulled your phone out of your oversized zip-up, Harry's face popping up with the notification that he was calling you.

"H—Hello?"

"Hey, you! I feel like I haven't heard from you, so I thought I'd call and check in."

You smiled, despite the anxiousness that still had your shoulders tensed. "Sorry, I've been...busy."

"God, me too," Harry said woefully. "But I've let work get in the way far too much this week. I need to see you. Are you free tonight? I can come over and make dinner for the two of us."

The word dinner filled you with dread. That wasn't a good idea right now. The idea of anyone seeing you eat, even Harry, felt terrifying. But what could you do? Saying no would involve having to explain yourself, and you wanted to do that even less.

"I'd love to," you said, all that anxiety coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah? You're in for a treat, I happen to be a fabulous cook."

"Can't wait."

You couldn't even feel excited to see Harry. The dread of having to sit through dinner took up too much space in your mind. You tried to will it away. You liked Harry too much to let your mind get in the way of messing up the good thing you had going.

*.*

A few weeks later, and you were at Harry's house for dinner again, only this time it wasn't just the two of you.

Your date with Harry went better than expected. You picked at your food and pushed it around, shame eating away at you as you lied through your teeth about not feeling very well when Harry asked why you'd hardly eaten anything. He'd been so sweet, making you a cup of tea, laying down with you on his couch to soothe your fake stomach ache, kissing the top of your head and rubbing a hand over your stomach comfortingly.

You felt horrible for lying to him, and you very well couldn't come clean after the fact, but it was better than talking about it. The less you talked about it, the better.

Tonight, you'd been carefully picking at your food again, making sure to take bites that were big enough to look normal and trying not to look like it was making you physically unwell. Each bite was excruciating, your mind telling you not to eat anymore and that you could never exercise all those calories away. It was all you could do to not focus on all the ways you knew how unhealthy this dinner was. It didn't match at all with your diet journal and you'd have to make up for it by—

"—just so hard, don't you think, Y/n?"

"Huh?"

Phoebe smiled at you, but it didn't feel very friendly. You'd avoided talking to her all night so far, had even taken the farthest seat away from her at the table.

"We were talking about how hard it is to live here in LA," she said, gesturing vaguely to the people around her. "It feels like there's a new diet trend every week, and it's just so hard to lose weight while not looking completely anorexic—"

"Phoebe," Harry said tightly, cutting her off before she could finish.

Your grip was tight on your fork, unable to meet anyone in the eye. Did they know? You'd been careful tonight, and any of the other times you'd seen Harry or his friends recently. You didn't want their pity or their questions or their judgement. Nothing would've been worse than the disappointed look on Harry's face, or the look of disgust if he discovered the truth.

That still wasn't enough to stop, though.

"What? I didn't mean to be offensive. I'm just saying how hard it is to get to that perfect size. Y/n knows what I'm talking about. God, I feel like I can taste every calorie I eat, can't you, Y/n?"

"I—Not really," you said meekly. This was not the conversation you wanted to have right now, especially since it felt like you could feel everything you'd eaten tonight, every single bite, sinking to the bottom of your stomach.

"God, I wish I could just throw it up, you know? Then I could eat whatever I want and not feel guilty about it. No more diets, no more counting calories, I could—"

"That's enough," Harry said, voice sounding harder than you'd ever heard it. He glared at Phoebe, whose mouth was still open from stopping mid-sentence. Her eyes were wide with shock as she tried to justify her conversation topic.

"Excuse me," you murmured to Harry, standing up on shaking legs to step away from the table.

"Y/n—"

"I just need to use the restroom," you said, trying your best to talk around the lump in your throat.

You went upstairs to one of the guest bathrooms where you wouldn't be disturbed, though you locked the door to the toilet for good measure. Panic and guilt and self-loathing swirled through you, tears burning your eyes.

For weeks, you told yourself you had it under control. Your behavior was strict, but not worrisome. And effective, too, but that only made guilt and shame mingle with the feeling of success. Your jeans were loose, but you took to wearing baggy clothes so no one would notice. The scale in your bathroom got lower, but it never seemed low enough. Your stomach was taught, rib cage starting to poke through skin, but that just made you feel even worse about yourself and how quickly things escalated. It was a neverending cycle, but as you continued to lean over the toilet, you told yourself it would be just this once. Just this once and you wouldn't do it again. Just this once—

"Y/n? Can you let me in?"

Tears fell harder when you heard his voice. You couldn't let him see you like this. You couldn't face the humiliation, how disappointed he'd be when he realized—

"Y/n, open the door, or I'll break it down, I swear to God," Harry said with urgency in his voice.

Wiping your eye and then your mouth, you stood up, trembling as you turned the lock. You opened your mouth, unsure if an apology or an explanation would come tumbling out of your lips. But Harry pulled you to his chest before you could say a thing. You couldn't help the sobs that wracked your body as he held you up. His hand held the back of your head fiercely, but not harshly, the other one pushing you as close to him as he could.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've said something sooner. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't realize—I never should've—I'm so sorry."

You didn't find out what Harry thought he shouldn't have done because he rested on top of your head, kissing you repeatedly. He squeezed you so tight, as if he worried you would slip away if he didn't. You couldn't focus on anything else but your own emotions, too ashamed at being caught and guilty for having slipped so far in the first place.

"I was okay," you sobbed. "I thought I was okay. I thought—I thought I could control it."

Harry finally leaned away from you, just enough so he could hold your face in his hands and look you in the eye. "This is not your fault. Do you understand? It's not your fault."

More tears streamed down your face, but Harry's thumbs were there to wipe them away. His eyes roved over your face, searching for something, but you didn't know what. Eventually, he said, "There's so much I want to say, but I think for now...I think you should rest."

You agreed, so you didn't try to object. You were exhausted, just wanted the whole evening to evaporate into thin air. You didn't even care if Harry's friends were still in the house or not, you just wanted all the thoughts in your head—the ones still screaming at you to finish what you started and the ones begging you to let Harry help—to stop.

"I just want it to stop," you mumbled.

Harry rested his forehead against yours, breathing in deep. "I know."

*.*

"You're doing so well, love."

It didn't feel like it. In fact, you felt the exact opposite of well. But Harry was holding your hand as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store, his encouragement pushing you to take each step. "I don't think I can do this today."

"What did your eating disorder say to make you think that?" Harry murmured, causing you to grumble under your breath, but it did the trick. You took another step and grabbed the jar of pesto off the shelf.

He'd been doing that a lot recently. Ever since you came back from the treatment facility, he talked about your eating disorder as if it were a separate person, like it was a little devil with red horns talking over your shoulder and not a disease. It grated on your nerves at first because it made you feel like he was talking down to you, and because he was right. Your eating disorder had been the voice in your head and making you make unhealthy decisions. How he saw it first, you had no idea, you were just thankful he was still here, still with you on your road to recovery.

The trip to the grocery store took longer than it probably should've, especially since you only needed a couple things. But the minute you stepped inside, your body tensed up as you took everything in. It was a struggle not to turn packages over to read the nutritional facts, and even harder to put things in your cart. Today was re-introducing day, which meant eating a meal that had foods you'd actively avoided in the past. It scared the shit out of you, which was why Harry was here.

He'd been incredible, more patient than other people would be. He put up with your mother's harsh words when she blamed him for your relapse, he was there every day he was allowed to visit, and he picked up every phone call when you eventually came home. Whether it was to talk you down or talk about random things that came into his head to distract you from dangerous thoughts, he was there.

You honestly didn't know what you did to deserve him.

"How can I help?" Harry asked when you came to another stop.

"Do we really have to buy the parmesan cheese?" you asked, eyeing the aisle filled with various cheeses with a queasy stomach.

"I think you can do it," Harry said, not entirely answering the question. "I can tell you a story while I put it in the cart for you, if that helps."

"Okay," you said, not really sure if it would.

"Right, let me think for a moment," Harry said, mostly to himself. "Oh. Got it! Okay, so one time I went on this blind date, right? And I normally don't like them because my friends seemed to think I can't function without a partner, which is horribly embarrassing, and I normally have a horrible time, but I went to the bar I agreed to meet this person at, and—"

"What? You hated it?" you asked. Part of you thought it was weird that Harry was talking about a date with someone else, but it was doing its job.

Harry raised his brows at you. "I talk, you push."

You rolled your eyes, but pushed the cart another inch, trying to focus on his voice and not where you were headed.

"As I was saying, I get to the bar, and I'm like, holy shit, because I see the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life, and as I go over to talk to her, someone calls out to me, and I realize the girl I saw wasn't who I wasn't supposed to go on a date with, it was someone else. But I can't just ditch this other girl even though I'm dying to just go over to the girl by the bar, so I stay put and try to engage in conversation and laugh when I think I'm supposed to, but I just—All I could think about was the girl in this cute little mini skirt and vest and what was making her laugh so damn much."

"Mini skirt and vest...at a bar...Wait, you don't mean—You were on a blind date when we met?"

The bar in question wasn't one you frequented. It was an upscale one, and you went because your friend dragged you inside, curious to see if she could get any CEOs to buy her a drink, and you...you were just there to make sure your friend got home okay. But somehow you bumped into Harry, though now you supposed you knew why.

"Not technically," Harry said. "The date was over when I walked up to you, and, well, you know the rest. I charmed the pants off you."

You snorted. "That's not what happened."

You'd known who Harry was when before he introduced himself, it was kind of hard not to. You'd seen music videos and heard his songs on the radio and seen him on your TV more than a handful of times, but it was definitely surprising to see him in person, especially because on screen he seemed so chill and cool and cute, the Harry you met was cute, but he could hardly get a word out.

"Nonsense. I remember it differently," Harry said with a sniff.

"You were so nervous it was so cute," you said, wrapping your arms around one of his while he took a turn with the cart.

Kissing the top of your head, he said, "If that's how you want to remember it, fine. But I do remember talking to you for hours and feeling like no time had passed at all. We closed down the bar, do you remember?"

"Mmhm," you said, nodding against his shoulder. "And then you tried to take me home."

"Can you blame me? I met the girl of my dreams, I couldn't just let you leave."

"You mean that?" you asked, looking up at him.

With everything you'd been through recently, it surprised you to know Harry was still with you. This battle you were fighting was lifelong, and you wouldn't have blamed him for leaving somewhere down the line. You loved him, and it would've hurt like hell, but you would've understood. But he never did, and every time you asked him about it, he just said he wasn't going anywhere.

Eventually, you stopped asking.

"I do," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You did it, love."

"What?" Raising your head off his shoulder, you looked around. You were at checkout, all the items you and Harry set out to buy today sitting in your basket. "We did it."

"You did it, Y/n. I'm so proud of you."

Relief rushed through you. It was one hurdle, just one, but each one was a victory, and Harry was there to help you celebrate each one. It was too public to kiss him, even though you felt the urge to, so you squeezed his hand and kissed the top of it instead.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too," he said, taking you by surprise when he tilted your chin up for a brief kiss. "You ready to check out?"

Anxiety filled your belly once more as the weight of your situation bore down on you once again. Squeezing Harry's hand again, you shook your head.

Harry wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side. The warmth emanating from him was a comfort, and you breathed in deep, letting the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent flood your senses to distract you.

"Don't listen to the disease, Y/n. Listen to me, okay? How about another story?"

You nodded. "Please."

"You're going to be alright, Y/n, I promise," he said.

And maybe you didn't believe him completely now, but you trusted him enough to believe it for you until you did.

#harry styles #harry styles angst #hs angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

764 notes · View notes

lunarlando · 5 months ago

Text

thinking about girl dad!lando 💭

a/n: hello and welcome!!! first ln4 post of many to come hopefully. i have so many more thoughts about this, so if anyone wants to come chat or bring up some headcanons of their own, feel free to pop into my inbox :)

girl dad!lando who can hardly believe his ears when you tell him you're pregnant. he's at the height of his career, and having a baby would be a huge change. he's still young, of course, but when he thinks about who he wants to do life with for the rest of his years, the resounding answer is you. so finding out that in nine months time, you're both going to be bringing a child into the world—one that could quite possibly turn out anything like you—oh, he's over the moon. he doesn't even know if it'll be a girl or a boy yet, but either way, he's beyond excited.

girl dad!lando who hates missing appointments and checkups all the time due to the constrains of his job. he wants to be there with you every single time, but with training and races and all the traveling, it's just not in the cards. occasionally he'll be able to pop in via video chat or phone call, but most of the time you have to update him after all is said and done, and he hates it. he feels guilty that he can't be there for you as often as he wants to. you assure him time and time again that it's okay; as long as your baby is healthy, it's okay. he'll have all the time in the world to spend time with them once they're born.

girl dad!lando who becomes even more excited when you find out you're having a girl. it was one thing to think about this baby and wonder about all the possibilities. it's something entirely different actually knowing. he hopes with all his heart that she looks exactly her mother, and already knows she's got him wrapped around her finger. he does his research too—sends you countless articles from parenting blogs and tries to educate himself on how to be the best parent so his baby girl will thrive as she grows up.

girl dad!lando who absolutely refuses to miss the birth of his daughter. he doesn't care what race week it falls on, doesn't care how much shit he'll get into for missing it, on this he stands entirely firm. nothing will prevent lando from being right beside you the entire time. and when the day does come, it's the first time mclaren has to bring up a reserve driver for him. he's a whirlwind around the house when you tell him it's time to go the hospital, grabbing the baby bag you'd both pre-packed and sending off texts to everyone important, making sure everything is in order before helping you waddle to the car. and much to your annoyance, he's never driven so slowly through monaco as he does on the way there. you're surprised you don't have the baby right there in the car with the way he crawls through the streets at a snail's pace.

girl dad!lando who nearly cries when he first gets to hold his little girl in his arms. she's just so...tiny, compared to him. she latches onto him instantly, little hand curling tight around his finger like she knows he's her papa. in that moment, looking down at this precious thing cradled against his bare chest, he vows to never ever let anyone or anything hurt her, for as long as he lives. it's like his heart has made its way outside his chest and into his hands. he actually does cry when he looks over at you—the one who made all this possible. he knows for a fact he'll never love anyone or anything as much as he loves the two of you.

girl dad!lando who takes a month or so off to spend time with you and baby girl norris and settles into fatherhood surprisingly well. he's the definition of doting dad too, taking care of everything he can so you can rest as much as having a newborn will let you. he also does a massive amount of shopping, even though baby girl norris had already gotten everything a baby could ever need, even before she was born. they ranged from practical items like bottle warmers and value size packs of diapers (thanks to her uncles checo, hulk, and kmag, who knew what parents actually needed) to a copious amount of formula 1 team themed attire (redbull onesies from uncle max, ferrari bibs from uncle charles and uncle carlos, mclaren everything from uncle osc, you name it). stuffed toys, baby books, hats, bibs, even teeny tiny baby sized sunglasses—baby girl norris already has a fan club of aunties and uncles surrounding her.

girl dad!lando who can't sleep sometimes, so he just watches his baby girl sleep, just so he knows she's okay. and when she cries herself awake in the middle of the night, he's right there to soothe her, picking her up, holding her close to his chest, rocking her back and forth gently. he talks to her too—tells her stories about how her mama and papa met, how much you love each other and how much you love her. stories about his family and your own family, about his racing family, his best friends. everyone he loves already loves her too. one time you rouse from your sleep to find his side of the bed and her crib empty, and you almost panic before spotting a faint glow coming from the living room. upon further inspection, you find him doing laps around the sofa, gently pat pat patting her back to get her to sleep again. your heart breaks wide open at the sight of the two loves of your life bonding.

girl dad!lando who gets so nervous the first time you bring baby girl norris to a race. she's a little bit older at this point, old enough to take in all the sights and sounds of the bustling paddock, but still young enough to where she has no idea what's going on. he carries her on his hip, shielding her eyes and ears from the flashing cameras and loud noises, beelining right for mclaren hospitality as quick as he can so she can get settled before he gets too busy. he worries about her constantly—is it too hot or too cold out for her (you've got a cute little romper and a jacket in the baby bag if either is the case), will she get bored (give her a plastic spoon and she'll be entertained for hours), is it too loud for her (mclaren engineering fashioned a custom set of baby sized headphones just for this occasion). you have to be the one to stop him from pacing a hole in the floor and tell him he's got more pressing things to prepare for.

basically girl dad!lando who does his best to be the best dad he can be for his little girl, even though he might not be around as often as he'd like.

#lando thoughts 💭#ln4 #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #dad!lando norris #girl dad!lando norris #lando norris headcanons

311 notes · View notes

literaila · 1 year ago

Note

ughhh i just know peter would take you to that one spot on libraries where couples go makeout

asking

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: peters an idiot, mentions of mono

a/n: welcome to my frat boy peter era

“i’m not studying,” you tell him as he drags you through stacks of books, looking like he’s searching for something he lost.

“aw,” peter turns his head back so you can see him pout. “really? cause i wanted to go over this chemistry thing with you.”

“where are we going, peter? i’m serious.”

“don’t you trust me?” he squeezes your hand, and you make an effort not to smile.

maybe you should squeeze his hand back until you break his fingers.

“not even the slightest.”

“well, you agreed to go on a date with me,” his face embodies a righteous bastard, which he is. “so there’s that.”

“that was a brief lapse in judgement.”

“i think it’s going well, actually,” he whispers, slowing down so that he’s right beside you. so that he can bump into you as he walks, with his long legs and his stupid hand holding.

but there’s something about it that keeps you from teasing back. “were you worried?”

his temple meets yours, vibrating as he speaks. “not in the slightest.”

“really? cause i’ve been trying to irritate you all night.”

“is that why you ordered that weird appetizer thing? and then didn’t eat any of it?”

“it was a bouillabaiss, thank you.”

peter raises a brow at you, but says nothing. his air of judgement is palpable. you lean back, mock shocked at him.

“peter,” you scold, “don’t ever comment on a persons eating habits. it’s rude.”

“i wasn’t. i was telling you that i thoroughly enjoyed paying for it.”

you grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

he’s still pulling you along with him, traveling through a labyrinth of shelves, and you don’t expect him to find whatever he’s looking for. in fact, you’re almost sure that you’ve been walking in circles this whole time.

but eventually, peter slows, and he lets go of your hand only to gesture at the piles of books you’ve rounded the corner to.

seriously, piles. none of them are organized, or even somewhat readable. the carpet in this five by five area is noticeably darker, and when you turn to look behind you—making sure that there is actually a way out—you can’t see anything beyond a shelf that looks like every other one in the library.

“is this supposed to be your kidnapping room?” you whisper to peter, loudly. “because i don’t see any shackles.”

“these,” peter gestures around to the beer bottles you’ve only just noticed on the ground, and the suspicious looking mound in the corner, “are the make-out stacks.”

you blink. “the make-out stacks?”

peter hums, bending down to flip through a book—which is in german, naturally—and then puts it back down.

“please tell me that’s the unofficial title,” you beg him, and then spin around, trying to walk out.

but peter grabs your hand again and pulls you close. “nope. didn’t you read any of the freshman tip articles when you first moved here?”

“no, peter, i’m not a loser.”

“well, i knew about this, and you didn’t so…”

you kick an old wrapper. “do you bring all your dates here?”

“only the pretty ones.”

you scoff, shaking your hand out of his and crossing your arms. “and just what did you want to do here?”

“i’m pretty sure it’s in the name,” peter takes a step closer, making you take a step back—which, ultimately lands you pressed up against a bookshelf probably rotting with mold.

“you’re crazy if you think i’m going to kiss you in here.”

“then i’m crazy,” peters smiling at you, but he doesn’t get any closer. “are you worried about someone seeing?”

“i’m severely worried about my intuition,” you retort, rubbing your finger on the spine of a book beside you, and then wiping the dust on peters face. “i’m pretty sure just breathing the air in here is going to give me mononucleosis.”

peter snorts. “that’s just a rumor.”

you laugh back at him—mockingly—and then push him away. “seriously, peter? are you trying to ruin this date?”

peters’s draw drops, and he stands defensively by the—most likely—christened wall. “this is very romantic.”

“this is basically human torture. standing in here is making me want to jump off the roof.”

“that’s just the sexual tension.”

“ha!” you say, and shake your head as you begin to walk out. “i don’t know if i’m irritated or amused,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but peter is right there.

“c’mon,” he says, picking up the pace to match yours. he’s close again. “i’m trying to help you get to know me.”

“and an essential part of your personality is being a womanizer?”

“i’m an everyoneizer.”

you push his shoulder, trying not to laugh. “this is probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. and i’ve known you long enough to see you do a lot of stupid things.”

peter raises a brow at you. “like what?”

“how about the time you almost set yourself on fire trying to light that grill?”

“it’s not my fault they don’t come with instructions.”

you shake your head, but when peter tries to take your hand, you don’t push him away.

finally, you turn to actually look at him—and brown eyes and stupid blonde hair and stupid smirking peter—and sigh. “no, really. what was that?”

at that, peter looks down, kicking your toe with his shoe. you squint just enough to see his cheeks pink. “i didn’t think you’d appreciate the walking-you-to-your-door-so-i-can-kiss-you-move.”

“so you went with the make-out-spot move?”

“at least you’re apart of a community then,” peter defends, meeting your eyes again. he’s a bit embarrassed, and plenty adorable.

you giggle. “if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve asked.”

“i did.”

“you tried to infect me with unknown bodily fluids,” you correct, “that’s not what i would call asking.”

“hey, i’ve been there plenty of times and i’ve never gotten—“

you push his face away, groaning. “are you actually trying to get me to leave you here?”

peter laughs, grabbing the hand still trying to attack him. “i’m sorry. can i kiss you?”

“not here, playboy. this is a professional environment.”

“there’s a guy over there watching bluey.”

“professional.”

peter sighs. “fine,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “can i kiss you sometime?”

“are you going to buy me dinner again?”

“are you going to order the most expensive thing on the menu?” he asks.

“probably.”

“then yes,” he nudges nose against yours and you really do want to kiss him.

like an insane symptom of stockholm syndrome or frat boy hypnosis.

but you manage not to, and only smile. “c”mon,” you say to him, pulling away, “let’s go find narnia.”

though not before you kiss his cheek, setting your promise to stone.

635 notes · View notes

madelynraemunson · 1 year ago

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors if u see this NO YOU DO NOT

Chapter 008: Good Girl, Good Fucking Girl

A flustered Eddie orders you to the backseat of his van after weeks of constant teasing.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* (all coming soon)

NSFW — dirty-talk, choking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, fingering, deep throating, ball play, slapping, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, aggressive!eddie, daddy kink, dominant!eddie, submissive!shy girl, finger sucking, praising kink, titty fucking, swallowing, basically anything that doesn’t involve a condom bc these bitches aren’t prepared

word count: 3k words

“I feel you too, Feel those things you do, In your eyes I see a fire that burns.”

♡

“Back of the van. Now.”

Along with making your pussy swell, Eddie’s ferocity catches you by surprise. He’s never been that rough with you before, even with weeks of his passive aggressive behavior. Eddie’s hand stays glued to your neck while he undresses you with his contentious eyes. He means business.

You rush to the backseat when he releases you, your eagerness to be fucked all the way out making you indifferent to any scratches or scrapes you may acquire along the way.

It makes you look pathetic, you know, but his thirst to have you, even in a well-lit parking lot at borderline dawn would do just about anybody in.

Eddie uses the opportunity of you on all fours to issue a rough smack across your asscheeks. You whimper softly in response.

"Sorry," he coos as he rubs the impact site. "I just couldn’t help myself.”

“That’ll definitely leave a mark,” you comment.

“As intended.”

You lay yourself down on the relatively spacious backseat, propping yourself upwards with your elbows. Eddie follows suit, stumbling on nothing along the way and landing just inches away from your face.

Your hands go up to support him. "Oh my god," you chuckle. You graze up the arms of his leather jacket. "You alright?"

"Better than alright," he replies, undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans. His eyes are fixed on you the whole time. “C’mere.”

Eddie pulls you into another tender kiss, shielding the back of your head with his palm as he lays you all the way down. You instinctively cradle your legs around him, your antsy fingers getting tangled in his thick brown hair, your lips suctioning themselves to his hot, unmarked neck.

Eddie buries his face in your chest, caressing your tits with his tongue and his hands. You palm his erection through his boxers before exploring the small of his back with both your hands. Moaning softly, Eddie grinds himself onto you, getting himself off to the friction of your heat that's barricaded by two stubborn articles of rigid, blue denim.

“‘Tits are fucking perfect,” he says between kisses. “They just sit so pretty.”

It all feels so right. Eddie grabs you by the hips and attempts to thrust further, maximizing your dry touch until you give him the green light to proceed.

“God, I need you now.”

You cup the large and firm protrudence in your hand once again and give his balls a timid squeeze as Eddie groans into your ear.

“You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this,” Eddie continues.

"You and me both," you heave. "Need you so fucking bad, Eddie."

Both of your moans fill the van as your lips crash into each other again, tongues sparring for control. Eddie grabs a hold of your right breast, massaging it gently before playing with your nipples, pinching, rubbing, and flicking to the tempo of his kisses.

"I can't do this," Eddie debates aloud, shaking his head as he plants messy, wet kisses all over your face. “Fuck. I’m screwed.”

You beam up at him, resting your hands on top of his chest. "Don't run from it, Eddie. Just embrace it."

“Kinda too late to retreat, I’m afraid,” he laughs. “I meant I don’t have a condom.”

“We can do other things,” you suggest. “I’m a sucker for foreplay.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie insists.

“I kinda had to. More than twice actually.”

His hand flies to your neck again. You squeal, again.

“Don’t get smart with me now.”

You use this opportunity to get Eddie real fired up. Pouting up at him with your plump lips, you bat your wispy lashes that accessorized your glimmering ‘fuck-me-senseless’ eyes.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The game of cat and mouse is coming to an end.

Eddie roughly undoes the buttons of your shorts and wrangles them off of you before discarding them off to the side. All in one quick sweep.

His hand lands on your mound and he pauses to admire you before his fingers drive themselves inward. You feel your nipples harden as Eddie continues to venture.

"Fuck, Eddie..." you breathe.

You squirm impatiently as Eddie takes his time pulling down your bright red g-string that unintentionally matched the set he just spoiled you with. He seems to be struggling. To help him out, you reach over to pull your g-string down, but he grabs your wrist and chucks it away. Your heart soars.

“No no, leave ‘em halfway on,” he commands. “It’s hotter that way. Eagerness factor and all.”

You know exactly what Eddie means by that. There’s something so sexy about needing someone so bad that you’re hardly undressed.

Eddie continues to set up access. Meanwhile, you play with his fingers, stripping him of his rings as a hint to how you want him.

Thumb ring, off.

Index finger ring, off.

Middle finger ring, off.

Pinky ring, off.

Eddie doesn’t wear anything on either ring finger. But judging by how this night is headed, you are determined to make that change.

You gasp quietly as Eddie etches gentle circles against your clit, three of his large fingers teasing your already slippery entrance. You breathe out in euphoria when he slides his index finger in.

Testing the waters. Eddie pumps into you in a rotating motion, studying your reaction as you quickly accommodate him.

“Shit,” you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure.

Eddie maintains his steady pace.

“Tell me how you like it,” he encourages you.

“Just like that,” your response is almost inaudible. “I like it like that, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” he whispers. “Good.”

The rhythm continues.

“More,” you instruct him before kissing his chin. His emerging 5 o’clock shadow is tickling you, but you don’t care. “Please, Eddie.”

“What does more mean, babygirl?” Eddie questions. “Hm? What can I do for you?”

“F-faster,” you plead. “And one more finger, please.”

Without hesitation, his middle finger swoops in. He begins to pick up speed.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

You grab onto his hair and pull him closer to you. All the while, Eddie is pistoning in and out of you, at a speed and depth so aching, your eyes begin to well with tears.

Eddie smirks. “What are you crying for, honey? It’s what you wanted.”

“I know, I know,” you mewl. “It just feels too good.”

You bridge your pelvis upward to maximize the sensation. The sounds of your arousal slosh around in the backseat, absolute music to Eddie’s ears. He continues to repeatedly taunt that sweet spot of yours.

“Look at you,” he says. “So wet for me, you hear that sweetheart?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod.

The pet name sends shivers down Eddie’s spine. His eyes are fixated on you now, watching you shake beneath him. You’re mouthing for more because your voice is nearly gone. Eddie uses his pinky and his thumb to keep you propped upward.

He curves his fingers.

The pressure sensation to shoots up to your navel. You abruptly dig your nails into Eddie’s thigh in response to your detonating senses.

“MMM!” you yelp.

Eddie dares to mock you. “Mm?”

“Feel s-so good,” you stammer. “S-so fucking good. More, please, Eddie. I want more.”

He pumps his fingers into you harder, picking up speed with every thrust. And just when you think you’ve adjusted to him, his ring finger slides in.

You squeal in delight as pressure builds and Eddie advances further. He’s so measured, so rhythmic. Those are guitarist fingers if you ever did experience them.

“You still with me, angel?”

You realize you haven’t spoke or looked at him in a while. A kiss lands on the top of your head as you come back to earth. He needs to feel good now.

“Need your cock, Eddie,” you whimper. “Need to spoil you too.”

He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his other hand. “Aw, shucks. That’s thoughtful of you, dear.”

He kisses your forehead. “Alright.”

You both shift around to new positions and comfort levels. This time you’re on your stomach with your back arched, legs slightly parted so Eddie can keep abusing your cunt with those long, thick fingers of his. Eddie lines his groin up with your mouth, teasing you with how slow he’s pulling down the only thing keeping you from devouring him.

"You're only fucking Steve, right?"

You nod. "And…you're not sleeping with anyone?"

"Currently not." Eddie confirms. "And I'm tested, are you tested?"

You nod eagerly. "Cleared."

And the boxers come down.

He’s huge. Your eyes widen as his dagger springs out, his length just as excruciating as Steve’s, but his girth an entirely different ballpark. You rest a clammy set of fingers atop of it and hold in your breath, realizing your dainty little hand can barely envelope his entire circumference.

A thin strand of his pre-cum leaks from his rosy red tip. All for you.

Amused at your reaction, Eddie gives off a single-syllable chuckle. "What?"

"I think you know what.”

He looks at you slyly. "Do I?"

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Eddie shrugs. “Perhaps.” He inches closer to you. “But you’re just as sneaky.”

He gently taps your lips with the tip of his cock, requesting entrance into your mouth. You open up wide, taking him in sliver by sliver, dancing your tongue around his head before moving down his shaft.

“Shit,” he mutters.

You feel him hardening in your mouth. It leaves you stunned. He wasn’t completely hard yet?

You bob your head up and down as you take him, doing swirls around his tip with your tongue and mimicking the motion with your hands as you stroke him. And you don’t want to leave the boys out so after a while, you stroke him with both hands, gliding your thumb along the tip of his head while you tongue his balls. Eddie acquires a huge cluster of your hair and proceeds to lightly guide you.

“My fucking god,” he sputters. “Mmm just like that baby, FUCK.”

Soon he's got your hands behind your back and thrusting into your mouth, the foreshadow of his release running down your chin. You arch your back further to display your pleasure, and to allow easier access for Eddie’s fingers as you throat his long, wide cock to tears.

Meanwhile, his three fingers are a machine, propelling themselves in and out of you, the rattling of your drenched pussy ricocheting off the walls of Eddie's van. Pressure continues to build at your core.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans. He pulls his fingers out to spank you. “Wish you can see how pretty you look right now. Give that mouth a nice lil stretch…”

His cock rams the back of your throat repeatedly. Your resistance in the form of a subtle gag makes it known.

"Keep that mouth open, baby," Eddie instructs. "Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

You gag and you gasp as Eddie fucks your throat, jamming into you so hard you’re sure it’s going to bruise tomorrow. A couple more thrusts, and you tap, digging your sharp nails into his thighs and spitting him out to lubricate his dick.

“Yeah ha!” Eddie chuckles euphorically as you go back to swallowing him down. He pulls you in with your hair. “That’s the stuff, baby. Want you to take me until that pretty jaw locks. Want you to still feel me today, tomorrow, and the day after. Do you understand me?"

You nod your head, yes, rapidly. You pause to take in some air, jacking him off with your hand in the meantime, reveling in the dreamy state in his eyes.

The intense fingering continues, this time, he keeps his fingers curved.

“Oh my GOD!” you scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you continue to jerk Eddie off.

Eddie issues you a mild slap across the face causing you to moan in pleasure. He cups your face with a single hand, encouraging you to look at him and to not break eye contact. He wants to watch you fall apart.

He yanks his three fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth. You suck on them instantly.

"Mhm," Eddie pants. "You like how you taste huh?"

You’re all tuckered out. Mouth sore, legs like jello, makeup probably non-existent. But you’re in another world. Too far away from Earth to care. And you don’t plan on coming back down any time soon.

“Let’s give that pretty little mouth a break,” Eddie barters. “Lemme fuck your tits.”

Again, with a singular motion, Eddie unclasps your bra and glides it down and away from your arms. You allow him to flip you back over onto your back and watch in absolute bliss as hovers over you.

Pushing your tits together, you watch as Eddie lines himself up, sliding in between and thrusting himself onto you. You poke your tongue out to graze his dick when you can.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans. “This is so hot.”

“You’re so hot,” you insist.

He blushes. “No you’re so hot. And sweaty.”

Eddie’s secretions mixed with your saliva spill onto your chest as he continues to pleasure himself. The fingers that were once inside of you are now in your mouth. You suck on them hard.

“Havin’ the time of your life aren’t you, my little fuck doll?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “Love letting you use me, Eds.”

Eddie’s face scrunches as he continues to fuck your breasts, beads of sweat raining down on you as he reaches his peak.

“So fucking dangerous,” Eddie tosses his head back. “This is so dangerous. Holy shit. Wanna cum all over you.”

The phone rings. You two flinch at the noise as it yanks you both out of your lust-filled trance.

"Son of a BITCH!” Eddie growls. He debates letting it go to voicemail, but when he sees who's calling he answers the phone.

"What, Henderson?"

"Oh good, you're still awake!" you hear Dustin pant from the other end of the line. "Can you pick us up please? Skull Rock?"

"W-" Eddie's puzzled. "Us? Who's us? Why are you shitheads up so late?"

"We've been drinking and we don't wanna walk home," Dustin explains. "Especially cuz Lucas keeps walking into oncoming traffic."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie rages. "You guys work in the afternoon, why would you-"

Eddie slams his palm onto his face as he listens half-assed to Dustin's explanation. They argue back and forth for a little while longer before he caves. Eddie would rather have the boys plastered in his van than in the Uber of a family friend who would snitch to Ms. Claudia Henderson about their shenanigans. Eddie the Hero, per usual.

"I…” Eddie rolls his eyes. "Gotta pick up the boys. If they get caught, a lot of us are in trouble."

“Aw,” you shrug. “Okay.”

“Let’s finish up,” Eddie suggests. “Real quick. Please.”

The easiest ‘yes’ ever. You and Eddie agree to one last face fuck. He thrusts into you messily, eyes closed and concentrated on chasing his release. With his outlet being your pretty, puffy, pink lips it comes quicker than you think.

The thick threads of Eddie’s hot cum shoot to the back of your throat. You swallow instantly, and make sure he’s watching.

Eddie’s mouth flies open as he bears witness to the whole thing. You wipe the remnants of him off with the side of your thumb.

“No need for clean up,” you smile innocently.

For a second it looks like Eddie’s knees almost buckle.

“My god,” he strains. “You need to marry me asap.”

You know it’s a joke, but your heart flutters at the compliment.

“Yeah, right.”

You’re a little bummed the nights been cut short again but you're at ease knowing there's plenty more where that came from.

“I’m so sorry that the night ended this way,” Eddie mutters. “I just didn’t expect literally any of this to happen.”

"It's okay," you giggle. "I remember those days. Dad's controlling ass raised some sneaky kids.”

"Oh yeah?"

"Hell yeah," you nod. "You wouldn't believe the adventures I went on. Billy would tag along too."

Eddie smiles. “Since we’re talking adventures, this one of ours has to be my favorite.”

You two proceed to drive along to Skull Rock, the skull shaped boulder made infamous by Eddie and Steve. Eddie won't go into full detail about how they made it so well known. Just that it was them that did it.

Eddie slithers his hand over to you, resting it atop your thigh.

"Well this changes some things, huh?" he laughs.

"Kinda," you mumble shyly, not even fighting back your ear-to-ear grin anymore.

“In one mile, turn right on Curly Street,” the GPS orders.

A slightly heavy rectangular device lands onto your lap. It’s Eddie’s phone.

"Can you text Dustin for me?" Eddie requests. "Let him know our ETA and all that?"

“Sure!” you oblige.

Eddie gives you his passcode, 0-0-2-0 and you navigate to his text messages to text your rambunctious curly-haired friend.

The concept of it all makes you blush. Eddie trusts you with his phone and letting him text your mutual friends for him. Butterflies form in your stomach.

According to Eds and Siri, you’re five minutes away so that's what you text. Dustin shoots you a thumbs up a few seconds later.

You go to close to the Messenger app. But with an accidental swipe to the left, the conversation below Dustin's happens to catch your eye.

NINA loved "See you soon! 😁”

—————————-

tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

————

author’s note: me after posting the raunchiest chapter(s) of this fic so far and turning off my phone

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things 5 #hellfire #hellfire club #Spotify

492 notes · View notes