#rule of funny always and forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watchmegetobsessed · 4 months

Text

NOW AND FOREVER (part 2)

A/N: these two got stuck in my head and seemingly in yours as well, so lets see some more of them! part 1 is linked under the summary if you haven't read it!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

PAIRING: princess!reader x guard!harry

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: To be eligible for the throne, you need to get married. The past few years have been dedicated to finding a king for you, but now that you're secretly dating your guard, these attempts are a bit more complicated than before.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There’s that scene in The Princess Diaries when they are choosing a possible husband out of a slide show for Mia. You used to find it funny when you were younger and made jokes to your parents that you want to do it too. They laughed, but exchanged a look you didn’t understand back then.

Now you do.

There are two requirements you need to meet to take the throne. The first one is to be at least 25 years old. That box has been ticked for three years now, the real problem is the second one. Because as outdated that law in the movies was, it is your reality. You have to be married, you can’t take the throne without a man.

As a teenager you didn’t think much of it, because you pictured yourself to meet a handsome prince, marry him and then become queen, easy as it is. But as you grew older and dating was proven to be impossible as a princess, anxiety and panic started to set in that you’d end up in an arranged marriage just to become eligible for ruling Eroda.

Then came Harry, you fell for him and he fell for you, but it just complicated things even more, because he is not from royal blood, not even close to being an aristocrat, therefore you can never marry him.

For the past few years most of the social events you’ve attended had a not so hidden second purpose: finding a husband.

Never ending rounds of introductions to single men, awkward chatting that ended up in asking you out on a date that you declined politely most of the time, followed by a sermon from your father about needing to settle soon, because he is not getting younger and you need to be eligible for the throne as soon as possible. You always tried your best to just ignore him, but ever since you and Harry have become an item secretly it’s been extremely hard to hold your tongue and not tell him that you have found the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, but he can’t be king, because he is your guard.

It’s such an impossible situation and you have no idea where it’s going to lead.

Now it’s another one of those occasions, the opening of the Spring Festival is just another opportunity to fill up the palace’s ballroom with all kinds of single men from around the country and even outside as well.

You know people are filling up the room already while you’re still in your suite. Your hair is done, makeup perfect, wearing a gown that costs probably way more than you feel comfortable with, but you’re never informed about how expensive your outfits are.

You’ll be announced in about fifteen minutes, walk down the stairs for the millionth time and start your rounds. You’d rather jump out the window than to meet all those people, but you have no choice.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you call out and you see Harry step inside from the mirror. He is wearing his usual black suit, looking polished and threatening at the same time, but not to you. You see the man he is behind his thick walls, because there’s a door on that wall, just for you, wide open.

The door clicks behind him and he watches you turn around, his gaze runs down the length of your body and then up to your face again.

“Should I change?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him teasingly.

“Do you want the honest or the brutally honest answer?”

Your lips stretch into a smile as you start to cross the room slowly, walking towards him while he remains standing in his spot.

“Both. The honest first.”

“You look stunning,” he replies, his eyes soft and loving. You stop just a few inches away from him.

“And the brutally honest one?”

There’s a short pause, you catch his eyes slip down to your chest and waist again before returning.

“I want to lock you in here and not let you close any men out there. I wish I could mark you mine.”

He knows how to turn you on within seconds with just a few words. He knows so well how much you like it when he gets possessive, ready to show it to the world that you belong to him and only him.

A shaky breath leaves your lips and just when you reach up to grab him by his neck there’s another knock on the door. forcing you to take a step back instead.

“Come in!” you answer when there’s enough distance between you and Harry, though your heart is still pounding in your chest as if it’s about to jump out and right into Harry’s hands.

Head of security, Clarke steps into the suite.

“Her Royal Highness, you’re expected to appear in ten minutes,” he informs you with a polite nod.

“Styles just arrived to walk me over. Thank you.”

The two men exchange a look before Clarke walks out. Taking a deep breath you turn to face Harry.

“Ready?”

“Sure,” you huff, earning a tiny smirk from him before he opens the door, but as you walk past him he stops you just for a split second to whisper into your ear.

“Mine,” is all he says and you keep walking as if that one word didn’t just make your knees wobble.

You use the walk to the ballroom to get your thoughts straight and not imagine how Harry would peel you out of this dress if you had some privacy…

They announce you and every pair of eyes are glued to you as you walk down the stairs and join the crowd. Endless rounds of introduction, the smile is frozen on your face and your feet are already sore from the heels, but you ignore the pain.

It always amazes you how uninteresting the men you meet are. How they can’t hold a conversation that doesn’t make you claw your eyes out. Thirty seconds into the chit-chat and you’re already planning your escape usually.

Tonight however there is one exception.

His name is Magnus, some kind of relative of the Swedish royal family, you don’t really care to be honest. At first he seemed just another one of the boring puppets, but he soon proved to actually have a personality and your status didn’t stop him from showing it.

His almost inappropriate, a bit risky jokes are what keep you sane tonight. He just knows what makes you laugh and he has a great timing dropping his silent comments that are only meant for you.

“I think I’ll have a little break,” you tell him after a rather long conversation with some old baron you know you’ve seen a couple of times already, but can’t remember his name, only that he is always oddly curious about the neckline of your dress.

“I’ll be around here, dodging questions about my father’s political choices.”

You smile with a nod and then look around to find Harry. He is not far away, by a window, his eyes already glued to you when you make your way towards him.

“Bathroom break,” you announce to him with a smile, expecting to see that hidden glimmer in his eyes as usual, because this is always the time when you steal a few intimate moments, but he is different now. Something is off.

He nods without a word and escorts you out of the room. In those few minutes you go back to your suite you try to figure out what could have happened since you parted ways that could upset him this much. As always, he opens the door for you, one guard stays outside and he comes in with you.

He plants himself by the door, his hands clasped together in front of him as he keeps a straight face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He looks at you just for a second before turning his gaze towards the window, his jaw flexes and your worry just grows, you haven’t seen him this upset in a long time.

“Nothing is wrong,” he answers, but you both know it’s not true.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time, Harry. Just once more. What is wrong?”

Slowly, his eyes move back to you and for a moment, you forget to breathe, they’re so intense and darker than ever, as if all that gorgeous greenness is gone from them.

“Your little date must be waiting for you, better hurry.”

Amusement settles on your face and you can’t stop yourself from letting a laugh slip out.

“That’s your problem? Magnus?” His lips twitch at his name, but he doesn’t reply. “Harry, you know this is what’s expected from me. I have to pretend like I want to get to know the men out there.”

“I bet you didn’t have to pretend much when he came into the picture.”

“What are you talking about?!” you let out another frustrated laugh. You know he tends to get jealous, but you’ve never seen this side of him before.

“You seemed to enjoy his company a lot out there.”

“Because he is not a boring asshole like most of the men I’m usually introduced to.”

“Great. You two will look good as king and queen.”

You know he doesn’t mean it, that he is just pissed and feels helpless in our situation, but in this moment you simply can’t see over the nasty fog of anger.

“Oh you think so too? I agree,” is all you say before you march into your bathroom and shut the door closed.

There’s no more talking as you walk back to the ballroom, but even the blind could see the tension between the two of you. You catch the other guard that came with you giving Harry a puzzled look, but he didn’t dare to ask.

“Magnus!” you call out to him, making your way straight to him upon arriving when you spot him by a table. You can feel Harry’s burning gaze on your back, but tonight you’re in the mood to be petty.

“Your Royal Highness, you’re back!” he smiles brightly.

He is handsome, that’s for sure. Has great manners and an even greater sense of humor. The more you talk to him the more you think that you might be able to develop feelings for him in some years, or at least enough to live beside him in peace.

But those feelings would never live up to the love and passion you have for Harry.

You’re still angry at him, for how childish he was and thought that anyone could stand a chance when he’s in your life.

As the evening carries on your anger eases, though you’re still upset with him, you just want to be alone with him finally, touch him, kiss him, hear him call your name.

Magnus asks you out at the end of the night and you politely decline, he doesn’t seem offended, maybe a bit disappointed, but he masks it well. You say your rounds of goodbye and then finally make your way back to your suite, Harry walking right beside you.

The tension has somewhat lessened, but the vibes are still not the usual. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, if he is still as upset as before or he has cooled down, his face is so blank it irks you. Arriving at the suite you look at him, searching for any sign or feeling in his eyes, but they look back at you completely empty. So you walk in and lock yourself in your bathroom with trembling lips.

Normally Harry would sneak in later at night, but this time you don’t expect him to show up. Hoping to burn the feelings tonight left behind, you take a hot bath and try to carry on as if nothing happened, even though Harry is all you can think about.

Is it possible this is how things will end between the two of you? That this stupid little jealousy game is enough to pull you apart? You start to spiral heavily when you step out of the steamed up bathroom, but all your thoughts disappear the moment you notice you’re not alone.

Harry is sitting on the edge of your bed, still wearing his suit from tonight, but his black tie is gone and the top few buttons are undone on his perfectly white shirt. Unsure about where you’re standing and if he is still angry at you for the whole Magnus thing, you just stop halfway over to the bed, wrapped only in a silky robe.

For a while he just sits there, staring at you, silent and unreadable and right when you’re about to speak, he stands up and starts walking towards you, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. You’re waiting for him to say something, maybe lash out on you, or apologize, practically anything, because his silence is pure torture.

He stops right in front of you, if you took a deep breath your chest would be touching his, but he is still just staring down at you without a single word.

And you break.

“Harry, I–”

He doesn’t let you finish, instead, his lips smash against yours, one hand on the back of your neck, the other one grabbing your jaw as he moves forward, pushing you to move with him until your back hits the wall, his whole body pressed against you as he kisses you like never before.

He’s been rough with you before, but not like this. He is devouring your lips with the raw passion he had to hold back all evening, watching you parade around with another man while he wished he could show everyone in the room who you belong to.

You both are in a rush, he is practically tearing your robe off your body while you’re ridding him of his clothes in a frenzy. You don’t even get to pull his shirt off entirely and his pants are just pooling around his ankles when brings your legs around his waist and thrusts his throbbing cock into you, only to freeze once he’s buried deep inside you.

You both gasp, lips smearing against each other as you stare back at each other, savoring the feeling of being as physically close as possible finally. The events of tonight have turned, they are now a force between the two of you, pulling you closer and closer until you’re melted together as one.

You grab his face, tightening your legs around his waist as you breathe his name into his mouth before he starts moving.

He starts off slow, but he is quick to fasten his pace, your gasps fill the room and you’re thankful your whole suite is soundproof, just like almost all rooms in the palace. It’s the only reason why you could have been in a similar situation in the library, the guest room in the west wing and your study.

You’re tugging his hair and clawing at his back while he pounds into you relentlessly. At one point, most likely to muffle his moans, he bites into your shoulder and you faintly feel him sucking on the skin, but you’re just too gone to even realize what he is doing.

He is kissing you so hard your teeth are clashing as he comes, his movements fall out of his fast paced rhythm for a bit, but then he keeps going for you.

“Come on, baby. Give it to me, come on my cock,” he urges you, knowing you’re close too. “I know you’re there, I can feel you so tight around my cock, just give it to me.”

A few more rough thrust and you’re whining out his name, your orgasm spreading through your whole body in waves. He fucks you through it and only stops when he’s sure you’ve given him everything.

You stay like that, his cock buried inside you, his body pressing you up against the wall, foreheads resting against each other as you both try to catch your breath. When he pulls back you follow his eyes to your shoulder and see the reddish-purple mark he left on you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he breathes out as he lets your legs down, your feet returning to the floor but he keeps an arm around your waist, knowing you probably don’t have much energy to stand on your own, his other hand comes up to your shoulder and he runs his fingers over the mark.

“It’s fine, I have makeup that covers anything,” you smirk at him. Secretly, you wish he’d let himself loose like this more often, you love seeing his mark on yourself.

You catch his face falling before he speaks again.

“And I’m sorry for tonight.”

You couldn’t be angry at him anymore, not even if you tried. The tenderness is back in his eyes and he is the Harry you love so much again.

“I’m sorry too.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong, just… talked to a guy whose company was nice, after all those events full of assholes you always have to put up with. I was… jealous, because he got to be with you the way I want to.”

It stings in your chest, his confession hits hard now that it was said out loud, even though deep down you knew he felt like that, because you did too. You wished it could have been him.

With a gentle touch, you take his face between your hands and pull him in for a soft kiss.

“I know you know it, just probably forget it sometimes, but I’ll say it. No matter who they try to set me up with or how many princes and barons they throw into my way, I will only love and belong to you. Now and forever.”

You intentionally use his words and it seems to strengthen the message, you notice the tears in his eyes and you feel your throat closing up as well when you pull him in for another kiss, this time it’s longer and more passionate. You can taste his words on his tongue: I love you too.

When he pulls back you see the glimmer in his eyes, but then they disappear in a second.

“What’s wrong?” He shakes his head. “Harry, talk to me, please,” you beg him, pushing his hair back.

“It’s just… You’ll have to marry one day. You can’t be queen without marrying someone and I… I can’t be…”

He doesn’t want to say it out loud, as if it would make it more real, even though it’s as real as it could get.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” you tell him, running the pad of your thumb over his eyebrow, as if you wanted to memorize every feature of his face. When he looks into your eyes you know he doesn’t believe you, but he just nods. You don’t want to let him go like this, to end tonight on such a bitter note. “So… you’d want to marry me? You’re saying you would willingly have me as your wife?”

You see the switch in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth curl up makes you lightheaded in a second.

“Did I say that?”

“You very much implied, yes,” you grin at him. “I’m surprised you’d want to put up with my big mouth and attitude, you get the most of them, because I can’t act up in public. Wouldn’t you get fed up with me after a while?” you ask teasingly.

“Mm, don’t let it get to your head, but I love your big mouth and attitude.” Leaning down his lips are now brushing against yours, but he is not kissing you just yet. “Especially… your mouth and everything it can do,” he adds in a whisper before finally sucking on your bottom lip.

He pulls you away from the wall and starts walking you towards the bed and you just smile widely against his mouth as you willingly move with him until you both fall into your bed and make the best out of the little time he gets to spend with you before he needs to sneak out.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

752 notes · View notes

peterthepark · 2 years

Text

so damn into you

pairing: eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut, mature content, piv, dirty talk, established fwb, swearing, rough sex, ring kink and spanking, mentions of drugs, squirting, choking, throat fucking

summary: good girls stay out of trouble. bad girls invite rockstars like eddie munson into their bedroom and fuck secretly behind closed doors. there’s something different about your dynamic though, and you’re starting to think it isn’t just the sex.

notes: title references so damn into you by vlad holiday! enjoy :)

There seems to be this forbidden rule in the crowded halls of Hawkins High that runs till this day. It’s funny, truly, how the concepts behind cliques have such a serious hold over your fellow senior classmates. The idea that cliques can’t mix, can’t intermingle, or — hell — can’t even fucking look at each other because a glance meant absolutely everything drives you crazy.

Especially when you liked breaking the rules.

Especially when you liked looking at him.

Him with his shaggy hair, those big doe-eyes with that familiar sparkle of mischief that always had you smiling behind your locker whenever he’d saunter by, him with his obvious double takes of boyish desire in the cafeteria whenever you’d walk past in that tiny little skirt to go sit with the cheer squad as if you didn’t know each other at all, him and the way he stares at you after school, crossing his arms across his chest while he leans up against his van and counts the minutes till he can touch you.

Those eyes were always only for you. Always you. Always him. And yet, always behind closed doors, out of sight, forever in your mind, because the connection between an innocent cheerleader and the mirthful leader of the freakish Hellfire Club would be deemed the semester’s next controversial topic aside from that recurring rumor that Chrissy Cunningham does cocaine in the girls’ bathroom.

Not true, by the way. It’s definitely weed.

The twenty-year old senior has a reputation far different from yours, an accumulation of all the negative remarks people seem to implode upon him for his extreme love of D&D, overachieving rock band and his late highschool graduation.

Although, if someone were to accuse you of having sex with Eddie Munson on a regular basis? You’d be totally screwed. Surely, something with a lack of seriousness couldn’t be so problematic? Sex with no feelings. One-hundred percent, to the core, consensual sex, filthy and forward with zero emotions implied.

A fling, who you’d let tear you apart anytime and any day.

A fling that leaves you not just weak in the knees but… fuck. That’s all it is: a fling. Right?

So when Eddie shows up at your bedroom window with autumn-colored leaves in his hair and a shit-eating grin, the palpitations in your achy heart tell you otherwise. You don’t exchange many words, moreso just usher him inside and gently shut the latch behind him as if your entire manic spiel of avoiding each other’s houses hadn’t mattered at all anymore.

At this point, nothing matters. Except him. He always does. Especially now, when he’s hauling himself off of that little bench by your windowsill and nearly face-planting into the carpet with how he ungracefully maneuvers his taller frame into your arms for the millionth time this week. You’re careful not to make too much sound, giggling like children as Eddie’s boots thump against your flooring.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Eddie whispers with twitchy lips, scratching the nape of his neck bashfully as he adjusts to the midnight darkness of your small bedroom. “I know I’m late, but I had this really, really important campaign earlier and those shitheads Dustin and Mike needed a ride home, so I didn’t want to just leave them hanging which is why…”

You interrupt him with an overdue kiss to the lips, caressing his flushed cheeks as his outgoing hand gestures come to a halt and instinctively make their way down your soft sides. You slowly ease your tongue into his mouth, his large palm splaying over your jaw as he draws you closer to him.

“Well, hello to you too, sweetheart.” Eddie quips playfully.

You pull away shyly, wiping the smeared gloss from your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Sorry. Artificial strawberry.”

He hums in approval, smacking his lips together. “Tastes sweet. You know, actually reminds me of something…”

“Oookay, you can stop right there.”

“I was gonna say your…”

You glare at him, “Eddie.”

“Fine.” He rubs your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, remnants of a chuckle falling upon his features as the moonlight dances through your curtains. “Y’know, your lips are always so soft, so… fucking delicate — how do you do that? Jesus Christ, you smell really — fuck, you smell really good right now.”

You twirl one of his unruly curls around your digit, batting your lashes up at him as you pout with feigned innocence. “All fresh and clean from a shower.”

Eddie’s brows shoot upwards in amusement at your suggestion, “I can change that.”

“Really?” You gnaw on the inside of your mouth, feeling his hand dip lower and lower on your back as you instinctively arch into him. “Why? Feeling filthy?”

He holds your cheek, palm spreading across your blemished skin as he stares into your eyes. “Everytime I’m with you, all I am is filthy.” His lips twitch humorously. “You turn me into an absolute horndog, what can I say? Short skirts, knee-high socks, and you know I go a little crazy for those black converse.”

“Converse turns you on?” You snicker, nearly yelping aloud when the backs of your knees finally hit the edge of your king-sized bed and you catch yourself against the springy mattress.

You look up to Eddie, jaw falling open as he thumbs at your bottom lip. His tall shadow is far from menacing, but surely intimidating as he smiles toothily down at your frame. “You’re so silly, converse doesn’t turn me on. But, hey, you know what does, though?” He sighs out through his nostrils, using his other hand to card through your scalp and tilt your head back. “Mmm, look at me.”

“I am.” You gulp loudly.

“Look harder, Y/N.” You want him to swallow you whole. Right there, with that look, the intensity of his gaze and the dominant stature of his skilled hands molding and melting into your body. “You know what turns me on? The thought of having fucked you in nothing but those converse, back in my van, just a few days ago. You must remember, hm?”

You clench your thighs together at the recollection.

“I remember, alright.” You hold his stare, feeling his thumb dip a bit further into your mouth. “Came home smelling like sex and weed. My cheer uniform… all sticky and gross.”

“And you liked it… because the next day, you still smelled like my van. Meaning…” Eddie hooks his finger against the corner of your lip, before pulling away and putting the glistening digit against his own tongue. “You slept without washing me off you, little lady.” He hums in approval when you shut your eyes. “Hawkins’ perfect angel of a cheerleader, such a good fucking girl that surely no one in this small town would suspect that she’s actually just a slut for my cock…”

You whimper, tucking your chin to your chest as a rush of heat pulses through your cunt. “F-Fucking hell…”

“With the mouth of an actual sailor, by the way.” He shrugs almost dorkily, “But, god, do I love that mouth.” His hand slips to the nape of your neck, fingers gripping the soft skin before he starts to breathe heavily and blink rapidly. “Shit, can I kiss you?”

You don’t even answer, just nod and awkwardly rise from the bed to meet Eddie’s lips halfway — your knees are buckling beneath you from the weight of him against you, his plump lips velvety and familiar as his tongue explores your wet mouth.

You try to be more resigned, knowing that flaunting your neediness would only stroke Eddie’s already-growing ego. But your older classmate has learned to see right through whatever facade you use to convince yourself that you’re immune to him.

This current dynamic is different from when you first slept together.

You’ve grown bolder, he’s taken note of that. Especially in public, you like to stare. A minute turns into two, two turns into a couple glances that are too shit to be even called subtle, and glances turn into objectifying stares at his hands or rings, his lap, and sometimes even the ink on his arms.

Eddie gets off on it more than he should.

He finds pleasure in breaking your little good-girl cheerleader act, knowing that his unholy influence is seeping right through the cracks of your misleading halo.

But you’ve also grown tender to one another. Eddie knows there’s still that awful rift between your differing sides of highschool, but sometimes your company means more than just sex to him. He feels… wanted, seen, sure of himself, because a pretty woman like you probably wouldn’t hang out with anyone like him if he wasn’t someone of good substance.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t only sex. Because on the afternoons you’d sit in his van, he sometimes wouldn’t even think about what was underneath that cheer uniform. Fuck the uniform, he could listen to you and your animated self talk for ages, watching how your bright smile spreads across your cheeks and your kind eyes light up with enthusiasm as you tell him about your day.

He knows he’s screwing himself over for the long run.

“I’m still sore, just so you know.” You whisper brokenly against his lips, clutching a fistful of his leather jacket. “I had to skip last practice because I really couldn’t walk straight.”

Eddie moans wantonly at the confession, covering up his whiny tone with a stifled cough. “Oh, that’s a shame.”

“It really is.”

“Let’s make it happen again, then.” He grins, winking at you before he’s settling you down onto the bed. He rests on his knees between your spread legs, chin jutted out as he studies how your arms lay out over your pretty head. “Fuck, you’re so cute like this.”

You scoff, glad that the darkness can mask your flustered expression. “M’not doing anything.”

Eddie tosses his jacket to the side, baring a plain white tee. “No, you aren’t. It’s just adorable seeing how all innocent and put-together you look right before I fuck you.”

You gasp when he roughly tugs you closer to him by the slope of your calf, hooking your leg over his shoulder and pervertedly watching the way your shorts ride up your thigh from the new angle.

“Take a picture,” You breathe out, moaning quietly as Eddie kisses along your exposed skin and brushes his mouth against your ankle. “It’ll last longer.”

“I have enough pictures back at home.” He smirks devilishly with a shrug, and you can’t help but laugh knowing that he’s absolutely right. Shoebox of polaroids and other things hidden under his bed. Classic move. “None of them are as good as the real deal right here, sweetheart.”

Eddie sets your leg down from his shoulder, gently skimming his hand over the faint lovebites across your thigh before he’s helping you out of your oversized shirt and shorts. Both look two sizes too big on you, but either way, he still finds it sexy. His palms hover over the naked swell of your breasts, fingertips barely running across your hard nipples as the cool air of your bedroom hits your chest.

Your apparent lack of bra is coupled with a pair of lacy boyshort panties, a little ripped by the waistband, but Eddie honestly doesn’t care (he can do a lot more damage than some wear and tear). He admires how it hugs your hips perfectly, cheeky from the back and nearly teases him with how it drapes over your ass before the cloth disappears between your luscious thighs.

“Touch me.” You pout, tucking his hair behind his ear.

He grins. “So eager, let me take you in. Don’t rush it.”

“Mmm, okay. Whatever you say, dungeon master.” A giggle escapes your throat, sweet and innocent, and not at all mischievous. His nostrils flare, eyes dilating into the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen him sport. “Does… that turn…? Oh, my god, it does!”

He pushes your shoulder playfully, sneaking a glance at the way your breasts jiggle from the movement. “Shut up.”

“Okay, I thought it was a joke.”

Eddie winces. “You’re kinkshaming right now, you know that?”

You bite back your widening smile, and take it upon yourself to hook your arms behind his neck as you clamber onto his lap. “I think it’s kinda hot.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Y/N.”

“Oh, please fuck me, dungeon master.” You draw a laugh out of Eddie, stroking his flushed cheeks as he finally finds the courage to lock eyes with you again. “Show me who’s boss. Come on.”

Eddie hisses when you grind yourself against his denim-clad thigh, suddenly a reminder of his aching hard-on. “You’re a fucking whore.”

“Okay, now you’re just telling me qualities about myself that I already know.” You nudge your nose against his, entranced by the image of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So? Are you gonna fuck me like the whore you think I am?”

Eddie’s hands squeeze the fleshiness of your ass, rings cold against your bottom before a hot sting starts to crawl over your skin.

He spanked you, and you’re certain that his ornate jewelry has left an angry mark that’ll appear in the morning.

“No need for me to think when I already know.” He whispers, before he’s pulling his shirt over his wild head of hair and flinging the ball of fabric at you. You catch it before it can hit you in the face, tossing it back at Eddie with a giggly hmph! that makes both of you lose your balance.

The sudden motion combined with your bodies at the edge of the bed sends you tumbling onto the carpet, limbs hitting the floor with a foreshadowing of bruises. You both wince at the loud thud that echoes throughout the house, and Eddie’s thankful that your family is full of deep sleepers — a theory that he hates to say has been tested out before.

“Are you okay?” He laughs, propping himself up on a pale elbow as he cups a hand over his twitchy mouth. You both erupt into hearty chuckles, muffling your amusement behind your forearm.

You groan, rubbing your boob. “Peachy.”

“Mmm, I’m sorry. Listen, I can make it better.” Eddie crawls over to you, spreading your thighs apart with an expert knee as he hovers over you. “I know a couple tricks.”

“If you’re that horny, you could’ve just told me.” He watches the careful rise and fall of your breasts, taking in the suppleness of your abdomen and the slight arch in your back against the floorboards.

He bends over you, slowly mouthing at the space above your navel before his large hands travel up your stomach and knead at your tits. Your mouth falls open, nothing but the ghost of a moan leaving your throat as Eddie pinches your nipples and runs his tongue up your middle. The hot muscle immediately finds one of your breasts, taking the pebbled skin between his lips before he tends to your other hardened nipple.

You card a shaky hand through his curls, taking a gentle handful and guiding his head to that sweet spot beneath your jaw. “Fuck, you’re pretty.” Eddie whispers, pecking the underside of your chin before he’s trailing his lips over that vein in your neck. “Can I tell you something?” You hum, lashes fluttering against your cheek as Eddie nips at your earlobe with a knowing grin. “I’m so fucking horny, I just wanna take you from behind on this floor. Is that what you wanted to hear from me, Y/N? God, is that alright? Me eating you out right here, me fucking your mouth till you’re just drooling, then me cumming inside your little pussy? Is that okay with you, sweet girl?”

You squirm beneath him, pleading with your eyes as he pins your wrists over your head. “Y-Yes, Eddie. I… fuck, yes. Please.” His teeth make contact with your neck, a tiny pinch drawing a needy groan out of you before his tongue swipes across your pulse point and soothes the bite mark he’s left. “Wanna feel good.”

Eddie kneels back and sighs out desperately, puffing his hair away from his face as he guides your hand and runs it over his torso. You bite your lip as goosebumps form under your compelling touch, his faint abs flexing against your palm as you skim over his happy trail and make straight for the tattoo near his collarbone.

“You can be quiet for me, can’t you?” He inquires, his voice dripping with desire. You nod instantly, and Eddie almost laughs at how quickly your head bobs in agreement. “That’s a good girl. Help me out of this, yeah? Can’t let me stay here and do all the work.” He gestures at his heavy belt buckle and distressed jeans, smiling cattily as your fingers eagerly run his belt out of the loops and pop the button of his pants. “Fuck, feel how hard I am.”

You sit up and press your hand against the thick outline of his clothed cock, mewling at the feeling as Eddie’s eyes light up with an immediate burst of ego.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Munson.”

“Honestly? It’s all going straight to my dick.” He huffs, throwing his head back as you kiss him through his boxers. The tone of his voice changes instantly once you start to palm him, lips massaging the tip of his leaking prick through the fabric, “Shit, fuck, o-okay… you know what, I’ve been edging myself this entire day, and I really don’t wanna get walked in on so if you could… just… hell, if I could fuck your throat like right now… please, I’m dying to be inside you.”

“God, you really are horny tonight.” You laugh teasingly, pulling the waistband of his boxers past his hips. “What’s gotten into you, rockstar? Is it the whole dungeon master thing?”

“Oh, my god. You need to shut the fuck up.” He hisses playfully, scooting forward until his hard cock is aligned with your parting mouth. “Getting off on my embarrassment is so not funny, Y/N.”

He doesn’t hesitate to shove the reddened tip right between your lips, and you immediately salivate at the weight of him on your tongue. Waiting has never been Eddie’s strong suit, always too eager, and you seem to take it as impatience when really, he’s yearning to be as close to you as possible.

“Mmm… E-Eddie!” You whimper around him, using your fist to fuck the base of his cock while you suckle on his aching head.

He inhales deeply, placing his hand on the back of your head. “Look at you, baby. C’mon, suck me off. You know exactly how to do it. Had to teach you in the library bathroom that one time, didn’t I?” His hips instinctively buck up into you, pushing his length further into your mouth. The tip of your nose is pressed up against the groomed tuft of dark curls by his lower abdomen, inhaling the scent of his manhood as Eddie guides your head up and down his dick. “Fuck, and you were such a f-fast learner, too. Weren’t you? Can I go a bit harder, sweetheart?”

Your face scrunches up into pleasure when Eddie’s hand dips between your thighs, cold rings skimming over the damp crotch of your panties before you’re widening your legs and opening your jaw even more for him.

He tightens his hold on the back of your head, fingers stroking your scalp as he keeps you in place and his hips rhythmically meet your mouth. Saliva starts to roll down your chin, a trail of wetness making its way past your flexing neck as Eddie fucks your warm throat.

“Damn it, Y/N, you’re taking it so well. You love it when I fuck your throat like this? Filthy thing, tsk tsk. What would your little cheer team say? Their favorite member… s-shit, getting her throat fucked by an awful boy like me in her own bedroom. You gonna tell ‘em how much you enjoy getting corrupted by me?”

You scratch at his inked thighs, clasping a hand over the backside of his knee to draw him nearer. His jeans hang haphazardly low on his hips, the front slick from the spit dripping off your knuckles and the mess that spills over the corners of your lips.

Eddie finds pleasure in your humiliation, in fact, it’s what keeps his cock begging for more.

So, when you quickly pull away from him and blink away the tears from your sparkling eyes to utter your next words, he’s practically begging for sweet release.

“Want you to be rougher with me tonight. Please, Eds.”

“How rough?” His brow quirks upwards, a taunting smirk tugging at his mouth. “Like… fuck you till you can’t walk kind-of-rough? Slap you in the face? Spank you till your gorgeous ass is just… covered in — fuck — bruises?“ He drags the tip of his prick along your cheek, moaning at how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling and a shaky sigh leaves your body. “Choke you till your neck is covered with the outline of my rings? What, so you can show up to school tomorrow and flaunt it for everyone to gawk at like the fucking dumbasses they are? Can’t figure out who’s been railing the pretty cheerleader, can’t they?”

You whine at his loaded words, avoiding eye contact when his fingers find the underside of your loose jaw. His touch is a stark contrast to the tone of his voice. “Need you so bad.”

Eddie begs to differ. He needs you more. Needs to be buried inside you and never leave, just an endless night of wild, uncoordinated sex like horny rabbits — so believe him when he says he needs this more.

“Where do you want me?”

A pout forms on your lips as you intertwine your hand with his and drag it towards your mound. “Here.”

Eddie coos, splaying a hand over your stomach. “Lay back then, baby. I’ll go easy. Promise.” You send him an unconvinced look, watching as he finds solace in the space between your thighs and flops onto his stomach. “What’s up with that face?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at him as he hooks his ringed thumbs over your boyshorts and pulls. “And by easy you mean… make me cum on your tongue like fifty gazillion times till I’m begging for mercy.”

He pauses in contemplation, before letting out a sound of agreement and pursing his lips. “Sounds ‘bout right. You never seem to really complain though.” You swear your vision blurs when Eddie flattens his digit along your folds, teasing your poor hole with gentle swirls. “My sweet Y/N, it seems that you’re already soaking wet.”

“I can’t help it. Rings off, by the way.”

Eddie playfully frowns, making haste to rid himself of his silver ornaments. “Watch these for me.” You moan when he lines the cold jewelry straight along your navel, “And keep still.” He says. “Wouldn’t want these little babies all over the floor.”

You look down at him from where you lay, hands reaching for him as his steady breaths fan over your pulsing cunt. The placement of his rings on your belly feels incredibly sexual, like a signature on your body that belonged to Eddie. Every tiny movement you make causes the silver to shift just a little bit, so when his tongue finally makes contact with your clit, you have to stop yourself from thrashing out in satisfaction.

But something about the way Eddie looks at you from between your thighs, his moans buried in your own folds, just makes you want to leap up and take him right there.

Maybe you don’t give him enough credit for his restraint.

He continues to flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves, testing out your sensitivity and relearning the perfect amount of pressure when he suckles on your clit. He drags his hands down your outer thighs, gripping the soft flesh with a newfound hunger.

“Fuck, E-Eddie… feels nice. God, I love your mouth, you’re so — so good with it, baby.”

“Yeah? Fucking tastes delicious. Could eat your pussy out everyday.” He chuckles sneakily. “Maybe even take you to-go. Lick you up whenever I need a snack.”

You whimper, balling your hands into fists in his hair when he slips a long finger inside you. “Perv.”

“Simply a man speaking his mind, Y/N.” Eddie’s digit slowly curls into you, making an embarrassing wet and sopping sound that draws a whiny groan out of him. “Christ, you really are wet. Fucking hell, babe.”

Babe.

That’s a first.

Eddie adds another finger, the soft heel of his palm is pressed roughly against your clit as he rocks his hand into you. Your cunt grips around him tightly, pulling him in further with every stroke that brushes against your contracting walls. He nibbles on your inner thigh while gauging your reaction, dreamily gazing up at you with those huge eyes as he fucks you with his slender fingers.

“Eds, please. Mmm… f-fuck, I’m… fuck!” You grit your teeth to muffle the sounds of your broken moans, the rings laid out on your stomach nearly toppling over as your hips jolt up. “You fill me up so well, your fingers are so — fuck, please. Please just fuck me.”

“Oh, such a dirty mouth.” He hums in amusement, grinning as he uses his other hand to massage your clit. “At least give me one orgasm. Just one, baby. You know I love making you cum more than once. You deserve it, deserve cumming over and over again like the pretty girl you are.”

His hand snaps into you faster, your juices coating his palm as you start to drip all over him. His digits are embarrassingly slick, and you quickly feel the rush of your climax approaching from his gentle words.

“I’m — I’m close, just please… please keep touching me like that. Gonna… gonna cum.”

A smile spreads across his face, “Yeah? Keep beggin’ for it. Show me how much you want it. Need some convincing.”

“Please, please let me cum. I’m so — Eddie, want you so bad. Please make me cum so I can… fuck, so I can have your cock inside me already.”

“Only because you said so, sweet thing.”

You share a look. Longing. Need. Lust.

Then Eddie is fucking his fingers knuckle-deep into you, relentless and unstopping, a sensation so overwhelming that you don’t even know you’re cumming until Eddie is pointing out how you’ve wet the carpet.

“Did you just…” Your mouth falls open in disbelief, breasts heaving as he pulls his fingers from your cunt.

He grins toothily. The smug bastard. “Make you squirt? Hell-fucking-yeah.” Eddie leans over you, capturing your lips in a celebratory kiss that feels all too tender. “That was so goddamn hot. Christ, I could cream my pants.”

“You’re so lame.” You laugh, pushing his shoulder gently before he’s pecking either side of your cheek.

“Lame? Does lame make a girl squirt? I don’t think so. I’m cool-lame. Watch, I’ll make you squirt again.”

“In your dreams, Munson.”

He slips his boots off, pushing the rest of his jeans down and kicks it to the side. “Get on your knees.”

You send him a challenging look, raising your brows with a smirk. “If I don’t?”

“Guess I can just do this, then.” You yelp as Eddie flips you onto your stomach. His rings clatter loudly to the floorboards, flying in all different directions as he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. A heavy sigh leaves his mouth, and you glance back at him with sudden concern. “Fuck… condom?”

“Just pull out.”

“Just… pull… out?”

You shrug, making a confused face. “Yeah, I’ll pop something in the morning.”

“Y/N, honey, have you ever been to this thing called… I don’t know, sex-ed?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and you would’ve laughed had you not noticed his extremely hard cock waiting in his hand.

“Honestly, I’m more of a hands-on learner.”

“Oh, are you now?”

“Most definitely. You’d know.”

“You sure you want me to pull out? We can just stop right here if you don’t wanna keep going.”

You bite your lip, eyeing him over your shoulder with a half-lidded gaze. “I wanna keep going.”

“Down you go then, Y/N. Fuck, let me see you.” His hand comes down on the middle of your spine, pressing onto your back until your cheek is laying against the floor. You can feel his tip prodding into your entrance, the teasing motion of his cock rubbing against your needy slit. “Shit, baby, could just cum on myself from looking at you.”

“Please, f-fuck me.”

His dick enters you in one, slow and agonizing motion. You muffle your moans into the carpet, mewling from the immense stretch you feel between your legs as Eddie buries himself deep inside you. His hips are lined up against the curve of your ass, his large hands leaving dark prints on your skin as he pulls out and pushes back in.

“S-shit… Y/N.” He drawls, hair falling against his face as he watches his thick cock disappear into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight. What the fuck… Christ, it’s like the first time I had you.”

When he took your virginity on that lunch table in the trailer park, that’s definitely what he meant.

“Oh, my god. You’re so — so big, I can’t… can’t think with you inside, I just… fuck, move.” You reach back for his hand, nearly crying out when he places his palms on either side of your head and looms over your compromised position. He trails his soft lips over the nape of your neck, his pick necklace brushing over your skin as he breathes your scent in. “Need you. Need you, you treat me so well.”

“I know. I know I do, sweetheart. Rock back for me, yeah? Feel it, feel my cock right here.” You choke on a moan when Eddie feels up your abdomen, stroking the outline of his cock inside you. “Good girl. You can take it.”

His hand wraps back around your throat, fingers pressing into your pulse point before he’s pulling you up by your neck and having you sit on his dick. He chuckles darkly, “Your favorite seat in the house, right? All the way, Y/N. Take it deep for me.”

You shiver when his head pushes against your g-spot, and you realize that shutting your thighs together is absolutely no use when Eddie Munson is balls-deep inside you.

“Oh, f-fuck!” Your voice comes out garbled and raspy as his hold on your throat tightens, bruising yet pleasurable all at once as he pounds into you.

From fucking under bleachers, to the bathrooms in the library, to the back of his van and the floor of your childhood bedroom, you’ve come a long way.

Eddie’s fingers leave your throat and find comfort on your supple waist, digging into your generous hips as you grind on his lap. He meets you halfway with long strokes, slow and purposeful with each thrust of his cock.

“Y/N, baby… f-fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good. I-I — holy fuck — I’m so lucky I can do this with you.” He whines out, barely coherent, but you can only focus on that one phrase.

Lucky I can do this with you.

“Eddie, fucking hell. Oh, oh my god. P-Please… wanna cum on you.”

“Gonna get you there, baby. Promise. A little longer, yeah? Gotta make you cum before I do.”

Your fingers messily circle over your clit, a combined sensation of pleasure that adds to the feeling of Eddie stretching out your pussy beneath you. He’s holding back his moans, stifling whimpers against your shoulder when his pace starts to quicken and his rhythm grows sloppy.

You tilt your head back and reach for his lips, pulling his face against yours as he continues fucking into you. You still taste yourself on his tongue, and you’d be lying if you denied that you enjoyed the idea of his mouth being on your cunt just moments ago.

“You’re so pretty.” You whisper against his cheek, watching as his eyes close in bliss. “Fuck, you’re so hot. And I get you all to myself — a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar… oh, you fuck me so well.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick, and your words spur him on even further. He holds you tight against his chest, tattooed hands grasping at your skin and breasts as he feels you clench around his length.

“Close, ain’t you? C’mon, sweet girl. Two for two. Let me feel you cum, Y/N. S’my favorite part.” Eddie nearly topples over when your cunt gives his cock one hard and long squeeze, fingers flying to help you massage your clit as another orgasm pumps through your quivering body. “Holy fuck, you’re so sexy when you cum. S-Shit, I… I gotta pull out…”

You nearly sob from the loss of contact when Eddie leaves you, emptying his seed out across your back and the tenderness of your ass as he grunts quietly behind you. Of course, you make no subtlety to watch him ride out his high — that perfect scowl on his face, the curl on his lip as he moans and runs his thumb over the leaking head of his prick.

“Hoooly fuck…” You sigh out, knees giving out from under you. Thankfully, Eddie catches you at the last second, arm swooping under your stomach before your body can make contact with the floor. “Oh, my god. That was…”

“Yeah, I… I honestly can’t… can’t think right now when there’s cum all over us.” He giggles heartily, leaving a hickey right on your collarbone. “Fuck, your neck is all red and purple.”

“Hot.”

“Not hot, I’m sorry if I was too rough. Just been thinkin’ about you lately, and… well, I guess I couldn’t help myself. Hold still for a sec.”

The admission makes you smirk, and you look back at Eddie as he grabs a random towel from your closet and wipes his spill off of your back. You turn over once he’s finished, arms outstretched over your head as Eddie sits against your bed frame and lazily draws shapes on your calf.

“You think about me in your free time often, Munson?”

He clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side cutely, “Only when I wanna recall something pretty.”

“Mhm. Sure, rockstar.” You flick at his hand.

“Don’t let it get to your head, miss cheerleader.”

Eddie continues running his fingers up and down your leg, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body as the late midnight seeps through your curtains. You hum as he brings your ankle to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the bone before he’s leaning his head back against the edge of the bed and letting out a tired sigh.

“Wish you could stay the night.” The words that leave you shock you just as much as they do Eddie. “I mean, I just don’t want you driving back so late, y’know.”

“I know.” He takes note of your darting eyes, suddenly evading his amused stare at all costs. He’ll play nice for now. “I’ll see you tomorrow though, just before first period. Wanna see you in your dorky uniform.”

You gape at him, sitting up with an expression of feigned offense. “Okay, rude. I thought the uniform was hot — like, like every guy’s fantasy kind of hot.”

“Only getting back at you for calling me dungeon master.” He shrugs giddily, before he’s pulling your legs off of his lap then slipping on his wrinkled boxers and jeans. You follow suit, fetching new underwear and a flannel before you prop the window back open while he collects his rings from your bedroom.

Eddie’s belt buckle jangles behind you as you sit on the bench by the windowsill, looking out at the flickering street lamp of your little culdesac. A hand on your hip draws you from your trance, and you’re met with Eddie’s sunken face of an awaiting goodbye.

“Stay safe, Hellfire.” You tease, heart fluttering as he squeezes your side and gently moves you away from the window. You’re unable to tear your gaze away from his arms, admiring the way his tattoos glint on his porcelain skin.

“By the way, best part about this is the drive back.”

“Huh?” You lean over as Eddie clambers out onto your roof, boots nearly slipping on the shingles. “Why’s that?”

He smirks, glancing at the sky before he settles on the details of your face. “Get to think about you all the way home.”

Then, he’s landing on your lawn with two feet and jogging away from your porch, but not without a nerdy wave and a little wink that makes your heart do another somersault similar to when he first knocked his way into your room.

Whatever this is, whatever it’s going to be, you know the both of you are absolutely fucked in the long run. Either way, it doesn’t matter what people will end up thinking.

You’re so damn into him, even if it is — after all — just a fling. Totally a fling.

Just a cheerleader and her favorite rockstar.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things oneshot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

13K notes · View notes

ssahotchnerr · 1 month

Note

girl dad aaron AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION!!!!!!!

he would spend all his money at the ring toss just to get his girl the prize she wants. he would hold her hand on the swings. he would give into her begging to go on the big drop ride. he would ride in her bumper car, whispering, “c’mon. let’s bump into mommy. it’ll be funny.” he would make sure to smear her in sunscreen. he would let her wear his sunglasses. he would buy her dippin dots and funnel cakes and cotton candy. he would carry her on his shoulders. he would get wet on the water rides with her. he would guarantee they get to sit in the back or front carts (it’s only appropriate to sit in the front on some rides. other rides, it’s only appropriate to sit in the back. he would know which ride requires the back seat and which requires the front because he’s asked around because he wants his girl to have the best experience on the rollercoasters she can.) he would pack so much water to make sure everyone stays hydrated (he’s also got a fanny pack. i don’t make the rules.) he would pose for the cameras with her on the rides (silly faces, bunny ears, kissing her cheek, etc.) and he would obviously buy them and hang them on the fridge until the entire fridge is covered in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

aw aw awwww are you trying to make me cry?????? 😭💞💞💞

baby girl's his ride buddy of the day 🥹🥹🥹 it works out perfectly too. i feel like aaron's not too keen on rides - he gets nauseous easily and can only take so much 😭 whereas you're still okay - so you'll go on the more extreme rides with jack. as the two of you are doing that, aaron's on the more tame rides with baby girl, or standing on the sidelines with her in his arms, pointing out you and jack on the ride 🥰 and for the kiddie rides that don't fit an adult, jack happily goes on those with her hehe <3333 best big brother

aaron's hand is always in hers, she's in his arms, or in a stroller, just always accounted for. he's terrified she'll somehow wander away (although she knows not to) or he knows how easily someone could come swoop her up and take her far away (mosley lane 😭😭😭😭) and STOP the visual of her on his shoulders, in his sunglasses that are far too big for her, gripping onto his hair or his head as she chatters away - pointing out what she sees, what rides she wants to go on, what snacks smell yummy, or simply talking about anything <3333 sobbing

when it comes to the prizes, aaron's definitely paying way more than what that item probably cost to make, and knows it's 'lowkey' a waste of money 😭 but there's no price when it comes to baby girl's happiness, he'll do whatever it takes 🥰 the smile that forms on her face when she finally gets the plushie she wanted??? priceless and it's a memory they'll both hold onto forever - aaron takes full advantage of those type of memories 🥺

the bumper cars!!!!!!!!!!! the true highlight of the day 😭 aaron's with baby girl, you're with jack. hehe you peer over as aaron's sneakily whispering to her and eyeing the two of you👀, you know what he's scheming and tell jack the very same thing 🤭 "we gotta get dad and your sister". the laughs that erupt from both of them as they bump into each other 😭😭😭😭 it's contagious, you and aaron are equally as giddy and are loving every second of it 🥰 they even both insist on riding multiple times just to crash into each other LOL

and omg aaron's prepared and stacked for every scenario possible. extra clothes, shoes, socks are in the car (for each family member) for after the water rides. he packs dramamine, ibruprofen, bug spray. he also strategically plans out when to eat snacks or food - to prevent upset stomachs after eating and going on rides 🥴 he brings a tonnn of sunscreen and applies frequently. omg the four of you are pulled off to the side, drinking water and taking a break - you unscrew the top of a water bottle for jack, simply turn your head, and are met with aaron's hands on your face - applying sunscreen generously for you too 😭😭😭🫶🏻 he also brought hats for extra coverage - jack has a baseball cap, baby girl has a cute lil bucket hat 🥰

and AWWW the pictures 🥹🥹🥹 aaron's sure to get multiples too - one for the fridge, for baby girl's room (a pic of them on her bedside table 😭😭😭😭 especially useful when she misses him when he's gone on a case and she just wants her daddy🥺) and his office 😭<3333

as the four of you leave the amusement park when night falls, baby girl is absolutely zonked 😭 her face is smushed into aaron's neck, arms around his neck, maybe even drooling a bit, completely out. hehe so aaron veryyyy carefully places her into her carseat as to not wake her up 🥹 ugh she had the best day <333

#let's talk aaron <333333 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

278 notes · View notes

number-onekidqueen · 3 months

Text

The Seven Times Luke Castellan Said 'I Love You'

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Pure angst.

3.7k words

Warnings: death, injury, insecurities, bad parenting, spoilers for Percy Jackson book series.

One.

Luke must’ve been four the first time he ever said those three words.

He’d been at preschool, and it was the second week. He’d missed mommy. He felt different to all the other kids, and there were all these really scary faces that kept popping out of bushes that no one else could see. His mommy had picked him up early when the preschool called, and taken him home to a surprise. She’d baked his favourite: choc chip cookies, and he was even allowed to drink Kool-Aid too!

“I love you, mommy!!” He’d mumbled, while he stuffed his little mouth with the baked goods, in a sugary daze.

It made him feel so much better, knowing at least he had mommy to always come home to and rely on.

If only that had been true.

Two.

He was 9 when he said that sentence for the second time.

Mom wasn’t there for him anymore.

He was scared to go to school and leave her alone, because every time he got home, she would be insane. It’s like she wasn’t there with him anymore.

She would scream so loud and her eyes would be bright green, and she’d shake him and cry, wailing about how he was going to die. Usually it would make him so disturbed he’d run into his bedroom and lock the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow.

She always did.

It was when she started to pound on his door, begging him to come out, that he’d begin to sob, shaking in fright.

He’d pray and pray to his dad in desperate tears, asking and asking him to bless his mom, to free her from this curse and to make her better again. It didn’t ever stop.

She’d still make cookies, sometimes, but she’d forget about them and leave them in for so long they’d always be burnt to cinders. She’d serve Kool-Aid too, but he’d grown out of it.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His mom wasn’t getting better, but worse. Her fits were getting more frequent, and Luke’s dad wasn’t doing anything to help him.

Luke couldn’t stay here a second longer.

“I love you, mum,” he whispered to her curled figure on the couch, a full backpack on his shoulder and all his childhood allowance in his pockets as he softly closed the door.

He knew they’d be better off without each other.

Three.

Luke was fourteen when he said that phrase for the third time.

He’d finally found his family.

Sure, it hurt to think of his mother, all alone in his old house, but he had two amazing, brave and funny sisters to make up for that.

Until he didn’t.

It was all such a blur.

One second, they’d just been meeting some satyr by the name of Grover, who claimed to be their protector, a safeguard back to a camp for kids like them.

They’d been on the journey, he, Thalia, Annabeth, wondering what it would be like when they got there, what would happen.

And then the cyclops had struck.

It had all gone too quickly from there. They’d been running madly, tripping through the forest scrub, their hearts pumping, their adrenaline pulsing, Grover yelling that the entrance to camp wasn’t far, that they’d be safe there and to keep going.

The cyclops was still gaining on them, and Luke was starting to feel an awful sense of dread.

Then Thalia - brave, amazing, stupid Thalia - had volunteered to fight the monster. She’d told them to run ahead, that she had the sucker and would be right behind them.

And Luke was scared and thinking of Annabeth and safety, and he agreed, he kept running.

He left her.

His sister.

He swore he blinked once, and then she was dying, crumpled on the dirt, bleeding out and groaning in pain, camp only an ironic few metres away.

None of them even had time to reach out a hand to help her before she turned golden, vanished into a great big pine tree.

Gone forever before he could say goodbye.

“I love you, Thalia,” he whispered that night, not caring that he was breaking curfew rules, getting too close to the dangerous outskirts of camp.

Not caring he was using present tense. He refused to say ‘loved.’

Because he would love Thalia forever.

Four

Luke was sixteen the fourth time he uttered those words.

After all his life he was finally at home.

He’d grown accustomed and comfortable with camp, accepting it as his home. Even though sometimes it was weird to be at a summer camp all year round, he found happiness in his new place, trying to forget about the bad things. Thalia. His mother.

He’d found peace in routine, and confidence. Chiron said he was becoming what would be the best swordsman Camp Half-Blood had seen in 300 years.

There were his friends and siblings. He had Chris and the Stolls, and all the other Hermes kids that made his cabin rowdy and feel homelike.

Then there was y/n, probably his best friend, an Apollo girl who’d healed him immediately after he got to camp and had been there for him since.

There were heaps of activities to keep him busy. Training. Capture the flag. Parties, when he was old enough.

It had been the second of one of the post-curfew parties Luke had been to, and he admitted he had drank too much. Far too much.

Things had got out of hand when an Ares boy had insulted you, someone who was lovely to everyone. He couldn’t really even remember what the boy had said, only that it enraged him and he’d only seen red after that.

It all sort of went downhill from there. He’d thrown a punch, received one, and the rest was a sweaty and jagged dance of thrown limbs.

And now he was here, replaying the events in his mind, sat on the bathroom floor of the Apollo cabin, you kneeling over him with a warm cloth. His fists clenched at the thought of that stupid boy again.

“Luke,” you whispered, and the thoughts disappeared. “Look at me so I can fix you up.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. It gave him an excuse to openly stare at you. In this dim light, you were gorgeous. Your skin seemed to glow golden from within, which mirrored the bright warmth of your eyes, and the radiance of your hair that framed your face. It was bittersweet, making him happy yet sick with longing, especially in his drunken state, to think of how you weren’t his. I want you, he wanted to whisper. He nearly did.

“Thank you. You’re so good.” He said instead.

“I don’t know about that, but always. That’s what best friends are for,” you reassured, smiling.

His heart sank. He didn’t want you like a best friend. He wanted you to want him like he wanted you.

“Yeah,” he said offhandedly.

There was a long pause. Your touch was soft on the cuts all over him, and although it stung, it was worth it. It was finished all too soon except-

“I’m still hurt,” he tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t form, “like, my chest.”

“He got you there too? Through your shirt?”

“Yeah. Little sucker had a pocketknife and everything.”

“Ok,” you replied. The room stayed silent. Suddenly, he was confused.

“Um-“

“Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, um-“

Your hands reached for him almost… shyly. Could it be possible that you were overthinking seeing him like this, flustered, also thinking about him like he was about you? It drew a grin to his face. He decided to play with you.

“You don’t have to treat me that delicately. I promise it doesn’t hurt that much.”

You gave a nervous laugh, your hands moving slightly faster as he lifted his arms.

And then it was time to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were certainly not on him, but his chest, and it almost seemed your cheeks had transitioned from golden to rosy. His grin turned into a smirk.

“I gather that stare is either in reaction to my amazing abs or really bad cut. Either way, take it all in,” he teased. It occurred to him later he would never have said anything remotely like this if he was sober.

“Haha, Castellan,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and continuing your job. But you were smiling.

Your features were even softer closer up. It took his breath away, and he couldn’t help the words that next escaped from the confines of his heart.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You froze, midway through finishing dabbing a cut. Your eyes looked up at his, his earnest, vulnerable irises. And then you looked down at his lips. And dropping the cloth, you took his face into your hands and kissed him. It was the most exhilarating, fantastic five seconds of his life. And then you pulled away, stepping back.

“There you go. That’s probably all you wanted, since you’re drunk. You’re-you’re healed now.” You stuttered out.

And he wanted to chase you, have another kiss, try to create a proper response to that, to why he loved you, but you’d ran away from him, and he didn’t want to be snooping through someone else’s cabin, even in his state.

He was left reeling in the moonlight, stumbling back to his cabin before the harpies found him. Once he was between the sheets, his mind muddled, he found it easy to fall asleep, the image and feel of you still in his mind.

He woke up the next day, baffled that his mind could come up with a dream so lifelike. Even mad that maybe a Hypnos kid has taken note of his crush and decided to create a dream like that as a prank. What assholes.

Because you would never kiss someone like him, he knew that.

Like ever.

Five

Luke was seventeen the fifth time he said that statement.

He hadn’t known things could get so much worse.

His father, finally acknowledging him after his claiming, had sent him on a quest. Sure, it was a reused quest from Heracles, but Luke knew just how glorified and contested quests were, and so he accepted happily, choosing two of the older and more experienced campers to assist him in retrieving the golden apples from the dragon.

You were a bit offended that he hadn’t chose you, and he had no explanation that he could offer you, save for a confession. It made for a parting laced with bitterness.

The quest started off fine, and they got to their destination smoothly, but it quickly went downhill from there.

Once they were in the garden, almost immediately the dragon was alerted of their presence. It began to attack, using quick, violent manoeuvres that were hard to keep up with for even the most experienced.

Too hard for one of his quest mates, who became food for the monster’s jaws. It was a sickening, gruesome sight that Luke could never wipe from his mind.

The other quest mate became injured soon after that, and then it was Luke on his own.

At that point, even he knew the quest was lost. He was just defending himself and trying to get out alive. And so he did, with a painful scar from eye to chin as a marking of his forever defeat against the dragon.

He returned as a failure.

He was wounded, with a permanent and ugly physical memory, one of his quest mates was dead, the other also mortally wounded, and their fingers hadn’t even grazed the golden flesh of the apples. He couldn’t even finish an already done quest.

Worse was the pity.

The moment he stepped past Thalia’s tree and into camp, all he received was pity. Quiet voices, soft glances, stopped conversations, permits, excuses.

It was as if he were the dragon, and they were afraid that if they did not tread lightly he may begin roaring flames at them.

He never did.

Just like y/n never treated him with pity.

Your eyes were objective, calculating as they surveyed his wounds. Of course your words were soft, but they always were, with your perfect bedside manner. In those moments where you treated him normally, he couldn’t appreciate you more.

Worst of all probably were the nightmares. He had one awful recurring one: he’d be back in that hellish garden, the dying screams of his dead quest mate and the roaring of the dragon in his ears, the adrenaline and chase all through him, and then every camper he’d ever known would appear, surround him and shake their heads, looking at him in pity and knowing he was a failure. They would chant it, and pelt burning rocks at him, and he would run, run, run, but he could never escape it.

He couldn’t bear it one hot late July night, and slipped away under the stars. He was always calmer there, where he could put himself and his feelings into perspective.

And that’s where y/n had found him, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with his knees loosely curled to his chest.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, just sat there beside him, breathing, stargazing too.

“I’ve seen you come out here, every night this week.” You stated, finally looking over at him. “Are the nightmares that bad?”

He nodded, gulping down the fear and tears that submerged at the thought.

“You should’ve come to me, you know we have dreamless tonic at the infirmary-“

“Yeah I know. But I deserve it, don’t I?” He asked bitterly, turning to you, “I failed and so I get to live with the consequences. The nightmares.”

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to face consequences-“

“But I do already, don’t I? I feel like I’m not even the same at all, like I’ll never be the same again. I’ve got this stupid, disgusting scar,” he spat, jabbing at his face, “as this reminder and I’ve got to live knowing I wasn’t ever good enough to succeed and my failure led to someone’s death.”

There was silence for a while, where you gazed at him, at his eyes.

“Stop blaming yourself,” you said softly, “I won’t let you.”

“I can’t help it though,” he whispered, voice cracking, “after training for so long and everyone telling me I’m the best swordsman, I couldn’t save someone, could barely defend myself. And now they’re dead, because of me. And every time I try and forget it- I look in the mirror and see this-this scar and-“

You scooted closer, and one of your hands laid over his.

“Your scar isn’t a symbol of failure. It should never be. It means you’re brave, that you survived that dragon-“ you reached for his face, and so, so gently began to run your index finger down his scar, “-that you’ve overcome all that horror and emerged stronger.”

You cupped his cheek after you finished tracing. His heart was racing.

“And you’re still the same to me. You’re still smart, funny, brave, handsome, strong. You’re still you. Don’t let anyone take that away.”

Your hand slowly drew away from his face, but he caught it, keeping you there.

And he stared.

Stared at this beautiful, golden girl who was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could only think of three words.

“I love you,” he whispered to you, and he slowly leaned in.

You kissed, his hands in your silky hair and yours on his strong back, and this was the most effective healing Luke had ever had.

He knew at this moment that the best he would ever be was with you.

And that would be always, he hoped.

Six.

Luke was nineteen the next time he spoke from his heart.

Things were finally getting better, but they had a long way to go. Luke would be there to see the good change come through.

Camp was normal. Demigods died, demigods lived. They got claimed, their parents ignored them for months or years. They would train for quests, row, sing at camp fires. He would teach sword classes, rowing, and in his spare time he and y/n would go to their secret spot at the lake and…. Spend some time together in private.

Flustered and a little ruffled they would return to have dinner, stargaze, play wild games of Capture the Flag.

Luke was happy enough. But he didn’t know how long this would last, this calm joy.

He couldn’t live like this, waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop with no help from his dad and the other gods.

He’d made his decisions, laid his plans, and now he waited. Waited.

Tangled in your arms, he traced shapes on your hands as you played with his hair. It was a warm environment, like the home he never had.

The nightmares never really left Luke. Well, unless you were with him.

It was many a night, after curfew, when snores were in the air that he would sneak into your cabin and join you (There were too many people in Hermes cabin for the alternative to ever happen).

And there in your bed he would stay. Sometimes you would talk. Sometimes you would make out. And sometimes you would have quiet times like this, all of each other intertwined as you were lost in comforting thoughts.

Well, you were.

Luke was lost in guilt and impossible choices. He never wanted to leave you, be apart from you. He didn’t know how he’d live without seeing you, hearing your voice. And he hated to leave you like this. But he knew you would never join him. Apollo hadn’t been great, but he hadn’t been terrible and he knew his plans would scare you. He wanted the best for half bloods. This was the only way he could think of. When he came back, surely you would understand.

“You’re so quiet,” you mumbled, from your place under his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what I was thinking about?” And he made up some deep philosophical thought that the two of you quietly discussed and argued about for the next little while, the conversation drifting to other topics before you got drowsy.

“Good night,” you murmured, lifting your face to kiss his nose, scar and lips softly. You returned your head to its place, your warm lips in a smile against his neck, “see you in the morning.”

His stomach plunged, and he felt sick with guilt. He reached over for you, drawing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You, still half asleep, confusedly frowned, but settled back into him with a grin on your face. It was a goodbye, but you didn’t know that.

“I love you,” he breathed, while you fell asleep, and he swore he saw your lips turn upwards. You succumbed to sleep quickly, and it made it simple to softly slip away, escape from you.

As he passed Thalia’s tree, he turned back to look at the cabins, your cabin.

He’d run away once from a home, and it had hurt him. But it had been worth it in the end, and he didn’t regret it.

It hurt running away from this home. Was it worth leaving if it tore his heart into two? He supposed only time would tell. Fitting, giving who his new master was.

——————

And that was the last time Luke ever said I love you.

Well, there was once more.

——————————

Seven.

He didn’t know how old he was when he said that small sentence for the final time.

All he knew was he obeyed Kronos and that the gods had to be slain.

The city at least was familiar. A deep, small part of him felt almost… scared and upset that this city was being damaged.

Oh, and the people. There was a boy he hated, who was powerful and threatening. And a girl with him, who he should hate but he seemed to, well, not.

It had all unfolded so suddenly, the defeat, and suddenly he remembered bits and pieces.

He’d betrayed camp half blood, the only home that he had known, but only so the gods would pay attention to them, be better parents. But what he was doing now wasn’t what he had wanted. Not at all.

He supposed it was an easy decision to make when the boy - ….. Percy - told him to stab himself in the armpit.

He did and finally, in the deadly silence, he was himself again. He was Luke Castellan. A demigod, a child of Hermes. A lot of other things.

For a moment all he could see was the blonde girl whose name he couldn’t remember, that stared at him as he began to writhe in pain. The same blonde girl he couldn’t seem to hate, who he seemed to be soft for.

A lot of other faces stared too, who seemed to be familiar to him but he couldn’t place.

And then there was screaming. Loud, pained screams and running footsteps and a panic rose inside of him. He knew that scream, although he’d rarely heard it.

And there was you, y/n. A face and voice he instantly knew, that he would remember half-dead, which ironically reflected the place he was in now.

You were as beautiful as he remembered, even now, your face contorted, grimy, tears streaming, your hair a sweaty mess.

“No, I can heal him, I can heal him.” You sobbed, kneeling beside him and trying to staunch the bleeding which he could oddly not feel.

He hated seeing you like this. So sad, hurt, in pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do to improve it made it even worse.

He reached for your hand, squeezing it and attempting a weak smile. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you, because you never deserved it. And-“ he coughed, dust in his lungs.

“I love you.” He said, loud and clear for the world to hear. He wanted to say more, but his chest was weak.

It was only them for that moment. You dove in and kissed him, just as passionately as he had that final night. It took his breath away, and he found himself grinning, joyous, at peace.

It was a goodbye, but he didn’t know that.

#luke castellan #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #pjo show luke #luke castellan x you #pjo spoilers #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo series luke #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan imagine #you're welcome #I hurt myself writing this #i may release some more oneshots who knows #requests open

262 notes · View notes

spdrslayr · 10 months

Text

003. atsv headcanons ! ★ pre collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 2 - post collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with dr. johnathon ohnn.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> earlier a centipede got into my room while i was bopping out to hyperpop. it scared me so much that i was able to leverage the fear into energy for writing.

he loves to make you laugh. johnathon’s such a goof compared to other renowned scientists of his age and caliber. really, it’s a breath of fresh air. he knows how to have fun, especially with you. he’ll crack the funniest joke at work only for his coworkers to look at him like: 😐😐😐; so it makes him really happy to know you think he’s funny. you both have so many inside jokes n stories that you’ll cherish forever.

he’s totally the type of person to make jokes whenever he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. he won you over by being silly!

he’ll say the meanest jokes about people you both don’t like, and it’s insanely funny. you think of your johnny as the sweetest boyfriend- but you have to admit, it’s kinda hot when he’s mean.

“if mr.fisk keeps crying about the mets- i’m gonna make sure this collider kills us all,” he grumbled under his breath.

“that annoying photographer visited alchemax again. what was his name…” he feigned innocence. “piper pickle?”

johnathon is such a nerd. it’s adorable how excited he gets about his favorite video games and movies. please indulge in his geeky interests!! he’d love love LOVE to watch some of his favorite sci-fi movies with you. he’ll talk over the entire movie, but it’s still nice to cuddle.

if you don’t know how to play a certain video game of his, he’ll teach you. his voice is so soft n understanding, his breath tickling you while you cuddle. johnathon’s squished to your side, his large hands covering n guiding yours over the controller. and gets so giddy when you win something. all in all, he’s just happy to share something so dear to him with you.

imagine if it turned out one of his favorite characters (crushes cough cough) bore a striking resemblance to you. johnathon is mortified and you’re weirdly flattered (and planning an elaborate cosplay for a surprise.)

his intelligence drives you nuts. it’s INSANELY attractive to you how smart johnathon is. whenever he goes on a tangent about physics or some complicated mathematical concept, you get kind of dizzy listening to him. you don’t mean to, but after a while, you get too distracted by all of him to listen. he’s so passionate, his large hands and long fingers waving about to help emphasize his point. his eyes are sparkling too. his voice got a lot deeper when he (perfectly, by the way) pronounced the word “viscoelasticity” and you’re on cloud 9. this happens whether or not you can understand a word he’s saying. and if you’re not well versed in science, he never talks down to you when rambling. sure, he’s very proud to be a super-genius, but he’d never dream of looking down on other people because of it.

you’re always asking him questions and he fucking loves it. DON’T ASK GOOGLE ABOUT SCIENCE SHIT. if you do he’ll be all pouty n sad.

“hey siri, what is the shape of an electron-”

he looks furious, letting out a scoff. “i’m right here. your smart-ass boyfriend is only a few feet away and you’re asking ol’ googly eyes!”

despite being a busy workaholic, he insists that he’s never too busy for you. if necessary, he’ll make time.

johnathon’s made it his mission to outsmart anyone who impresses you. “i’m not jealous i’m BETTER.”

johnathon adores cuddling you, especially after a stressful day. he just loves you so much that sometimes the only way he can express that to you is by holding you as close as humanly possible. johnathon adores every inch of your being and intends to appreciate every part of it, scars and all. one may expect him to be the big spoon because, well, long man- but it goes either way. sometimes he clutches you like his life depends on it and other times he just needs to bask in your embrace. it makes him feel safe, loved, and on his worst days, invincible.

when in bed, he’ll be running his big hands up and down your sides, rubbing circles into every dent n curve. his hands are hairy, so it’ll tickle a bit, but the way he massages you is nothing short of masterful. he’s so happy that you’re his, so he makes sure to savor you.

johnny loves it when you trace his tattoos. he thinks it’s so cute how much you love them, letting you ‘oooh’ and ‘awww’ as much as your pretty little heart desires.

in the past he absolutely loathed going to alchemax events. being choked by a black tie for a whole ass evening while being forced to mingle with rich assholes is a nightmare for the poor man. but having you come along as his date makes the experience a more positive one. johnathon gets so smug, always delighted to show you off. like yeah, that’s MY s/o. yes they’re gorgeous and taken. by ME. he loves seeing you all dressed up, especially when you’re on his arm.

he’s an introvert, so he gets tired of all the socializing quickly. when that happens, he’ll wander around the venue with you (including places you aren’t allowed to be at-) to get some privacy (and make out.)

speaking of work, he has a picture of you on his desk. he has it placed at an angle so he can see it clearly, but so can anyone who walks in.

johnnys practically screaming: “hey!! look at how beautiful my partner is!!!!”

he calls you baby. he’ll also call you dear, honey, and sweetheart, but baby the most. also counting babe. johnathon has a shit ton more cute nicknames for you and he is NOT afraid to use them.

“g’morning, baby,” he’ll murmur into the crook of your neck, in between sloppy wet kisses on your shoulder.

he passes by you in a rush, but not without pressing a big wet kiss to your check, “hi babe! :)”

“baaaaaabe where did you put the chips?” he can be whiny, especially with you.

“i love you, baby,” he’d tell you softly, cradling your face with his hand. his thumb is rubbing your bottom lip and you’re ready to faint.

#atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader

858 notes · View notes

delulujuls · 1 month

Text

brazilian air | as12

hi, i am in my classic f1 era rn and i am currently obsessed with mr Senna god he was so fine and since it's his bday today i thought that im gonna upload this one bc why not

also im like 100% sure that this one will flop but i wanted to upload this anyway, so if you'll find it worth a shot, enjoy then!

happy bday king, 64 today but 34 forever, you'll always be missed

summary: during a month break from racing, ayrton thought that inviting y/n into his family sides will get them along even more. to the surprise to both of them, they got along even better than expected

warnings: sexual content, fingering, female orgasm

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x ayrton senna

After the Sao Paulo Grand Prix, there came a monthly break, even though it was only the second race of the season.

The end of march was very warm, but the weather in Brazil had its own rules. Just as in London there was probably a downpour and the temperature barely above ten degrees, the other side of the globe had almost holiday-like weather.

The 1990 season was the second year when Y/N took Alain Prost's seat at McLaren, thus becoming Ayrton Senna's teammate. While many did not look favorably upon Ron Dennis's decision for various reasons—because Y/N was the first woman in history to have the opportunity to race at the top level of motorsport, her debut in Formula 1, her young age, and the fact of what kind of past Senna had with his previous teammates—with each passing month the doubts started to going away.

The girl handled herself on the track incredibly well, and since McLaren did not disappoint with their cars, she practically returned from every race with points, effectively shutting the mouths of all those who spoke unfavorably about her.

Even Ayrton himself, who was initially the most unconvinced about the boss's decision, also didn't need much to change his mind about her. At first, he approached her with distance, fearing that her joining the team might cause even more damage than when they had Prost in reserve. As it turned out, the girl was not his enemy; often, he himself silenced all those who attacked her and questioned her abilities.

Senna saw that she looked up at him as her authority. She never explicitly told him, but it was evident how she listened carefully to his advice, asked when she had doubts, and consulted almost everything only with him, although she had a whole crowd of people around her.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief seeing that they tolerated each other and there were no forecasts for them to repeat the Senna-Prost scenario. However, tolerating each other was an understatement, because Ayrton would never invite someone to his family's sides whom he merely tolerated. The Brazilian didn't admit it out loud, but he liked the girl. Sometimes he even caught himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, and when she was, he smiled a lot more in her company, whereas McLaren's garage used to be a place of nerves and tense atmosphere for him.

Yes, if someone asked him about Y/N, Ayrton would say she was his friend. Someone he never had after leaving Brazil.

"How do I say in Portugese that I can't eat anymore?"

The girl asked, lying on her towel stretched out on the hull of the motorboat belonging to the Senna family.

Y/N shielded the sun with her hand and glanced at Ayrton, who laughed at her question, sitting next to her and smoking a cigarette.

"It's not funny, your mom wants to fatten me up so that I'm heavier and slower than you on the track."

"Não aguento mais, tô chei", but even if you say it in Portugese, my mom won't listen to you anyway."

"I've never eaten such delicious food, but when we get back, I probably won't fit into my clothes anymore."

He released smoke from his lungs and involuntarily glanced at her when she turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Her hair, still wet from bathing in the lake, stuck to her shoulders, and her skin, once pale, slowly began to take on a blush from the sun.

"You look good, so don't worry."

"I didn't say I would look bad, just that I won't fit into my pants anymore."

"As long as you can fit into the car, you'll be fine."

The girl snorted, "Well, in that case, I have quite a reserve."

Y/N gathered her hair behind her shoulder and settled more comfortably, exposing herself to the pleasantly warming rays of the sun. Ayrton glanced down her body and only when the heat from his cigarette burned his fingers a little, he snap out of it. Did he really like the girl, or was it just that he spent so much time with her that he got used to her? He didn't know the answer to that question, but he knew that sometimes he found himself staring at her for a bit too long. Despite being a few years younger than him, she had feminine charms. He also objectively thought that the girl was attractive.

She didn't have much of a different opinion about him either because in her eyes, Ayrton was indeed a handsome man. He was tall, athletic, had beautiful brown eyes and hair of the same color, which often fell in curls onto his forehead. She liked his smile and the way he wrinkled his nose, which, like most of his body, was covered in freckles. But Ayrton appealed to her only as an older teammate, someone who was completely out of her reach, and for whom she was probably just an insignificant kid. At least that's what she thought.

They spent time at the lake until late afternoon, as for dinner, besides Ayrton's parents, his sister with Bruno, his nephew, was also supposed to appear. Upon returning to the Senna family's home, the girl took only a quick shower and threw on a thin, white dress because even though the day was slowly coming to an end, the temperature was still high. They spent the evening on the terrace, and time passed in a very pleasant atmosphere. Mrs. Senna made sure that only delicious dishes appeared on the table, while Mr. da Silva entertained the company with stories and jokes. Although Y/N didn't speak anything in Portugese except for the short phrases Ayrton had taught her, there were no communication problems for a moment. At one point, little Bruno grabbed the radio and turned up the volume, pulling the girl by the hand and inviting her to dance. The girl, already somewhat tipsy from wine, agreed without hesitation and followed the six-year-old, dancing with him barefoot on the still warm concrete. Ayrton's mother and sister sang along with the song, his father clapped his hands, and Ayrton himself looked at the scene with tenderness, laughing and sipping his beer. She took the boy in her arms and spun with him, dancing, to which Bruno laughed out loud. Although Ayrton's family had only met Y/N a few days ago, he was convinced, seeing with his own eyes, how much they liked her. It meant a lot to him.

"Tio, agora tio Ayrton!"

Bruno shouted and pointed at the man when a new song started playing. Ayrton laughed and shook his head, to which his sister started pulling his arm and, to the sounds of approval from the family, he stood up and approached the girl, who put the boy down on the ground.

"Querida senhora," he extended his hand towards her, slightly bowing, "may I?"

Y/N chuckled and nodded, extending her hand, which was met with numerous shouts and whistles.

"I can't dance, I can't dance at all."

She said through laughter when he pulled her closer and placed his hand on her waist.

"Everyone can dance to Brazilian rhythms, trust me."

Ayrton replied with an assuring smile and spinned her around, catching her again after a moment. They danced, understanding each other without words, laughing only when one of them accidentally bumped into someone or stepped on someone's foot.

The girl didn't know if her cheeks were burning from the sun, the alcohol, or the fact that she felt embarrassed by being so close to him. But she felt light and happy enough not to dwell on it. She wanted this evening to last as long as possible.

However, at some point, Bruno fell asleep on the chair, and Vivianne took him in her arms, announcing that she would put him to bed and she will also take a rest, wishing everyone a good night. Ayrton's mother, seeing that his dad had had enough beer, took him by the arm and, amid numerous protests, escorted him inside. The girl helped carry the dishes to the kitchen, and when she brought in the last batch of plates, Ayrton's mother hugged her tightly.

Y/N returned her embrace with a smile, wishing her a good night before returning to the terrace.

Seeing the expression on her face, Ayrton smiled too.

"They liked you, but I'm sure you noticed that yourself."

"They are very kind," the girl replied, closing the terrace doors, "you have a truly wonderful family."

Y/N approached the table and took a chair to sit on it, but Ayrton straightened up and patted his knees, indicating that she should sit on them. The girl accepted the invitation without protest and sat on them sideways, embracing him around the neck.

"I'm glad you agreed to come here with me," he said, looking into her eyes, to which she smiled.

"I'm glad you invited me."

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, she on his lap, with her hand on his bare shoulders, he with one hand on her waist and the other caressing her exposed thigh. He raised his hand and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, touching her flushed cheek. The girl smiled at his gesture and closed her eyes.

"You're important to me, you know?"

"I am?"

She asked, looking at him again.

Ayrton nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Y/N threaded her fingers into the hair resting at the base of his neck, stroking it lightly. At one point, without thinking or saying a word, he leaned towards her and kissed her. She kissed him back, touching his cheek with her other hand. Ayrton didn't break the kiss, he just hugged her tighter, pressing their bodies together. Y/N was returning each of his kisses and after a while their tongues started their love dance, rubbing against each other. Even though they were both a bit drunk, Ayrton wasn't sure how much he could afford. However, when she slightly opened her legs, giving him a silent invitation, he squeezed her thigh to which she sighed. He smiled against her lips, continuing to kiss her. He stroked her leg, moving higher and higher with each movement. When he felt the fabric of her underwear with his fingertips, he pulled away slightly, wanting to look at her face and see her reaction, but she pulled him closer again, connecting their lips in a kiss.

"Do not stop"

Ayrton smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss in response. He ran his fingers over her pussy and she purred softly. He began to slowly massage her through the fabric of her panties, but when they began to get in the way after some time, he pulled them off her with a quick movement.

His lips soon moved to her neck, marking it with kisses. She tilted her head, giving him better access to her. Ayrton accidentally slipped the strap of her dress, but neither of them cared. The girl noticed it only when he sucked on her nipple, which made her moan involuntarily.

"You have to be quiet, can you do that?"

He asked quietly, glancing at her ecstatic face. She just licked her lips and quickly nodded. He ran his tongue over her nipple again, his hand still massaging her pussy. When he felt how wet she was, he slowly inserted his finger into her, but carefully watched her face, continuing to caress her breasts with his mouth. He looked at her, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page. However, his actions were perceived with enthusiasm, as the girl tilted her head back, letting out a muffled moans from her pursed lips. Ayrton smiled to himself, still peppering her breasts with kisses. He inserted his finger all the way and started moving it, expertly nudging her inner, sensitive spot. Y/N had a hard time staying quiet, especially when he added a second finger and his movements inside her started getting more precise and decisive. The girl covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed his wrist with the other and pushed him harder into herself, feeling that she was only seconds away from orgasm.

"Ayrton, I- oh my god…"

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck again and dug her nails into his bare shoulder.

"Kiss me, quick"

He said quietly, his breathing also quickening. She complied with his command and kissed him, making him muffle her moans with his mouth. Y/N came on his hand soon after, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head back. After a few moments, the girl sat up straight again, trying to calm her breathing. As she slowly began to realize what had actually happened, the blush on her cheeks intensified even more. She looked at him uncertainly, he laughed seeing her reaction and kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't look so innocent, you're quite a good one."

The girl felt ashamed and closed her eyes, cuddling into him, and he hugged her tightly.

"Promise me that no one in your family will sit in this chair for breakfast."

Ayrton chuckled and rubbed his hand on her back.

"I promise, don't worry about it," he rested his cheek on her head, "We can go somewhere else if you want."

The girl raised her head and looked at him.

"I won't be able to keep quiet, Ayrton. Your parents-" "Don't worry," he interrupted her, taking her panties thrown on the chair next to them and handing them to her hand, "I'll make sure you keep your mouth busy."

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #as12 #ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #classic f1

217 notes · View notes

ryker-writes · 8 months

Text

Sibling with a chronic illness (part 2)

This is a second part to one of my favorite things I've written! It's basically angst with the characters who have a younger sibling with a chronic illness and they keep it hidden from their older sibling because they don't want them to suffer more. The younger sibling ends up going into a coma and the doctor reveals to the character that they don't have much time left

First part here

Request rules and Masterlists

Characters: Riddle, Azul, Kalim, Vil

Riddle:

perfection

it was demanded of you from you and Riddle's mother and you were raised to eternally abide by that

anything less than the perfect life that your mother had planned was not accepted

but life always had a funny way of twisting things around

so when you got sick, you kept it hidden from everyone in fear of your mom finding out

and everyone included Riddle

you loved Riddle, and he was a very good brother, but he was...a lot like her and a natural worrier

Riddle had already been through so much with his overblot, and you didn't want to bring more negative feelings upon him

he deserved to be happy and you didn't want to disturb that at all

so you kept it from him

of course, it wasn't that easy

as time passed, you grew more sick, and even started coughing up blood

you were lucky enough that Riddle didn't notice how often you went to the bathroom to cough up blood

but he did notice once that you had a red stain on your clothing

Heartslabyul was often full of red paint for the roses and you were able to convince him it was just paint

it wasn't an act you could keep up forever

as the days went by, you could feel yourself growing weaker and weaker

the worst of it was at an unbirthday party

as usual, Riddle had pushed everyone to make sure this party was incredible

it was exausting, but you pushed yourself to get through it

...maybe you pushed yourself too hard

because when it was time to actually celebrate, the world started spinning and you felt your legs give out from under you before...nothing

Riddle nearly had a heart attack when you collapsed

of course, the party was immediately cast aside as he started shouting orders to the others before taking you to the infirmary

Riddle had never walked through the school faster, in fact he was running

A school rule was not to run in the halls, but right now, he didn't care

No one wanted to get in his way

but upon bringing you to the infirmary, he received the worst news

you were in a coma, and you were dying

Riddle felt stupid

how could he not know? How could he not see the signs?

His own sibling was dying and he couldn't do anything about it

he'd never felt so...helpless

his own mother was a doctor, he should've noticed sooner

he should've helped you

why? why would you hide it from him?

you two were supposed to be close and be able to tell each other anything

but you didn't tell him, and he could do nothing

Riddle had decided to remain by your side for as long as he could, even if it meant not attending classes

because you were more important to him than any rule could ever be

Azul:

Azul an you have always been very close as siblings

growing up, you were about the only one he had for a long time

you were his strength when he was sad and crying because of what others would say

even as you two kept growing and he grew stronger, you two were just as close as ever

he told you everything

you told him...almost everything

there was one thing you didn't tell him: you were sick

it wasn't any normal sickness either, this one won't go away

but you just couldn't tell Azul

you were his strength, and he had come so far from the octomer he used to be

he wasn't as sad anymore and he was doing really well for himself now

and you...you didn't want to ruin that

you'd hate to see him cry again

so you kept it to yourself and Azul was blissfully unaware

he never commented on how you would quickly run off to the bathroom to cough up blood

perhaps he was too buried in his work to even notice

not that you minded, it made it easier to hide

you just had to be careful around the observant eyes of Jade

he would likely report anything suspicious he saw about your behavior to Azul

since no one ever confronted you about it, you assumed that he didn't notice

however...there was no way Azul didn't notice when you collapsed onto the floor of the VIP room

it was right in front of him too

to say Azul was panicking when he saw you collapse was an understatement

he thought his heart nearly stopped, and he was desperately hoping that didn't happen to you

Azul was quick to abandon his current work to take you to the infirmary

it was there that he thought his heart actually did stop

the doctor told him that you had fallen into a coma after collapsing, and you didn't have much time left

he'd be lying if he said he didn't blame himself

you two were supposed to be able to tell each other anything, but you kept this big secret from him for who knows how long

now here you were, laying unconscious in the infirmary bed with Azul by your side

he wasn't going to leave your side, but he also wasn't just going to sit around and do nothing

the Monstro Lounge was being run by Jade during Azul's absence and Azul spent nearly every waking moment by your side studying and researching to find anything that could help you

he was determined there was some way to help you

the doctors just haven't found it yet

you were his sibling, and Azul needed you with him through everything

you were always his support, but now it was his time to be yours

and for you, he would pay any price and make any deal just for you to be awake again

Kalim:

Kalim was always so happy

Even as you two were growing up, his cheerful energy always brightened any room

he was an amazing older brother

whenever you were feeling down, he would do anything he could just to see you smile again

it was very rare to ever see him sad or upset about something

that's exactly why you couldn't tell him the truth

you were very sick, to the point that you were even coughing up blood

thankfully Kalim never seemed to notice

he was always lost in his little world, and trying to get others to join him

if you were being honest, seeing how happy he always was brought you comfort despite your illness

Kalim deserves to be happy

But telling him would mean getting rid of his smile, and you just couldn't do that to him

so you kept it hidden

Kalim was blissfully unaware of your growing sickness and how it seemed to get worse each passing day

even when you got to the point of coughing up blood, he never noticed

in a way you've very happy to have a brother who doesn't pay such close attention

but that would only last so long

after all, it's hard not to notice his sibling passing out at one of his own parties

and for once, the party was put aside regardless who or what it was thrown for

you were a bigger priority to him than any party

Kalim hated to leave parties, but he didn't think twice about it this time

he took you to the infirmary while Jamil handled the aftermath of panic at the party

the entire way to the infirmary, Kalim was fighting tears

he was just so worried

it only seemed to get worse once the doctor saw you, and gave Kalim the bad news

you had fallen into a coma, and you didn't have much time left

Kalim sat in disbelief for a few minutes after that

his sibling...was dying?

how could this happen?

how did he not know?

why didn't you tell him?

there has to be a cure right?

the doctor had told him there wasn't a cure, and Kalim was destroyed

Kalim was lost

he didn't know what to do, but he couldn't just carry on while you were there in a coma

so he waited patiently by your bedside for the day when you would finally wake up

he spent his days rambling to you about things he heard are going on around the school

and he spent his nights crying and quietly begging for you to wake up

Vil:

growing up as a Schoenheit, there was a certain pressure to always look and be your best outside your home

Your brother Vil, was always there to help you with that

he was always accepting of you and helping you whenever you needed it

and when you weren't your best in public, Vil always covered for you

even when you weren't in public, Vil was there for you

that's probably why it was so hard to tell him what the doctor said

the truth was that you were sick, and there was no cure

but how were you supposed to tell Vil that?

you knew that if he found out, he would deny that there's no cure and even cancel a lot of his appointments to find a cure or help you

those jobs of his and all his appointments...that's his career

it's what makes him happy

you couldn't bring yourself to tell him and put a stop to that

he would try to help you and take care of you all the time as kids, so you thought maybe this time, you can do what's best for him

but it was hard to keep it hidden

Vil was observant, and Rook being around all the time didn't help

you would often rush off to the bathroom only to cough up blood, but you had to be extra careful not to have a single stain on you or anywhere in the bathroom in case they notice

even if you were sure there wasn't a stain, one of them would often ask if you were okay

you were always quick to say you were, but you often wonder if they've caught on

maybe they should have

because as the days passed, your illness got worse

you could feel your body getting weaker, and everything seemed more bittersweet

something wasn't right with you, you could tell

and you should've said something

Vil had you come to his room like usual so the two of you could do his special skin care routine

it was usually a very nice time for the two of you to chat and hang out without other people staring at you

but Vil knew something was wrong the second your eyes started closing

"Are you alright? You shouldn't be tired so early."

Vil lightly shook you when you didn't respond before realizing that you were unconscious

without a moment of hesitation, he abandoned the skin care routine in favor of taking you to the infirmary

the students of Night Raven College were shocked

THE Vil Schoenheit was walking around with a halfway done skin care routine, and he looked slightly distressed

rumors were quick to spread, Vil didn't care

you were his priority right now

he didn't care what anyone was thinking, until the doctor revealed the truth to him

you were in a coma and you didn't have much time left

at that point, he only cared what you were thinking

how could you not tell him?

Why didn't you tell him?

He tried to think of many reasons, not a single one good enough

and how did he not notice?

Vil used to pride himself on knowing when you needed help and being there

it was part of your bond as siblings

but you needed help all this time, and he wasn't there

you kept him from helping

he was angry and heartbroken

even though you were unconscious, he spent a lot of time lecturing you about how stupid you were for hiding this from him

whenever Rook or anyone else was there to check on you or him, he would smile and calmly tell them that you were going to be fine

he didn't seem worried in the slightest

but it's only after everyone left that he held your hand and let the tears fall

he didn't care about the mascara running down his face, how his eyes would be puffy after, how horrible his posture is, or even how messy his hair and clothing looked right now

all he cared about was you waking up

554 notes · View notes