tessab154 - Tumblr blog

tessab154 · 22 days ago

Text

Our Girl

Warnings: body shaming, panic attack, insecurity, idiots in love, kissing, flirty comments, couple being obsessed with each other. if there is anything I missed, please let me know!

word count: 3.8k before images

You were in one of the hottest countries in the world with Lando. Abu Dhabi was gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. But boy was it hot. You had tried to pack clothes that would be good for the weather, but you didn’t want clothes that made you shapeless. Being friends with Lando meant that you would likely be on camera at least once, especially with the boy having the energy of a 5-year-old and being best friends with anyone and everyone on the grid. And so, with Lando being so well loved, you knew that if you were seen with him, then people would notice the big girl standing in the back constantly. Your outfit had to be perfect, at least to you. In your head, if your outfit had to be perfect to try and reduce the fallout that would no doubt come for you on Twitter.

You loved Lando, probably more than you should, not that you would tell him. But the women that he had been seen with, were gorgeous. You keep telling yourself that you're gorgeous too but these were model-worthy women, and that, as you had been told many times, were not. So this outfit had to be perfect. It had to be perfect for him, for you, for all the women that looked like you.

So this is how you ended up standing in a room with Lando’s baggage as well as your own, anxiety filling you after you had been told at reception that there was only one room left. And to make things worse? It only had one bed. This hadn’t been a problem before, having known him since you were 5, you had shared a bed plenty of times, but now? Now you were head over heels in love with the curly-haired man. And you had to pretend that you weren't. But that wasn’t your biggest problem right now. Right now, your biggest problem was getting ready and getting to the grid on time, you could tell Lando about the bed situation later. And anyway, there was a sofa, you could try and cover yourself up with the end blanket off of the bed, on the sofa. Lando would need the bed anyway, he has the biggest job to do here. And so to sum it all up, all of these reasons are what led you to stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, nearly in tears as you looked at your reflection. You didn’t hate your body, in fact, you were your biggest fan, but the anxiety of everything was eating you up from the inside out. Every piece of fabric felt like it was clinging to your body. You have to take a deep breath you keep telling yourself.

Your phone ringing from the desk nearby pulled you from your anxiety-ridden trance. Picking up your phone you see Lando’s contact lighting up your phone screen. The image itself makes you laugh. The man had made it as a surprise to make you laugh when you were having a bad day a few weeks ago even though it had some pictures in it that he hated. And he wouldn’t tell you, but he would use the worst images of him in the universe again if it made you smile the way it did again.

Although the picture made you smile, the anxiety still bubbling within you made your thumb hesitate over the reject button before pressing the accept button.

L: Hello?

Y/N: Lando? What’s up? Is everything okay? Are you h-?

L: I’m okay, breath, I'm okay. I just wanted to ask what room I’m in.

Fuck.

Y/N: Uh, about that…

The line stayed quiet as Lando waited for you to continue, and realising that you weren’t, he tried to push you for your answer as gently as possible

L: yeah?

Y/N: Sotheysortofmessedupandtheresonlyonehotelroombetweenthetwoofusanditonlyhasonebed.

L: What? Remember what I said about breathing? Take a breath and then tell me, again. Okay?

Taking what might have been the biggest breath of your life you repeat yourself

Y/N: They messed up the rooms

L: okay?

Y/N: And there’s only one hotel room between the two of us

L: right…

Y/N: it only has one bed

L: Darlin’ I'm not seeing the problem here, we’ve shared a bed before. What room are we in?

Y/N: 410

L: Okay, I’ll see you in a minute okay

Y/N: Okay.

You both hang up the one at the same time, something that has come with being friends for such a long time. With a shaky breath, you throw your phone back onto the desk before making your way to hide in the bathroom knowing that Lando would want to know why you’re so anxious about sharing a bed all of a sudden. You catch yourself in the mirror again, and somehow you hate how you look even more than in the lights of the bedroom. Your hands feel cold all of a sudden, and that’s when you look down at them to realise that your hands are gripping the marble counter. The coldness of the counter does nothing to help calm down the feeling of anxiety that is threatening to bubble over. Tears begin to cloud your vision, building up over your vision, leaving everything blurry. You couldn’t help but feel that everything about your outfit was wrong. The corset is too tight, the skirt too long, the shoes too high, and your hair too tight. You had wanted to surprise Lando with your outfit. Hoping that maybe it might change the way he looks at you. But the more you look at yourself in the mirror the more you doubt it. Your brain reminds you of his friends, his ex-girlfriends, hell even his colleagues.

Trying to loosen the ribbon at the back of your corset, you felt like the room was closing in around you. The gesture of having an old McLaren t-shirt of his turned into a corset, his name and number being the main focus of it. You had tried to pair it with a silk black skirt. You wanted to try and match the skirt to the rest of the outfit by wearing some flatform sandals with a silver buckle. Around your neck, you were trying to put on a silver necklace with the initial ‘L’ hanging down from the chain. Your hair was pulled back from around your face and pulled into an elegant silver claw clip. From your ears was a pair of simple diamond studs that had a climber attached to it, that Lando had brought you for your birthday after he signed his first contract with McLaren. And finally, you had some simple silver bracelets, an orange beaded bracelet with LN in heart-shaped beads, and some simple silver diamond rings that your parents had gifted you for your 21st birthday. When you had planned the outfit, it all felt perfect, but now it felt oh so wrong. Too in your head about everything, you hadn’t noticed Lando enter the hotel room, let alone the bathroom. It wasn't till you felt his warm arms surround you that you even noticed he was there.

“Whats wrong darlin’,” he asks, his arms wrapped around your waist. His voice and warmth surrounding you made the tears finally fall from your eyes. Your anxiety finally bubbling over.

“Everything” you manage to get out before the sobs quickly follow. Lando doesn’t say anything, a thousand thoughts running through his head as he sees his best friend break down in his arms. He looks around the room, noticing your washbag by the shower, your makeup bag on the counter and a necklace near the edge of the sink. “Let's sit down,” Lando says, trying to take a few steps backwards to be able to lean against the wall. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for you to freak out as he pulled you back.

Your breath suddenly became laboured, the tears began falling quicker. And the safe feeling of Lando’s arms around you? Suddenly they all felt too suffocating. Why was he even here? Why did he ask you? He has plenty of other friends that were so much better looking. Was he trying to embarrass you by bringing you here? Trying to clear your sight, you look around the room trying to find the escape, but nothing was working and it felt like the walls were getting closer and closer to each other. You feel your body go into auto-drive as you take a few steps back. Suddenly, your back hit the glass of the shower door. The cold of the glass sends you even further into a spiral.

Lando stood in the corner of the room watching you. He had seen you have an anxiety attack before but never as bad as this. He was panicking inside but he knew that if you were able to see him and saw him freaking out, you would freak out more. Taking a deep breath, he made his way towards you once more.

“Y/N?” You heard him ask. But your mind was running faster than his McLaren car. You tried to respond but you couldn’t. Your vision was grey and your body felt like it was shaking enough for people to think that there was an earthquake.

Trying to think back to how he had calmed you down before during an anxiety attack, Lando finally remembered. He quickly ran out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, first running towards the bed, he ripped the heavy blanket from the foot of the bed before running to his suitcase, practically throwing it to the floor, he unzipped it and pulled the first hoodie he saw from the neat piles of clothes. Having all of the items he needed, he sped back to the bathroom, noticing you still spiralling near the shower. Not wanting to scare you he moved slowly towards you. He took his hoodie, placed it into your hands, and pushed your hands towards your face. He let out a breath of relief when he saw you pause for a second. But the relief didn’t last very long when the sobs became even harder. He knew what he needed to do next. He took the blanket and wrapped you in it as tightly as possible before pulling you into his arms once again.

You didn’t know what was happening but all you could smell was Lando and the pressure of something wrapped around you. The smell of him and the pressure helping you to slowly come back down to earth. You push your face further into whatever it was that smelt like him. The dizzy feeling not wanting to leave you be just yet.

Seeing you slowly calm down, Lando knew that this would probably be the best moment to pull you towards the floor. Holding onto you, he began crouching down, your body following him slowly. And when he managed to get to the floor, he leaned against the wall near the shower door and pulled you close to him. From here he could hear your breathing slow down, the sobs turning to sniffles. And when the sniffles slowly stopped, he spoke

“What's wrong, love?” he asked, his voice soft and yet full of worry. The girl in his arms doesn’t respond.

“Sweetheart?” he prods. There is a pause before the woman speaks. “You shouldn’t be seen with me” she almost whispers. Lando stills his hand from where it was running up and down her arm. “What?” he responds. His voice was almost angry. You didn’t respond. Lando pushed himself forward. Pushing you up so that he could look into your eyes.

You could feel the anxiety bubble up again as you saw so many emotions in his beautiful eyes. “Why shouldn’t I be seen with you? I mean look at you!” He speaks, his voice calm but confused. “Exactly,” you mutter hoping that he doesn’t hear you. But, he did. “Has someone said something to you?” he asks, trying to figure out what had caused you to feel this way. “I saw a comment on the Quadrant Instagram” you start, feeling the tears in your eyes begin to well up again. You keep your head down not wanting to make eye contact with the man in front of you. “It was the one where you’d asked me to model one of your t-shirts, where we were matching” you finish with a sniffle. You look at Lando quickly before looking away when you see the anger on his face. “They said, that you deserve better friends and that someone as big as me shouldn’t even be in the same room as you in case I crush you” you say, the feeling of getting what someone had said off your chest making you feel like you can breathe a little bit better. “And then the receptionist earlier, recognised me from the pictures where I’ve been seen with you, and she was nice to my face, but when I had gone behind the wall to put some stuff back into my backpack, I heard her say-” you spoke before being cut off by Lando’s angry voice “What did she say?” “she said” you pause “as if she thinks that god of a man would even sleep in the same bed as her fatass. He’s probably worried she’d turn over in the night and crush him to death. Fat bitch” By the end of your sentence, Lando had moved to stand up and was moving towards the bathroom door. “Please don’t leave me,” you said into the quiet room as Lando got to the door. He stopped with his hand on the door handle, his knuckles white as he tried to reign in his anger at what he had been told.

—--------------------- lando pov

How fucking dare that woman say anything about his girl. What gave her the right to say something so disgusting? So untrue? The door handle beginning to feel warm in his hand is what brought him back to reality. He turned to see the woman who had always been so strong, so self-confident about herself, in pieces on their hotel bathroom floor. It’s something he never thought he would see. And he didn’t know how to deal with it. Should he call someone? No. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this. He sighed, seeing you sitting on the floor, still looking so gorgeous, with your head down and leaning against the shower door. He moves to sit next to you again, sitting as close as possible to you. Close enough that he could smell your signature sweet perfume. Close enough that he can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. He saw you cautiously place your head on his shoulder, making him smile. He moves his arm so that you can cuddle up to him easier. His fingers trace the material of your shirt. Looking down, he realises it's a corset, and the sight makes him blush. The fabric of the material feels familiar to him. He pushes you to sit up a little bit. And in that moment, he realises. He realises that he has been in love with you. He has been since he was 14 when you were the first person to run to him to celebrate his CIK-FIA World Championship. Maybe he’d just been pretending this whole time that he didn’t love you, or maybe he didn’t want to believe it, in case it meant that he would lose you. He looks down at your outfit, finally noticing the corset properly. His cheeks heat up when he realises what it is. It was his top that he had signed for her after his first podium, he couldn’t believe that you would have kept the t-shirt this long and how you’d managed to keep it in good condition from the 2020 Austrian Grand Prix champagne shower. The corset had his surname (and he definitely hadn’t had dreams in the past of it being your surname too, absolutely not) written right at the top with his number underneath. He didn’t know yet, but if he spun you around his signature would be on the back. Then he saw the necklace hung delicately around your neck, the silver chain elongating your neck as it shone beautifully from the base of your neck. And one day he hoped that it could be his lips there instead, if you’d let him. It took him a few more seconds to realise that it was his initial that was hanging around your neck. The more he took you in the more he noticed the little details. The orange bracelet around your wrist, his initials. The earrings in your slightly red ears, the ones he had brought you. The rings that he had helped your parents choose for your 21st adorned your hands that he’d always loved were smaller than his. He took all of you in, finally seeing you. Finally realising that you were his girl. Looking into your eyes, he saw how red they were, and he wondered how many times you had cried because of his fans. “I'm so sorry” he whispered, raising his hands to place them between your neck and your jaw. “If I had known that my fans would make you feel like this I would never have ever started racing” He spoke quietly to her, his thumb rubbing back and forth gently on her cheek. “I love you so much” he told her. Never meaning anything more.

y/n pov —------------------------

The two of you had told each other multiple times that you loved each other. Your heart broke a little bit when your mind told you that he would only ever meant that as a sibling, or a friend at most. Your heart raced as you felt him rest his forehead against yours, his thumb still rubbing soothing swipes against your tear soaked cheeks. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you sat in the bathroom. “Can i tell you something?” Lando whispered, pulling back from you slightly, almost regretting it when he saw the worry return to your eyes. “Do you remember when we were 14?” he asked. The memories came flooding back, making a smile appear on your face. “I remember when you came running past the security, even past my parents and straight at me just as I’d gotten out of the kart. It was that moment, with your arms wrapped around my neck and my arms wrapped around you that I realised I was head over heels in love with you. I’ve been trying to keep it to myself for the last 10 years, but I can’t do it anymore. I need the world to know you’re my girl. I love you, more than racing, more than life, more than stroopwafel’s” he said, the smile getting bigger at the end of the sentence. “I remember nearing pushing you over with how hard i was hugging you and nearly being told off by your coach because we nearly fell onto the kart. I’d never seen you smile so big. But” you paused looking up at him, seeing the worry flash across his eyes at your statement “i fell inlove with you when you tried horse riding for the first time, and you fell off. You looked straight at me and you had the worst hair cut but you put your thumbs up at me and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live in this world if you werent in it. I tried dating other people, thinking I would finally be able to get over you, but i’ve never been able to get over you. My exs all said that they could see how in love with you I was and they couldn’t compete against it. You’d always have my heart. And they’re right, Lando. I love you more than anything in this world. I’ve only ever been able to call you my man in my dreams” you spoke, blushing towards the end of your sentence.

“In your dreams, huh?” Lando teased, smirking. “Shut up” you mumbled, suddenly feeling very self conscious again. You felt Lando’s fingers under your chin, pulling it so that you would look up at him. “Lets not waste anymore time. Be mine?” he asks you, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. “Lemme think about it” you teased. “I suppose I can spare some time for you, but it’s on one condition” you continued. “Which is?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “Kiss me”. And that he did. You have never had such a passionate kiss in your life. It felt like every missed moment, every almost moment was being poured into the kiss. And if the kisses were like this, you never wanted to stop kissing him. But unfortunately, Lando’s phone began ringing. He groaned into your lips, not wanting this moment to end. Ultimately, it was you that pulled away. “You should answer that, boyfriend” you said. The word making him smile as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “It’s Zak, but he wants to video call” he said nervously trying to regulate his emotions enough to speak to his boss.

“Lando? Where are you? Are you still at the hotel? You’re lucky the hotel is literally across the street. Media starts in 10 minutes. Be here, or we will be having a talk.” the older man spoke, barely letting the younger man have a chance to get a word in.

“Yes, Zak” he said, still barely containing his smile. The men nodded at each other before hanging up the phone. Lando placed his phone back onto the floor before pulling you back into a kiss.

Begrudgingly, Lando pulled away, pushing himself to stand up. Then, he held his hands out to you. He managed to pull you up gracefully enough, and pulled you into him, pulling you in for another kiss, which made you begin to giggle. Your giggles set off lando’s giggles, and then you and Lando were holding onto each other, laughing. Lando moved his hands to hold your face again.

“I need to go, but I’ll get Oscar, Max and the Guys to send their girlfriends in. I know you’re anxious, but I promise you’ll love them, and they’ll love you. And,” he said pulling you into a quick kiss, again, “I’ll see you soon, Girlfriend”. The words made your heart flutter. Lando stepped away, one of his hands still holding onto yours. He turned, about to finally make his way out of the bathroom when he came turning back to you. He pulled you into another passionate kiss. And as he pulled away he whispered into your ear “You look absolutely stunning, baby”. The pet name made you blush, which in turn made Lando smirk. He kissed your forehead, squeezed your hand and made his way out of the room. Away from his girl.

Lando to his boys:

wags group chat:

y/n posted to Instagram

ynusername: today I became part of something I never thought I would. I made friends younger I could only dream about making. Younger me, if you could see me now, we made it. In more ways than one. Thank you @/landonorris for sending this angels my way and also for making me your girl.

landonorris: my girl

------ user 1: WHAT?!

------ user 2: we've been seeing this coming for years! FINALLY!

carmenmmundt: our girl

-------- landonorris: my girl

------- lilyzneimer: our girl x 2

------- flavy.barla: our girl x 3

------- francisca.gomes: our girl x 4

------- heidiberger_: our girl x 5

------- alexandrassaintmleux: our girl x 6

-------lilymhe: our girl x 7

------- iamrebeccad: our girl x 8

------- tiffanycromwell: our girl x 9

------- logjorup: our girl x 10

------ kellypiquet: our girl x 11

------ carolamtz1: our girl x 12

------ landonorris: MY GIRL

The corset in question (I've cropped my own face out, please no hate)

Let me know if you guys want a part two! And if you want to be tagged in part two!

#lando norris x plus size reader #lando fluff #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #f1 x plus size reader #WAG

231 notes · View notes

tessab154 · 22 days ago

Note

🥺 it so sweet I got a tooth ache

Can you do driver reader, that is one of the driver that crashes during the Brazil race and causes a red flag. Can she be hurt (broken arm or smth)

I love your blog so much🤌🔥

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Rain

The sound of rain drummed steadily against the asphalt, creating a chaotic symphony that echoed throughout the Interlagos circuit. It was the Brazilian Grand Prix, and the atmosphere was electric, charged with anticipation and anxiety. Yn, the first female driver for RedBull, sat in her car on the grid, heart racing, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. She glanced at the wet track ahead and could feel the tension in the air, punctuated by the distant rumble of thunder.

“Okay, Yn, focus,” her race engineer JD's voice crackled through the radio, breaking her concentration. “It’s going to be tricky out there. We’ve already seen a couple of red flags, and the conditions are only getting worse. Just take it slow, especially in the first few laps.”

“Got it, JD. I’m just going to keep my head down and stay out of trouble,” she replied, trying to mask the nerves creeping into her voice.

“Remember, we’re in it for the long game. You’re in second, just behind Max. Let’s see how it plays out, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful. Thanks!” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The lights went out, and she surged forward, gripping the wheel tightly as she navigated the treacherous turns.

The rain poured relentlessly, causing visibility to plummet. The roar of engines mixed with the sound of rain, creating an overwhelming cacophony. As they completed the first lap, Yn found herself trailing closely behind Max. The two Red Bull cars danced across the slick track, carving their paths through the rain.

“Good job, Yn. Keep up with Max,” JD encouraged as she skillfully maneuvered her way through the corners.

But the rain was unforgiving. A few laps later, a sudden jolt of loss of traction sent her heart into her throat.

“JD! I’m slipping!” she shouted, trying to regain control of the car.

“Stay calm, Yn! Just counter-steer!” JD’s voice was urgent, but Yn could feel the tires struggling for grip on the waterlogged track. Suddenly, the car spun wildly, and before she knew it, her heart sank as the barriers rushed toward her.

BANG!

The impact reverberated throughout her body, and her vision blurred. The world outside turned chaotic; sirens blared, and officials waved red flags frantically.

************************************************

In the hospital, Yn was conscious but barely coherent. Her body ached, and she felt detached from reality as the medical staff worked quickly around her. She heard snippets of conversation, the beeping of machines, and the distant sounds of the race still going on outside.

Meanwhile, the other drivers were huddled in the waiting room, anxiety etched on their faces. Lando paced back and forth, glancing toward the door every few seconds.

“Why isn’t there any news yet?” he asked, running a hand through his damp hair.

“They’re probably just being thorough,” George said, trying to keep his tone light, though his worry was evident. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through.”

“Yeah, but she’s only eighteen,” Carlos added, looking serious. “It shouldn’t have happened. She was doing so well.”

“Max is taking it hard,” Charles mentioned, nodding toward the corner where Max sat silently, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Just then, the door swung open, and a doctor stepped out. “You’re here for Yn Ln, right? She’s stable, but she’s in pretty bad shape. Five broken ribs and a concussion. She’s asleep right now but is being monitored closely. We’ll let you in shortly.”

The relief was palpable, but worry still clouded the room. They exchanged glances, each trying to mask their fear for their young friend and competitor.

***************************************************

After what felt like an eternity, they were finally allowed to see her. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as they entered the dimly lit room. Yn lay in the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful, a tangle of wires and machines surrounding her. Flowers adorned the table next to her, a bouquet of vibrant blooms brightening the otherwise stark room.

“Look at her,” Lando whispered, stepping forward. “She looks so small.”

“She’s a fighter,” Max said quietly, his eyes glistening. He stepped closer to the bed, placing a hand on the railing. “I should have told her to back off. I should have been more careful.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Max,” Carlos said gently, joining him. “The conditions were terrible.”

George stepped up, looking around. “We should leave her something. Something to remind her we’re all here for her.”

They began placing little tokens around her bedside: a signed card from Lando, a miniature trophy from George, a chilli plushie from Carlos.

“Hey, Yn,” Charles said softly, leaning down so his face was closer to hers. “We’re all here. Just take your time to heal, okay?” Charles moved a bit to the left, placing the flowers with the rest of the things.

Then, Ollie, Yn’s bets friend and partner in crime, stepped forward, his expression softening. He took her hand gently, brushing back a stray hair from her forehead. “You’re going to be alright. Just rest, and we’ll be right here when you wake up.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment as emotion washed over him.

A moment of silence fell over them as they stood vigil by her bedside. The beeping of the machines was a constant reminder of her fragility, but they knew she was strong.

“Can you believe she’s just eighteen and already racing with us?” Lando finally broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t even imagine what I was doing at that age.”

“Probably playing video games,” Ollie teased lightly, earning a chuckle from the others despite the somber atmosphere.

“She’s got so much talent,” Carlos said, glancing back at Yn. “And she’s got all of us rooting for her. That’s what matters.”

Max nodded, his gaze still locked on Yn. “She’s going to bounce back. I believe that.”

The hours passed slowly, filled with whispered conversations and laughter tinged with worry as they reminisced about the race and their shared moments on the track. They each took turns sharing stories, hoping to fill the room with positivity, so Yn could feel the love surrounding her.

Finally, as the night wore on, exhaustion crept in. One by one, they began to drift off, still seated in their chairs, leaving her surrounded by the warmth of friendship, waiting for her to wake up.

****************************************************

As the first light of dawn broke through the clouds, illuminating the hospital room with a gentle glow, Yn stirred slightly in her sleep. The sound of soft murmurs and familiar laughter filtered through her consciousness.

“Look! I think she’s waking up!” George exclaimed softly, shaking Lando awake.

Max leaned forward, his eyes brightening. “Yn, can you hear us?”

With a small groan, Yn blinked open her eyes, squinting at the faces around her. “Ollie?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes! I'm here,buba! We’re here! You’re safe,” Ollie said, his eyes widening with relief, taking her hand in his, softly stroking her hair from her face.

“Hey, don’t try to move too much, petite,” Charles advised, noticing her attempt to sit up. “You’ve had a rough night.”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“You crashed,” Lando said, trying to keep his tone light. “But you’re tough. You’ve got some broken ribs and a concussion, but you’ll be back on track before you know it.”

Yn closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything. “I remember slipping… and then nothing.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” Carlos reassured her. “We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up. You scared us, hermana.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the reality of her situation washed over her. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to keep up.”

Max stepped forward, his expression softening. “You did great, Yn. You’re going to come back from this even stronger.”

“Yeah, and we’ll all be right behind you,” George added, his voice filled with sincerity.

The warmth of their presence surrounded her, giving her the strength she needed. “Thank you, guys. I—I really appreciate it.”

“Rest now,” Ollie said, squeezing her hand gently. “We’ll be here when you wake up again.”

And as Yn drifted back into a peaceful sleep, she felt the undeniable bond of her paddock family.

#formula 1 x reader #brazil #bazil gp #são paulo 2024 #oliver bearman x reader #george russell x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#driver!reader #formula 1

554 notes · View notes

tessab154 · 1 month ago

Text

Im sobbing I loved this soo much

notes || cl16

_______________________________________

summary: lando's sister starts posting notes she gets from a secret boy.

pairing: lando norris x sister!reader - charles leclerc x fem!norris!reader

warnings: use of y/n, sweet sweet fluff, soft launching, charles being the prince he is, lando almost losing his mind, time skipping i guess

faceclaim: sophia birlem

a/n: here’s some fluffy smau and i can totally see charles doing this kind of stuff. enjoy :)

feedback is always appreciated.

MASTERLIST

do not copy/repost/translate my work anywhere!

y/n.norris

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 177,659 more.

y/n.norris back in the paddock for the weekend 💌

view all comments.

username1 oh how i missed this queen

username2 omg omg i'm so excited

landonorris excuse me, what's that on the third slide????

y/n.norris i don't know they were there when i left the garage 😬

username3 🍿👀

lilymhe the smartest norris is back, we have to hang out babes 🫶🏼

y/n.norris yes please!! coffee date tomorrow morning?

lilymhe deal 🙂‍↕️

landonorris smartest??

lilymhe exactly.

username4 ok but i need info on who left those flowers there

username5 same, let the investigations begin 🕵‍♀️

landonorris

tagged y/n.norris and mclaren

liked by mclaren, y/n.norris, f1 and 299,901 more.

landonorris great weekend for the team, glad to have the sis around 🧡 p.s: to whoever left flowers on her car (AGAIN) i don't like you at all 😡

view all comments.

username1 LMAO HE IS PISSED

username2 lando i would leave flowers on her car too tbh

username3 can't blame whoever it was, the girl is pretty

mclaren a pleasure to have you, as always y/n 🧡

y/n.norris tysm guys🫶🏼

username4 that was some romantic move

y/n.norris stop scaring my future boyfriend muppet 🫠

username5 iconic

oscarpiastri please whoever you are stop it or marry her, i can't keep listening to lando's complaints

landonorris MARRY HER?? you are missing the whole point here oscar

y/n.norris

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 301,424 more.

y/n. norris new weekend, new track 🏁 (got to meet the secret admirer btw 🤭)

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username1 OH THAT IS SO SWEET

username2 THE HEART AS THE DOT

username3 I GASPED

mclaren sis spill te tea 🍵 👀

username4 admin is so me

landonorris YOU WHAT

y/n.norris oopsie 🫣

username5 don't know who it is but i love them already

oscarpiastri the fact that i bumped into you together is so funny

y/n.norris i know 😅

landonorris OSCAR TELL ME

oscarpiastri sorry i promised not to

username6 lmao oscar said 🤐

y/n.norris

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 352,661 more.

y/n.norris back home for a min 🤍

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username1 i need one of those in my life😭

username2 the hearts everywhere

username3 it's like his signature now

landonorris OH SO HE IS VISITING NOW??

y/n.norris pretty much yeah 🙂‍↕️

landonorris the audacity, i swear i'm gonna start slashing everyone's tires until someone confesses

mclaren lando please head to the PR office real quick 😊

username4 please universe let them start a relationship that lasts forever

username5 lando your sis is hotter than you

username6 girl please keep sharing the notes with us 😭

y/n.norris will do 🫡

y/n.norris

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc and 370,205 more.

y/n.norris took a break from vroom vrooms, it's beach time 💚 (found that one on my suitcase 🥺)

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username1 the fact that they are together (apparently) and he still gives her notes is so fucking cute

username2 😭🫶🏼

username3 hearts all around i live for this

landonorris sick to my stomach right now

username4 but she seems happy tho

landonorris and i'm even happier for her but I NEED TO KNOW HIS NAME IT'S KILLING ME

y/n.norris take a chill pill bro 🫠

username5 charles i see you liking her posts

username6 most of the drivers do tbh

y/n.norris

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 601,341 more.

y/n.norris cat is out of the bag i guess, so here is my little note to charles: you make me so incredibly happy that every day with you feels like touching the sky. i hope i get to call you mine forever. i love you 🤍

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username1 SOBBING RN

username2 adopt me

username3 the third slide, he looks like an angel 😭

charles_leclerc i am yours forever, i love you mon ange ❤️

username4 STOP THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

landonorris ok you guys are cute together 🙄

username5 even lando has to admit how cute they are

oscarpiastri lovely, thank you for the fun times i had seeing lando almost lose his mind

landonorris not funny at all

username6 HE FINALLY GOT TO SIGN THE NOTE 🥺

mclaren they grow up so fast 🤧

charles_leclerc

tagged y/n.norris

liked by y/n.norris, scuderiaferrari and 670,419 more.

charles_leclerc to y/n: i hope i get to write you notes until my hands ache and my pulse trembles, because even then, i will love you as i do now, or even more ❤️

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username1 UNTIL MY HANDS ACHE AND MY PULSE TREMBLES I WAS FOUND DEAD

username2 CHARLES LECLERC THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

y/n.norris tearing up as we speak, i love you so much 🤍

username3 he just set the bar to the height of the moon

username4 it's gonna be hard for boys to flirt after this

scuderiaferrari welcome to the ferrari fam y/n! ❤️

mclaren over my dead body 🤺

scuderiaferrari you already have a norris 😫

landonorris please don't hurt her

charles_leclerc i could never

___________________♡___________________

#charles leclerc #f1 #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram au

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tessab154 · 4 months ago

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“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

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tessab154 · 6 months ago

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Omg I love him and the sass!! 10/10 great

Can You Get Out?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N asks Charles to get out the room so she could change after watching a TikTok to see his reaction

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: probably most of my blurbs will be based on TikToks, I don’t know if I should continue writing fluff or start dabbling in angst

(His confused face when she asked him to leave)

Y/N and Charles were in the bathroom that connects to their bedroom, both of them were styling their hair.

“Hey muñeco, Can you get out real quick? I’m gonna change,” Y/N said and Charles left the bathroom for a few seconds and then popped his head back in.

“Why do I have to leave?” Charles asked.

“Because I want to change into something more presentable if we are going to have brunch with your family.” Y/N said slowly. “So Can you please get out.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Charles said, leaning against the wall.

“Muñeco, meta, i Don’t have time for this, just leave.” Y/N said.

“Mon ange, just change with me here, It’s nothing I haven’t seen.” Charles said and Y/N threw her face towel at him, he catches it before it hits his face. “You see, Mon ange? You’re wasting time fighting me while you could have already been changing your top while I just admire the view.”

“Muñeco…” Y/N starts whining, he was not making this easy.

“Ma Belle, that bed” Charles pointed to their bed “is unmade for a reason. Did you forget what happened 10 minutes ago?” Charles asked cheekily and Y/N started cackling.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Y/N said between laughs, covering her face in disbelief. “Muñeco, it was a prank, you don’t have to leave, but can you pass me my top that’s hanging on the closet?”

“Of course, Mon ange.” Charles did as he was asked, getting the top with its hanger and everything. He handed it to Y/N and kissed her. “Do I get a show?”

“Down, boy, we Don’t want to be late.” Y/N said before she changed her top. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful as always.” Charles said before he kissed her and they left the apartment.

The End

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 #racing #dating #cute

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tessab154 · 7 months ago

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Who has read My Life With the Walter boys? If you have can someone for the love of God tell me if there's a part 2 to the book

#cole walter #my life with the walter boys #books #jackie howard #alex walter #romance

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tessab154 · 8 months ago

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tessab154 · 11 months ago

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That's Too Bad

Pairing bsfd!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You stay at your best friends house after a night of partying and meet her hot dad the morning after.

Word Count: 6094

A/n: Hi!! The Eddie Taglist is officially open again for those who would like to be added. Just go through the link in my navigation to join a taglist. Once I have 40 people on it though it'll be closed again just to help me stay organised.

Eddie Masterlist

You wake up way earlier than your best friend Arwen, which was a rare occurrence considering you like to sleep as long as you can. Though it was common for your body to force you awake at seven in the morning after a night of drinking so it wasn’t much of a shock when you spotted the time on her alarm clock on your way to the bathroom. You’re pretty sure the only reason you weren’t able to fall back asleep was because you’ve only ever been at her house once before, most of the time she would go to your apartment that you shared with your mutual friend.

“Hey, Winnie?” You nudge her shoulder to help wake her enough to answer your question.

“What?” She groans in response, burrowing into her blanket to escape what little light there is in the room.

“Do you want me to make you my special hangover breakfast?” Her interest is peaked at that and she turns over peeking out from the blanket the slightest bit.

“Yes please.”

“You better start waking up now then or I’ll eat it all without you.” That’s a lie, you know you’ll probably make more than enough for the two of you. You were bad with portion control with no excuse for it. Arwen groans in response again but violently shoves the blanket from her face to start feeling okay enough to get up. You’re quick to make your way into the kitchen to start raiding her fridge for eggs after that.

Some pop bullshit playing way too loud wakes Eddie up in the morning. There’s a pounding in his head from being out with the guys from the garage the night before and he’s ready to ignore it and go back to bed, covering his head with a pillow to muffle it. But as another song starts the music gets turned up and he’s quick to get out of bed despite his headache to put a stop to it.

“For the love of God Arwen, turn this shit down!” He shoves his shirt over his head as he crosses the hall into the kitchen. The sound of his voice stops your swaying to the song and your head whips over just in time to watch his abdomen disappear beneath his shirt, your mouth dropping slightly at the sight.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here I swear!” The unfamiliar voice has his eyes shooting to the stranger in his kitchen who’s wearing one of his old shirts and nothing else evident of how when you reach to turn the radio down he gets a peak of your panties as it rides up. He forces his attention away then, positive that you have to be one of Arwen's friends and are definitely way too young for him to even think of looking at you like that.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Y/n.” You go back to smoothing peanut butter over Arwen's toast before you stop and point the knife at him. “Wait, who are you?” You’re stuck being confused because Winnie definitely said her dad wasn’t going to be home again and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t have any siblings.

“Dad?” Arwen stops at the entrance as she sees him. “I thought you weren’t going to be home till this afternoon.” Her voice is scratchy with sleep and she winces from the light in the kitchen but refuses to shield her eyes and let her dad even start to think she’s hungover.

“I came home late last night instead. Want to explain why there’s a half naked girl in my kitchen blasting music too early in the morning?” He crosses his arms and you admire how his shirt hugs his biceps before his words register in your head. Your face heats up as you glance down at your bare legs. You’re quick to snap out of any embarrassment you feel to save your friend who you can tell is lagging to find a reason that isn’t we were too drunk to go anywhere else.

“I got really drunk last night and Winnie offered me a safe place to stay so creeps wouldn’t try to take me home. Save me from any new embarrassing one night stands. I think I might go put some pants on now though if you’ll just excuse me.” You stop next to Arwen to speak directly to her. “There’s bananas sliced up for your toast, I didn’t have time to put it all together yet, and the eggs are done.”

“Thanks, Tigs.” You smile and squeeze her forearm before making your way upstairs to steal a pair of her pajama pants.

“You just gave her a place to stay huh?” Eddie asks as soon as Arwen’s attention is back on him.

“You heard her, that’s what happened.” She can’t look him in the eyes and instead moves to make herself a plate and finish setting up her toast. A sign that she’s not telling the truth.

“Alright, whatever story you wanna tell me kid.” While she gets her food and heads into the dining room to eat Eddie starts the process of making himself some coffee. He’s leaning against the counter waiting for the pot to fill up when you come back in to get your own food.

“How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty,” you shrug, “I’ll be twenty one this year though and I’ve been drinking for longer than I should’ve been thanks to my old man. So leave whatever lecture you may have for Arwen.” He can recognize the disdain for your father in your voice even though you keep it even. It’s the same way he used to talk about his own father growing up.

“Pretty girls like you shouldn’t lie you know? It’s an ugly habit.” Eddie finally speaks up after a beat of silence while he grabs a mug from the cabinet above his head. You immediately know that he must’ve asked Arwen about your story and she can’t lie to save her life.

“Sorry sir, it’ll probably happen again.” You leave the kitchen a piece of toast between your teeth leaving Eddie there to wonder what he was doing even semi flirting with a girl half his age but also if the flirtatious tone in your voice was in his imagination or not. Shaking his head to rid himself of any other thoughts about it he fills his cup and heads outside to have a smoke.

“Winnie!” You whisper to her in a hushed tone that means you’re about to jokingly yell at her for something as soon as you hear the front door shut.

“What?” She swallows before she speaks, hesitant to hear what sort of unhinged thing is about to come out of your mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me your dad was hot? I mean I should’ve guessed because where else would you get your looks but damn.”

“Shut up, oh my God!” She slaps your shoulder and shoves you a little when all you do is laugh. “I’m literally begging you, do not fuck my dad.” You’re the type of person who when they know what they want they go for it, it’s how the two of you became friends in the first place, so she knows what you might be thinking.

“Hey, I’m not gonna promise anything. If it happens it happens y'know.”

“Y/n!” Despite her reprimanding tone she laughs at your words.

“I can promise that I won’t force it or anything though. Won’t go for it the same way I do when we go out.”

“Okay fine, I’ll accept that.” She knows that if anything were to happen it wouldn’t ruin your friendship or the relationship she has with her dad. Because as much as that might be awkward or weird, you’re both consenting adults and honestly her dad wouldn’t be the worst man you’ve ever slept with. “Now eat your food so we can get back to your place and study for our Spanish test.”

“Alright we’re out of here dad!” Arwen yells through the house as the two of you put your shoes on. Your purse is slung over your shoulder, your dress from the night before shoved inside deciding the walk would be easier if you just wore what you slept in.

“To where?” He makes an appearance in the entryway just as you’re standing up from tying your heels up your ankle. “And how are you getting there since your car isn’t here?”

“Back to Y/n’s apartment, it’s just a like twenty five minute walk.” He notes how thin your heels are and then notices the pitter patter of the rain that started not too long ago.

“It’s raining.” He points out crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway.

“That’s alright, a little rain never killed anybody.” You shrug and meet his eyes, breath hitching as you do, realizing for the first time how pretty they are.

“I’ll drive you two there.”

“You really don’t have to Mr. Munson.” You speak while Arwen stays silent hearing the finality in his voice.

“God, don’t call me that makes me feel old. Just Eddie will do.” He looks up towards you while he ties his sneakers up. He stands and grabs his keys from the hook before holding the door open for the two of you to leave before locking the door behind him. “Whoever’s giving me directions gets shotgun.”

The two of you are looking at each other next to the car when he turns around seeming to have a silent conversation. Arwen sighs before caving and letting you sit up front leaving you to smile and open the passenger door. It’s not long before Eddie’s in the car and starting it up.

“You can put whatever on the radio if you want.” He nods towards it as he turns the key in the ignition inwardly preparing himself for some pop nonsense like what woke him up this morning. You’re quick to make yourself busy with going through stations when his hand goes to the back of your headrest to backup.

“Oh, I love this song!” You can’t help but say as you find a station playing Crazy Bitch and lean back in your seat nodding your head to the music. “You’re gonna make a left here.”

“This is a whole one eighty to that pop bullsit you woke me up with.” There’s a hint of teasing in his voice as he points out his observation and takes the left turn.

“Don’t be a music snob, The Pussycat Dolls are just as good as Buckcherry. Turn right into the apartment complex after the next light.”

“The Pussycat dolls?” He laughs at the absurdity of the name. “Sounds like the name of a stripclub.” You burst into laughter at that and Eddie finds himself relishing in the sound.

“You’re not wrong.” You speak through flirtatious giggles as he stops in front of the apartment next to yours.

“Alright bye dad! I’ll be home later.” Arwen rushes out of the car not wanting to listen to you try to flirt with her dad.

“What about your car?” Her door shuts before he can finish his sentence.

“Her cars here. A friend drove us over to your place since neither of us could drive.” You open your door unbuckling yourself as you do. “Alright bye Eddie!”

“Is Jess home?” Arwen asks you when you join her on the sidewalk.

“Nah, she’s out with her new guy.” He was the reason the two of you went to Arwen’s last night. Neither of you wanted to be kept up longer just because you could hear them through the thin walls. “So she won’t be around to distract us from studying.”

Throughout the last two months of the semester you spend most of the study dates and hang outs you normally have with Arwen at your place at her house, hoping to catch just a glimpse of Eddie. Normally you get a lot more than just a glimpse like him trying to make dinner and deciding to just call for a pizza instead. The next time you were around while he tried you made your way into the kitchen to shoo him away before he could start messing up, giving him the easy job of watching the pasta while it boiled while you got the chicken ready. Since then if you’re around for dinner time you take over the kitchen claiming it as your space while Arwen and Eddie help and keep you company.

Or when you and Arwen have movie nights in her living room and he shows up in the middle of a movie commenting on it. During one of Winnie’s picks, Fifty First Dates, he came in and complained that he thought he raised her to have better taste than that. Another time during one of your picks, Napoleon Dynamite, he commented on how you like weird things. Both times, and most other times, he ended up standing there and getting sucked into the movie until enough time passes that you and Arwen tell him to just sit down if he’s going to watch with you.

You’ve even hung out with just Eddie before. The first time it was an accident, you forgot Arwen had told you she was staying late at work and you showed up at the door to find just Eddie home. You had offered to just come back later but he ushered you in saying it was fine and that you wouldn’t be bothering him if you stayed. It was then that you discovered how funny he can be and how big of a nerd he is, the evidence being the beat up copy of The Fellowship of The Ring sitting on the table that he admitted to reading for the millionth time and how he talked about how he spent most of his time when he was younger playing Dungeons and Dragons. So you started getting to the Munson household earlier than you should be there in order to talk to him more.

You come knocking on the Munsons door, tears beading at the corners of your eyes and a crumpled up paper in your hand. You really should’ve called Arwen ahead of time but you weren’t thinking of it till you showed up at the door. You just know you need her right now.

“Y/n? What are you doing here sweetheart?” He had started calling you that not long after the realization came to him that you were going to be around all the time.

“Is Winnie here?” Your voice breaks and Eddie notices the glossiness of your eyes immediately.

“No, she’s at work. What’s wrong?”

“Fuck! Okay, sorry for bothering you.” You’re so stupid of course she’s at work she always works Saturday nights now that summer started.

“You’re not botherin’ me darlin’, you never are. What’s going on?” The gentleness of his voice almost causes you to break down so you’re quick to try to leave.

“I’ll just see her when she goes on break. Bye Eddie.” You turn and start to walk away but then Eddie’s grabbing onto your wrist and stopping you from going any further.

“Hey, what’s got you all worked up baby?” He doesn’t mean to let the pet name slip through his lips but he’s panicking over the state you’re in. You don’t even notice it at first, won’t notice it till later and you’re replaying the events of the day in your head and suddenly you're squealing into your pillow like a teenager.

“I, um.” Your fist clenches crinkling the piece of mail you opened not long ago even more and bringing Eddie’s attention to it.

“What’s this?” He gently unwraps your fingers from around it and takes it from you pausing before reading it in case you had any objections to it. As he looks at you the question of if it was alright in his eyes you nod to tell him to go ahead.

As his eyes start skimming it the tears you’ve been trying to hold back until you could see Arwen come rushing forward. They fall in rapid succession as you watch his lips mouth the words on the invitation in his hand. You’re invited to join Ben and Jennifer on their most special of days. June twenty second two thousand seven.

“Sweetheart, is this what’s got you so upset?” You can only nod afraid of a whine escaping your lips if you let them open even slightly. It comes out when he brings you into a hug though and even though the last thing you wanna do is sob into Winnie’s hot dads - who’s become so much more than that to you these past few months - chest but you can’t help it.

Eddie isn’t sure what to do, he’s never been good at seeing pretty girls cry. It was awful trying to calm down Arwen when she was growing up because it pained him so much to see it. He wanted to burn the world down each time she would come home crying or he would come into a room to find her crying. Seeing you cry though, somehow he feels even stronger about it.

He knows it’s wrong but since that first meeting he’s started to really like you, like really like you. And he really shouldn’t feel this way about his daughter's best friend but he couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful and witty and funny and such a dork that it pains him sometimes. You were a better person than most of the women he’s tried to date in the past eighteen years. And you seemed to always be smiling or laughing so seeing you break down for the first time since knowing you is rough.

“Come on pretty girl, let’s get you inside with a warm drink.” He’s found it to be one of your comfort things even when it’s as hot as it is today.

He sits you down at the table and it’s quiet save for your sniffles as he starts boiling water. You stare down at the wedding invite in front of you on the table with disdain. You hate yourself for being this broken up about it. You feel stupid about it. You’re not even sure if you’re crying more over that or the invite itself anymore.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Eddie places the mug in front of you and you shrug, wrapping your hands around it.

“I don’t even know where I’d start.”

“You could start with who Ben and Jennifer are?” He offers as a start and you let out an angry tearful chuckle.

“My stupid fucking ex and the woman he cheated on me with.”

“And they invited you to the wedding?” Eddie's eyes are wide confused as to why they’d invite you then. Who would want to be that cruel to someone who lights up life the way you do?

“I’m sure it wasn’t his choice. I’m pretty sure she still thinks I’m his little cousin or niece or whatever lie he told her.”

“But he couldn’t have been that much older than you. How would she believe either of those lies?”

“Well,” you stretch the word out as you say it, “he was twenty eight when we were together.”

“How old were you?”

“Eighteen.” Eddie chokes on his own spit at your words. Sure a ten year age gap isn’t that bad all things considered but you were barely legal.

“How did the two of you even meet?”

“He worked with my dad, met him while taking lunch to his office after he left it at home. He was sweet and I’ve always sort of had a thing for more mature men so we started dating until I caught him cheating on me with her. He told me I couldn’t blame him because I was too young and wouldn’t understand and then he dumped me. Left me stranded a town over when he did and Arwen had to come pick me up.”

“How long were you together?”

“A year. I was nineteen when he ended it and really I should’ve listened to Winnie when she told me it wasn’t healthy after she met him so I could break up with him first.” You still feel like an idiot for not seeing the signs earlier like when he stopped bringing you around his friends and when you went out it would be so far from any of the regular places.

“He sounds like a fucking dick and you deserve better than that.”

“Eh, I should’ve known better than to fall for his charms in the first place.” You shrug again to try to seem nonchalant about it.

“Bullshit, you were a child he shouldn’t have been trying anything with you in the first place.”

“I was eighteen!” You can’t help but defend yourself when he calls you a child, you were old enough to make your own decisions, though you never know if that’s even true because you started making your own choices and having to take care of yourself long before then. And yet him being this upset for you makes you feel better and you can’t help but wish he was around earlier to tell you how it is.

“Were you still in high school?” You’re silent knowing that you were just about finished with it when you had your first date with him. “Then you were still a kid.”

“Am I still a kid now, Eddie?” Your voice is breathless as you lean closer to him, eyes darting down to his lips before going back up to meet his own.

The way that he always seems to care so much about you makes you feel some type of way that you can’t find the words to describe. Being around him makes you feel all warm inside and the pet names he calls you never hesitate to make your heart speed up in your chest.

“Sweetheart, I’m an old man, you're all kids to me.” And yet the two of you know that isn’t true. If it was, he wouldn't treat you like an equal or constantly tell Arwen she’s an adult who can make her own decisions when she thinks he’ll be mad at her for something. As much as he views you as younger than him and possibly less mature, not that he’s super mature in the first place, he doesn’t see you as a kid. It’s especially evident in how his eyes also flick down to your lips as you get closer to him.

“Hmm that’s too bad then.” His hand cups your cheek as your lips meet. It’s probably the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had and you think you could live in this moment forever feeling his lips move against your chapped ones. The butterflies swarming in your stomach as you pull back and meet his eyes has yours widening. You pull back completely as a realization hits you.

“I, uh, I should go. I should go find Arwen and um, talk to her about all of this.” You hold up the invite hastily trying to get your things together to leave. You can’t even look at Eddie and it’s like a knife is being shoved and twisted into his chest. “Thank you Eddie, for all of this.” You motion around at the barely drunk beverage and the tear stains on his shirt before basically running out of the house.

Eddie wants to bang his head against the wall when he hears the door slam shut. Instead he lets it fall onto the table as he groans. He’s never felt like he messed up so bad in his life than when he saw the look in your eyes that wasn’t exactly regret but looked enough like it to make him hate himself for letting it happen. Especially with his daughter's best friend.

“What’s going on, why have you been avoiding coming over?” Arwen finally confronts you in the coffee shop you’ve been meeting at recently about how you’ve been dodging going to her place and going back to having things at your apartment for the past couple of weeks. “Did you and my dad… you know?”

“No! God Winnie it’s so much worse than that.” You hide your face in your hands thinking about admitting the reason to her. It’s not really that you were ashamed of it, just that you can’t believe it’s an actual thing you’re dealing with.

“What is it?” You shake your head still hidden in your hands, legs bouncing up and down anxious for how she might react if you told her. “Tigs, you know you can tell me anything.” It’s the softness to her voice that breaks you, the way that it lets you know that even if you told her it wouldn’t ruin anything between the two of you.

“We kissed!”

“Ew. Wait, how is that worse?”

“Because that’s all we did! It was just a small kiss and it made me feel all fluttery and shit.”

“Oh. Oh!” Her eyes go wide as she takes in your words. “You like him!”

“Shh don’t say it out loud!” You rush to cover her mouth with your hand so no one else will hear her.

“Oh gross! You totally have a crush on my dad.” You groan and let your head fall onto the table wanting to die.

“Can we not talk about this, it’s embarrassing.” She’s quiet for a minute drinking some of her tea before speaking.

“He’s asked about you y'know.” That has you picking your head up and looking at her.

“What?”

“Yeah, little things like how you are.” Really it’s how he’s been asking that finally gave her the push to ask you about it and how she knew something had to have happened between the two of you.

“Oh.” It’s all you can seem to get yourself to say not sure where to go from here. Asking how you are doesn’t mean anything special especially with how you left the last time you saw him and after you cried to him. It’s silent between the two of you again and Arwen makes a face at the idea of saying her next words out loud.

“I uh, I think…that he maybe might like you too.” It takes her longer than she thought it would to get out, pausing between words unsure how to word it. Never in her life had Arwen thought that her dad and best friend would be so into each other. “And I think that maybe he has for a while now possibly.” She adds on slowly again when all you do is stare wide eyed at her.

You can’t even wrap your head around what she’s saying. It sounds absolutely crazy but also seems to make sense when you think about how you weren’t the only one initiating the kiss and how domestic it feels when it’s just the two of you around each other. Like when you play cards at the table together while you wait for Winnie to get home or when you’re playfully teasing each other over music or movie tastes.

“You think so?”

“As much as it pains me to say it, Tigs, I know it.” It’s then that you burst into a relieved and astounded type of laughter.

“This is such a weird situation we’ve found ourselves in Winnie.” She laughs with you then.

“Don’t I know it, Tigs.”

“I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“Oh trust me, this is super fucking weird and if anything does happen with the two of you, which I’m assuming is going to happen, I’ll be super uncomfortable seeing it for a while. But it’s not like I can do anything now to prevent it from happening. And I mean it’s way less weird than it would be if we started being friends when we were younger.” She’s not even going to mention how her dad would be the biggest upgrade of your life compared to the last few guys you’ve semi dated or how it would be nice to see him in a stable relationship for once in her life. Or even how she knows that the two of you have grown so much closer than she could even know with how much you end up at her place without her there.

“If you don’t want us to start anything because it’ll cross a boundary or something, say the word and I’ll make sure nothing ever happens.” The last thing you ever want to do is ruin the friendship you have with her. You knew from the minute she walked into the first class the two of you would share in your college careers with that damn Winnie The Pooh backpack on that she would be your best friend.

“No, like I said it’ll be weird but I’ll get over it eventually. Now c'mon we don’t have much time if we’re gonna stop to get snacks before the movie.”

Later you’re both falling into her house laughing over a shared joke about being locked out when it took Arwen longer than usual to unlock the door. A joke that originated when you called her once after getting home from a long shift panicked and thinking you were locked out because your key wasn’t working and Jess wasn’t home just for the two of you to come to the realization that you were using the wrong key when she got there to help you get in.

“What do you have for food?” You lead the way into the kitchen still slightly laughing as you speak.

“We haven’t gone food shopping since the last time you were here berating us for ingredients. Dad and I have been back to living off of sandwiches, takeout, and ramen since you left us for dead.” She jumps up to sit on the kitchen counter as she exaggerates her words.

“You’re such a drama queen oh my god! How about baked rigatoni?” You spot the box of noodles in the cupboard with pasta sauce behind it.

“Fuck yes!” She doesn’t hesitate before answering.

“Do you guys have beef pulled by any chance? Because if not you’re just getting the pasta part.”

“You know what, we might. I think my dad was gonna make burgers tonight so he probably-” she moves to the fridge as she speaks, her voice trailing off at the end as she looks through it. “Aha! Here we go, some ground beef for the cook.”

“If Eddie’s planning on making burgers, should I even make anything?”

“Yes Y/n, I’m telling you make the pasta. My dad won’t be upset about you using the meat, he’d probably end up overcooking the burgers anyway.”

“Okay. Do me a favor and turn on some music then?” She nods leaving the package on the counter and making her way to the radio that sits on a shelf above one of the counters while you get the pots and pans out.

Eddie barely even notices Arwen's car in the driveway when he gets home tired from being stuck at the garage since early that morning. He hadn’t even bothered with changing before leaving tonight still in his coveralls and grease stained tank. He wants a shower and then to collapse onto the couch and watch as much as he can of Lord of The Rings before inevitably falling asleep. He just hopes Arwen won’t mind that he doesn’t have it in him to make anything tonight like he promised.

As he passes through the threshold his senses are engulfed with the smell of food cooking, music blasting throughout the house and the sound of the two girls in the kitchen singing and laughing to it. It doesn’t even register in his brain that you’re probably over as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“What’re you making Arw-” Eddie freezes when he gets in the doorway taking in the scene playing out.

You and Arwen are dancing around the kitchen singing along to Arwen’s Pussycat Dolls CD taking turns stirring the meat sauce mixture and the boiling noodles when Eddie shows up in the doorway. Neither of you notice him at first so he silently watches on for a minute more chuckling to himself before he tries to get the two of your attention again.

“What’s going on here?” His voice cutting through Bite The Dust makes you jump before turning to look at him.

“Dinner.” Arwen answers, turning the stove off and taking the pasta over to the sink to get drained.

“Hi Eddie.” You wave suddenly feeling like you’re back in middle school being too shy to talk to your crush. You blame how good he looks leaning against the doorframe, his mechanic coveralls tied at his waist and hair pulled up in a bun at the back of his neck.

“Hey Sweetheart.” He beams glad to see you again and Arwen sighs rolling her eyes at the two of you.

“Alright I’ll give you two some privacy I guess. But I’m just going upstairs and I’ll be right back so no funny business.” You want to kiss her in thanks but also want to beg her to stay because what if she was wrong after all. She’s out of the room before either part of you can win.

“How have you been?” He asks moving to take over where Arwen left off.

“Good and you?”

“Alright.” He shrugs glancing over at you as you take the drained pasta from him and dump it into the sauce to mix it together. “We’ve missed you being around.”

“Well I’ve missed being around. Hand me that dish?” You point towards the counter and Eddie’s quick to grab it for you, your eyes catching while you’re handed it. “I’m sorry I ran out of here the way I did last time after the um-”

“The kiss?” He raises a brow amused at how you can’t seem to say it. Times like these remind him of how young you actually are despite how mature you like to make yourself seem.

“Yeah.” You don’t look at him as you finish layering the pasta and wrapping the dish in tinfoil. But your voice is soft and full of the emotions you wish you were better at communicating.

“It’s fine, I get it.” You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you opened the oven. “I wouldn’t want to be caught dead kissing an old man like me anyway.” He’s joking and you hate that such a bad joke has you laughing.

“You’re not even that old.” You roll your eyes at him and try to move around him to start the dishes but he traps you between his arms against the counter before you can get past him.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got one foot in the grave already.” Your foreheads are oh so close to touching, noses just a breath apart and you’re memorized by his puppy dog eyes.

“Hmm, that’s too bad then.” You repeat the words you used the last time you saw him. “I was kinda hoping this old man would take me on a date sometime.”

“Old? Who said anything about being old? You wound me baby.” He smiles as he speaks and his hands move to hold your face before connecting his lips with yours. You smile into the kiss loving how your lips slot together like perfect puzzle pieces, arms moving to wrap around his neck.

“Fucking hell! Gross guys! I said no funny business.” When you look over at Arwen in the doorway her hand is thrown over her eyes in the same way a parent would to their kid when they aren’t supposed to see something on tv and you can’t help but burst into laughter, head ducking into Eddie’s chest unintentionally. Eddie flushes red a little bit with shame at his daughter walking in on him and her best friend but that feeling’s soon replaced with something else as he feels your hand on his chest lightly pushing him away but still staying close enough that he can feel your body heat.

“Okay Winnie we’re done you can look now.”

“Finally, let’s watch a movie or something while we wait for the food to be done.” She grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room but not before you send a wink over your shoulder to Eddie.

Eddie Taglist (23/40): @sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @fangirling-4-ever @gaysludge @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @midnightsgetawaycar @goldylions @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

#eddie munson x reader #older eddie munson #hot dad alert

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tessab154 · 1 year ago

Text

Omfg this was AMAZING

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Part 2 | Part 3

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now. He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

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tessab154 · 1 year ago

Text

So fucking Precious!!!!!!!

Smothering kisses.

Eddie Munson x Plus size!FM!Reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking,

Summary: Eddie saved you from a creep, and you were too drunk to even realise what you were doing. He tried to get you into his van, but to no use, you couldn't keep your hands off of him, and it just ended up with you admiring him, kissing him and straight up just making him blush and giggle like a school girl

Requested by @tessab154 based off of this post

"I said no, please leave me alone" you huffed, as the guy who has been harrassing you for the past hour keeps touching you, when you clearly stated you didn't want him to.

You were out with your friends, celebrating after you nailed the test you had just the day before. You were all happy that it was now over, now that you've been getting closer and closer to the end of the school year.

"Come on, don't be a prude" the guy whined into your ear, way to close for your own comfort, and the other girls tried to get him to back off too, but it was no use.

"A girl like you shouldn't be a prude like this, come on" he urged you, and this was making you even more uncomfortable. Yeah, you were maybe bigger than most girls, which people thought meant you didn't get much, and would be jumping at any given dick you could, but you were far from that sort of girl anyway.

Little did you know that Eddie was at the other side of the bar, watching out for you as he sipped on his soda, making sure not to drink since he wanted to make sure you got home safe. And he heard the comment the creep just sent your way, making him grip his glass so hard his knuckles whitened.

You had been dating for a while now, secretly that is, since neither your friends, or Eddie's was a big fan of either side of your friend group. You were in complete different friend groups, and they clashed with eachother, making it unusual for you to even hook up or be a part of eachothers life. But you and Eddie had been friends way long before you ended up in the groups you did and all your friends knew about it.

You wanted to kiss him, hug him, and every single thing that came naturally from being a girlfriend out in the open, but you couldn't, and you both knew it would raise hell if it came out you were together, atleast that's what you thought. Just a few more weeks, and you could be free to do whatever you wanted to, because you wouldn't be in school by then. You would be on your way to start your life together, which had been your plan all along since you were kids to get away from Hawkins together and start a new life. Now that reality was closer than ever, and you could barely hold it together.

But it was a pain, to say the least. You wanted to wrap your arms around him in school, cuddling up to him when you could, even just sit at his table instead of yours during lunch, or he at yours.

You stole glances of eachother every now and then, and you met up in the woods behind school from time to time, meeting up in the utility closet a few times here and there, and you were secretly sneaking off to his van every now and then to be alone.

Your friends didn't really appreciate that you were hanging out with the town freak. But they couldn't really stop you either.

"She said to leave her alone"

His voice made you jump slightly, loosing balance for just a second before you turned around with the brightest of smile when you noticed who it was, leaping into his arms as you almost managed to make both of you fall. The alcohol in your body making you forget that this was not something you could do.

This made Eddie chuckle slightly, wrapping one hand around your waist to keep you both steady, glaring at the guy who didn't take no for an answer as he glared back at Eddie.

"And what you gonna do about it, punk?" he barked at Eddie, and you noticed how every muscle in his body tensed by the comment, before he let go of you, handing you over to your friends as he walked closer to the guy.

Everyone seemed to underestimate how strong Eddie was. He surprised you on the regular by how strong he actually was, considering how skinny he looked, that boy for sure had some muscles that could manhandle you given the opportunity to do so.

Just thinking about the last time he manhandled you so hard, he left bruises on your hips, made you stiffle back a moan as you watched how he stood up to protect you.

"You better watch it, she said no, now leave"

Everyone around you, including you watched with awe, or curiousity mostly, what was going on in front of them. Eddie, the skinny guy he was, standing up to a gym bro, a head taller than him, and his physique twice as big.

"Leave"

Eddie said sternly, keeping his eyes on this guy that didn't seem to wanna budge at all.

You didn't even have time to register what was happening before Eddie had this guy pinned to the floor, a firm grip on his neck as he was as close as possible to this other guys face, his curls hanging off his shoulders, almost falling into the guys face as he growled at him.

"Leave"

He said more clearly now, before letting go completely of the guy with a push, as he rose to his feet again, watching as the guy tried his best to get away, almost like a dog with it's tail between his legs as Eddie came back to you, looking you over as he cupped your cheek.

"You okay?"

His brown beautiful eyes were making it hard for you to speak when you saw how filled with worry and love they were for you. You just nodded as he gave you a soft smile, leaning into your ear so only you could hear what he had to say.

"I love you"

Fuck. You didn't even register what you were doing before your lips crashed against his, pulling him into you eagerly by his hair, you both moaning into the kiss before you pulled away, forehead resting against eachother.

"Uhm, excuse me, but what the fuck?"

One of your friends said, chuckling slightly as she spoke, not believing what she was seeing right in front of her, breaking you from eachothers hold as you looked at her with your signature "whoops"-eyes.

"When? Where? How?" she blurted out, noticing the heat radiating off of you both, knowing you well enough that you would not have done that if you weren't serious about a guy.

"For how long?" another one of your friends said as you pulled Eddie closer to you when he tried to leave.

"No, stay" you said, wrapping an arm around his so he had no choice but to stay.

"You sure?" Eddie spoke softly, making you nod at him in response.

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life"

Your friends watched you, intrigued by whatever had been going on between you both.

"So this is the guy, huh?"

"Yeah, this is him" you said proudly, knowing exactly what they meant.

Because one thing was for certain. You couldn't keep your mouth shut about Eddie even if you wanted to. You were head over heals in love with him, and you have been talking about him to your friends for months now, without mentioning his name, that was the only part you kept to yourself. All you said to them when they asked you about him or his name, was that they would know about him one day. Guess this was today.

"You all know about me?" Eddie said in surprise, making you giggle as your friends nodded in unison, making Eddie look as pale as day when he realised he haven't been a secret as he thought he had.

"You've talked about me?" he said with awe, his eyes searching yours as you gave him the warmest of smiles, pulling him into a quick kiss.

"She wouldn't give us your name, that's all, but we know"

Holy shit. I thought she was embarrassed to be with me, but all this time, she has been talking about me? To her friends?

Eddie couldn't believe it, he had thought this entire time that you were embarrassed of him, but you didn't talk shit when you said that you wanted to tell your friends about it. He couldn't control his smile as he looked at you again, seeing how you were eyeing him from head to toe.

"Join us?" one of your friends said, taking both of you by surprise, but Eddie gladly joined you as you scooted into a booth nearby as he followed along, sitting beside you as your friends sat opposite you, taking your hand in his, rubbing soft circles to the skin as he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

You didn't think that your friends would approve of your relationship, but they did. They saw how happy you were around Eddie, and they told him even how happy you have been since you guys started dating, because one thing was for sure, they noticed.

Eddie told them how you ended up dating in the first place, and they were actually nice to him. He treated you all to a few drinks and shots. You were having such a good time, dancing with your friends, trying to get Eddie to dance with you, but he said he would rather just watch you, and he did.

He watched how you swayed your body together with your friends, and his heart was bursting with how much he loved you. He couldn't believe that he was now allowed to touch you in public. To kiss you. To do everything he had ever wanted to do with you after you started dating.

"See you later babe!" your friend said before you parted ways with your group, Eddie holding onto you so wouldn't stumble and fall as drunk as you were at the end of the night, trying to get you into his van so he could take you home safely.

"Please just get into the van babe, you're drunk" Eddie chuckles as he holds onto your hand, steading you as you struggle to keep your balance.

You look at him and giggle, wrapping your arms around him in such a haste you almost manage to make you both fall to the ground, but Eddie is quick to steady you both before you manage to fall.

"You so pretty" you say a bit slurred, making Eddie shake his head, slightly laughing at you as you brush his bangs away from his face slightly when he pushes you against the van to keep you both steady.

"Thank you princess, but I really want to get you home now"

"Oh my, a hunk like you taking me home?" you giggle, licking your lips hungrily as your head falls down to his shoulder, making you inhale the scent of his hair as you fall at ease in his arms. Just like puddy for a second.

"You're my girlfriend, we live across from eachother, remember?"

This makes you shoot your head up in surprise, grinning from ear to ear.

"NO WAY" you say dramatically, making Eddie giggle, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you with admiration. The love he has for you almost bursting out of his heart by the look of you. You were so beautiful to him, and the fact that you were his was hard for him to even realise at times. The fact that he now could publicly touch you and kiss you were almost too much for him to handle.

"Yes way" he said before he placed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against your lips before he pulled away, a soft moan leaving his throat, making your entire body tense up with hunger for this delicious man in front of you.

"Fuck" you moaned against his lips, pulling him into you, kissing him hungrily.

Hearing how he made you feel from moaning slightly, made him chuckle and smile against your lips.

"Hungry are we?" he smiled, pulling away from you, making you whimper for more of him when he did.

"Yesss, please, just kiss me" you whimpered as he pulled away even more from you, holding you at arms length as he did so.

"As much as I love kissing you and all that babe, I don't wanna take advantage of you" he said softly, brushing some hair away from your face, you leaning into his touch as you kissed the palm of his hand, letting out a soft sigh as you looked into his brown eyes.

"You're so beautiful" you slurred, admiring his face for a while before he shook his head, smiling, looking down at the ground as he did.

"You're gonna make me blush"

"But you are! You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen"

He locked eyes with you, cupping your cheek as you smiled cheekily at him, needing, and wanting him closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, kissing his cheek.

"So awfully beautiful" you said before landing another kiss to his jawline, down his neck and back up again.

"You taste so good too" you said as you licked his cheek, over his lips, placing a soft kiss to them, before kissing your way to the other cheek, down his jawline and neck before tracing kisses up again, ending up smothering his face between your hands, drowning his face in kisses.

"So. Fucking. Beautiful" you said between kisses.

He couldn't control his laughter by now, trying to get away from you, but you were stronger than he had anticipated, and he couldn't get loose from your grip.

"Babe, please!" he giggled, trying to push himself away from you, but there was no use. And he didn't really mind it that much either. He loved the attention he got from you.

"I love you, boyfriend" you said after pecking his lips softly, playfully playing with the word boyfriend, making Eddie blush when you said it. You let go off his face just slightly, still cupping his cheek after admiring him for a bit. He leaned into your touch, giving your palm a soft kiss before he smiled at you.

"I love you too, princess, so fucking much, you have no idea"

"Take me home, please?"

"Your wish is my command" he grinned at you, opening the door for you to climb into his van, giving you a hand so you wouldn't fall or lose your balance climbing in and closing the door after you before he ran over to the drivers side to drive you home.

Taglist: @eddiemunsonfuxks, @jadeylovesmarvelxo, @anaisweird, @marsmunson86, @eddiethesexy, @readsalot73, @warmaidensrevenge, @sherrylyn628, @sammararaven, @sllooney, @salenorona23, @unefemmeiconique, @screaming-blue-bagel, @sheenastark22, @lil-quinnie, @erinsingalong, @emsgoodthinkin

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tessab154 · 1 year ago

Text

Short and sweet sometimes thats all a girl needs!

pretty when I cry

summary: he said you are pretty when you cry. daemon targaryen x reader notes: well, let's say, daemon didn't have anything with rhaenyra. you are her younger sister. daemon and you had some sort of history.

He found you curled up on the floor. You didn't even make to the bed. He heard your sobs in a hallway so he carefully got closer to you.

"What made you cry"? he said as if he didn't know already what made you cry a river in your chambers. You looked up. You somehow expected him to show up.

"Uncle... What a lovely surprise..." you said as you tried to wipe your tears and make yourself decent. Your eyes hurt, your head is spinning.

"Oh my little dragon... You are such a delicate wonder." he helped you to get up.

"You heard what he said. My father wishes for me to marry. He wants to sell me off just so he can please Otto Hightower. He already made him marry Rhaenyra. I'm the only one that remains"

"As much as I dislike hand of the King, I don't think marriage is something you should cry for."

He nonchalantly moved your hair form face and rested his same hand on your cheek.

"Think of it as a way out." he continued.

He knows how to make you angry.His hand slowly left your cheek, when moved his head closer to your exposed neck.

"I thought about everything, my sweet niece. I'd like to help you." his mouth touched your warm skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over.

You started breathing quicker. You didn't like how tears burn you face. You hated the state you're in. Hair is messy, face is probably red and swollen. But his kiss made it all better.

"What if I told you I don't need any help?" you whispered.

Now he stops kissing your neck. He moved back.

"You are pretty when you cry. It makes you glow. But I hate seeing you upset." he moved to you, trying to hold your hands together. "It makes me feel something" you tried to move your hands. "What do you feel? You are just playing your stupid game. Trying to tease my father with me? I'm just a play thing?"

He stopped.

"I'm offering my help. Marry me. Let's leave this castle and go."

"It's easy for you." Everything is from duty. It's never from heart. Just a burden to everyone.

Always by force, not free will.

"Everything you say is just a story. You've been feeding me with them since I was born. Rhaenyra is gone. She's married to Laenor. I'm here. A good replacement, that's all I am."

"You are more than that. Rhaenyra and I never had anything. It was just a rumours. Why is it hard for you to believe that I want you?"

"I don't want you to marry some Lord! For you just to bear children and be a good wife! To never feel love. To feel desired. I want you to be my wife. I love you. I'll give you everything. Go with me..." you started to cry again.

"I want you to be my forever. To fly whenever we want. To be wed in our tradition." he softened.

"Please my little dragon, don't cry anymore. I won't give you to anyone. You are safe with me..."

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tessab154 · 1 year ago

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😍I hope there's a part 2!!

daemon targaryen x lifelong friend! reader

no one told me to shut up so i am blaming this on you all.

⚠️: canon-divergence, reader is a childhood friend of the prince, reader is considered high-class but no detail as to which house they belong to, hints to reader’s mother being absent/deceased, canon typical treatment of women (fem! presenting reader), mentions of unwanted marriage (reader is going to get out of it, no matter the cost), talks of virginity, mentions of explicit sexual contact (some of this takes place in a brothel but probs not what you think), sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, mutual pining, daemon is a warning by himself, reader is a menace and determined not to be wed to anyone that isn’t the rogue prince and uhhhh i think that’s it.

it is times like these, times when you bite your tongue and smile prettily like your mother taught you to, times when you swallow back what you truly wish to say, that make you miss being a child.

you miss running through the gardens, playing with the horses, sneaking away from your father— you miss the warped sense of freedom that childhood had brought.

‘but you are a woman now, you are no longer a child’, a voice echos in your mind, more like a memory than anything, ‘and women do what they must for their families.’

you feel nothing but bitter when you smile at the Lord your father is planning to wed you to, nothing but bitterness and despair.

your father had thought that one day, the prince you grew up with, the Rogue Prince himself, would ask for your hand. secretly, you had hoped that he would as well— but he had not.

with age, you had become wiser and it was when you were on the cusp of your womanhood that you realized he would never ask for you.

the Rogue Prince would never ask for you, even though you had wished for it— dreamed of it.

it felt like your world would come crashing apart when your father had given up the idea of wedding you off to the prince and started searching for other men to take your hand.

your father had said you were only growing older and with that, your time unwed was shorter with each passing moon.

————

out of all of them, all of your suitors, you despised this one the most.

the Lord whose name is a loss to you— an older one who had lost his second lady wife nigh four moon cycles ago; the one that knows nothing of you, of what you like, of what you wish for the future.

all he knows is you are young, untouched and malleable— he knows he can bend you under his hands and shape you into a perfect lady wife, one in his image.

your father favors him, thinks that he will be more than able to provide for you.

but this man, he is wretched when he leans down, yellowed teeth burning a hole in your memory, rank breath making you swallow a gag, “you are not a real woman just yet, but i will make you one.”

you feel sick, like when your prince had insisted that you could eat one more slice of sweet bread when you were children.

you remember looking up at him, like you always had, a boy who was only a few summers your senior but had enough of a hold on you that you believed every little thing that spilt from his lips.

he had said that you could stomach it so you had swallowed down the last piece, despite the churn of your stomach.

he was wrong, and you had retched up that piece of sweet bread on his shoes almost immediately afterwards.

that is how you feel in the presence of this man, sickly— your stomach souring more with each passing moment.

hot bile rises in your chest— all you can imagine is shackles, heavy and painful.

you will not be the wife of a man who is only after you for your virtue.

————

“i will not wed him.”

your voice is quiet, quieter than you would wish for it to be.

your father halts on the steps of your home, shoulders squaring in a way you know means he will not listen to your worries, “you will do as i say, daughter.”

your voice comes louder this time, more courageous than you truly feel, “i will not be wed to a man like that, a man who is only interested in what is under my skirts, Lord Father.”

your father turns on the steps, a look in his eye you have not seen before, “enough,” with the tone of his voice, all you hear is the lock of your shackles clicking in place, “you will wed who i say.”

his voice is definite and that feeling of despair comes rushing back.

your heart pounds loudly in your ears, and even if you wish to object further— you do not.

you swallow the words of protest down, and rush to your chambers.

later, after the moon has just barely peaked in the sky, that despair— that very hopelessness morphs itself into something else.

this new feeling is white-hot and fucking suffocating, thrumming through your veins until you are sure you will implode.

you have no sadness, no acceptance for your future with that old pig.

all you have left is your anger and it feels biblical.

you devise a plan, one that is irrational and childish— but you do not care. you grab your cloak, fastening it tightly to your shoulders before pulling your hood up.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you toe closer to your window, nodding in content. you look unrecognizable enough with the hood shadowing your face.

you steady yourself, swinging your lower half out the window, preparing to climb down and make a break for it, while you still have your nerve.

————

sneaking away from your home is no small challenge, but somehow, you still manage to get away unscathed.

it takes little time for you to find yourself in front of a man of the City Watch, and you pull your hood tighter to mask your features, “where is your leader?”

the way his face pulls tells you all you need to know, but you push forward, asking again for confirmation, “the prince, Ser?”

he answers slowly, like he is unsure he should give the information out to you, but he relents, “the brothel.”

not long later, you weave your way through the streets of the King’s Landing, determined to stay out of trouble, stay out of the push of the people moving along. you manage to avoid any danger quite well, in fact, you find that you move fairly quickly when you are motivated by nothing but pure spite.

it does not take long for you to find the brothel. you gaze at the doors, and for a very brief moment, hesitation heavies your feet.

you should not be here, you know that well.

your eyes linger on a couple seated by the door, their hands groping blindly at the fronts of each other, their clothing in utter disarray. it is a lewd show, and you find yourself more unsure of your plan than ever.

however, you bring yourself to swallow your nerves, hands stopping their fiddling with a stray edge on your cloak. the sooner you go in, the sooner you come out.

you steel yourself, you will not leave here with your virtue in tact.

the people outside do not prepare you for what it will be like inside. outside, there were few— inside, there are many.

it is nothing but bare bodies, writhing against each other in the throes of passion. all you can hear are the sounds tearing from their lips, ones that seem more animal like with each passing moment.

you feel diseased, tainted with each step forward.

you shoulder your way through the crowd, dodging the wandering hands trying to grab places they should not be. you ignore the looks of beckoning from strangers that grip at your skirts in an attempt to see what you are hiding under them. you keep your head down in an attempt to seem unwelcoming to any advances, trying to make quick work of finding what you came for.

by mistake, you make eye contact with a man as he laps at the confection of one of the common whores, and you fight off the urge to hastily run away from this place.

you are growing impossibly more uncomfortable with each passing second, but the feeling of imaginary shackles tightening around your ankles spurs you onward.

finding the Rogue Prince might be a more difficult feat than you originally thought.

————

time is lost to you and with that, also is the way you entered. you cannot recall how much time you have spent wandering when you finally catch a glimpse of the telling white of his hair. you make your way to the room you saw him being led to, shoulders lifting in an attempt to keep your identity concealed.

the room is secluded in nature, but not hidden enough for you to not see him over the crowd before the door closes.

and when you peer inside, hesitant in your movements, he is surrounded— three women flanking his sides on the bed, one mouthing at his throat, the other two grabbing blindly at the front of his trousers, too caught up in each other’s mouths to really pay attention to where their hands are.

they are nothing but a blur of bodies, writhing together in a way that makes you wince.

you feel foolish for coming, your hand tugging nervously at the fabric of your cloak again— but you decide you will not turn back now.

you let go of your hold on the cloth, press the door open farther, and step into the candlelight.

the creak of the door does not pull them away from each other, and you feel irritation suffocating in your chest.

you clear your throat in an attempt to draw their attention, it echos off the stone walls, louder than you expect— but it does exactly what you want.

the woman closest to the door, the lone one, turns to look at you, eyes every bit sultry and proud to have a prince in her grasp, “ah.. looks like we have brought an audience, Your Grace.”

you inhale deeply, hands pulling at your cloak once again, despite your desire to seem sure of yourself, “afraid not, my lady. i do, however, need a moment alone with the prince.”

her eyes narrow, features turning sharp, “the prince is occupied, whore. you can see yourself out, or you can wait until we have finished,” she pauses, mouthing again at his throat before finishing, “but that might take all night.”

you feel it again, that biblical anger, the one that makes you feel able to call upon a plague. your tone carries in the room, less kind than the one you had used previously, “you misunderstand. i am not asking you to leave— i am telling you.”

it is enough to draw attention of the other parties in the room, including the prince himself, who says your name in a tone that sends heat prickling down your spine, “well then.. what ever do we have here?”

you raise your chin, a show of defiance, “i must speak with you, Your Grace,” your gaze moves to the woman, “without the presence of harlots.”

when your eyes meet lilac, all you see is amusement, “i am otherwise occupied, sweet one.”

his mouth parts in pleasure at the feeling of one of the women finally making contact with his straining cock, and your irritation returns at his dismissal of you.

when you speak again, your tone is enough to worry him, ringing through the room with an anger he has not heard in ages, “i did not come here to jest.”

when Daemon gazes at you again, he must see something he finds displeasing, every hint of mirth disappearing from his features, “out.”

the three women, the whores, they think him talking to you— but you know better, moving further into the room, no longer blocking the door.

the woman closest to you, the one you find wholly unlikable speaks next, “you heard his highness, get out.”

“not her, whore— the three of you. get out.”

the smug little grin that pulls at your mouth does not leave your features until after the door closes.

————

you give the prince a few moments to collect himself, but he speaks before you can, “now then, after you have taken all the fun of my night away— what is it you need so urgently?”

Daemon settles himself on the edge of the bed, peering up at your restless form from his perch, and all you see when you look at him is your dearest friend— the only man you would ever trust with the task you are about to ask of him.

you pull down your hood in response, licking at your lips in the way he recalls is a nervous tick you have had since you were small, “my father wishes to wed me to a man,” you pause your pacing, anger melding back into hopelessness, “and he is just fucking vile, Daemon. he only wants me for my maidenhood. he does not care for me.”

you take in a deep breath, shoulders quivering with the movement, and in that moment, you remind Daemon of your younger self.

you remind him of the bright eyed nuisance that followed him everywhere like a little shadow, back when things were far more simple— back when his every thought was of one day being your husband.

“do tell, my Lady— what does that have to do with me?”

you answer with no hesitation, hands pawing at the latch of your cloak that rests at your throat, “i want you to take it, Your Grace.”

your cloak hits the ground with a muffled noise of rumpling fabric, “he will not take me as his lady wife if i have laid with another,” you halt your words, making heavy eye contact with the prince, your hands making quick work of the lacing on the front of your bodice, and when your words return, it is quietly, with a tone that makes the Prince’s head swim with thoughts of how you would look spread open at his will, “make me a woman, Daemon.”

he stands, moving towards you, wearing an emotion you do not recognize and a slow heat lights in your veins.

you answer him quickly, moving to meet him in the middle of the room, hands abandoning the lacing on your chest to feel at the broadness of his shoulders.

when he does not stop you, your head tilts in an attempt to press your honeyed lips to his. he does not let you, head moving so your lips press at his cheek and your irritation returns, hands opting to knead at the muscle on his shoulders. your gaze turns every bit tempting when you look up at him, trying to seem cloying with the words you speak, “have me, Daemon— my virtue is yours.”

he captures your hands in his own, his grip tight when he wrenches them away from his frame to hold them above your head and you shudder a noise of pleasure, figuring that he would finally do as you wished.

you do not miss the noise that pulls from his mouth, echoing your need for him back to you in a husk, one that makes slick drip between your thighs.

then, before you have the chance to try anything else— he is pressing you away from him, a sharp “no,” ringing through the room. it reminds you of the way he would scold when you were smaller, when you would do something he did not like.

he did not want you and you pause, your lustful haze disappearing immediately, shame replacing it, slithering down to settle deep in the base of your spine, until you feel nothing but embarrassed at your actions, “no?”

you jerk, attempting to get away from him, from this feeling of rejection. he lets you hastily remove your hands from his grip, turning your head away from him.

when you look back up at him, lip quivering with an emotion he cannot place, he feels guilty for turning you away, but he stands steadfastly, echoing the refusal back at you.

Daemon watches desperate little tears line your bottom lashes in the way that reminds him of the tantrums you would throw when he could play with you no longer, “i will not sully you.”

you turn away again, whole body moving this time, feeling foolish at your measly attempt to seduce your oldest friend, the only man you have ever thought of, the only man you have ever truly wanted, “very well then, Your Grace,” something changes in your tone, something so cold it makes him stiffen, “i do wonder if some of the men in your City Watch would be interested in sullying me.”

there is a sharp intake of breath before he speaks again, voice carrying a reminisce of how he used to protect you when you needed it, “you will do no such thing— if any of them touch you, they will lose their hands.”

you turn, eyes lit with something that Daemon finds wholly attractive, and he cannot help the flicker of his gaze to the heave of your almost uncovered breasts, “you do not have the right to threaten that. if you will not take me, then i will find someone that will.”

you do not see the way his hand raises to grip at the chub on your cheeks until it is too late to dodge him, his hand pressing into the fat on your face until it is almost painful, “watch your tone with me, sweet one, i am not a man that will bend to your requests.”

you move your head in an attempt to get away from his grip, but find yourself unable to shake him off, and despite his remark about not bending to you, his lips are on yours before you can retort something back.

the scent of him— of leather, and dragon fire is so thick you swear you can taste it on his tongue.

it is so delicious, he is so delicious— and this, this feeling, the sharp bite of his teeth against your bottom lip is your salvation.

you find yourself pushing him back towards the bed before you truly realize, but the bed is where you fully intend to push up your skirts and mount him.

your voice is saccharine with desire, with need, “please, Your Grace— take me.”

you find yourself speaking between sloppy, inexperienced slots of your mouth desperately against his, “i want you to take it— i want you to have me.”

his back hits the bed first, your body following his dissent clumsily.

his hands move to your hips in an attempt to steady your weight against him, your own hands caging him between the softness of you, and the softness of the bed.

you wiggle against his iron grip until you are fully straddling him, wasting no time before you begin grinding your weepy cunt against the heat of his groin.

you press against him harder, desperate little jerks of your hips that feel good enough a noise that is nothing but depraved pulls from your throat.

he stops you steadily, with more force than necessary, his hands bruising against the doughy fat of your hips to prohibit the drag of your cunt against the seam of his pants.

his voice is clipped— dripping with barley there restraint, “i will take you, sweet one, when we are wed.”

you stare down at him, doe-eyed, debauched, and dripping with something so heady that it makes his cock jump against the smothering swelter of your cunt.

his eyes flutter, threatening to close, at the very feeling of finally having you after all these years and despite himself, Daemon shoves back the urge to push you face first into the bed and do as you ask, as you had plead for him to do.

instead of doing what he truly wishes, he brushes the fallen wisps of your hair from your eyes, tenderly, like a husband would.

he leans to press a kiss to your lips, saccharine and dripping with promise, and then his voice comes softly against the side of your mouth, something you have only ever heard in your dreams of him mingled in the tone, “i will come for you with the rise of the sun.”

you hope he means that.

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tessab154 · 1 year ago

Text

I just read this while thing on AO3 and I AM OBSESSED!!!

The Other Sister

001- The Blessed Princess

Daemon Targaryen x fem!oc

Warnings: Childbirth, mention of death

Word count: 4000+

masterlist

Note: To my old readers; as I mentioned before, Act I (the first 10 chapters) is currently being rewritten and polished due to grammar errors and content gaps. However, there will be no changes made to the rest of the chapters.

[The story is more advanced on AO3 and Wattpad]

Summary: Throughout history, House Targaryen has produced both great and bad men. But Shiera Targaryen was no man. In her day, there was not a woman so admired, so beloved, and so reviled in all of Westeros. She was made of light and darkness in equal parts. To some, she was a hero, to others, the blackest of villains. The tales of the love story between her and her uncle-husband, the Rogue Prince, echoed for centuries, from the depths of the Seven Kingdoms to the borders of Essos, their legend endured. No man was more loyal to his wife than Daemon Targaryen, from protecting her and their children, who would come to be known as the Fourteen Flames of Old Valyria, to crowning her the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. -The Tales of Queen Shiera Targaryen, rewritten by Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch.

King's Landing, 92AC

The birth of the blessed princess, an event that shall forever be etched in the annals of Westerosi history, unfolded with a fusion of sorrow and beauty, intertwining tragedy and magnificence in an unparalleled manner. It was a momentous occasion that left an everlasting imprint in the memories of all those who bore witness.

When the darkness descended, a profound stillness draped over the land. Whispers of anticipation swept through the kingdom, as though nature herself held her breath in expectation of a grand revelation. The heavens, once a shimmering abyss of serenity, surrendered their calm to an otherworldly display that seemed to summon the very stars from their celestial abodes. From the distant reaches, radiant stars, descended in graceful unison, tracing elegant arcs across the sky above. People from every corner of the realm were drawn by an unseen force, their mundane concerns momentarily forgotten. They paused in their endeavors, their eyes alight with wonder, fixated on the mesmerizing spectacle unfolding above. Whispers of long-lost prophecies, murmurs of a blessed soul's arrival, began to weave through the gathering throngs.

As the stars converged, their celestial convergence nearing the northern horizon, a resplendent constellation took shape, casting its radiant glow upon the kingdom's darkened corners. It was as if the heavens themselves held their breath to bear witness to the birth of a being touched by the divine. Such celestial omens, bearing echoes of prophecy and heralding the dawn of a new era, kindled an unwavering belief within the hearts of those fortunate enough to glimpse this event. In this convergence of tragedy and triumph, sorrow and splendor, the birth of the blessed princess unfurled a path etched in destiny's tapestry. The realm, forever touched by the enchantment woven upon that fateful night, would forever hold this cherished moment in their collective memory.

As the golden hues of dawn bathed the Kingdoms, the old king issued a decree for the resounding toll of the bell, following the ancient customs that heralded the commencement of his granddaughter's labor. Little Rhaenyra, a mere two winters in age, remained oblivious to the gravity of the situation, perplexed by the furrowed brows and concerned countenances that filled the air. Yet, within the depths of her innocent heart, a flicker of excitement ignited at the thought of welcoming a new sibling into her world, while seated in the grand hall, nestled beside her father and accompanied by her one and ten-year-old uncle, Daemon.

Lady Aemma Arryn, her visage etched with an unprecedented agony, bore the weight of excruciating pain like never before. Even during the arrival of Rhaenyra, the anguish had not seized her so fiercely. The maesters attributed this torment to the untimely union that followed closely on the heels of her recent miscarriage. With a pleading gaze, she implored her husband, to be patient and wait for another year, allowing her frail frame to recover fully. Alas, he remained blinded by his own desires, deaf to her pleas, and persisted in a course that seemed an unyielding repetition of past misfortunes.

Bound by the intricate web of duty, she found herself wedded to her cousin, a match founded by her grandmother when she was but a tender one-and-ten years of age. Viserys, a man already embracing the bloom of adulthood, soon ushered her into the sanctity of their marital bed, their union hastened by the onset of her first moon blood. Thus, the young lady scarcely emerged from the cocoon of childhood and was thrust headlong into the responsibilities of wedlock and the burdensome demands of the realm. "The childbed is our battlefield," her grandmother would often counsel, reminding her of the trials and tribulations that awaited within the field of childbirth. At the tender age of three and ten, she suffered the heart-wrenching anguish of her first miscarriage, a devastating blow that left her mourning and vulnerable. Two years later, however, she welcomed the birth of her first daughter, Rhaenyra—a moment of bliss that enveloped the court in a cloak of relief and happiness. Yet, even when she cradled the precious babe in her arms, an unspoken pang of shame nestled within her, for her role as a wife had yet to bear the fruit of an heir. And now, as she endured the harrowing ordeal of labor once more, the echoes of past sufferings reverberated through her mind. The lingering pain, physical and emotional, seemed an endless cycle of recurring trials as if fate reveled in casting her upon this unyielding stage, where the realm's very destiny intertwined with the tumultuous journeys of her womb.

As the soft moonlight bathed the chamber, time seemed to stretch into an endless abyss, with over twelve hours passed since her labor began. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, as the slow, drawn-out process tested her patience and resilience. The labor progressed at an unhurried pace as waves of pain surged and receded.

By her side, her grandmother, Alyssane sat on the edge of the bed, offering comfort and support. With a gentle touch, she placed a cool, damp cloth upon her forehead, providing a brief respite from the perspiration and discomfort.

Amidst the throes of labor, Aemma's mind wandered to the future, envisioning the arrival of her new child or perhaps even children, if her maester's words were to come to fruition. A surge of excitement stirred within her, fueled by the knowledge that a name already danced upon her lips—Baelon—for the firstborn son. On the other hand, Viserys had chosen Aegon, if they were ever to be blessed with a second son. Yet, as her thoughts turned to the possibility of a daughter, she found herself adrift in uncertainty. What name would grace the lips of a beloved daughter, if she ever be blessed with one? As the labor persisted, each contraction a testament to her endurance, Aemma's mind wandered back to the nameless daughter who might soon grace her arms. She whispered silent prayers to the Mother and the Maiden, beseeching their guidance and blessings. For deep within her soul, she yearned to bestow upon her daughter a name that would reflect the boundless love and tenderness that filled her heart, a name that would resonate with strength and a legacy yet to be written.

Her ruminations were abruptly interrupted by the urgent proclamations of the maesters, their grave voices signaling the time for her to start pushing. With a deep breath, she obeyed their call. Push after push, she exerted herself tirelessly as the hours stretched into an indistinguishable blur of effort. Yet, despite her attempts, little seemed to change as fatigue settled in, and doubts started to cloud her mind. The culmination of her struggles arrived in an upsurge of unbearable agony. Aemma's screams echoed throughout the castle, piercing the stillness of the night. Her voice carried her husband's name, a desperate plea for his presence and solace in her darkest hour. The reverberating cries reached the ears of all within the fortress, evoking a collective unease.

Suddenly, the tumultuous cries ceased, giving way to a silence that enveloped the birthing room. Prince Viserys, fueled by concern, pushed past the guards, his younger brother at his side, and entered the chamber. There, he beheld his lady wife, her form perched upon blood-stained sheets, cradling what appeared to be a fragile newborn in her arms. The babe was small, too small even for a newborn. The sight left all in a state of shock, rendering them speechless and immobile. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the painful cries of the mother. Minutes passed, though they felt like an eternity, and the relentless pain surged anew. Aemma clung tightly to her lifeless son, her heart unwilling to release the child she had carried within her. In this heart-wrenching moment, Viserys and Alyssane were forced to intervene, gently restraining her. With great sorrow, they tenderly removed the lifeless body.

"Think about your daughter," the good queen whispered into her granddaughter's ear. At that moment, Aemma realized that her grandmother's words held a deeper meaning, extending beyond her living child, Rhaenyra.

By the night's end, the sky showered the seven kingdoms with stars, and the realm welcomed the arrival of yet another princess.

Hours had passed since the tragic birth, leaving Daemon in a state of disconnection from the unfolding events. Denied entry to the birthing room by the guards and kept in the dark, all he knew was that his good sister had given birth to a son and a daughter. The son had entered the world too small and breathless. In contrast, the daughter survived.

While his brother and grandmother remained occupied with caring for Aemma, who had nearly sacrificed her own life in the pursuit of granting her husband a son, murmurs of blame floated through the air. Some pointed fingers at her perceived weakness, drawing parallels to her late mother, Princess Daella. Others laid the fault on the infant girl, alleging that she had deprived her brother of nourishment in the womb, resulting in his demise. Disgusted by the scapegoating, Daemon couldn't help but mutter his disdain under his breath. "Cunts," he whispered.

Driven by curiosity and a desire to see his newfound niece, the young prince stealthily ventured to the nursery. As he gently pushed open the door, careful to avoid any creaking hinges, a surprise awaited him. His grandsire, already present, sat beside the cradle where the infant lay, softly humming a Valyrian tune unfamiliar to his ears.

"Come," the old King said. "Tell me what you think."

"About what?" inquired the younger Targaryen.

"The stars, the falling stars that graced our skies last night," Jaehaerys responded.

"People said that it is a sign from the Seven."

"I asked for your thoughts, not the beliefs of others," Jaehaerys interjected.

Silence enveloped the chamber as Daemon pondered. The faith religion was never something he believed in, nor did the Targaryens. They were meant to venerate the gods of old Valyria. Yet, he had been there, witnessing it all. Amidst the falling stars, a cry had resonated. It was the cry of his newborn baby niece. "I don't know what happened out there, but I believe it was merely a coincidence," he lied, his voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty. Daemon knew deep down that he was deceiving himself, unable to find an explanation for the events.

"I had a dream last night," Jaehaerys disclosed, his tone carrying an air of solemnity, pausing briefly to inhale deeply. "I beheld a Targaryen woman seated upon the Iron Throne, adorned with the Conqueror's crown. In her right hand, she held the Blackfyre, while her left hand tenderly caressed her pregnant womb. Yet, it was the presence of fourteen blazing candles encircling her that seized my attention. Fourteen, the very number reminiscent of the ancient flames of Old Valyria. Do you still deem it a mere coincidence?"

The prince was taken aback by his grandsire's words. Confusion and disbelief danced across his young features, leaving him unsure of how to respond. His gaze then shifted towards the cradle, where his silver-haired niece slumbered peacefully, he felt an inexplicable sensation tugging at his heartstrings. It was as if an invisible thread had woven itself between their souls, a connection that transcended mere blood ties. At that moment, he realized that this newborn princess held a special place in his life as if she had been born for him, to bring forth a bond that would shape their destinies in ways he could not yet fathom. "What color are her eyes?" He inquired.

"One lilac and one green," his grandsire replied.

Daemon was taken aback once again, his mind swirling with a flood of memories and emotions. His mother, Alyssa, who had the same mismatched eyes, had been a fleeting presence in his life since she passed away when he was young. Yet, the stories his father shared about her always carried a sense of warmth and comfort, especially when he spoke of her unusual eyes.

As his eyes met those of his niece, his heart stirred with nostalgia. The sight of her now-opened mismatched eyes evoked memories of his own mother. It was as if a strand of her essence had been woven into the fabric of this new life. A profound connection, unfathomable yet undeniable, seemed to bridge the gap between past and present. In the quietude of the chamber, Daemon felt a bittersweet longing welling within him. He yearned to hold onto the fleeting moments when his mother's presence felt tangible, and in his niece, he found a semblance of that connection. "And her name?" He asked.

"She still doesn't have one yet," the king replied, his voice carrying a hint of concern. Daemon was not shocked, considering his brother's fervent desire for a son.

"You can name her," Jaehaerys suggested.

"What?" Daemon asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You name her. Your brother is distressed, and his wife is gravely ill. We cannot leave her nameless until her mother recovers, can we?"

"Shiera," Daemon uttered softly, the name forming on his lips.

Upon hearing the name, a flicker of recognition passed through Jaehaerys's eyes. Memories of his own daughter, Saera, resurfaced, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart. "Why this name?" He asked.

"When Mother was pregnant with Aegon, she had hoped for a girl. We had chosen the name Shiera together," Daemon explained.

"Then Shiera it shall be."

Years swiftly passed by since the birth of the little princess, Shiera, heralded as a blessed child by all who bore witness to the event on the day she was born. With Her eyes, one lilac and one green, and her silver hair, it became increasingly evident that she possessed a beauty that transcended mere words. It was a beauty that left onlookers spellbound, for it was not simply lovely or pretty like her sister. No, her beauty was of an ethereal quality, a mesmerizing allure that captured hearts and stirred the souls of all who gazed upon her. In her delicate features, she mirrored her mother's essence, her very soul intertwined with that of Aemma.

"Where is my little star?" he called out playfully, but there was no response from the seven-year-old princess. She continued playing with her dolls, seemingly ignoring her uncle's words. The older prince chuckled, knowing full well that she would be upset with him upon his return, just as she always was.

However, their playful moment was interrupted by a soft meowing sound. The girl's attention shifted as she turned to face her uncle. There he stood, holding out a tiny black kitten towards her. "Since my favorite princess doesn't want my present, I suppose I should give it to Rhaenyra instead," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The young girl's eyes widened with delight as she reached out to take the kitten, cradling it gently in her small hands. Daemon, watching her closely, couldn't help but smile at her sheer joy. He leaned in and asked, "Do you like it, sweetling?"

Shiera side-eyed him with a sassy glare, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and replied, "Maybe." Her playful response caused her uncle to chuckle. "And what shall you name him, little princess?" He asked.

"Dracarys," she declared with a beaming smile, holding the furry creature high in front of her face for all to see. The kitten let out a tiny mew, seemingly aware of the importance bestowed upon him by his young princess.

"You cannot name him like that, my sweet," Daemon gently explained, trying to reason with her.

"Says who?" She retorted a hint of stubbornness in her voice. Despite her usually sweet and gentle demeanor, he knew all too well how fierce she could become when angered. He vividly remembered the outburst she had when her maid accidentally broke her favorite necklace – the same necklace he had given her on her third nameday. The entire castle had trembled that day, shaken by the force of her rage. Daemon couldn't resist but let out a laugh before asking, "And what made you choose that name?"

His niece turned to him, "Because he's a dragon in disguise, Kepus," she replied with a grin. "And dragons breathe fire, just like our family."

Daemon's laughter grew louder at his niece's response. "You have a clever mind, my little dragon," he said. "Dracarys suits him perfectly then."

Daemon couldn't help but notice the trace of unease lingering in her expression, even as she played with her new kitten. It tugged at his heart, knowing her well enough to recognize when something was bothering her. Unable to ignore her evident discomfort, he decided to broach her gently. "You're still mad," he observed.

Shiera pouted, her lower lip trembling slightly. "You left me, again," she whined, her voice carrying a hint of sadness.

Daemon understood her frustration and loneliness all too well. He was the one constant presence in her life, the one who had always been there for her. But circumstances had conspired to pull them apart, leaving her feeling abandoned and left behind. His grandmother's departure for Dragonstone, taking her last remaining daughter with her, had created a void in their lives. His father, as the heir, had responsibilities that demanded his attention and his brother's newfound role on the council consumed his days, while his good sister recurring health issues kept her confined to her bed after another failed pregnancy. Even Rhaenyra, who had once been inseparable from her sister, had now found her own pursuits, spending most of her time in the dragonpit after managing to ride her dragon. Shiera felt the weight of their absence keenly, leaving her with a sense of abandonment. And then there was Daemon himself, who had been forcibly taken away from her by the demands of a marriage, leaving her feeling even more isolated and alone.

"And you are going to be a father," Shiera babbled innocently, her words catching Daemon off guard. His mind raced, trying to comprehend the implications of her statement. He had never bedded his bronze bitch, but he had indeed indulged in numerous adventures in the brothels of Flea Bottom. His thoughts then swirled in a whirlwind of confusion. How was it possible that no woman had shown up at the castle's door claiming to bear his silver-haired child? Did he truly have any offspring from his past escapades? Or was it simply a misunderstanding or a mischievous rumor twisted by idle tongues? At that moment, his mind flickered through the faces and memories of the women he had encountered, trying to recall any potential encounters that could have resulted in a child. The uncertainty weighed heavily upon him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of disorientation. "Wh- Who- from where did you hear that?" He stuttered, his voice betraying him.

"Rhaenyra," Shiera replied matter-of-factly. "She said you are married now, which means you are going to have babies and leave us."

Daemon's initial reaction was to burst into laughter, not knowing whether to attribute it to his niece's innocence or the relief that washed over him. The idea of being a father seemed improbable. However, his laughter ceased when he heard the faint sound of small sniffs coming from his niece. Feeling a pang of remorse, he knelt down, his eyes level with Shiera's, and gently wiped away her tears. "My sweet star," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "What Rhaenyra said about me being a father was not true," he gently clarified, wrapping his arms around his niece in a tight embrace, comforting her. "I'm married now, but that doesn't mean I will ever leave you. After all, you will always be my favorite girl." He reached up and gently tapped her nose with a playful smile. "What about I make it up to you with a ride? I'm sure Caraxes misses you," he suggested, knowing well that his niece had a deep affinity for his dragon.

The princess's eyes sparkled with delight upon hearing about the prospect of a dragon ride. Ever since she could remember, she had dreamed of soaring through the skies on the back of a dragon. But unfortunately, her egg had never hatched, leaving her yearning for the day when she would have a dragon of her own. However, her grandsire, Baelon, had promised her that when she is older and ready, he would help her claim a dragon for herself, just as he had done for Daemon. It was a promise that filled her heart with hope, knowing that one day she too would claim her right as a Targaryen.

"Come, let the maids help you change and give them the Kitten so he can eat and rest," Daemon suggested. However, Shiera was quick to correct him. "His name is Dracarys, Kepus, not kitten," she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest with a playful pout. Daemon couldn't help but chuckle at her mock angler. "Whatever my princess wants," he said, playfully ruffling her hair.

As they walked through the halls of the castle, his curiosity got the better of him. "Where is your sister? I didn't see her in the dragonpit while coming," Daemon questioned, wondering where Rhaenyra might be.

"In the sept, with the daughter of the Hightower cunt," Shiera exclaimed. Daemon's laughter echoed through the corridor, though he quickly tried to stifle it. "Hush now, little one. You cannot say that word anywhere," he explained, amused by her unfiltered honesty.

"What word, uncle? Cunt? I already spat it on the septa," she declared with a mischievous glint in her eyes, leaving Daemon taken aback, yet he couldn't help but chuckle at his sweet niece's boldness.

He gently patted her head and said, "Tell me, what did the septa do to you this time."

Shiera crossed her arms defiantly. "She kept talking about the faith and how I should start praying to the Maiden to save me as my sister does. We are Targaryens, Kepus. We have our own gods."

"And how did you come to learn about that?" Daemon asked.

A small smile danced on Shiera's lips as she replied, "Kekepa Jaehaerys. I've been visiting him every night after you left, and he tells me tales of our family, the dragons, and the gods we used to honor." (Grandfather)

Daemon's smile softened, "Ah, I see," he said, nodding approvingly. "Once we finish our ride, we should visit the King. I'm sure he will be delighted to see you." With a happy nod from his niece, the two continued their journey.

As they approached the Dragonpit, the massive structure loomed before them. Daemon held Shiera's hand tightly as they ventured inside. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, a prelude to the arrival of a dragon. Caraxes, known for his grumpy demeanor and distrust of most people, was not fond of visitors. However, to everyone's surprise, his attitude seems to change whenever he catches sight of the little princess.

The dragon's fierce expression softened, and his massive eyes fixed upon Shiera with a hint of warmth. "Kepus, look! Caraxes still likes me!" She exclaimed. Daemon watched as the beast slowly approached, his scales shimmering in the dim flames light of the Dragonpit. The dragon's enormous snout gently nudged the girl, and she giggled uncontrollably.

"Well, it seems my dragon has chosen you again as his favorite," Daemon remarked with a smile. Shiera reached out her small hand and stroked the dragon's rough scales, "He's the best dragon," she spoke. Caraxes emitted a low, rumbling purr in response as if he understood the princess's words. "Indeed, he is," Daemon replied, "Now let's start our ride."

Lifting his niece in his arms and carefully settling her in front of him, Daemon straddled Caraxes's back, securing Shiera in her place, and ensuring her safety. "Ready?" he asked. The young girl nodded eagerly.

"Hold on tight," he said, tightening his own grip on the briddles of the saddle. With a powerful beat of Caraxes' wings, they ascended into the sky, leaving King's Landing behind.

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