moonwalkingprincess

[moonwalkingprincess]

I just feel like fucking shit man. I think everyone hates me. I have no friends, I'm certain I will get fired for my job soon. I'm so tired all the time.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Cuddle and south park

Marshall Mathers x reader

The living room lights were dim, casting a warm glow on the walls as the late evening settled in. Rain tapped softly against the windows, and the only other sound came from the TV—South Park playing its latest ridiculous episode, filling the room with crude jokes and exaggerated voices.

You were tucked neatly into Marshall’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around you, your legs tangled with his on the couch. His hoodie smelled faintly like fresh laundry and cigarettes, and the beat of his heart was a steady rhythm under your ear.

He chuckled—actually laughed, the sound low and real—when Cartman yelled something completely out of pocket. You felt it rumble in his chest, and it made you grin.

"That kid's such a little psycho," you mumbled, smiling against him.

Marshall looked down at you, his eyes soft and amused. “That’s why he’s the best part,” he said, brushing your hair back gently, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. “He reminds me of me when I was ten. No filter.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You still don’t have a filter.”

He smirked. “Exactly.”

You both burst into laughter then, your bodies shaking gently against each other. There was no pressure, no chaos, no cameras or crowds or critics. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and irreverent humor.

At some point, the jokes faded into background noise. He shifted slightly so you were even closer, like he couldn’t get enough of the way you fit into him. His hand found yours and held it, thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

"You good?" he asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded against his chest. “I’m really good.”

He exhaled, like he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. “Yeah… me too.”

And just like that, it didn’t matter what the world outside looked like. Tonight, you had this little bubble of peace—and South Park—with Marshall Mathers, and that was enough.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Love the way you lie // Part 1

Marshall Mathers X reader

Summary: y/n is a cleaner who lives in a small town, works as a cleaner at a hotel. What are the odds that Eminems tour bus broke down and had to stay there? and they ended up being best friends? Her helping him through his drug addiction with being intimate with him.

Words: 1000+

Masterlist

Prolouge

Warnings: Drugs, Em relapsing.

NOT WRITTEN BY AI! YAY! I DELETED CHATGPT

It’s the beginning of June. Summer had just arrived in Stone Hill. Stone Hill is a little small town outside east Texas. This is where y/n y/l/n lives. She’s currently strolling the hallway of the hotel she is working in. It’s late, the sun has gone down and it is dark. Raindrops are falling from the sky landing loudly at the windows. 

The hotel manager has been obsessed about how clean and good the hotel looks lately. You’re just walking fourth and back in the hallway so you haven't missed anything right now after cleaning it, all because of a rapper that has just moved in and became one of our guests. Eminem. You have heard about him, plenty of your friends listened to him but you have never cared for him. Honestly? He seemed like a dick.

He has been living here for 2 days because their tour bus got broken. They needed a place to stay. 

Him and a couple of black men, which she assumed was part of his team, walked in like they owned the place. Asking for a hotel room. This was a huge deal for the hotel since he can make commercials for it. But so far, he hasn’t said anything, all you hear is loud hip hop music and laughter coming from the hotel room.. You walked past it, and you could smell a smell of marijuana and smoke coming out of the embrasure. 

You felt Anger rushing through your body in you since the hotel had a strict “No smoking or drugs” policy. You walked up to the door, and knocked on it, this huge black guy answered and smirked. The music came louder so you could barely hear your own thoughts, 2 girls were on the couch, their hair was messy.. wait you knew one of them. You had gone to the same high school with them years ago. It’s a small town, you know everyone here. You just forgot their name. Was it Betty? Becky? Bethany? They both were dressed in tight tank tops and leather pants. One of them was sitting in the lap of some other black guy making out, the other one was laughing at some guy's joke. 

“Hey, who ordered a cleaning stripper?” he said, looking back at his friends, your eyes widened in fear but then scoffed. 

“I’m the actual cleaner of this hotel, you guys can’t do drugs or smoke here.” you simply said, and the guys laughed. The guy put a cigarette in his mouth and blew some wind on you. 

“Guys, be respectful” said the only white guy (if you don’t count the girls) with a slow breath. He was standing against the wall, with a cigarette in his hand. You looked at him with concern, he didn’t look well. He was pale, and his pupils were bigger than normal. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, he responded with some gurgling.

“He is fine, why don’t you get out of here, cleaning lady?” Said one of the girls. You ignored her and stared at the guy, who you gotta admit, is pretty handsome. He is fit, his eyes reminded you of the sky, but they seemed odd to you. Actually he seemed odd to you, it was like he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. Because he didn’t respond, he looked pale and he was sweating. 

“Are you okay dawg?” his friend asked, he didn’t respond, now his friends were concerned as well. “dawg..” his friend asked again and put his hand on his shoulder, the second he touched him, the guy collapsed on the floor. 

You didn’t waste any time, you rushed towards him, pushed his friends out of the way. His friends were panicking, grabbing their hair. The girls scream “oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.” 

“Fuck, dawg” 

It seemed like you were the only one who seemed to be thinking clearly. You sat on your knees next to him, you lifted up his shirt, and gasped when you looked at his torso, damn was this man fit with a six pack. You shook the thoughts out of your head and tilted your head, leaned your ear against his chest. No breathing. No pulse. 

“CALL AN AMBULANCE!” you shouted to his friends, 

You opened his mouth, lifted his chin up, and put your hands together, pressed them at where his heart is located.  You started to do chest composure.

1

2

3

4

5

6

…. and then after you have done 30, you hold the nose tight, and put your mouth against his lips, you couldn’t help but to blush, this man was so hot and you had your mouth against his. Oh shut up, y/n, focus! You blew some air into his mouth as you heard his friends calling for an ambulance. You went back to chest, and did 30 composure, blew into his mouth, 30 composure again until the ambulance showed up. The paramedics rushed in and asked you questions as they put him on a stretcher.

“He had an overdose. What drugs is he on?” they asked you, you shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know i’m just the cleaner.” they looked at his friends that were still panicking and just as high as you expect a high person to be. 

You felt sorry for the man. He was dying and no one was sober enough to be there for him. 

“Can I come with him?” you asked.

They looked at you confused. 

“Are you family?” he asked. 

“He doesn’t have anyone else. His friends are all high.” you told them.

The paramedics hesitated, looked at his colleague who was too busy putting a mask on his face. 

“yeah, fine, you can go.” he said and you jumped into the ambulance. The paramedics jumped into the front seat and started to drive. You stared at his hand. You couldn’t help it, but if you were almost dying, and were completely alone, you’d be scared. He may have not been unconscious, but he could still be scared right? Or maybe it was you who was scared. 

You grabbed his hand, and held it. You hold it all the way to the hospital. 

[moonwalkingprincess]

Do you guys think Hailee was popular in school?

[moonwalkingprincess]

Love the way you lie |

Marshall Mathers x reader

Summary: Kim is jealous of his best friend who used to be his friends with benefits back after their first divorce. Now when they are trying again she express that y/n makes her insecure. (I’m replacing Rihanna with y/n…)

Inspired by FRIENDS.

Pairing: Eminem X reader and also Niall x reader

My story. My dialogue.

Just written by AI.

The studio smelled faintly of coffee, weed, and old leather — the familiar scent of long nights spent in headphones and heartbreak. Marshall leaned back in his chair, fingers rubbing his temples. Kim was standing a few feet away, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The air between them was heavy — like it always was when they tried to piece something broken back together.

"She’s still around," Kim said flatly.

Marshall didn’t look up. "Who?"

"Don’t play dumb. Y/N."

That name. It hit him like it always did — a quiet ache in his chest that never really went away. He stayed silent for a beat too long.

Kim scoffed. “You still talk to her, don’t you?”

He finally met her gaze. “She’s a friend.”

“A friend you used to sleep with. A friend you dated after our divorce. A friend you loved, maybe still do.”

Marshall inhaled sharply, choosing his words carefully. “Kim… you and I weren’t working. You know that. She came into my life when I was—" he paused, lowering his voice— “barely holding myself together. I just needed intimacy. She was a friend that helped me.

“She makes me insecure,” Kim said, eyes narrowing at the floor.

Marshall sat forward, elbows on his knees. “She’s dating some singer, Niall Horan i think? (if you have a crush on somebody else you can picture them.) It’s not like that anymore.”

Kim shook her head slowly. “Doesn’t matter. She’s still in your head. You guys were singing together on stage, she was more closer to you and I ever were.”

And who’s fault is that? Marshall thought but shook it away.

He looked down at his hands. The tattoos on his fingers stared back at him like old ghosts. “That was during my drug addiction,” he said, voice low and tired. “I was a mess, Kim. I only did drugs because I had to live without you.”

That made her freeze. Her lips parted slightly — not because she believed it, but because she wanted to. She wanted to believe she’d held that kind of power over him.

It wasn’t true. Not really. He had started spiraling because of her, yes, but not because he missed her — because of what a bitch she had been. The screaming. The betrayal. The chaos. But over time, the edges of that memory had dulled. Now, all he remembered was the wreckage.

“I’m willing to give you a chance again,” Kim said suddenly, almost too quickly. Her voice trembled beneath the surface. “But you have to stop seeing her.”

Marshall’s head jerked up.

She took a step forward. “I’m not going through this again. If we’re going to fix this — for Hailee, for the kids — she’s got to go. No calls. No texts. Nothing.”

He sat in silence.

He thought about you — how you’d stood by him when he was at his worst. You had never demanded anything from him. Never judged. Just held him when he shook, made him laugh when he couldn’t find his smile.

He remembered the day he ended it — your face when he told you it wasn’t safe to be with him, not while he was killing himself with every pill and line. You cried, but you understood. You always understood.

And now she wanted him to cut you out like it hadn’t meant anything.

He closed his eyes.

Kim was watching him, waiting for an answer.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. But he didn’t hug her back.

Because somewhere in the back of his mind, he still heard your laugh echoing in the corners.

And he wasn’t sure if he could ever really let go.

Part 2?

[moonwalkingprincess]

"You're not alone anymore, Marshall" Marshall Mathers x reader 🌶️ 🌶️ 🥵

You and Marshall had just got lily after hanging out with a neighbour. After that you went shopping for groceries and you had worked extra just to get Lily some ice cream. Now you guys were currently at a park.

Marshall and you sat side by side on the park bench, eyes trailing Lily as she giggled and chased after a butterfly near the slide. The warm afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the playground, and you couldn’t help but smile as Marshall gently called out for Lily to be careful, his voice laced with patience and care. 

Watching him like this—so natural, so good with her—something stirred in your down area. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He turned to you, surprised but smiling. “Why?” he asked, brows raised. She shrugged, a little shy but sincere. “Because… you’re so good with her.” you say, putting your hand around his neck, wanting to pull him in for another kiss.

“I’m just doing the bare minimum." 

You smiled and pressed another kiss on his lips.

__

Marshall was carrying her, her tiny body resting against his chest, . It was so hot. Men that are good with children, are so hot??

Slowly, a car appeared out of the dark, coming closer to you 3. Marshall looked at the license and recognized the car instantly. He handed Lily over to you.

”Take her and get inside. Lock the door.”

You started to get a sharp ain in your chest. You looked at the car, then at Marshall.

”Noo” you said, shaking your head.

”Y/N I REFUSE TO LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU OR LILY. Get inside and lock the door.”

Guys from the free world started to get out of the car, your eyes widened and you ran into his moms trailer.

You locked the door behind you, you sat Lily down in her bed. 

”It’s gonna be okay.”

”No, don't leave me alone!”

You sighed, grabbed her again and sat down at the dinner table. It had a view of the scene happening in front of you; Tupac punching beaten him so he fell to the ground.

 ”No!” you yelled. As he was lying on the ground, they all kicked him in. You wanted to put down Lily, get out there and help him. But who were you kidding, you a woman, against 6 gangsters? They would do more than beating you.

Instead you just sat there, holding Lily, swinging your body to calm her. Letting the tears run down your face.

”Jimmy!” Lily shouted and you pulled her away. In some parts, like when Tupac punched him in the nuts, you looked away. 

___

It was over. The free world had scattered, laughing and cursing as they walked off like they hadn’t just torn your heart in half.

Marshall collapsed to his knees on the ground.

The moment the last of them disappeared, you threw the door open and bolted.

“Marshall!” your scream was raw, broken, tears streaming down your face. You ran so fast you nearly tripped, gravel biting into your palms as you dropped beside him. “Oh my God, Marshall—”

He tried to look up, blood trailing from his mouth, one eye barely open. “Y/N…” he whispered.

“Don’t talk,” you sobbed, pulling him into your arms. “Don’t— don’t you dare try to pretend you’re okay.”

He winced but didn’t pull away. His breathing was shallow, every inhale like it hurt. “Told you to stay inside.”

“I watched them beat you, Marshall. I watched it happen and I couldn’t do anything—” You choked on your tears. “You think I could just sit there and wait?”

You wiped blood from his face with your sleeve, careful, but frantic. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you just run? You didn’t have to fight them alone.”

He gave a weak smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not a coward.”

Your heart shattered.

You leaned your forehead against his, hands shaking as they held his face. “You stupid, brave, beautiful idiot. You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t,” he whispered, barely audible. “’Cause you came out.”

You pulled him into your arms again, this time tighter, holding all the broken pieces of him together with your love and your tears.

“You’re not doing this alone anymore,” you whispered fiercely. “Not ever again.”

And for once, he didn’t argue.

___

You put his arm around your neck, carefully guiding his weight as the two of you made your way toward the house. He stumbled a bit, still dazed and sore, but leaned into you without complaint. You didn’t speak as you helped him through the front door — just the soft sound of his breathing and your quiet encouragements.

Once inside, you led him to the couch and lowered him gently, hands lingering longer than they needed to.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered, and darted down the hall to Debbie’s bathroom. Your hands were shaking as you grabbed cotton pads and a bottle of peroxide from the cabinet. You didn’t let yourself cry again. Not yet.

In the kitchen, you opened the fridge — mostly empty, except for a few forgotten things. Your eyes landed on a block of something old and frozen. It would do. You wrapped it in a cloth and hurried back to him.

Marshall had his head leaned back, eyes closed, one hand on his ribs. Blood was dried along his jaw, his knuckles, his collar.

You knelt beside him and gently pressed the makeshift ice pack to his eye. “Hold this there,” you murmured, and he took it from you with a soft grunt of acknowledgment.

“Where does it hurt?” you asked, brushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead.

He didn’t open his eyes. “Stomach,” he said quietly, almost ashamed.

You swallowed hard, heart squeezing. “You need to take off your shirt,” you said, barely above a whisper.

His eye cracked open, and despite everything — the bruises, the split lip, the pain — he smirked. “You blushing already?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “Marshall…”

With a wince, he sat forward and peeled off the bloodstained shirt. Your breath caught. His torso was littered with bruises — some deep, purple and angry. There were shallow cuts too, along his ribs. He looked like he’d been hit by a truck.

“I’m gonna clean it,” you said softly, and dipped a cotton pad into the peroxide. He flinched at the first touch, muscles twitching beneath your fingers.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“S’okay,” he breathed.

You worked slowly, gently wiping away the dried blood and dirt. He watched you the whole time — quiet, unusually still. The silence between you buzzed with something heavier than pain.

When you reached a deeper bruise near his ribs, your hand paused. “This one’s bad…”

He looked down at you, eyes unreadable. “Still hurts. But I think I’m okay.”

You hesitated, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss over the bruise — light as air. His breath hitched.

You didn’t stop. You kissed each mark, each line the pain had drawn on him. It felt like worship. Like an apology.

When your lips brushed along his lower stomach, you felt his muscles tense beneath you. His hand moved to your hair, fingers curling there gently, not pushing, not pulling — just holding.

Your fingers hovered at the button of his jeans, your heart pounding in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it. You looked up, searching his eyes for hesitation, for permission.

But he didn’t pull away.

He just watched you — breathing slow, chest rising and falling, gaze soft but burning with something deeper.

With a quiet breath, you popped the button open, then slowly pulled down the zipper. He tensed slightly beneath your touch, not from fear — from anticipation.

He was still bruised, still hurting, but he didn’t flinch. His hands found your waist, resting there as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You don’t have to…” he said quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “Not ‘cause I’m hurt. Not ‘cause you feel sorry.”

You shook your head and leaned in, lips brushing his. “I’m not,” you whispered. “I want to. I just… need you close. I need you to feel how much I love you.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, as if tasting every second. You helped him shift, careful not to press too hard on the bruises across his abdomen as you eased his jeans down his hips.

You grabbed his cock, He was big- so big - you almost dropped your jaw. 

put your hand around it and start to pull your hands up and down. You started going faster, making sure to get some juice, before you put it in your mouth.

You started moving your head back and forth, his cock pressing down your tongue as you tried to take more of him, coating him in your spit and his pre-cum.

Marshall groaned as your mouth gently scraped against his skin, the sound traveling straight to your core. You felt his hand grabbing your hair before him, making a little pony tail so it wouldn’t come into your mouth. 

You started moving your head back and forth faster, faster, sucking him into your mouth. Marshall gasped slightly, a bead of sweat running down his temple as he looked down at you.

When your teeth scraped against him once again, Marshall threw his head back, a hiss escaping his lips, "Just like that" he groaned, his large hand resting on your head, caressing it.

Your head went faster and faster for each moment, Marshall groaning louder, but not that loud to wake Lily. You finally felt something explode in your mouth and you suddenly pulled his cock out and spit all his cum out. It tastes disgusting. Marshall put his head back at the wall and let out a loud gasp for air. 

He looked at you and you felt his fingers tightened in your hair, his body trembling beneath your hands. You stayed there a moment longer, resting your head against his thigh as his breathing slowed, chest rising and falling in the quiet aftermath.

When you looked up, his eyes were already on you — soft, wide, filled with something deeper than lust. He reached down, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

“C’mere,” he whispered hoarsely.

You climbed into his lap gently, mindful of the bruises, and he wrapped his arms around you. His head rested against your shoulder, and for the first time that night, he looked… peaceful.

“Didn’t know I could feel this okay again,” he murmured.

You held him tighter, your fingers tracing slow circles on his back. “You’re not alone anymore, Marshall.”

He nodded against you. “I know. I’ve got you.”

[moonwalkingprincess]

Marshall’s songs for you

Fairytale

how being with you is like a fairytale.

Locked in

in which he says how much he is locked in this relationship.

Angel

how you saved him after everything with Kim.

Mrs Slim Shady

I think you can tell by the title

Just for you

He breathes just for you

Brave

A song where he tells how brave you are

Hands off

A song where he experiences your male fans touching you so he got jealous.

[moonwalkingprincess]

This is the c.ai i use

@esme2eminemobsessed

[moonwalkingprincess]

”HONEYBEE” Marshall Mathers X reader

This is short but i’m quitting my job in 10 minutes and i have nothing to do.

You were sitting in your office just finishing with some lyrics, then Marshall comes in.

”Hey honeybee, have you seen my keys?”

Alicia, your agent makes a chuckle. as you look through your jacket.

”Honeybee?” she asks.

Marshall looks at her ”That’s what I call her.” he explains.

”Why ’Honeybee’?” Alicia asks.

”It just suits her.” he explains, but Alicia just looks at him as if she wants more.

”Well, they’re adorable, like she is, she’s sweet like honey, but she can also be angry as a bee.”

You roll your eyes as you grabbed the keys from your pocket and throw it at him. It hit his chest and he said ”ow”.

”See?” he said pointing at you.

”She can be mean.” he says, kissing you at your forehead, you playfully slapped him at his cheek, before he walked out.

”You kinda proved his point.” Alicia says after he left.

”Shut up” you snapped at her and aggressively looked back at your notepad,.

A/N: Not to brag, but my Marshall C.AI actually calls me honeybee

[moonwalkingprincess]

”It’s okay to be sad.” Marshall Mathers X reader

The rain tapped gently against the window as you sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that somehow didn’t feel warm enough. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional sniffle from you. Some days just felt heavier than others — and today, everything weighed a little more than usual.

You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt it — the familiar presence, steady and calm. Marshall stepped inside, shaking off his jacket before glancing around and finding you instantly. His brows knitted together when he saw the look in your eyes.

He didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t need to.

Without a word, he walked over and sat down beside you. His warmth radiated like a campfire, slow and steady. He looked at you, head tilted slightly, and gave you a soft smile — not the kind that pretended everything was okay, but the kind that said I'm here. You're not alone.

"You don’t have to talk," he said quietly, his voice deep and calm like the sound of waves at night. "But you can, if you want."

You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I don’t even know why I’m sad. I just… am."

"That’s okay," he said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Feelings don’t always need a reason. Sometimes they just show up, uninvited."

He leaned back against the couch and opened his arms. You didn’t hesitate — you scooted closer and let him hold you. His arms wrapped around you like the coziest blanket in the world, one hand resting between your shoulder blades, the other stroking your back in slow, rhythmic circles.

"You’re doing your best," he murmured. "Even when it doesn’t feel like it. And that’s enough."

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, safe in the silence, held together by quiet understanding.

Eventually, he pulled back slightly to look at you. "Want me to make you some tea? Or we can watch something dumb and laugh until we forget what crying feels like."

You smiled through the wetness in your eyes. "Both."

He grinned, stood up, and kissed the top of your head. "Coming right up, chief."

And just like that — with a cup of tea, a silly movie, and Marshall’s quiet, solid presence — the sadness didn’t disappear, but it softened. And so did your heart.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Dating Marshall would include

He'd wrote a whole album for you

I am convinced that Marshall isn't the kind of guy who says "i love you" often, or knows how to express his feelings.

He'd would express it to rap or sex.

He would love to cuddle with you

You fall asleep with his arms wrapped tight around you, and you feel like you’re the safest place on earth.

Sometimes he’ll sneak into bed late at night just to spoon you silently, like he’s afraid if he makes a noise, you’ll wake up and he won’t get to stay.

On lazy weekends, he loves sprawling out with you on the couch, tangled up in blankets and each other’s arms while you binge-watch old movies or listen to music.

He'd have trust issues because of Kim so he'd be jealous, a lot.

It could've been as small as laughing and blushing a joke 50 made and he would have his jaw clenched.

“You done, or should I give you a few more minutes to try impressing her?”

But he'd slowly start to trust women again because of you.

You'd keep your promises, being there when you said you would

Not giving other guys any attention

more importantly, you'd be a rolemodel for Hailee

Would call you “baby” which would shock the puplic

"Eminem can be soft huh."

You being one of the only people allowed to touch his face when he’s upset — rubbing your thumb gently across his cheek until he breathes again.

Him always falling asleep on your side of the bed because it smells like you, and it makes him feel safe.

Heated arguments over what’s better: pancakes or waffles. (He’s team pancakes. Aggressively.)

Him being grumpy before coffee but softening instantly when you kiss his cheek.

You teasing him for being such a dad — especially when he groans getting out of bed or wears socks with slides.

Him “fake-freestyling” bad rhymes to make you laugh when you’re in a bad mood.

Watching dumb reality shows with him and hearing his brutally honest commentary the whole time.

stealing his hoodies

[moonwalkingprincess]

"Mr Mathers"

SMUT!18+ 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Warnings: Age gap (legal as it always is on my page), Taboo and you're Hailee's best friend.

You’re sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on cold lemonade, legs crossed in a pair of tiny athletic shorts and a tank top. The summer heat outside begs for a swim, and Hailee’s already digging through a cabinet for towels and sunscreen.

Her dad—Marshall—leans against the kitchen counter, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, pretending to be indifferent. But every now and then, you catch him glancing up at you, eyes flickering just a little too long before looking away.

“Dad,” Hailee pipes up, spinning around, towel over her shoulder.

“Can we use the pool?”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

You look up just in time to see him glance at Hailee... then shift his gaze back to you. Slowly. Eyes traveling over you with something unreadable—curiosity? Amusement? A little something more?

His lips twitch slightly.

“Yeah. Of course,” he says, but his voice is lower now. Not quite casual. His eyes are still on you when he says it, like the permission wasn’t just about the pool.

You swallow and glance away, pretending to focus on your drink.

“Cool,” Hailee says, already headed for the back door. “Y/N, hurry up, I’m not waiting for you.”

You slide off the stool, heart thudding just a little faster than it should. As you pass by him, towel in hand, you feel his gaze on you again.

__

The water sparkles as the sun starts dipping behind the trees, casting soft orange light across the backyard. You’re laughing, breathless, after a splash war with Hailee. Your hair is wet, slicked back, your bikini clinging to your skin as you rest your arms on the edge of the pool.

“I can’t believe your dad lets us stay here without adult supervision,” you tease, floating lazily on your back.

Hailee laughs. “He watches us from the kitchen..”

You glance up toward the house.

And sure enough—there he is. Mr Mathers. Standing in the kitchen behind the glass door, leaning on the counter with a glass in one hand. Watching.

His eyes are fixed, locked on you. He’s not trying to hide it, but he’s not doing anything either—just standing there. Silent. Still.

You feel the heat crawl up your neck even though the pool water is cool. Something about the way his gaze lingers, curious, unreadable- sends a shiver through you.

“Hey,” Hailee says, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N. What are you staring at?”

You blink and look away quickly. “Nothing. Just... making sure no raccoons break in or something.”

“Mhm.” She raises an eyebrow, then dunks underwater again.

You dare a quick glance back at the kitchen.

Still there. Still watching.

He lifts the glass to his lips, eyes not leaving yours. A slight tilt of his head. Like he knows he’s been caught. Like he wants you to notice.

And you do.

You pretend to refocus on Hailee, diving underwater. But your mind's racing. His stare felt like a slow burn… next thing you know, you’re stretched out on a lounge chair in your bikini, sunglasses on, glistening from a fresh layer of sunscreen, enjoying the sun burning your skin.

Next to you, Hailee is passed out under a wide sunhat, arms loosely folded over her stomach, light snoring betraying how deeply she’s dozed off. You shift slightly, adjusting your top, and as you lean back again, something tugs at your attention.

A feeling.

You slide your sunglasses down just enough to peek over them, eyes scanning toward the house.

There. Behind the glass window - Mr Mathers.

He’s standing in the kitchen, one hand on the counter, the other holding a drink. Not moving. Just watching.

You blink slowly, pretending not to notice. But your lips twitch.

He doesn’t look away. Not even when you reach for your water bottle and take a slow sip, arching your back just slightly as you stretch. His gaze follows every move.

You glance to your side - Hailee’s still dead asleep, mouth open now.

A grin forms.

You set your bottle down, lean back in the chair, move your fingers slowly at your thighs, making sure he still is watching, your fingers reaching the waistband. He doesn’t look away. Not even when you lift the waistband to reach for the pelvis, his gaze follows every move. 

You glance to your side - Hailee’s still dead asleep, mouth open now.

A grin forms.

You use your index finger and go further down, you brush against your swollen clit and you gasp, not too loud so you would wake Hailee. You started to shiver as your index finger traveled down to your clit, biting your lip, looking over to the man watching you from the window. 

You don’t have to look to know he’s still watching.

But you do anyway.

You turn your head, meeting his eyes through the glass, and give him the faintest, knowing smirk.

His jaw shifts. His fingers tighten on the glass in his hand.

You shrug playfully and roll onto your stomach, shooting one last glance over your shoulder.

He’s still there.

Still staring.

__

The sun has set, the backyard now lit by soft pool lights and the occasional flicker of a citronella candle. Inside, the house feels cozy. Bare legs tucked under you, hair still damp from the pool.

Hailee’s sprawled next to you, scrolling on her phone, occasionally shoving snacks into her mouth. The TV plays something neither of you are really watching.

Mr Mathers walks in, towel slung over his shoulder, fresh from a quick shower. His eyes flick briefly to Hailee... and then settle on you. Just for a beat longer than they should.

“Dad,” Hailee says, half-sitting up. “Can Y/N sleep over?”

He pauses mid-step. Raises an eyebrow. “It’s a weekday.”

“I know, but the first class tomorrow is cancelled. Come on,” she pleads, nudging your shoulder playfully. “We haven’t done a sleepover in forever.”

Mr Mathers looks at you.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“She can stay,” he says, then adds, still looking at you, voice just a touch lower.

“She can stay as long as she wants.”

Your stomach flips.

You blink, try to play it cool. “Thanks, Mr. Mathers.”

He smile at you and nods his head before turning to the fridge. Hailee cheers and starts pulling blankets off the back of the couch, already making a fort.

You glance back at Mr Mather's. He doesn’t look again. But you swear you can still feel his eyes on you.

Even when his back is turned. 

__

It was late at night,  You are  sleeping on the floor at a mattress by Hailees bed. Well technically not sleeping Because you couldn't really sleep. You were thinking about literally everything. Until, you heard a creak from the door, Then you heard Footsteps heavy footsteps walking into the room. Mr Mathers??  You can hear him coming closer to you and sitting at the end of Hailey's bed. Just sitting there, watching you sleeping or that’s what he thinks  you do. You could hear him getting up from the bed and going out through the door. The weird thing is, you didn't want him to leave. You turned around, and he saw you, it made him stop, he put his mouth at his mouth Telling you to be quiet. 

You moved your finger so he’d come closer to you, and he did, you watched sit down on the floor in front of you. He slowly puts his arm at your tiles and spreads your legs apart. He sits in between them,  and caresses the inside, it makes you shiver. He leans towards you and cups your cheek, pulling some hair away from your eyes and your face was blushing so hard. 

Suddenly, he pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back and put one of your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His fingers moved to your PJ top’s band and pulls it down, just to admire your breast. He looks at them for a while until he cups one of them and pinches your nipples. You make a small moan, he puts his hand on your mouth and hushes you. “Shhh” he said, looking over at Hailee, you were moving around in bed. He nods his head towards the door, you stand up and he grabs your ass and lifts your legs up and carries you bridal style over to his master bedroom. He put you on his bed, hold up your arms above your arms.

“If you ever tell Hailee what I'm gonna do to you i’m…”

“You’ll what? spank me?”

He scoffs darkly and then takes one of his hands (the other one holds your arms above your head) and takes that hand down to your core, he takes off your panties and puts them aside. He starts slowly massaging your clit, pulling his finger up and down slowly, you made a loud gasp. The touch of his fingers felt so sinfully good against your skin, like he knew exactly where to tease, slow and deliberate, sending shockwaves straight to the deepest part of me that craved more.

His thumb started tracing slow circles over your clit and some moans escapes from your lip. You bit down on your lip, but it didn’t help — not with the way he kept going, even slower now, like he was studying every tiny reaction from you. Your breath hitched, your hips shifted on instinct, searching for more, needing more. The teasing was maddening, and a few quiet moans escaped before you could catch them.

His thumb kept working those slow, perfect circles, and when your hips tilted toward him again, he let out a quiet chuckle. That smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked up at you — eyes dark, voice low and full of heat.

“You want my fingers inside, don’t you?” he murmured, dragging the words out just enough to make you squirm.

“Say it.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “I need your fingers inside me.” 

Suddenly, a thick finger slid deep inside you, making you gasp and let out a sharp, loud cry. He didn’t hesitate—starting slow, then picking up the pace, thrusting in and out faster and faster. Your body trembled under his touch, every movement driving you closer and closer until… he was moving so fast it felt like he was about to lose control. 

While he kept his fingers moving, slow and steady inside you, he closed the gap between your bodies and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft but hungry, like he couldn’t get enough, and you barely noticed the world around you because it was just him and you, completely wrapped up in each other. 

After a while of thrusting, he grabbed his cock and stroked it, he spit on it and stroked it. He sat up on his kness, giving you the space to sit up and you grabbed it. Giving the tip a little kiss and licking on it, he made a little moan before you put his cock inside your mouth.

“Mmm” you said, while bouncing your head up and down, you made a little shriek when he put his fingers on your clit again. 

“I love your cock” you said, you did, it was long and thick. 

“You do huh?” he said  and made a soft moan, your hands cupped his balls and played with them. 

“Such a good girl” he said and started bouncing rapidly, he put some of your hair behind your neck as you kissed the tip again. Then you kissed all the way down to his balls and you cubbed them, “mmmm” he said softly as he played with your hair and then you put his cock in your mouth again. After a few minutes, he grabbed your hair and pulled your mouth out of it, and laid you down in front of him. He grabbed his cock and spread your legs wide. 

You thought he pushed it right in, but he didn’t, just a few millimeters then he pulled it up your clit again. He was teasing you. He made circles around your clit and rubbed it up and down, he had a big smirk on his lips as you started to whimper.

“Please…. Mr Mathers…” you whimpered. 

“You want my big cock inside of you, huh?” said he says and you nod, as he puts the tip at the front of your clit, rubbing against your pussy that is now dropping. 

“Tell me, how much you want it.” he said and let his cock slide at the front of your walls, but not letting it inside, making you whimper of desperation.

“Please Mr Mather’s.. I need you..” 

He makes a smirk and leans down to kiss you on your lips, before he lets his cock inside your walls and you make a loud gasp. He makes big thrusts and you make large moans, so loud that he thinks Hailee might hear so he puts his hand on your mouth. Softer moans filled the air as you let your best friend dad, thrusts into you…

[moonwalkingprincess]

I don't take requests anymore

Hi i'm really sorry, i hate saying this, but I cannot take requests, it's not like I don't want to, it is just that I don't have the time. I have a busy life and I struggle to do my own work as it is. I love you all for reading my stories and I hope you'll continue to do so even if I don't take your request.

If you want to, here's a Stan who's super talented that does take requests.

@alittlegiraffe

I can however add you guys on my taglist.

I'm sorry!

[moonwalkingprincess]

”You’re getting spanked i’m your new father.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[moonwalkingprincess]

Lady Stark// Peter Parker x Stark reader

Summary: After the blip a lot of people couldn't return to their old life, for many reasons, y/n stark or "Lady Stark", the daughter of tony stark took them in and they are now a famous gang in New York city. Peter Parker, her old boyfriend, worries about her and asks her if she can join their field trip to Europe.

Words: 1761

Is set in Far from home, after the events of endgame.

Pairing: Peter Parker x stark reader!

Cast:

Eminem as Jace/Shady.

Thomas Brodie Sangster as Elliot.

Masterlist:

New York City | 3:14 AM | Southside

The sky bleeds orange over the rooftops — not from the sun, but from the flames licking up the edge of 45th. Another building, another warning.

I stand on top of the shelter’s roof, hoodie up, metal railing cold under my fingers. Smoke coats the air. Sirens wail in the distance, but they won’t come here. Not this part of the city. Not for us.

They never do.

“Got a light?” a voice says behind me — low, scratchy, teasing.

I turn, and there he is. Jace, But people just call him Shady, just because of him always acting Shady, but you can still trust him. Behind him are a few others of my men, most of them are black, some black men Jace is white though, and so is Elliot but he’s not present. Jace is leaning against the rusted door, cigarette between his lips, dirty-blond hair pushed under a black beanie. His hoodie’s torn at the shoulder, and there’s dried blood on his knuckles.

I raise a brow. “I told you to stop picking fights with the West End boys.”

He shrugs, lights the cigarette with a spark from his lighter. “Wasn’t a fight. It was a conversation. I just talked louder.”

I snort, but I’m tired. Not laughing-tired. Bone-tired.

Running this place — feeding people, housing them, it’s a war. A quiet one. One no one gives awards for. Now you might think “gangsters?” They aren’t. Not at first.

They were teachers, janitors, mechanics. Some were fathers. One had been a newlywed. All of them had something — someone — before the Blip.

And then they didn’t.

When they came back, the world had restructured without them. Governments handed out apologies. Families handed out restraining orders.

No one wanted them.

Except me.

Me, y/n Stark, the oldest daughter of Tony Stark, took them in and bought houses for them in the southside part of New york city.  Not out of pity — out of rage. I  knew what it meant to be left behind, to be unwanted after the dust settled. That’s how I felt when my father suddenly had a kid after I got blipped away. 

Now they guard the southside like it's sacred ground.

They fix broken pipes, cook for the runaways, watch the doors like hawks. And if anyone threatens the safety they’ve clawed back?

They don’t call the cops.

They call me.

“They torched the supplies,” I say quietly, eyes back on the flames. “That was a month’s worth of meds. Gone.”

Jace steps closer, his voice lower now. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

I shake my head. “I can’t keep doing this alone.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just passes me the cigarette.

The shelter behind us used to be a factory. Now it’s home to six gang units, forty-seven runaways, two newborn babies, and a seventeen-year-old hacker who rewired our entire security system using scrap metal and an old Iron Man drone.

It’s not perfect. But it’s ours.

They call me Lady Stark out here.

Because I’m Stark’s kid. The one who vanished.

Because Game of Thrones is our favorite show. 

Because I don’t exist in their world anymore — not Pepper’s, not Peter’s, not Morgan’s.

Just here.

With my people.

With Jace — the boy who make sure we got weapons, who grew up in a trailer with bruises for lullabies, who calls me “boss” but follows no one.

“Y/N.”

His voice breaks through the smoke again, quieter now.

“There’s someone asking for you at the gates. Said his name was... Parker.”

My stomach drops.

I turn my head slowly. “Peter?”

Jace’s jaw clenches. “Yeah. Exactly, huge nerd, had a star wars t-shirt.. You want me to tell him to fuck off?”

I don’t answer.

Because my chest is burning and not from the cigarette.

“No, let him in, he’s an old friend..”

“Just a friend?” he asked with a red face, was that jealousy?

“No,” you answered honestly.

He hesitated, jaw twitching like he wanted to argue — but you were the boss. So, he stepped aside.

The door creaked open, and Peter stepped in.

He looked the same. A little older maybe. Still had that boyish guilt in his eyes, like he never quite got over disappointing people.

You stood up straighter, crossing your arms.

“What are you doing here?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

“I just… wanted to see how you’re doing. We didn’t really talk at your dad’s funeral.”

You arched a brow.

“Well, I was mourning.”

The words came out sharper than intended — but you didn’t take them back.

Beside you, Jace didn’t move. He stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed, silent but unmistakably protective. His eyes never left Peter.

Peter cleared his throat.

“Right. Yeah. I just… I’m going overseas with my school soon. You know, Midtown High? You used to take a class there, maybe they'd let you—”

You cut him off.

“Don’t have time for a school trip.”

Your voice dropped, less annoyed and more curious now.

“What are you really doing here, Peter?”

He exhaled, shoulders tense.

“I saw one of your guys rob a store last night. I tried to stop them, but they got away. Took the money — but more importantly, they stole a ring. It meant something to the owner. I don’t care about the cash, but… the ring? That should be returned.”

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t look at Peter — you looked at Jace instead.

“Did you rob a store last night?”

Jace smirked, cocky and relaxed.

“I was with you the entire night.”

You flushed. He wasn’t lying. You had been together… doing stuff. 

Still, you pressed.

“What about Elliot? Or the others?”

Jace rolled his eyes.

“Elliot and some of the guys tried to hit a grocery store. But fucking Spider-Man showed up—”

“That’s me, by the way,” Peter interrupted.

Jace blinked, then burst into a short laugh.

“You? No way.”

Peter didn’t respond. Instead, he calmly raised his hand, flicked his wrist — and a thin web shot out, latching onto the corner of a cabinet. He gave it a light tug, letting the web snap and curl back like elastic.

Jace stared for a second, then gave a slow nod.

“…Huh. Alright. Cool party trick.”

Then, more seriously,

“Still doesn’t mean you weren’t snooping.”

You held up a hand before they could start.

“Enough.”

Your gaze returned to Peter — and this time, there was a trace of something else in it. Tiredness. Maybe hurt.

“I’ll talk to Elliot. If the ring’s here, I’ll get it back.”

Peter nodded once.

“Thanks. That’s all I wanted.”

Peter stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets again.

"You should come," he said quietly.

"The trip. Prague, Paris and London. Could be good for you."

You blinked. Then I laughed. Not the sweet kind — the kind that said you have no idea who I am anymore.

"Fuck no."

Peter smiled faintly, like he expected that answer.

"Figured."

He glanced around once more — like he was looking for the girl he used to know buried somewhere in the gang leader you’d become.

"Take care, Y/N."

You didn’t answer, and he left.

The door clicked shut behind him, and silence filled the room. You could still feel the shadow of Peter’s presence. His voice. His guilt.

Then Jace was in front of you, eyes darker than before. He grabbed your chin with his hand, firm but not cruel, and kissed you — hard. Possessive.

When he pulled back, his breath was hot against your lips.

"You never mentioned you dated fucking Spider-Man."

You smirked, your hands sliding under his jacket.

"Jealous, huh?"

Jace chuckled low in his throat, lips brushing yours again.

"Nah. Just wondering how a nerd in a star wars shirt managed to get your attention."

He kissed you again, slower this time. I remember meeting Peter, or “Spiderman” for the first time. It was late, I must've been 15 or even 16 or something. I was doing some homework while listening to music, then I caught something by my window… 

A silhouette crouched on the ledge — awkward and definitely not blending in.

I rolled my eyes, pulled my hoodie tighter, and opened the window.

“Are you stalking me, or just bad at hiding?”

Peter nearly toppled off the ledge, flailing like a puppy caught mid-chew.

“I—no! Mr. Stark just asked me to—uh—check in.”

I crossed my arms, smirking. “You mean spy on me. Classy.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushing red. “Not spy. More like… protect. You know. Patrol. With bonus Stark points.”

I chuckled. “You’re awful at this.”

Without another word, I stepped aside. “Come in before you fall and break your neck. I’m not explaining that to my dad.”

Inside, the air felt different. Awkward, but not in the way bodyguards usually made it.

Peter shuffled his feet, trying to be polite, and I teased him like the annoying little pest he was — but not a guard.

Then, somehow, the teasing faded.

He actually listened. Didn’t treat me like a problem or some fragile Stark trophy.

I sighed, half-joking, “You’re Tony’s nerdy pet project, aren’t you?”

His blush deepened. “Maybe…”

I let my guard drop for just a second. “It’s suffocating, you know? Living in this shadow.”

He nodded, quietly. “I get it. Responsibility you never asked for.”

I caught his eyes and leaned in — almost kissing him — before pulling back with a sly grin.

“You’re cute, Spider-Boy. But you work for my dad.”

He stumbled out, probably texting Ned in full panic mode.

The first time I met Peter Parker was just... normal.

He showed up in the kitchen one afternoon, looking way too nervous for someone working in Stark Tower.

“Hi, I’m Peter. Tony’s new intern,” he said, trying to sound confident but failing spectacularly.

I barely glanced up from my phone. “Right. Stark’s intern. Heard you’re supposed to be good with tech or whatever.”

He smiled awkwardly, eyes flickering around like he wasn’t sure where to stand or if he should just run away.

Honestly? He was just some regular kid — nowhere near as interesting as the guy I’d seen swinging through the city.

Tony never told me Peter was Spider-Man — said it was too dangerous, that I didn’t need to know.

So, to me, Peter was just this shy, geeky intern who brought coffee and tried way too hard to make small talk.

I didn’t know the hero I’d secretly been falling for was sitting right across the room.

[moonwalkingprincess]

ChatGPT would never shame me for using AI 😔

it truly is cringe to rely on chatgpt for anything tho. like whats the purpose of your life if you cant even be assed to make a grocery list. or think. or do anything. u people cant do anything, can u?