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fairuzfan · 6 months

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hello!! I don't know if this is appropriate (pls do not feel obligated to answer) but i was wondering what were ur thoughts on the israeli grass-roots movement Standing Together. I first found out abt them through a tumblr post that shared this substack article (https://theconnector.substack.com/p/if-its-not-helping-then-shut-the). the article immediately put an extremely bad taste in my mouth towards the movement and its founders, but i dont know if i'm being overly-critical of them.

Hey thanks for sending this in. No worries, it's totally ok. I was actually debating whether or not to publish this, mostly because I was afraid this would distract from Gaza, but I decided that it's imperative to stop normalizers from squeezing their way into the movement. Remember, the demands of the Palestinian people begin and end with liberation. Everything else is irrelevant and pointless to the cause.

So first off — I don't think you're being overly-critical of them at all. The first red flag of both this article and the group themselves is that they often exchange "Palestinian" with "Arab" and "Israeli" with "Jewish." That right off the bat shows me they have no respect for Palestinians and see Jewish people and Palestinians as mutually exclusive categories. I've spoken on this blog before about how racist it is to assume no Palestinian is Jewish and vice versa and this group really illustrates the forced division they imagine within their own goals and wording.

The article itself is quite anti-Palestinian in its erasure — it talks about avoiding words like "genocide," and "apartheid," and "ethnic cleansing" because "they are serious people trying to actually get something done." I really don't understand why not using those words makes you a serious person. If anything, it erases a description of how to define what it happening to Palestinians.

The whole redefinition of "peace" in this article and group is just calmness. These people are not advocating for peace in which families are reunited and land is given back — they are advocating for a muted version of the status quo of the current political system, just with less obviously fanatical governments. Peace cannot be attained when the people directly affected cannot have a say in defining it. They won't even say the word "apartheid." It's not some scholarly word with no meaning — it has actual consequences and effects on people (click). Palestinians are tried in military court. Their movement is monitored and restricted. It means that there are different legal systems for different people (click)! If you reject that this exists, then you're not interested in making the lives of Palestinians better — you're only interested in making your own life more comfortable.

As soon as you remove our ability to say words like "genocide" and "apartheid", you remove our ability to determine what happens specifically to Palestinians based on racism. By only saying "Palestinians are getting killed" an Israeli can come in and say "well so am I, by Hamas! Let's work together to end the killing" when it ignores that this is a systematic effort to completely wipe out all trace of Palestinians from the world.

It's like saying, "Don't say you have arthritis, say your joints hurt. And well, that happens to everyone, so let's just find a way to stop all our joints from hurting!" Then you work with people who fundamentally don't understand your pain and symptoms, oversimplifying your situation to the point of malicious universality. Sure, everyone's joints hurt, but my joints are hurting because my immune system is attacking them, not because of old age. You can't help my arthritis the same way you can wear a heat/cold patch to sooth your joints — there are other problems you're ignoring that all work together to cause me systematic pain and might cause bigger problems in the future if left untreated properly.

Similar symptoms don't mean similar causes and ignoring that is fundamentally ignoring the root issue and attempting to trivialize Palestinian's suffering. As soon as you take away the words to describe our situation, it doesn't sound so bad, does it?

Now, basically, the... weirdest part of the article is this excerpt:

People like him in Israel are very aware of how the left here is talking about them, and it’s not helping. “You can call me a colonizer or a settler,” he declared, “but I’m not going anywhere. And neither are the Palestinians.” When people chant, “Palestine will be free,” he said, “we Israelis hear, ‘without you.’ In the same way that a lot of Palestinians hear the ministers in Bibi’s government speak and think they want to do the same thing to them.” The problem as they both see it is that we are caught between two polar opposites. “Hamas believes in Greater Palestine,” Green said. “And on the other side we have people who believe in the idea of Greater Israel.” Indeed, that concept is in the charter of Netanyahu’s Likud Party. “Both sides have very problematic governing bodies,” he added. And the status quo of maintaining the occupation and managing the conflict has been exploded now.

Well, first off, Hamas is not the only one who believes in "Greater Palestine." Palestinians around the globe have been fighting for that since 1948. Second off, it's quite odd that you would center yourself in the wake of the ongoing slaughter of 10,000 people, with no end in sight. Right now, I would assume you'd be advocating for an end to the mass killings first and foremost, but you seem to be more worried about your right to stolen land.

Third, this completely erases the violence done to Palestinians the past 75+ years in favor for a "peace" that will only allow citizens of Israel comfort in their lives. Sure Palestinian citizens of Israel might have more comfortable lives, maybe (although I doubt it). But what about Gaza, which has been ravaged by Israel? What about the people in the Occupied Territories, whose economy depends on Israel, which controls it? What about the millions of refugees around the world who can't so much as see the place where they grew up because they've been exiled? The colonization of Palestine by Israel is not so old — there are people STILL ALIVE who participated in the massacres of Palestinians in 1948 and 1967 and walk around without facing any real consequences for that. My great-grandmother had seen both and she only passed away a couple of years ago. Where is the "peace" for her? Where is the "peace" for millions like her who still dream of going back to their childhood home?

This group AND the article tries to cloud your view into illustrating two opposing groups with equal power. They aren't. Palestinians, unfortunately, endure systematic oppression both within Gaza and throughout Palestine. Each and every time they try to resist peacefully, they've been shot, abducted, or imprisoned. The Great March of Return is one such example. BDS is also an example, yet that has constantly been outlawed by American governments. There have been a plethora of Palestinian artists, writers, and filmmakers who have been silenced or killed for advocating for a Free Palestine. Most recently, this included Heba Abu-Nada who was an award winning poet and writer who was martyred on October 20th after getting shelled by an Israeli missile. Ghassan Kanafani also was assassinated last century. The list goes on. Palestinians have no hope of "changing the system from within" because that internal change will always depend on the mercy of the Israelis that pretend to ally themselves with the Palestinians. Someone in Gaza cannot leave their refugee camp and go back to their ancestral home because no one in this group is advocating for that — and remember, the right of return is an essential part of the demands of the Palestinian people and we cannot ignore that for a forced "peace" that favors calmness over actual justice.

Now as we examine the group themselves, here is their mission statement/goal:

Standing Together is a progressive grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel against the occupation and for peace, equality, and social justice. We know that the majority have far more in common than that which sets us apart and only a tiny minority benefits from the status quo. The future that we want-peace and independence for Israelis and Palestinians, full equality for everyone in this land, and true social, economic, and environmental justice — is possible. To achieve this future, we must stand together as a united front: Jewish and Palestinian, secular and religious, Mizrahi and Ashkenazi, rural and urban, and people of all genders and sexual orientations. As the largest Jewish-Arab grassroots movement in Israel, we are committed to creating an alternative to our existing reality and building the political strength to make this transformation possible.

Yet again, they are separating "Palestinian" and "Jewish," reinforcing this dichotomy that's so harmful. AND they're interchanging "Palestinian" and "Arab," which erases the diversity within Palestinian society. A group that makes the distinction between "Palestinian" and "Jewish" shows that they are not interested in the restitution of Palestinians but rather solidifying their own position within society by emphasizing a false dichotomy between "Palestinians" and "Jews" with no potential for overlap.

They mention "true justice" but "true justice" doesn't exist if there are no reparations towards the people who have been exiled and displaced, murdered, and tortured the past 75+ years. Justice is not an abstract concept — it is adhering to the demands of the people most impacted by systematic oppression, which is the Palestinians.

Looking at their leadership, there are only a couple of Palestinians with the vast majority of them being non-Palestinian. Sorry, but I'm wholly uninterested in "peace" and "equality" movements that are not made up of majority Palestinians. It's only common sense that you would expect such a movement to be led by Palestinians themselves — but this group seems to use Sally Abed as a token Palestinian who furthers their narrative of wanting "peace" in Israeli society. And even looking at their action items, you can see they make a point about emphasizing safety for the *Israeli* citizens above all else, stating that their far right government does nothing to serve the citizens of Israel. They claim it will also bring safety for Gazans, but how? You can advocate for a change in the government, yes, but if the people in Gaza are subject to getting their rights taken away based on the whims of whoever happens to be in power then no amount of "internal" activism in Israeli society will help them. They will always be at the mercy of the people who have a vested interest in erasing the people of Gaza and the West Bank so that they may take over their land.

Please remember, the civil rights movement of the 60s and the BLM Movement of this century were led by and FOR Black people of the United States because they were the ones making the demands for a change in their circumstances. Because at the end of the day, the people who are the most oppressed deserve the right to decide how their future appears and should not be dictated by the oppressor in any way.

This group tries to make a separation between the "Israeli people" and the "Israeli government." Right away, I have to laugh. They act as if the colonization of Palestine is too old for anyone to remember its origins — no. I had family living in Palestine as recently as '67. Maybe *this* generation didn't choose to settle in Palestine, but the previous generation did. And the generations before that. Before 1948, Israel didn't even exist. Hell, before a couple hundred years ago, BORDERS didn't exist. Not to mention, mandatory conscription means that most civilians will have been directly part of the suppressing forces, making them liable for the material effects of colonization. Why are people so resistant to the idea of undoing colonialism and its effects? I cannot think of any other reason than because they have a vested interest in keeping those borders up, in emphasizing nationality because they're one of the groups of people that is benefited from the establishment of a "Jewish State."

So in that, unless you call for an end to the idea of the "Jewish State" in Palestine, then I cannot think of you as a sincere advocate for Palestinian rights — this group especially plays at normalization of a muted version of the status quo rather than actual justice and reparations. The "Israeli advocates" within this group will benefit first and foremost in their own activism — therefore it's hard for me to view them in a positive light.

All activism for Palestinians should center around giving Palestinians reparations, as well as giving reparations to all indigenous victims of colonization. I think this group only tries to muddy the waters to make people forget what they're fighting for. I honestly do not understand why liberation scares you, if it means that no nation-state will have complete and total power over you and your family.

"Free Palestine" is an anti-colonial movement. Such a thing is possible — but you have to try to make it possible. Those against the unending liberation of all people are one of those who have the most to benefit from the continuation of colonization.

Right now, your main concern should be the people of Gaza and the people of the West Bank, and ensuring their safety and longevity in the face on continued erasure. "Peace" is all well and good but who exactly gets to define that? Who gets to benefit most from it? Unless you can unequivocally answer "ALL Palestinians," then you're not an ally — you're only interested in helping yourselves.

Remember — the fact that we even had to fight for our rights is itself an injustice. At the very least, ask the people who are most affected what they want before you listen to Israelis who have a vested interest in keeping the state of Israel alive.

#palestine #gaza

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lyneira · 1 year

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♡ How to earn the lion's love ♡

-> things you can do to make this lazy lion love you to the moon and back

leona x reader (fluff!)

check out malleus' version here! -> ♡ how to gain the dragon's affection ♡

Lull him to sleep!

Yes, I know he can easily fall asleep on his own already, but if you were there with him, he would sleep 10x better! Do anything to relax him. Let him rest his head on your lap, run your fingers through his smooth mane, or maybe even hum a soft tune and he will be at peace.

The first time you have him lay his head on your lap, he'll feel a bit tense. Sure, he's used to others doing things for him, but he's not used to being given such intimate affection. Assure him that it's okay to be this vulnerable. Though, you needn't say anything at all. Tell him by gently rubbing his temples, enveloping him with the warmth of your hands, and feel as he allows himself to let go as the weight of his head falls deeper into your lap. If he wakes up and sees you smiling tenderly down at him, he might immediately pop up off your lap. He'd do this, not because you startled him, but because his heart can't handle such a beautiful sight and he'd need to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

Shower him with compliments!

This guy has a lot of pride and an ego that needs to frequently be fed. Just do it, will ya? Treat him like the king he is because at home, they simply don't treat him right. But no flattering him! He'll get irritated by your insincerity (and he'll probably call you a bootlicker lol 💀) if you do.

Don't allow him to tell you "never mind" or "it doesn't matter" when it comes to talking about his feelings or his opinions!

Even if he says "it's a pain" to try to explain it and will stubbornly attempt to keep his mouth shut, be persistent in wanting to hear what he has to say! If you're far more stubborn than he is, he'll eventually let up. Again, back home, he has often been treated with disregard for being the second son, so do the opposite and go all out with it! Make him feel heard and his appreciation for you will skyrocket. The foreign feeling of opening up to someone may be weird to him, but if that someone is you, then it's a feeling he'd be willing to get used to.

Be appreciative and acknowledge his efforts!

He’ll probably shrug you off, saying that he only did it for his own selfish reasons and whatnot, but stand your ground! Deep down, it warms his heart that you see him, and that his accomplishments and efforts aren't going unnoticed. He might say that he doesn’t need your thanks. Even so, a little appreciation can’t hurt from time to time, can it? And it'll go a long way too. You’ll notice that he’ll be doing those things you've thanked him for more frequently. (He'll act kind enough when he's around you that Ruggie would be like, "Hey, y/n...what the heck have you done to Leona?!" 😨 lol)

Simply play chess with him!

It doesn't matter if you're good or bad at it, play his favorite game with him and he'll enjoy it either way. If you're skillful, his competitive spirit will come out and he'll be having a fun time going against you! No worries if you're bad at it, he's willing to teach you even though he'd be like 🙄 for most of the time. But as you eagerly listen and try to grasp the tactics he teaches you, he'll subtly smile to himself. He's secretly happy you're trying to spend time with him doing what he enjoys.

Also, attempt to make it a routine with him. In his mundane life of attending classes, give him something to look forward to, (which would be getting to play chess with you)

For most of his life, Leona has been overshadowed by his brother and has lost much motivation because of it. So let him know that you see him, that you hear him, that you appreciate him, and maybe he'll come to find one of those rare motivations. That, being you 😘

a/n: now that my posts are finally showing up in the tags, I'll continue this series on this blog instead of @ne-nene-ne ! That'll include any of my other writing as well!

I realize that I might honestly be more biased towards Leona because this one was longer than Malleus' 💀 (I love both boys tho, I swear)

As for the next victim, I'm thinking of doing Azul next! then maybe Idia too 🤔

#nene writes~♡#leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twst fluff

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month

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💌🎀

Bitchy popular reader x Eddie, enemies who fuck and idiots in love, jealousy, angst and fluff, 18+ blog so mdni.

❤️

Eddie is waiting for you in one of the disused classrooms in Hawkins High. He's perched on the desk, long limbs stretched out, an endearing goofy smile on his face as you walk over to him, quietly shutting the door. He gets up and tugs you to him.

"You're lucky I was able to sneak away Munson, I'm sure the girls are getting suspicious, not helping with that hickey you left on my neck" you chastise him.

Eddie looks smug as hell as you say this. "Well I could leave them on your breasts or between your thighs instead" he replies in a husky tone which makes arousal pool in your lower stomach. You tug him to you and kiss him.

He backs you up against the wall and you wrap your legs around his waist, moaning as his fingers dig into your backside and he sucked on a particular sweet spot of yours on your neck.

"If you keep moaning like that princess someone's going to catch us" Eddie murmurs as he kisses along your jaw, soft moans issue from the both of you.

"We wouldn't want that would we?" You reply sweetly and your nails dig into his back causing a groan of pleasure to leave his lips.

In public you and Eddie were enemies, the two of you couldn't stand one another so that was fine. Until the barbs, teasing and heavy tension exploded one night into the most mind-blowing sex.

Since then you couldn't get enough of one another and snuck around in private, away from the prying eyes of Hawkins High gossip chain.

Here the two of you could let your desires run wild, you couldn't stay away from Eddie and he couldn't stay away from you either.

"What the fuck?" the door bursts open and Sasha, a new member to Hellfire is staring at you both, her mouth falls open. She's gazing at the two of you stunned.

"You and you" she points to you and then Eddie and then appears momentarily speechless. You sigh and distentangle yourself from Eddie.

"Uh, Sasha hey" Eddie waves and you smirk amused as Sasha's face goes impossibly redder and redder. You fix your clothes and hair and apply your lipgloss, the one Eddie loves the taste of and wait for the kick off.

She's still spluttering and you grow impatient as you wait for her to say something. You give her a little wave and she swears under her breath.

Fuck could she just say something because you were cold and Eddie's lips were still looking very inviting, all kiss bitten and a little swollen. Involuntarily you shiver and Eddie notices, picks up his jacket and wraps it around you.

The gesture is so unexpected and gentle that it surprises you. Sasha makes a strangled sound in her throat and instead of blowing up at Eddie, she storms out and Eddie sighs.

"I'll handle it princess" he follows her out and you wait for him to come back, eventually you make your way to where they are as Sasha's voice raises.

Sasha frowns, "You know I had a bit of a crush on you, that's why I joined Hellfire. Not that it matters now. You're with her" she huffs. You feel a tiny bolt of jealousy and glare at her.

Ah shit Eddie sighs,. Hewas afraid of this. He knows he has to be as gentle as possible turning her down. "Look, I'm sorry Sasha but I only see you as a friend, that's it. I don't feel that way about you, sorry"

"I get that, I understand that Eddie but why are you even with her in the first place, you could have picked anyone else. She's from the dark side, popular and can be bitchy when she wants to be, like what the hell?" Sasha demands to him.

Eddie can't explain it, he can't explain why he's so drawn to you, how he can't stay away.

" It's just sex. It doesn't mean that much" you feel like you've been punched in the stomach when you hear Eddie say that.

Just sex. That's all you were? You will yourself not to cry and walk past Eddie and Sasha, toss his jacket to him and don't say a word. Eddie must be able to read your expression because his own face falls.

"Sweetheart" he calls after you but you ignore him and get in your car. It's only when you're back at home that the tears finally flow freely.

If you didn't mean anything to him then maybe you should just move on, stop this shit between you and Eddie goes on longer and longer.

The longer it goes on it will only increase your heartbreak when it ends. You can't risk that.

❤️

Sasha spends half the day glaring at you and Eddie, Eddie spends most of it trying to to talk to you.

Eventually you grow tired of his attempts and talk to him. "Alright Munson, if you want sex then just say or not" you snap and he looks taken aback.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He hisses, the tension rises between the two of you, it's so thick that you feel like you can't breathe. Stubbornly you hold his gaze and shrug.

"Nothing, what would be wrong? Of course you want to talk about sex or some shit like that. It's all I am to you and good for, right?" Your friends round the corner and you use this as an excuse to get away from Eddie and those stupidly pretty, big brown eyes.

❤️

There's a party at Jason's tonight you'd much rather be anywhere else right now. Jason is acting like his usual douchebag self, which darkens your mood even further.

Not helping matters is that Eddie's here, doing his usual dealings. Not that it bothers you that he makes money this way, it's to lessen the burden on his uncle which you think is sweet.

No, you're pissed at the fact that he's here at all, you've avoided him all day at school and now you have to avoid him here too. What could you say to him that didn't end with him either laughing at you or outright rejection. It wasn't appealing to you in the slightest.

Hurt by the fact that you're nothing but a fuck buddy to him you distract yourself and flirt with Jackson.

The flirting draws the attention of Eddie who stills and watches you and Jackson like a hawk. You ignore Eddie's silent fuming, even if it does give you a little thrill.

But you mean nothing to him so why does he care?

You sip your beer and nod your head to the music, catch up with your friends until a very irate Eddie catches your eye again and jerks his head to the door. He wants to talk.

Swallowing your nerves, you down your beer and walk past him, he follows you and you can see the jealousy written all over his face.

Once you're far away from the party Eddie rounds on you, "What the fuck was that? Jackson Reilly, are you fucking kidding me?" He sneers at you.

"He's nice to me" you shrug and his cheeks darken in anger. Brown eyes flashing dangerously.

"So I'm an asshole to you huh? You want a small dick fucker like him?" you shake your head and fold your arms across your chest, protecting yourself.

"No you dingus, I want you but you made it very obvious how you feel?" he looks to you confused and you move closer to him, frustrated that he's forgotten what he said.

You glare at Eddie and mimic what he said to Sasha "It's just sex, it doesn't mean that much. So you won't care if I'm with someone else then, no?" Eddie swallows and reaches out to you.

"I didn't mean that. I opened my big mouth to try and salvage the situation and I said dumb shit" you pout still feeling down about the whole thing.

"You still said it. So obviously you must think like that" he softens and he tugs you close to him, you smell the faintest hint of smoke and Eddie's cologne. You're favourite scent.

"No. No I really don't" he admits to you and the way he sounds, the affection for you is clear as day in his voice, it does things to your heart. You feel yourself soften slightly. Just slightly.

"How do I know you're not lying?" you murmur and try to hide the vulnerability in your voice. He shakes his head.

"I would never lie about things like this princess" he says sincerely and you believe him, rest your head on his chest.

"Shall we get out of here?" you nod at his suggestion, just wanting to lose yourself in him for a while.

...

Much later Eddie is fucking you on the hood of Jackson's car, his eyes meet yours and his hands tighten in yours as you both reach an explosive orgasm. It takes your breath away.

Eddie's lips shakily press to your forehead and his hand reaches up to stroke your cheek.

"This does mean something to me sweetheart, more than you know" he kisses you again and it sends your heart racing. As do his words, because you know that this means something to you too.

🫶

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #enemies to lovers #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x popular!reader #eddie munson #stranger things eddie munson

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mariclerc · 1 month

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Dad and daughter moment | pg10

Summary: You decide to leave your boyfriend at home with your little girl and they had a little adventure.

Warning: none. Dedicated to @martaaairwin1994-blog

a/n: this is like a part 2 of "family cuddles" I hope u like it <3

It was a sunny afternoon and you decide to go buy some things for the house and some things that both you and little Lucille need.

“I can go with you bebé?” Pierre asks behind you.

You deny. “Obviously not, silly... Also, who is going to stay with Lulu?”

When you go out alone to shop or do anything you always take Lucille with you, the times you leave her with Pierre have not been so... encouraging, let's put it that way.

One time they almost burned down the kitchen making cookies, or one time he fell asleep and left Lulu on her own. In the same way, you had to give even a vote of confidence to your boyfriend, maybe he is a little bit clueless, but that doesn't mean he does it on purpose.

“It's okay honey, I'll take care of her, I promise!” He says and you give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good boy!” you giggle and you head out of the room.

“Mama!” Lucille says hugging you.

“My little flower! You're going to stay with papa today, is that right?” you said while giving her a little kiss on her cheek. “He's going to take good care of you today!”

She nods happily and smiled. “Okay mama!”

***

“Well little princess, what do you want to do today with papa?” Pierre asks Lulu. “We can do what you like.”

“Paints papa!” She says between giggles.

“Oh, so you want to paint with papa? Let's get to it then!” He says as he carries her in his arms and goes to look for the materials for their colorful adventure in one of the closets.

After a while they had paints, brushes and canvases for their painting.

“Bright! Bright!” says Lucille jumping while pointing at the bright pink color.

Pierre chuckles. “Do you like bright pink? What do you plan to paint today mon petit artiste?” He says while smiling. (my little artist.)

She starts making strokes on the canvas. “Draw!” smiled.

After a while, what started with simple strokes on the canvas continued with clothes and hands stained with paint. But they didn't care because they were both laughing out loud and having lots of fun, it was a nice moment between father and daughter that they will both always remember.

They are not aware of your arrival at the house, you enter the hallway, laden with shopping bags. You kick the door shut with your foot and head towards the living room, a wry smile on your face.

In the living room, chaos reigns... Paint splatters adorn the coffee table, the floor, and most alarmingly, the pristine white wall, in the center of it all, sits Pierre his face a canvas of vibrant colors, a look of pure joy on it. Lucille sits next to him, similarly decorated and equally delighted.

You take a moment to take in the scene, a rollercoaster of emotions flitting across your face - exasperation, amusement, and a touch of awe.

Feigning exasperation. “Oh my god Pierre, what have you done?”

Pierre looks up, a sheepish grin spreading across his paint-streaked face. Lucille lets out a gleeful squeal.

“Surprise amour! We were... expressing ourselves artistically.” He says with his voice thick with paint.

You walk towards them, placing the bags down. “Looks more like a warzone to me.”

Lucille reaches out for you, her tiny hand covered in a rainbow of colors.

“Papa! Paint!” Lucille giggles.

“Woah there, little Picasso. Let's get you cleaned up before mommy has a meltdown, alright?” you scoop her up.

Pierre chuckles, wiping a hand (mostly clean) across his forehead.

“Meltdown? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think love?”

”But look around you, Mr. artsy pants. This is gonna take some scrubbing!” You say raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, it was her idea! I was just, uh, facilitating her artistic vision, you know, that helps with kids creativity.” He stands up.

“Ah yes, the renowned Gasly School of Modern Toddler Art. I should've known.” You say sarcastically.

Despite your teasing words, there's a warmth in your voice. You glance at Lucille, who's now giggling uncontrollably.

“Alright, alright. I admit, it does look like you two had a lot of fun.” You say with a soft voice.

“We always do when you're not around to boss us around.” He says as he puts his arm around you.

“Hey! I'm not a boss, I just keep things from descending into complete chaos you know?” you playfully swat his arm.

“Seems like you failed today, love.” he smiles.

“Oh, shut up you colourful boy.” you laugh a little.

You lean in and kiss Pierre, a hint of paint transferring to your lips. He pulls away, grinning.

“So, how about we clean up this little art project and order some takeout? Celebrate our success in the realm of abstract expressionism?” He says in a soft voice.

”Sounds like a plan. Just promise me finger paints are off-limits next time, alright?” You smile at his proposal.

“No promises, but I'll try my best chérie.” He hold his hands up in mock surrender.

Lucille lets out another gurgle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You can't help but laugh, knowing that with these two around, a little chaos is always guaranteed in your life.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #pierre gasly #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x reader #dad!pierregasly #pierre x reader

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enderfenderdragon · 1 month

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how would He react?

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how would Colby Brock react if you played a prank on him while you were 'alone' in a haunted mansion's ball room.

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warnings!: Colby Brock x reader, Mostly gender-neutral reader, i little spicy, kind of fluffy, no use of "y/n", bad grammar.

not proof read!

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if you don't like what you read in the warnings. please don't read. scroll away or even ignore me and this post. please don't leave a comment if it won't be nice or anything. if you do decide to leave a comment. i will delete the comment and block you, and your blog.

thank you :D

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you thought it was a good idea for you to play a prank on your boyfriend - Colby Brock. while you were exploring a haunted mansion.

you, Sam, Colby, Celina and kris were going to have to slit up for a while. one of Sam and Colby's 'investigation tactics' or whatever this was.

luckily, you and Colby was partnered up for this because you were supposed to investigate a big section of the mansion - the ball room.

it was about two minutes in when you thought this was going to be your moment to prank him.

so you walk up to Colby and cups his cheeks from behind. you get him to lean backwards somehow and you put your lips next to his left ear. you then rip out the most sinful moan you've ever made, right into his ear.

Colby jumps forwards. He whips around at stares at you with worry and confusion all over his face. part of this prank was that you had to act like nothing happened while your partner withered away in their dirty mind. You stared back at him and smiled sweetly, as if nothing happened.

"there was a mozzie on your left shoulder, i was getting it off for you" you say sweetly, innocently and nervously.

"oh was there?" Colby says back, stalking towards you.

you back away from him until you cant anymore. your back bumps the wall of the ball room. you look back, and looked so pale someone would think you've seen a ghost.

Colby's hands block you way out. trapping you against the freezing, ruff bricks that made up the wall of the ball room.

"C-Colby, we have to i-investigate" you stutter, obviously nervous and scared.

"tsk, tsk, tsk.... that can wait" he all most growls.

"wha-" you don't even finish a word when his lips come crashing down on yours, sucking the life and breath out of you.

"C-Colby!" you shout as Colby's lips trail down your neck. Planting wet kisses on the sensitive skin He oh so loved.

the only sounds heard from the ball room was the rem-pod and wet kisses.

"Colby, the rem pod is going off...." you trail off. Staring at the rem-pod glowing green.

Colby thankfully turns his head around and stares at the rem-pod.

"mhm, it seems so" Colby says lowly. making you squeeze your legs together.

Colby turns his head towards you and stares you down.

"so." He starts. you turn your head just a smidge. your eyes never leaving his own, blue eyes.

"why did you do that baby?" he says lowly, tilting his head so little you would have never noticed, if you weren't staring him down.

you gulp and squeak out "d-do what?"

Colby chuckles and shakes his head, looking down.

"you moaned in my ear..... do you have any idea how hard it is to hold back yourself when your partner wears your clothes?" he mentions to your 'clothes'. also his favourite hoodie and pants.

"hey you have good taste and.... they're comfy" you mumble, looking down at your shoes.

Colby's hand gently cups your chin and tilts it up so you lock eyes with him.

"what can i say? i have good taste in a lot of things...." he trails off, looking you up and down once biting his lip to stop him from finishing his sentence.

--------

lets just say you couldn't walk or stand after that night you had with him.

----------------

requests open.

this wasn't a request, it was just an idea that i decided to write last minute.

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itsmealaiah · 3 months

Note

Hiii! Can i pls request a Eminem x reader smut where reader is his younger girlfriend(still legal) and she gets alot of hate online so Eminem showers her with love and he defends her online?🩷

yes ❤️❤️

who gives a shit?

tags/ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, author not proofreading shit, rushed, comfort, p0rn with plot, dirty talk, just filth, use of the word wh0re.

MDNI ⚠️

do not repost anywhere else, copy, translate, claim as your own, or use anywhere besides this blog.

pairing: em x afab

Your POV:

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing violently against the bedside table. Rolling over, I squint at the screen, still half-asleep. It's a message from marsh, my boyfriend. "Baby girl, wake up." The words are typed in all lowercase, his signature texting style. I smile, reaching over to grab the phone and swipe my finger across the screen. "Hey, sexy. What's up?"

He replies immediately, "Just wanted to make sure you were awake. You know how much I hate it when you stay out late." There's a playfulness in his tone, but there's a hint of worry there too. I can feel the warmth spread across my chest as I smile, thinking about how protective he is.

"I'm awake now, don't worry," I assure him, throwing off the sheets and stretching. I yawn, the motion sending a pleasant ache through my body. "What are you up to today?"

There's a brief pause before he responds. "I'm just chilling at home, gonna work on some new music." He always seems so focused when he's in this mood, but I know he's just as excited about it as I am. "Wanna come over?"

I bite my bottom lip, considering his offer. Being with Em is always better than being apart, but I know what it's like to have him consumed by his work. "Sure, but I can't promise I'll be much company. You know how I am when you're in the zone."

There's another pause, longer this time. "It's okay, baby. Just come over. I'd rather have you here, even if you're just sleeping or reading or whatever." His words make me feel so loved and wanted, it's impossible not to melt a little. "I'll make breakfast, okay?"

Smiling to myself, I gather my things and make my way over to his house. The walk is short, but it never fails to make my heart race a little, thinking about how much he means to me. I knock on his door, and a few seconds later, it swings open. Em stands there, bare-chested and wearing a pair of worn-in denim shorts, his hair messy and his eyes sleepy. He looks so damn sexy.

"Hey," he says, pulling me into a tight hug. I inhale the familiar scent of his skin, musk and sweat and something else that's uniquely him. "I missed you." He kisses me gently before leading me inside. The air in his apartment is warm and comfortable, and there's a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. "I made you some pancakes."

"That sounds amazing," I say, following him into the kitchen. He's already pulled out a chair for me at the small breakfast bar and set a plate of pancakes, along with a cup of coffee, in front of me. "You're the best."

he chuckles, sitting down next to me.

"You really are something else, you know that?" he says, taking a bite of his own pancake. "You're beautiful, and talented, and you put up with all my shit. I don't know what I'd do without you." He leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"I'm just being honest," I tell him, laughing. "You're a little crazy, but I love you."

He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I know I am. But it's okay, because you're crazy too. And it works, you know?" He takes another bite of his pancake, and I watch as he chews, his jaw working gracefully. There's a certain rhythm to the way he moves, a fluidity that I find endlessly captivating. "So, what do you want to do today?"

I consider the question, taking a sip of my coffee. "I don't know, actually. What do you want to do?"

He shrugs. "I've got a few ideas, but I'd rather spend the day with you. We could go for a walk, maybe find a quiet spot and just talk or read or something. Or we could just stay in, watch a movie or make out all day." His voice drops low on the last word, and I feel a shiver run down my spine.

"Sounds perfect," I say, reaching over to take his hand. "I could really use some time to just be with you, you know? We never seem to have enough of that these days." He squeezes my hand gently, his touch sending a rush of warmth through my body.

We finish our breakfast, and I help him clean up the dishes. As we're rinsing the plates, I glance up at him, noticing the way his muscles move as he scrubs the sponge across the surface. He's so focused on what he's doing, and yet he's still so graceful. I can't help but wonder what it would be like to watch him pleasure me, the way his body moves in perfect rhythm, the way he'd look at me with those intense eyes. The thought makes me shiver with anticipation.

"You okay?" he asks, noticing the look on my face. "You're acting a little…intense there."

I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just…thinking about something." I smile up at him, trying to be nonchalant. "I was just wondering what it would be like if we found some time to be alone later, you know?"

His eyes widen, and a slow smile spreads across his face. "Oh really?" he says, his voice low and husky. "And what did you have in mind?"

I glance down at the floor, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Well, I was thinking…maybe we could find a quiet spot, just the two of us, and you could show me what you're really like in bed." My voice is barely above a whisper, but there's a heat to it that I can't contain. "I mean, I know we've been together a while, but…I feel like there's so much more we could explore together. Don't you ever want to try something new?"

He leans in, his face close to mine. His breath fans across my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh, baby," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I'd love to explore all the things you're thinking about with you. I've been wanting this for so long." His hand finds its way to my hip, gently squeezing. "But we should probably find a place where we can be a little more comfortable. You know, where we won't be interrupted."

I nod, unable to speak past the sudden tightness in my throat. I can feel the anticipation building inside me, a mixture of desire and nervousness that seems to pool low in my belly. I know he's going to make me feel amazing, and I can't wait to see what he has in store for us.

He takes my hand, leading me upstairs to our bedroom. The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. He turns to face me, taking in my expression, and then leans in, pressing his lips against mine. His tongue darts out, tentatively exploring my mouth, and I moan into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands move down my back, gripping my ass, pulling me closer.

He breaks the kiss, stepping back just enough to strip off his shirt. It falls to the floor, revealing his sculpted chest, dusting of fine hair leading down to his waistband. Without another word, he unbuckles his belt, lets his pants slide down his hips, and steps out of them. He's completely naked now, and the sight of him takes my breath away. His erection is impressive, already half-hard, and I can't help but wonder what it would feel like buried deep inside me.

He climbs onto the bed, crawling over to where I sit on the edge, my heart racing. He reaches down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my panties, and pulls them off in one swift motion. I'm left completely bare before him, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. He looks at me for a long moment, taking in my exposed body, before moving forward, pressing his lips against my neck. His hands find their way to my breasts, cupping them, squeezing gently.

I arch my back into his touch, moaning softly. "Please," I whisper, feeling the need for him growing stronger with every passing second. He moves his lips down my body, kissing and nipping at my breasts, sucking one hard before moving to the other. His hand slides between my legs, finding my aching center, and I gasp as he touches me. It feels so good to be touched like this, so intimately and thoroughly.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, and then slowly slides a finger inside me. I'm so wet, it feels like I've been waiting for this for hours. He begins to move his finger in and out, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure through my body. I can feel myself growing wetter, more needy with each passing second. His free hand finds its way to my clit, circling it gently before moving in to press against it, and I cry out, arching my back off the bed.

He smiles, his eyes never leaving mine. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "So wet and ready for me." He pulls his finger out of me long enough to reach down and position his erection at my entrance. There's a moment of breathless anticipation as he pushes inside, filling me completely. It feels so good, so right. I gasp as he sinks deeper, stretching me in a way that makes me ache for more.

His hands move up to my shoulders, gently holding me down onto the bed as he begins to thrust into me. Each thrust is powerful and deliberate, driving him deeper inside me with each passing second. I can feel every inch of him as he moves against me, and the sensation is overwhelming. My nails dig into his shoulders, leaving tiny trails of blood as I struggle to keep myself from coming apart beneath him.

He leans down, capturing one of my nipples between his lips, sucking hard as he thrusts into me. The combination of pain and pleasure is almost too much to bear, and I can feel myself beginning to lose control. My hips meet his each time he drives into me, my body begging for more. His free hand moves between us, finding my clit once again, circling and teasing until I'm on the brink of orgasm.

With a final, powerful thrust, he pushes deep inside me, his body tensing as he releases himself against my flesh. I feel him grow still for a moment, and then he begins to move again, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he regains his strength. His hips meet mine in perfect rhythm, and I can feel the tension building inside me once again.

I reach up, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as my orgasm washes over me in a wave of intense pleasure. My body arches off the bed, my cries of release muffled against his shoulder. He continues to move inside me, his thrusts growing deeper and harder as he finds his own release.

He's powerful and dominant, but there's also a gentleness to him that I hadn't expected. The way he kisses and caresses me, the way he listens to my gasps and moans, makes me feel cherished and desired. I'm no longer aware of the rest of the world as we move together, lost in this intimate dance.

Time seems to stand still as we make love, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. I can feel the warmth of his skin against mine, the rhythm of his heartbeat matching the pace of our lovemaking. It's as if we've known each other for years, as if we were meant to be together like this.

When he finally collapses on top of me, spent and satisfied, I'm left feeling both fulfilled and completely and utterly content. He rolls to the side, pulling me into his embrace, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It's soothing, comforting, and I realize that this is what I've been missing. Not just sex, but this connection, this intimacy.

As I drift off to sleep, I can't help but wonder if this is what love feels like. I mean, we just met, and it was sort of weird that he knew my name, but…the way he touched me, the way he made me feel so wanted and desired…it's like nothing I've ever experienced before.

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. Groggily, I roll over and grab it, glancing at the screen to see that it's three in the morning. Great. Who could possibly be texting me at this hour? I unlock the phone and scroll through my messages, feeling a knot form in my stomach as I see a string of nasty comments from my "friends" online.

They're all talking about how I must be some sort of whore, how I should be ashamed of myself, and how everyone knows who I am now. The words sting, but somehow they feel hollow compared to the warmth that still lingers in my body from our lovemaking. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to push away the hurt and focus on the feeling of being loved and wanted for who I am, rather than what people think they know about me.

I roll back over and nestle myself against the solid wall of his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. He stirs, one hand moving to cradle my head as he kisses the top of my head. "What's wrong baby?" he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment by sharing the ugliness of the outside world with him. But I can't help but wonder if he's ever experienced anything like this before. "People are being really mean online," I whisper. "They don't know what they're talking about, but it still hurts."

He sits up slowly, pulling me onto his lap so that I'm straddling him. His strong arms wrap around me, holding me tightly against his chest. "It's going to be okay," he whispers, kissing the top of my head. "They're just jealous, that's all. They don't know what they're missing." His words are soothing, and I feel a little of the tension drain from my body.

He leans back against the headboard, cradling me in his arms, and I gaze up at him. His eyes are intense, but there's also a hint of sadness there. "Believe me when I say that none of that matters, y/n. You are perfect just the way you are. And as long as you're with me, you'll never have to worry about what anyone else thinks." His words make my heart ache, and I can't help but wonder if he truly means them.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "I wish I could believe that," I whisper.

He strokes my cheek with his thumb, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "You can believe it," he says firmly. "Because it's true. You are everything to me, and no one can take that away." His words are like a balm, easing the ache in my chest.

I nestle closer to him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. Despite the cruelty of the outside world, in this moment, everything feels right. I can't help but wonder how long this will last, and if the weight of the world will eventually crush us. But for now, I'm going to hold onto this feeling, this sense of being loved and wanted for who I am, and enjoy every second of it.

#eminem x y/n #eminem imagines #eminem x reader #eminem #slim shady #marshall mathers #itsmealaiah #eminem x you

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

Text

In Need of Love

Pairing: Kane x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Use of n-word. PIV, oral (fem receiving) cursing, hella dirty talk, Daddy kink, teasing, all consensual. Established relationship. Reader is pregnant. Mentions of abortion and non-inclusive language. No spoilers for the show.

Summary: A wonderful ask from @luvvforanimatedmen. What would happen if you confessed you were pregnant to Kane?

Word Count: 3,382k

A/N: So sorry this took forever, love! My brain don't be braining sometimes! Thanks for the ask and the support. Whew. Something about that man just gets me going. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @dayjlovesromance @flydotty @eggnox @blackerthings @hopelessdisasterr @sevikasblackgf @wide-nose-and-wonderful @monaeesstuff @notapradagurl7 @lovedlover @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @slippinninque @henneseyhoe @amyhennessyhouse @miyuhpapayuh @theyscreamsannii

You were not the type to pace, but here you were pacing the living room. Kane said he would be home soon and he rarely broke a promise. If he did, he always fixed it with his dick anyway. If only that man knew…

He thought he could solve all of your problems with a roll in the sheets. Truthfully, you started shit on purpose just for him to give you that look. That warning look. The look that told you that you had gone too far now and he would have to set you right.

You shivered as you paced. This was exactly how ya’ll ended up in this situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame him entirely. With everything going on, you didn’t think to pay attention to your period. The stress of the last few weeks had taken its toll on the both of you.

You barely had chances to take some of that stress off of Kane. Quick rub and tucks, eating you out here, bustin’ one inside you there. When you confirmed earlier this morning with a test, you weren’t sure how to feel.

You stared at that damn test for possibly hours, as you worked through a gamut of emotions. Were you happy? Maybe? The good Lord knew that you and Kane didn’t have the best childhoods. Which Black people did these days?

With everything going on involving the business, this wasn’t the best time to bring a child into this world. But the thought of getting rid of it without even telling Kane…you somehow couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Kane was always making decisions without you, but you knew he wouldn’t forgive you if you took this one out of his hands.

You pictured having a son that looked just like his ass. And would probably get in just as much trouble. You feared for the type of world he’d be living in. If he would even see his twenty-first birthday. Hell, if Kane would live to see it too.

Where the fuck was he?

Kane’s slow steps approached the door. The turn of the lock finally halted your steps, turning to face the front door.

“Hey, little mama,” he said.

If only he knew… Nerves bubbled in your stomach. A stomach now carrying a little boy or girl. Or was it too soon to think that?

As Kane closed the door behind him, saying goodbye to his boys, your hands came around to hug your middle. There were too many mixed emotions about this and you were freaking the fuck out!

Kane shuffled over to you and gave you a funny look. “What you standing in the middle of the floor for? Miss me that much?” He asked. He smirked and kissed your cheek.

“I have something to tell you,” you said. You were too nervous to reach for more kisses like you usually did when he came home and you weren’t pissed about something. You swore. Kane was the only one who both raised your blood pressure and calmed it down.

“Got anything to do with you leaving the house without someone to look after you?” He asked.

“Who fuckin’ snitched?” You were gonna tear they little asses up. You couldn’t do shit without someone reporting it back to Kane. Like you were the fuckin’ child around here.

Kane only smiled. He kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand, pulling you to come sit with him on the recliner. He liked making you sit on his lap, but you needed to see his face. Needed to gauge his reaction to the news. Were you hoping that he’d be happy? Sad? Pissed? If he were pissed, you’d kick his ass. It takes two to make a fuckin’ baby.

“You know that they work for me, right?” He asked.

You pulled yourself away from him. It was too tempting to sit on his lap and soak up some of his strength. Too tempting to get lost in the feel of his body.

“I can leave my house if I want to, Kane. Alone,” you said.

He fluffled out the black sweatshirt he wore. His legs were spread wide and you forcefully dragged your eyes away from his crotch. Again, this was how you ended up in this situation.

“We already talked about that. There’s too much going on without me havin’ to worry about you being safe,” Kane said.

“I’ll be fine,” you said, dismissing him. You were a homebody on your best day. You left the house to go to work, maybe some partying with friends, but you were always right back in bed. People hardly knew Kane had a lady and that’s how he liked to keep it.

“Baby–”

You waved your hand. “Kane, stop,” you said.

“Come on, how would I feel if I let something happen to you?”

“Shut up, Kane. Listen–”

“The fuck is wrong now? What’s with the attitude?” Kane asked. He leaned back in his seat and tilted his head. He opened his mouth to continue off on some tangent about keeping you safe, no doubt.

“I’m tryin’ to tell yo’ stupid ass that I’m pregnant!” You stomped your foot. Shit. This wasn’t how you pictured telling him. Nothing was ever easy with this nigga. He was the definition of an immovable force. He moved when he wanted to move. He spoke when he wanted to speak. And once he had an idea in his head…

You rubbed your forehead. An ache pulsed behind your right eye. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face now. You hadn’t intended to drop the bomb quite like that. Anyone would be shocked, angry, surprised–

Kane’s lips crashed into yours. You made an oomph sound as he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you closer. He was biting and nibbling on your bottom lip until you opened up for him. His tongue delved inside. Kissing you passionately, desperately.

His hands traveled from your waist to your face. His rough fingers dragged along your skin, bare from your tank top, and your sweatpants. His massive hands squeezed your cheeks as he kissed you roughly.

“Kane!” You somehow whispered between you.

He opened his eyes and the love pouring out of him was a tangible thing. It wrapped around you like the softest, warmest blanket on the coldest night. “I’m gon’ be a daddy?”

You bit your lip. Your face was still cradled in his hands. There was only a few inches of space between you. You nodded and his grin was infectious.

“You makin’ me a daddy?” He leaned back to look at your tummy. As if he could already see life growing there. It was no bigger than a peanut at this time, but from the look on his face, you were already the size of a mack truck.

Kane slowly got to his knees. “Kane…”

He lifted your tank top and kissed your belly. Tears sprung to your eyes. You looked away from the tender look on his face. ‘Soft’ was never uttered in the same sentence as Kane. And yet, that’s how he looked. Completely smitten with the idea of his baby.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said.

“God…” Now you were really crying. Tears sprung from your eyes, the little traitorous bastards. You were expecting a lot of things. You had plenty of time today to think about his reactions. Happy was in there sure, but you never imagined this.

“Don’t cry, little mama,” Kane whispered. He got back to his feet slowly. He brought your hands to his lips and kissed each of your knuckles. He pulled you closer, kissing both of your cheeks. He kissed both of your eyelids. “Mother to my child.”

When he said it, it sounded magical. Whimsical. It sounded like you were an ordinary couple somewhere, where race didn’t matter, and you could be excited about raising a child together. No strings attached.

“So…you’re not mad?” You asked slowly. It was right before your eyes, but you had a hard time trusting it. Believing it. You needed more confirmation.

“Mad? This is the best news you could have ever given me.” His raspy voice was the balm you needed on your nerves. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around him. He hugged you back, holding on for dear life, and rocked you back and forth.

He leaned back so he could kiss you again. His soft lips ignited something beneath your skin. His hands roamed your body once more as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to grab you.

Finally, his big hand came to rest on your belly. “My baby’s in there?” He asked. His quiet question was in danger of making you melt.

“Yup,” you said with a nod. “Your child is in there.” You’d been feeling gross and heavy the past few weeks. You chalked it up to stress. The nausea was just something bad you ate.

When you thought about it, you couldn’t remember your last period. You tried counting and then it dawned on you. Stupid. You went to the store without one of his little worker niggas following you around like a lost puppy. Some things women needed to do on their own.

Kane grinned but then it turned sinister right before your eyes. “What you lookin’ at me like that for?”

“Come on,” he said. He grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the house. He marched towards your bedroom, forcing you to keep up with his long ass strides.

“Kane!” A laugh escaped you. It was hard keeping up with Kane sometimes. He was so damn unpredictable. To everyone else, he was some stone cold OG who still believed in rules and respect. He didn’t tolerate bullshit. Didn’t have time for it. With you, he was still an asshole, but at least he was a considerate one.

“I want some twins,” he said. He stopped and pulled off his sweatshirt and t-shirt in one go. Your tank went next.

You laughed at his enthusiasm. “Um, I’m pretty sure you know that’s not how it works,” you said.

His eyes were fixated on your chest. He palmed your breasts, lifting them up, and testing their weight. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You hissed. “Careful, they a little sensitive today,” you said.

“Yeah?” He licked his lips and watched you as his lips wrapped around your left nipple. Your back bowed as you moaned. The shits were sensitive as hell. His tongue flitted over your nipple. It somehow felt good? Like he was soothing the ache with his tongue. Damn him. Everything he did felt good.

His fingers deftly worked on your sweatpants, releasing the tie, and shoving your pants down to your ankles. He walked you backwards, tripping over the fabric. “Kane!” You laughed and slapped at his shoulders.

“You right. You carrying precious cargo now,” he said around your nipple.

“Corny ass,” you said.

He chuckled as he bent down a bit to help disentangle your legs from your sweats. When you were completely naked, he pushed you down onto the bed. You groaned. You just washed these sheets.

“I’ll wash it,” he said when you told him.

“Yeah, aiight,” you said.

He grinned because he knew damn well that you were the one who was going to wash the sheets. You wouldn’t trust that mu’fucka at the laundromat to save his life. If he could point to where the soap went, your name was Susie.

Kane stood over you. He rubbed your thighs, your knees, your calves, until spreading you open. Of course you were already wet for him. He looked at your glistening folds with a renewed hunger.

“My baby,” he whispered. He climbed onto the bed and made you scoot up. Then, he settled in between your legs and licked your pussy.

“Kane!” You screamed.

“Tasting so damn good. Who said you could?” He asked. He trapped your legs in the crook of his arms and spread you wider.

Fuck, your pussy ached while he returned to eating you out. He swirled his tongue lazily around your clit. Fresh arousal gushed out of you. Kane hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers to your entrance and dipping a finger inside.

You bit your lip and moaned. A second finger entered you and you shivered. All the while, his tongue did devilish things to your pussy. With every swipe, he was pulling the orgasm out of you. The pace of his fingers increased. “Shit, shit, shit,” you moaned.

“Go on and give it up, little mama,” he said.

Almost on command, your orgasm rocked you to the core. It was as if you had been tossed in the middle of the ocean during a storm. You didn’t know which way was up or down. You could only let it roll over you and pray for the best. Kane bit the inside of your thigh.

“I can’t wait today,” he said. He climbed up your body, leaving wet kisses all over your skin. He left a trail of your arousal until he was lined up with you. He hadn’t even taken off his shorts yet.

He merely pushed them down far enough to free himself. No teasing. No preamble. He just dragged the tip of his dick along your slit, coating himself. Then he shoved inside on one hard push.

“Fuck!” You managed to breathe around the size of him. All these years together, you were still amazed by his size. That all the sex you had didn’t completely mold you around him by now.

Kane dropped his weight on you, sliding his rock hard body against your soft one. He dropped to his elbows to support his weight. He looked into your eyes while he began to rock himself. Sliding in and out on a gentle glide.

You gasped for air as you felt every solid inch of his dick. Every vein rubbed against your fluttering walls. The head of his dick searched inside of you and you hoped it never found whatever it sought. You didn’t want this moment to end.

Kane kissed your neck as he moved his hands to capture yours. Your fingers intertwined as he held you close.

“You havin’ my baby,” he said. The grin returned. You stared into his beautiful brown eyes. Once more, tears sprang to your eyes. You hoped that this wasn’t going to be a side effect of having a kid. You were not a person who cried at the drop of a hat.

You stared at each other. Interspersed with kisses against your neck and cheek, Kane’s lips lingered on yours.

“You’re going to be so beautiful carryin’ my child,” he said.

You laughed. “You always call me beautiful.” You matched his soft tone. There was nothing but the two of you there. Encased in your own bubble, as close as two people could possibly be. He couldn’t get any closer, but he was for sure trying it as he seemed to go deeper with every stroke.

“I mean that shit. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I gotta catch myself from cheesin’ all day,” he said.

You grinned and kissed him. You just loved the way his lips fit against yours. The way he slid easily within you. Literally made for each other. Forever. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” Kane said.

“Shit,” you moaned as an orgasm snuck up on you. It rose like a lone wave on a sandy shore, washing over you and taking you with it. The pleasure was insane. Unnameable. Still, Kane kept fucking you. Moving by some unseen force to stay buried inside of you.

He dropped his head and groaned. Your pussy filled with his warm cum, mixing with your arousal and creating a giant mess beneath you.

He kept moving. As if he wasn’t the one in control anymore. As if neither one of you were. You rose to meet his thrusts. You shared a moan as he seemed to sink deeper, hitting your G-spot and causing you to moan louder.

“Music to my fuckin’ ears,” he whispered in your ear.

He targeted that spot, hitting it over and over. “Can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby. So fuckin’ gorgeous. I don’t know how I’ma keep my hands off of ya,” he said.

Your thighs burned from shaking so badly. The spot he hit was buried so deep inside of you, you half wondered if he truly was trying to give you twins.

“Mhm, glowing and shit with yo pretty ass,” he whispered in your ear.

Your head flopped to the side. This was too much. Entirely too much. Another orgasm arose, stealing the remainder of your breath. Your eyes turned watery toward the ceiling. You shook as Kane talked you through it.

“That’s it. Felt every bit of that one. Doin’ so good for me.” The rasp of his voice was like a vice grip around your heart.

He leaned up, still pumping inside of you. He let go of one of your hands to wrap it around your throat and push your head up. Your hand gripped his wrist.

“This gon’ be one of the last times I get to do this,” he said.

“Nuh-uh,” you moaned, shaking your head. “You can choke me, Daddy.”

You hissed as he slipped and shoved in deeper with a hard thrust. ‘Daddy’ took on an entirely new meaning now. He was going to be a daddy. A daddy to a life you created together in love.

“Careful, girl. I almost nutted again,” he reprimanded you.

You laughed. “That’s what I want…Daddy,” you moaned.

Kane lifted an eyebrow at you. He still had your head tilted back so that was really all you saw before his thrusts sped up. You squeezed his other hand as he fucked into you harder and harder.

The bed squeaked and groaned under your combined weight. Your pussy squelched as he unloaded inside of you. Like the thickest mac n’ cheese noises on Thanksgiving. He groaned as he came.

A man possessed, he continued to pound your pussy. “One more, baby. One more,” he moaned as he continued to fuck you.

“I c-c-can’t…” You whined. His hand moved down to roughly grab your titty and suckle it into his mouth. Your hand flew to his head, trying to push him off. Couldn’t he see that he was breaking you in half?

The mix of sweet and sinful was too much for you to bear. Too much to contain in your body. It needed to be let out, away from you, no more. But your jaw was wired shut as you only continued to moan and rub his head.

Your hand gripped the back of his neck as you came one more time, shaking with the effort. It was like you were being ripped apart from the inside out. That some great beast had split you open, scooped you out, and tossed the rest. You screamed with pleasure too big for you. Too much.

You screamed for anyone to hear you. For his boys outside, the neighborhood, and the next one over. Kane rested his sweaty head against your chest as you twitched on the way down. He slipped out of you and you groaned from the loss of him. Cum slipped out after him. Well, it wasn’t like you could get pregnant twice.

He snuggled up next to you, dropping a leg over yours. He tucked you into his side, panting through kisses to your temple, cheek, lips.

“My baby,” he said. You supposed that took on new meaning as well.

You were both a sweaty and gross mess and you loved it. You snuggled into him and played with his stubble.

“You gon’ be a daddy,” you said. You marveled at it. You allowed yourself to be happy about it. At a little version of him running around the house like a damn terror. Girl or boy, you just knew the mu’fucka was gonna come out like him.

“You gon’ be a mama,” he said and kissed you.

Yeah, you were gonna be a mama. Now that was a scary ass thought.

There's more Kane to love! The Secret Kane Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Kane Files #Kane x Black!reader #Kane x Black reader #Kane x Fem!reader #Kane x Fem reader #Kane x plus size reader #Kane x reader #Kane x you #x Black reader #Snowfall fanfic #Snowfall fan fic #Snowfall fanfiction #Snowfall fan fiction #Snowfall smut

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justlikemebutsixfootthree · 1 year

Text

direction -

pairing: matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else?

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before.

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent.

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth.

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body.

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away.

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.”

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.”

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist.

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...”

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs.

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress.

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

857 notes · View notes

kangaracha · 16 days

Note

Felix + focus

(this is actually written by @keepswingin, who gained access to my blog for five minutes and decided she wanted my prompts list)

---

It's bad luck, and you know it's bad luck, but you can't stop yourself from sneaking across the hall as soon as nobody is looking. You close the door as quietly as possible behind you and turn around, fully prepared to tease your husband to be, only to find him standing before the mirror, shakily adjusting his tie.

Felix is muttering to himself as he struggles with keeping his hands steady, smoothing them down the sides of his pants, once, twice, three times, and then he catches your eye in the mirror, and he freezes, and something about it reminds you of a deer caught between bright headlights.

"Sorry," you giggle, approaching him with your heart thumping wildly in your chest because this is actually happening, and he's going to be what you wake up next to every morning, and those hands will help you cook dinner and those eyes will look at you and call you beautiful and - and you're getting carried away. "I couldn't wait."

You reach out for his hand as soon as you're close enough, twining your fingers together. You can still feel him shake despite it, and the small smile he gives you is wobbly at the corners, and his eyes are crinkled in that anxious way that he claims he doesn't do, and you tug him closer, reaching your other hand up to curl around his cheek.

"Hey," you whisper, his eyes catching yours. "You're okay. Everything's okay. Focus. Focus on me." You press your forehead against his and hear his chest stutter with a long exhale. "I'm right here."

"I'm sorry," he says as soon as he's able to, blinking fast. Leave it to him to apologize over things that don't require one. "I was just - my mom left to go find something, and I was standing here alone and I just got to thinking and then I - " Another breath, this one calmer than the last. "I just don't want to mess anything up. On our day."

"You could never ruin our day," you tell him, and then your smile grows because you can't help yourself and he knows how you are. "Even if you did, I'd still treasure it all the same."

It does work in dragging a laugh out of him, genuine and carefree. "You're going to make me worry all over again," he throws back gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're beautiful, by the way."

"Can you still act surprised when you see me walk out? My mom already threatened me," you ask, and then his lips pull into a smile you'll never forget as he moves closer, lips brushing lightly against your own.

"My mom threated me too," he admits quietly, and then he's kissing you, and you can't help but wonder how any of this could ever be bad luck when it's the luckiest you've ever felt.

#stray kids #roo writes #skz #felix #lee felix #yongbok #lee yongbok #lee felix yongbok #felix imagines #felix drabbles #felix drabble #reader x felix #felix imagine #felix x reader #felix reaction #felix reactions #lee felix imagine #lee felix reactions #lee felix imagines #lee felix x reader #usually i have fun comments to leave but i know nothing about this fic #other than that keeps got into my inbox #said 'oh you only have like 15 prompts in here that's doable'#and then said 'it's so much easier to pick them when you don't have 150' and #wrote mine and not any of her own 150 #anyway zom mom this is what i was gonna throw a rock at her about the other day #cause i wanted head above water edited and this is what she was doing instead #completely arbitrary tasks in my inbox #and to the casual readers who don't know us #i stg i can write my own shit this is just

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 9 months

Note

I might be in love with your blog.. it’s literally been making my days so much better!

But hear me out this request I’ve had for literally ever and I think you could do it perfectly! So a ginger ready constantly being called a Weasley even tho they aren’t and this obviously catches the twins attention so they kinda start spending time with the reader. And then maybe George falling in love and thinking about Reader becoming an actual Weasley :]]] (also maybe molly being all like „well look at you you’re already a Weasley only missing the name“)

I really hope you get what I’m going for!!

And if not I’ll literally read everything you post it’s just soo amazing!!

i love this idea! i hope i can make it how you imagined!

MAKE A WEASLEY

Pairings: George weasley x Fem!reader Summary: ^^^ Warnings: none Notes: I try my best with every request, I took days to write this to make sure it's good, when you request something I will make sure I try my best to make it good so you enjoy it so I hope you do! I'm sorry if you don't like it, and if you really don't like it, I will do another one.

you were walking to your class when you got shoved, making you fall to the ground

"what where you're going, Weasley!" you looked up seeing Draco Malfoy, standing with a foul expression as he looked down at you

"what?" you raised your eyebrows, helping yourself up

he rolled his eyes and walked away, not replying to you

you had gotten that a few times throughout the years, it confused you, you weren't a weasley

you didn't have the name, let alone look like them at all, the only thing that you all had in common is the firey red mop on the top of your heads, although yours was slightly more washed out than the others

George was walking with Fred when he heard a yell from the other side of the Corridor

"Weasley!"

he immediately turned along with Fred to see who called out to them

Fred and George saw a random boy in Ravenclaw yell out again, running to a girl with red hair who certainly wasn't ginny

"didn't he say weasley?" Fred asked George who frowned

"that's what I heard" George shrugged

"well then who the bloody hell is she? do we have a sister we don't know about?" Fred wondered, fully believing his own words

"are you kidding?" George squinted his eyes at Fred

"no, c'mon he's leaving, let's go talk to her" Fred ushered George over to her as she sat in the courtyard

Fred stood in front of the girl and cleared his throat, making her look up

"hello? do you need something?" you asked, looking slightly surprised

"why did he call you a weasley?" Fred spoke up, curious

"oh- some people just do it sometimes, it's because of my hair, I've asked them to stop a few times" you blinked nervously.

you were sitting in front of two of the most popular guys, who happened to have the name that a lot of people call you

"right, because it's red. I'm sure you don't like being associated with our family, right?" George spoke up, feeling slightly insecure

"I mean, I'd prefer being called my own name, but there's nothing wrong with your family so- it's not horrible, if it's that big of a problem with you, I'll try my best to make them stop, but then again they don't really listen to people who they 'know' are a weasley" you answered

George felt a wave of emotion when you fiddled with your fingers

He knows what it's like to be bullied for his name- even if that only happens rarely now- and only by Draco and his goons

"it doesn't really bother me, we were just wondering s'all" Fred spoke kindly

George stayed silent again, letting Fred do the talking like he always did until he got nudged by him, giving him a look

"yeah- just wondering"

you smiled up at the twins, putting the book that was in your lap in your bag and stood up

"hey- would you like to sit with us at lunch?" George blurted out, not wanting to leave yet

"sure"

- you ran down the halls, George's hand holding your own as you and the twins escaped professor filch, the aftermath of a devious prank they had invited you to join in on

"hurry up!" Fred yelled out, noticing you and George slightly behind, George ahead of you as he dragged you along

"it's not my fault your legs are so freakishly long" you laughed, almost tripping over as George quickened his pace, your legs failing to keep up

you started to fall and squealed lightly when George rushed to catch you before you hit the floor face first

"careful there, Love" he huffed before making sure you were alright

you heard the hiss and the yell from the old owner

"come on" he helped you steady yourself and turned a corner, going a different direction than Fred

you followed closely behind, not wanting to fall again, that would just be embarassing

"get back here Weasleys!" you heard Filch's distant yell that got further away the more you ran

George snickered as you got to the grand stairs, finding Fred running up the stairs

he waited for you and started laughing at how good the prank was, glancing down at you and George's interlocked hands

he looked at you and raised an eyebrow with a smirk

by instinct, you let go of George's hand, making him look over at you at the loss of your palm's warmth

he watched as you and Fred walked into the Gryffindor common room side by side, laughing

he rushed up behind you both and listened as you gushed all about it

"that was amazing! I've never done something like that, quite thrilling if I don't say so myself! is that why you do it?" you grinned, wanting to do it again

"exactly why" Fred smiled smugly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the back of the red couch

"well that was just brilliant! can we do it again?!" you asked excitedly, making George's heart burst in happiness

he's never seen anybody that happy about pranks than him and Fred, to see you smiling and wanting to do it again warmed his heart

it made him feel proud of what he does, it's funny how one person can affect his mood and feelings

"well we do it all the time" Fred motioned to him and George "but you can tag along next time if you want"

"well I don't want to impose or burden you, I just think it's fun" you frowned, thinking he didn't want you to go anymore

"no, it's great having another mind to create ideas, speaking of, do you have any?" George asked

"yes! I thought of a lot on our way back here!"

the younger twin was used to turning around when he heard the name Weasley being called in the halls, and he was only getting used to the person trying to talk to you.

other than that, everything was great, he enjoyed talking to you, hanging out with you and he knew there was something there

he never would of expected it, especially for you, a person many though was one of his family members- he cringes at the thought of that

he wonders if you think of it the same way, if you find it weird like he does.

"George?" he turned to fine you sitting next to him, a curious look on your face as you smiled gently

the twin hummed in response, cheeks turning slightly pink as your pinky touching his hand that rested beside his thigh

"sickle for your thoughts?" you nudged him

"it's nothing, it would be a waste of money" he mumbled

"is it a girl? it is, isn't it?" you beamed, shifting in your seat to fully face him

you noticed the small blush that he refused to let you see, turning his head to look away

"who!?" you grinned grabbing his arm to make him look at you

George was never going to admit he was thinking about you, he had for weeks, he would think about you and smile

"nobody, don't worry" he sighed

"aw come on, I won't tell! do I know her?" you pouted, shaking his shoulders lightly

"no one, I don't like anybody" he denied

you huffed and sat properly, crossing your arms, staying silent

"hey?" George spoke up quietly, feeling as though you were slightly mad at him

"yeah?" you yawned

"how do feel about my name?" he asked out of nowhere

"George? I don't know it's a good name" you shrugged, not quite sure what to say

"no, Weasley, my last name" George corrected

"well it belongs to a wonderful family so I like it!" you nodded happily

George had been wondering what it would be like if you actually had his last name, he could imagine it

"so you wouldn't be upset if you had it?" he fiddled with his fingers

"if I had your last name? I mean I guess it sounds alright, Y/n Weasley, not bad" you chuckled

"yeah" he laughed too, scratching his left arm "doesn't sound bad at all"

the name stayed with George for days, his mind would scream it every time he looked at you and it threatened to slip when he greeted you

and Fred knew George's feelings for you, he could read his twin like a book and it was painfully obvious

it wasn't until a year later when George finally asked you out, your final year

he was planning his and Fred's big getaway for leaving to work on the shop and he didn't know when he was going to see you next, he didn't want to leave you, he needed you

over the past year, from when he met you, he knew he wanted you to stay, he knew that no other girl was going to walk into his life and be like you, make him feel the way you made him feel, made him think the way you made him think

he knew there was something there, and he desperately wanted it to happen, Y/n Weasley was a name he wanted to create for you, a name that he wanted his children to know, a name that he wanted to say aloud and not think in his brain.

Y/n easley was merely a name in his imagination, and George made it his mission to live it

he wanted to make a Weasley out of you, if you wanted

you were meeting the whole family for christmas, going over to the Burrow and spending the holidays with them for break

"Mum already loves you so really you have nothing to worry about, dad is- well dad loves just about everyone, unless your like- evil or rude but, you're not so you're fine, Charlie's only here for Christmas day and you don't have to worry about the rest" George rumbled, holding your hand as he lead you to the burrow

you weren't that nervous, George had told you all about every family member and you had no doubt that you would get along

George opened the door and let you in before closing it behind you both

you both had been at your house getting some things, making the rest like Fred, Ginny and Ron were already there, turning up hours before you

"we're home!" George called out, wrapping his hand around your waist and leading you through the kitchen to find his family

"oh, Dear there you are!" a short, stumpy woman with a warm smile greeted you, wearing an apron

"yeah sor-" George started, getting cut off by her walking past him to you

"look at you, you already look like a weasley, only missing the name!" she declared, grabbing ahold of your cheeks and squeezing

"right Arthur?" she turned to a man who stood at the table looking at George with a smile

he came up to you and introduced himself, everyone else in the room that you haven't met doing the same, some hugging you and the others giving you a hand shake

Bill started a conversation with you, talking about your interests and what you wanted to do

George cut it short, teeling Bill that he wanted to show you where you were staying and wanted to get you settled in before dinner

Bill agreed and George smiled, getting your bags

"i got them, don't worry" you shook your head, trying to take them off him, he only started walking towards the stairs

"c'mon"

you followed him up the stairs to his room, putting his bags down at the foot of his bed

"after a long talk with mum I convinced her to let you stay in my room, that's if you want, there's an extra bed in Ginny's room if you want it but I just thought-" he babbled

"I don't mind, whatever you want" you shrugged

"I better not wake up to you two doing things" Fred interrupted, standing in the doorway

"shut up, Fred, we won't be doing anything" the younger twin huffed

he left with his hands up defensively

George cleared his throat and waited for you to look at him before talking

"do you like it?" he questioned nervously

"I love it" you answered, bringing him into a tight hug

your hugs felt like it healed everything that pained him ever, if felt as though it got rid of every rude thing said about him, everything that hurt him, made him feel bad.

your hugs were something he never wanted to end, it was the medicine to his sickness that he didn't even have

"you know, after Christmas, Mum will do everything in her power to make us stay together" he soothed

"I wouldn't fight her on that"

he laughed "well you already are a Weasley, All that's left is to give you the name"

--------------------------------------------

#george weasley x fem #george wealsey x reader #fred and george #george weasley imagine #imagines #hp universe #oneshot #request #fluff #oliver phelps #x fem!reader

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kingmagnificoofrosas · 4 months

Text

Why I don't "ship" them

Ok, before anyone comes running me down, please hear me out! I have solid points to make here! I Promise!!!!

Btw, I'm absolutely ok with people disagreeing, but please, if you want to critique me in the comments, do it nicely! I won't tolerate any rudeness. My blog is a safe space and it should stay that way 💙

‼️Now, of course, like with all my analyses, this one is also based on my very own observation and my personal opinion. Also note, I don't hate Amaya! I hated her actions and dislike her for it. And I have very high standarts when it comes to romance‼️

We are told that these guys are married. Ok. Good. Nice. Naturally you then expect to actually see solid poof that tells us (audience) that this is true. After all, disney has a veeeery long history of displaying true love/soulmates, so this should be no different right? Right? Wrong! Let me tell you why!

I payed very close attention to Magnifico and Amaya throughout the whole movie and there was 0 romantic tension whatsoever! Love is displayed in actions and words, and actions there were none. At least none that had me believing they are more than close friends the least. Even my Mom was utterly confused as to what they even are to each other. In my Mom's words : "Anything but a married couple! More like brother and sister."

Let me explain why I believe that we have a marriage of convinience here.

First of all, Amaya calls Magnifico "Mi Rey" all the time. This is spanish btw and means "My king" And she doesn't even say it in a romantic way, she calls him that like any other person in the kingdom would.

Now, my Dad made the point that back in the days people of high status didn't call each other by surnames, but Magnifico does! He calls her Amaya. So that arguement falls. Also, others are all calling Magnifico either by his name or they say "King Magnifico" so her not calling him by his surename in private is odd.

Of course, not everyone uses romantic nicknames but I think it's just weird that Amaya never calls him anything but 'king' and later to Asha and the others she says "Magnifico". It makes no sense.

She's hardly ever around him in private.

And if she is, she does what she does when in public as well. She mostly just stands around. The most touch we see her give is her placing her hand on his shoulder! No hugs, no caressing the cheek, no loving gestures. Please, any polite human being can place a hand on someones shoulder or give a smile. My dog shows more empathy when I'm in distress than Amaya does to her husband.

Her support is the worst! Literally!

You'd think she knows her "husband" right? You'd think if he's upset, she'd do her best to calm him down and support him, right?

Well, after "Star" appears, his light floods Rosas and Magnifico panics, all Amaya does is telling him to breathe. No : "Hey, I know you're upset and scared, I understand, lets talk about it and try to find a solution together!" I mean, he's told her earlier that he thinks he's being threatened. (Clear PTSD response here)

We saw how Magnifico reacted to "breathe!" She could have given him a hug and told him something more soothing. She could have taken his hands and shown him, she cares. She should, after all, know that he's traumatized. She should know why he reacts the way he does and help him get through it.

The fact alone that the first thing Magnifico does when he's upset is to withdraw himself to figure his problems out on his own rather than seek his spouse for comfort tells me a lot!

Yes, she asks him to put the book down by telling him it's bad and he needs to protect himself, and he does in the end, but what she does then makes me facepalm myself.

Get this, Magnifico's ptsd causes him to panic, he wants to protect himself and his subjects/kingdom and Amaya tells him "Look at your people, they love you because you're their handsome king."

You good Amaya? Your husband just had a panic attack and your best reply to that is, "Breathe, your people love you and you're handsome." ? What in the good grief kinda advice to panic is "you are handsome" ? And mind you, his subjects are one of the very reasons he even panics in the first place!

But of course he reacts nicely, cause he is a sweetheart.

And her not wanting him to get posessed by the book isn't a solid proof she loves him. It only tells us she cares for him. Not how much. And also, she might know that should he get posessed, things are going down.

So what about the hand kiss then?

I'm tired of people taking this little scene as proof for everything. It's a moment of affection. But enough to make me buy they truly love each other? Nah.

A kiss to the top of the hand used to be the bare minimum form of respect a man could pay a woman. Women would have even held their hands out for men to kiss as a form of demanding respect.

We could have gotten a real kiss. If not on the lips, on the cheek, on the forehead, anything that clearly shows us, yes, they love each other. But no. And also, the patting? He patted her hand like I pat my dogs head and the kiss was more a quick peck. Imagine Magnifico would have lingered for 3 seconds, held eye contact or looked at Amaya a little while longer, now that would have been romantic tension, that would have told me, there are solid feelings there!

Yes, in english he calls her "my love" but in german he says "my dear" which you could call anyone as a form of being nice! And even if he meant it in a affectionate way, his actions don't add up to it.

If you say you love someone, you prove it with actions. If there is no action to prove words, it's just not true. And no, even people who have a hard time expressing their emotions do show they love you in their own ways. So let's move on and examine Magnifico's behavior more.

Again, he doesn't seek her comfort! He rather runs across half his castle to let out his thoughts and emotions than talk to her. That means, he doesn't trust her enough. He doesn't feel safe enough to show his vunerability in her presence, open up, vent, cry and let out his feelings. But he should! You should be able to do that in a marriage. He calls her "my love" but other than that? Do his actions underline what he says? No.

If you didn't agree with the above so far, I have this 👇🏼

He knew she'd betray him! He sent out Simon instead of going on his own.

If she were his true love/soulmate, he wouldn't have even spent a single thought about if she could eventually betray him. If you truly love someone, you don't betray them like a snap of a finger. Of course ptsd people have trust issues but Amaya is said to be his "loyal wife"

Loyal my butt!

The first thing she did after he snapped wasn't try everything in her might to get him back and safe him, no, she immediately ran to Asha and her teenage friends and was like, "Oh, I'm sick and tired of him, I've seen so many horrors, I suffered so bad. Yup, he's evil, let's destroy him." (Yes, literally! I'm pointing at that "trample the cookie to pieces" scene ...)

She sings : I've seen too many bad things that I can't keep count!

Huh? Like what please? All of the sudden she acts as if he'd been abusing her all the time. He never called her names, never threated her badly (until he became posessed by the evil in the book that is) he never raised his hand to her. He even told her he's lucky to have her, which (pfff. What did she even do besides sitting and standing still and look pretty?)

Look at what's going on here. And study the facial expressions, please. Magnifico is tired here. He's tired, annoyed, disappointed and upset at his subjects and Amaya is straight up confused. Look at her. She cannot understand why he's so upset.

The situation escaletes, he storms away and she tells him "they question you because you make them feel safe enough to do so."

*holding my laugh right here* Again, what a way to trample into a wound!

Subjects questioning their king is normal in a way, but right here, Magnifico is on the edge of his nerves anyway and she might have aimed to calm him but in the absolute wrong way! If you as "wife" know that your husband has ptsd, and is venting or reacting to a trigger, you don't go talking about that trigger even further. People with ptsd will understand me here. Even if someone means well, if you keep talking about the very thing that just triggered a ptsd response, you're making it worse!

She could have told him, "They're just as confused about the situation as you are. You are their king and they look up to you. I'm sure they didn't mean to question you in a bad way."

But anyway, he pushes her away, saying he doesn't want to be disturbed. Which, ok, sometimes you need to cool down on your own but he does that every single time. And she just runs along clueless and helpless like some sort of servant.

To be fair, people with ptsd/c-ptsd are difficult to handle. Even in a relationship of true love, it's not always easy. But with Amaya and Magnifico, I'm looking at the whole picture and not just a single moment. I looked at every moment we get in the movie and how they react and behave.

Amaya was all smiles until the moment he snapped. Then all of the sudden, yes, he's an evil monster! And oh, her too ignoring the fact that he got ptsd and that it's the evil that has a hold of him now that makes him go bonkers, nice! So much for : in good and in bad times.

Amaya - "The good in him, I watched it melt."

Yes, that is exactly the problem! She watched! Magnifico was suffering and she watched! Also the good was only swapped because he got posessed by evil, lady Sherlock.

Furthermore, when she and Dahlia look into the evil book, and Dahlia states the book says that once posessed by the evil magic, there is no going back forever. And Amaya doesn't bat a lash. Excuse me? What ever the heck happened to : true love breaks any curse? True love's kiss breaks any spell? We even had true love tears breaking curses! (Tangled and frozen)

Amaya didn't even shed one singe tear. None. At this point, Asha cried more over the situation than Amaya did. Just how quickly she was ok with everything, how quickly she accepted the situation ....

Heck, if he'd been her true love, things would have looked way different. Yes, disney tried to pull the "but he's the villain" card, but I don't buy that for a second. They could have made her heartbroken at least but she even snapped at him after he was on the edge. It's him who betrayed everyone. The evil magic book is suddenly forgotten. No, no, no! Ya'll backstabbing him and ignoring the fact he's got PTSD got him into this shit situation in the first place. And if AMAYA hadn't totally failed at being a good wife, Magnifico most likely wouldn't have even gotten as far!

But, the answer is simple. She doesn't love him! Or at least not nearly enough! When she sang, I was fooled by the love I felt, I was like 🤨? What exactly did you love, dear? His handsome looks? His magic? The only praise we saw her give him was when he did magic. When he did magic and or granted wishes she cheered like a child but other than that? Nothing like, "I see how much you give, how hard you try to protect us all everyday. I wish I could help you more, take some of that burden from your shoulders or at least carry it with you."

And if you're still not convinced, this tops it all! 👇🏼

Again, no tears, no sadness, nothing. She even approaches the whole situation with humor! And then she picks the mirror up like a dead rat on its tail and proudly declares "to the dungeons with him!" Not at all a reaction from a wife who truly "loves/loved" her husband.

She gives the tiny mirror away like a trashbag.

So to add things up. There is nothing to prove they truly loved each other. Cared for one another to a certain degree, yes. Magnifico at least showed a sprinkle of affection but on the other hand, he's a gentleman.

So, no, I personally will never ship them. I love Magnifico and the fact that Amaya wrote him off as easy as shrugging off a bug from your shoulder upsets me. 😬

He deserves so much better! He deserves true love. He deserves a healthy relationship full of compassion, support and guidance. He deserves respect and acknowledgement. He deserves healing!

Give that poor ptsd suffering man a break!

#disney wish #wish 2023 #king magnifico #queen amaya #ramble #venting post #I'm sorry but I don't ship them #team magnifico #complex ptsd #ptsd awareness

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cielie-voss · 3 months

Note

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally.

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother.

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior.

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory.

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey.

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works.

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening.

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing.

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence.

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.”

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you.

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you.

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!”

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass.

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted.

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip.

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you!

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.”

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing.

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

“Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good.

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him.

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel.

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive.

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!”

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity.

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air.

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place.

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious.

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child.

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought.

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace.

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had.

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony.

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed.

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you.

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’.

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy.

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.”

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie.

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them.

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie.

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side.

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child.

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area.

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years.

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie.

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends.

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin.

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

___________

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