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shinyrhinestones · 2 months ago

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Youthful Hearts

Part one

Series summary: Readers new around town, and therefore doesnt know the place or people. However, she ends up befriending the most chaotic people she could find.

Warnings: Idk let me know if u spot any. (Also this isn’t historically correct bc i want it my way ig).

Pairing: Billie Joe X Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright so I’m bored and I’m gonna apparently explore different fandoms, cause heres a Billie Joe fic. However I lowkey dont know where to go with this fic so I’ll only post this part for now, and to my surprise there isn’t a lot of fics within this fandom..

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On a regular day at the week you found yourself in a whole new place. You were actually here for studying, but it was gonna be a long year if you didn’t make any friends or connections at all. Now, making new friends isn’t all that easy, which is why at first you settled with s cat. A male cat who would keep you company. He was cuddly, but also took care of himself, like all cats pretty much do.

But at one point you had to face the fact that you didn’t do well without social contact. Yes, you still called back home, not only to your family but also friends. But who would be there for you when you hung up? Exept for your cat of course.

You really didn’t know how to meet new people. What kind of communities were there in your area? And how did you join?

For being a 21 year old, on your own in a new place, you really hoped that there was communities for your age. And interests. One to mention could be music. Music means a lot to many people, including you.

You pondered and wondered but you just physically couldn’t come up with anything. So you gave up.

A week later, walking down a street you weren’t familiar with. You were on your way home, and unfortunately couldn’t go the way you always did, when coming home from a long day at your school. You weren’t all to familiar with your surroundings yet, and therefore mostly only felt safe walking the known path, you had to walk pretty much every day.

But this time you were stressed out because the path you always walk, was unfortunately closed down. In a sense that an accident had happened, down that specific street. Ambulances and police cars parked down that street, with flashing lights everywhere. You knew you couldn’t just find your way around, but you tried walking down other Streets to see if anything was looking familiar.

But you only got more stressed as you felt completely lost. Your mind was racing with a thousands thoughts at once. What was gonna happen now? You were starting to get sweaty under your jacket, which was even more frustrating cause it was already hot outside. You wore a dark coloured summer jacket, cause every now and then the summer breeze would hit, in such a relieving way. But instead of standing and not knowing what to do you kept walking around. Walking down a street where you a bunch young people hanging around. It was little funny, so hang on here.

By a pair of stairs, leading down into what normally would look like a shop. But you could tell this wasn’t a shop. A few youths sitting or standing by the stairs, chilling. Most of them with a cigarette in between their fingers.

You hesitated walking down the street, because not only did this look like a closed off space, but you weren’t that well around people your age. Why? Not sure, but maybe its the way its so easy to get wronged by people you thought would understand you.

At first you thought you’d just walk past them, but what if you had to go past them again, cause you walked in the wrong direction, like you’ve been doing for some time now. Your stomach churned.

You then decided to go up and ask them for directions, since it was probably what you should’ve done for so long now.

You probably looked extremely nervous walking up to them by the way your lips curved into an awkward smile, and your slightly shaky voice.

“Uhm..Hello. I’m new around here and I seem to be a little lost..” You were trying to explain your situation as you were facing completely new humans. From what you could tell they were all men. It only made you more nervous to talk to them, as you also took in completely new appearences.

Most of them had unnatural hair colours. Blue and green. Tattoos and piercings. By a first impression, you’d think they were open-minded. And you tried to calm yourself with that. Maybe they wouldn’t judge you, like you always worried would happen anyways.

You felt like they had such an intense gaze but when a stranger approaches you, that will probably be an outcome.

“Yeah so, this is the street I’m headed.” You pulled out a piece of paper from your pocket. A piece of paper you had kept on you ever since you moved in, because of the fear of exactly this scenario.

One of the guys with with a tatto on his arm, and an earring hanging from his earlobe tried to reach out for it before one the others snatched it out of your grip. You took a look at the guy who tried, but failed. His hair was dark but not black. Quite lighter actually. And he was probably the tallest one, but you couldn’t exactly tell when most of them were sitting down. His face had a few sharp features. Like the shape of his face was sharp and somewhat bony. He had a long nose and a long face in general. His hair was messy.

He gave the other nameless guy a look, which you couldn’t read. You figured it was just normal teasing among friends.

The man holding and reading the piece of paper, was the one sitting on the top step of the stairs. His hair was blue, a quite bright one.

He read it, as the other ones let their eyes get a glimpse of the writing. He stood up and you could tell that he was definitely shorter than the other one. Now you got a better look at his face. His eyebrows were a bit long and black. His face oval and his eyes were green. But you noticed how he had small dark circles under his eyes, and you yourself knew what that was like. He probably didn’t get that much sleep, and if he did it wasn’t enjoyable.

He started explaining the directions for you but you could barely keep up. You had never been good at directions, or finding your way around. You really tried to understand, and you didn’t wanna make a fool of yourself.

You felt like giving up and just letting yourself wander around for hours again. But what good would that do? When he was done explaining he was looking at you. His eyes squinted from the suns rays. Which made a Line appear between his eyebrows, and a subtle scrunched nose. You gave him an awkward smile and shrugged. “Thank you for the help.” You said, but he could sense the insecurity beaming out of you.

“Alright, come here.” He walked down to the end of the street as you followed behind. When he reached the corner, he started pointing to a bunch of directions while explaining. You were finally understanding, and he gave you back the piece of paper. “No problem.” He replied after you thanked him a second time. He kept standing for a moment by the end of the street, watching you for a few seconds as you made your way home. He turned away, and walked back to where he came from.

His friends had been joking around, and sounds of laughter escaped the young men. He sat down by stairs again, as one of his friends shoved him. “Should’ve asked for her nummer while you were at it.” A goofy tone echoed in his friends voice.

“Yeah, you snapped that piece of paper so quickly, I didn’t stand a chance.” His other friend joked along.

The blue haired guy shook his head, and reached for his friends cigarette box. “Hey!” He exclaimed in protest, but didn’t snatch it back. “You owe me now.” He gave a faint smile, and lit the cigarette with a black lighter.

For you, you couldn’t shake off the fact that this was the longest and most helpful conversation you had had in your everyday life outside of school yet. Not only that, but they were interesting guys. They looked different and probably on purpose. And to be honest they were interesting to you. What a bummer this is how it went.

—-

if anyone is actually interested and wants a part more let me know (: also there’s probably spelling mistakes sorry! English is not my first language guys. I’ll probably right one anyway but at the same time i would need something to be motivated for like be fr.

You can find the other parts here

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spittingbloodandscreaming · 10 months ago

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Billie Joe Armstrong/Cis Male Reader smut where Billie where's pink panties and gets absolutely destroyed by reader and reader only refers to Billie as "Mr. Green Day".

(also its bleach blonde billie)

wears* also don't use anon i was right next to you when you sent this? @pinkfor3stt

Well isn't this just a sight.

1994, Green Day is at the top of the charts, they're selling albums in the millions. Every music magazine has his face on it or in it in some way.

And here he is. The one and only Billie Joe Armstrong on his hands and knees in front of you. In your bed. In jeans so low rise you can't do anything but notice his pretty pink lady underwear. And you make a point to tell him as you reach around to unbutton his jeans.

“Isn't this just a bit girly for you?” You giggle, snapping the lace-embroidered waistband against his skin. You move out of the way enough for Billie to kick his pants the rest of the way off, but quickly resume your clothed crotch to less-clothed ass position. “I mean I could understand the leopard print, but wow, neon pink? Lace? What would the audience think had you taken your pants off stage with these Mr. Green Day?” The condescension in your voice makes Billie sigh.

“They'd love it, you know. Maybe next time.” His laugh at his own joke is interrupted by you pulling his head back by his hair roughly, resulting in a yelp and a slew of profanity. You figure that that's enough talking from the both of you, might as well get to the point now. You move his underwear to the side and sloppily aim spit vaguely near his entrance. At the same time, you perform the masterful stunt of unbuttoning your pants with one hand.

You lean over, pressing yourself against Billie’s back. You turn his face to the side, giving you easy access to press a kiss to his lips. While doing so, you shove yourself inside of him. Unsurprisingly due to the lack of prep, he lurches forward, disconnecting from the kiss and letting out a strangled moan. You roll your eyes as you pull away. It’s not like you stabbed him.

You place two firm hands on the man-of-the-hour’s hips, figuring he’s had enough time to adjust as you begin to move. You hit the ground running at a solid one hundred and twenty beats per minute, and Billie’s making sounds that would give any bystander the impression you're killing him. You don’t exactly blame him this time, you’re having trouble keeping your cool with the way he’s arching into you, face fully down on the mattress. Any attempt to hold himself up has gone, and you’re only, what, a minute in?

You hook an arm around Billie’s waist, pulling him as close as possible and using that as leverage to pick up the pace as much as possible. He might as well be screaming now, spitting pathetic attempts at full sentences. The only words he seems to be able to get out are ‘mother fucker’ and ‘jesus christ’. You hoist him up a bit further, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you speak.

“Yeah, what? You like that, don’t you Mr. Green Day?” In retrospect, you realize how strange of a thing that is to say while absolutely demolishing a famous man’s insides, but you live and you learn. Billie reacts though, clenching around you and moaning louder and higher than before. You’re sure he’s close, and you know you are. You let him fall against the bed, keeping your arm around his waist and ramming into him as hard as you can. It only takes a moment of that before you and Billie both cum seconds away from eachother. You let your legs give out from under you, laying on top of Billie for just a beat before catching your breath enough to roll off of him. You both lie face up for a while, trying your best to level your breathing.

“Where the hell did the Mr. Green Day thing come from?” Billie says, low and hoarse.

“Do you not like it?”

“No, no I do. Use it again sometime.”

#green day #billie joe armstrong #billie joe armstrong x reader smut #bille joe armstrong x male reader smut #bandom #billie joe armstrong smut #nsft fanfiction #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #green day fanfiction

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alien-4-life · 6 months ago

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i spent an hour on this,better be worth it

(The guy is Billie joe Armstrong) AM SO BAD AT DRAWING I DONT REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I DREW DIGITALLY SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME IN MONTHS MAYBE A YEAR🙏

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hiddenreamers · 3 months ago

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I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

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m00nsbaby · 1 year ago

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BABES HEAR ME OUT- Ever heard of the song "the moon will sing" by the crane wives?

I was wondering if I could get "I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me"? With the moonboys 🥺💗

I CRIED???? Y'ALL NEED TO STOP SENDING ME SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE THE BABIES BECAUSE I CRY LIKE AN IDIOTLKSDJFKLG

I LOVED THIS ONE, HERE WE GO

The moon will sing.

Moon system x reader.

Tags & warnings. A bit of angst (you know me), fluff and some self steem problems.

Word count. 2.4k

Summary.

I loved you like the sun; with no light of my own, I shine only with the light you gave me.

Over time, you came to understand that this couldn't be, at least not in a romantic sense, but you had no problem accepting that the four of you worked incredibly well as best friends.

You loved them, and there was no greater reward than seeing how your love had been a significant support in their lives. Sometimes, there's nothing like watching the love of your life grow. However, no matter how hard you worked, there was something they still couldn't shake.

But the silver lining was that many times, they just needed a little reassurance.

In Steven's case, it was always his memory.

As it turns out, Steven, for logical reasons, didn't remember much of his life, and he never really thought about it until now when he was in this strange balance with Marc and Jake. Even though the three of them stood thinking, "Hey, this is better than how I felt in the past," there were things in his head that they never expressed because sometimes comfort gives you a false sense that you shouldn't complain about your current situation.

That you should be grateful.

And Steven Grant was thankful for many things. He was grateful for Marc and Jake, grateful for you, grateful for his life, and even grateful for Gus's new friend. So when throughout the day he heard or saw something that triggered a false deja vu, he suppressed the urge to cry, knowing that it was probably a memory of Marc that he wasn't identifying correctly.

Much of his life was spent questioning what had been real and what was a product of his imagination.

"Listen, listen," you whispered, looking at him intently.

Both of you were sitting on his carpet right in front of the sofa, your backs against the couch and your shoulders touching.

You were introducing Steven to the magic of Green Day, and he was the only one who could tolerate your habit of pausing every song to say, 'this is the best part,' in a short 3-minute period.

Well, this one was really the best part. The build-up during the 'Til then I walk alone' always gave you shivers, and it did the same for him, but for a completely different reason.

It was silly to think that a young Marc Spector, unsupervised and burdened with a thousand problems to deal with, didn't take advantage of every opportunity to distract himself in any way he could, like at parties.

In 2004, at just 16 years old, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" was one of those things that made you say, "Woah, this is definitely the best thing humanity has ever created." It was at one of those ridiculous parties that Billie Joe Armstrong figuratively opened his eyes.

Suddenly, Steven wasn't with you anymore. He was on an uncomfortable couch surrounded by cigarette smoke, and the taste of beer lingered in his mouth. He could deal with the memory, but not with the flood of feelings that hit him like a runaway truck. The feeling of being a lost child, without parents, without friends, without his brother, and without any desire, fighting not to sink as the days went by.

Sometimes, it was a good reminder of how much of an anchor he was for Marc.

He ripped out his earpiece before the song could finish, and he looked at you with fear. You furrowed your brow, confused but not as detached from the situation as you had been in the past. It wasn't the first time.

"Steven? Are you okay?" you whispered, putting your phone aside to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I…," he stammered, closing his eyes for a few seconds just to catch his breath. "It was a… It's nothing."

You placed your hand on his cheek to seek his gaze, and he immediately melted at your touch, his head tilting toward your hand like a puppy seeking affection.

"What happened?"

"I… I remembered."

Oh, so that was it.

You nodded slowly, and your arms slid around his shoulders, he hugged you by the waist to pull you closer to his body. You learned with time that Steven's love language was physical touch.

You felt him squeeze harder with his arms, and his forehead rested on your shoulder.

"It's okay if you want to cry," you knew he was holding back.

Like clockwork, you felt your T-shirt getting wet from his tears.

"I can't anymore," he whispered with difficulty, his body experiencing small spasms from crying. "I can't anymore, I don't know what's… I don't know," he stammered, and you nodded slowly.

"I understand." The position was uncomfortable, but you weren't willing to let go. "I understand, Steven."

"I don't know what's real, I don't know." He took a deep breath. "I was at… at some kind of party," he tried to laugh at his silly memory while sniffing.

"And were they listening to Green Day? It sounds like fun," you joked back with a slight smile, your fingers combing his curls to your liking. "Marc definitely had a Green Day phase."

You managed to make him laugh, even with his difficulty in breathing.

"Maybe," you whispered, trying to get his attention again. "We can talk to him; he'll help you remember."

"He doesn't like to talk about it."

You moved away just enough to look him in the face. Your hands traveled from his shoulders to his cheeks, which you squeezed with your fingers while giving him a small smile.

"He'll understand," you whispered, the tip of your nose brushing against his. Finally, you saw him smile back.

"Do you think so?"

"I do," you confirmed, wrinkling your nose at him affectionately.

For Marc, it all depended on embracing his inner child, both literally and symbolically, the one who was always scared and never knew how to express it.

The sound of one of his crystal glasses shattering made you look up from the sofa. He was looking at the floor in annoyance, and within seconds, you heard a second crash, him hitting the nearest wall.

"Shit!" he exclaimed loudly. You sighed heavily and got up to go to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I… yeah," he said, looking at his hand, which had a cut on the palm. You could hear his heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling in front of your eyes.

"Calm down."

"I am calm," he replied immediately, looking at the juice stain on the floor.

"Marc, it's okay." The glass crunched under your shoe, and you almost gave him a nervous tic. You were making an even bigger mess; you were going to get him in trouble.

But with whom?

Who was going to punish him?

"Look at that." Your voice was soft, and he found it ridiculous how your expression wrinkled in concern when you noticed the cut on his hand.

He'd been impaled once; this was nothing.

"It doesn't hurt."

You ignored him, placing your hand under his to bring it closer to your face. Your other hand removed the tiny shard of glass stuck in his skin, and he hissed; it hurt a little, just a little.

Very little.

"Come on, let me…" You whispered, bringing his hand with you. This time, his shoes completed the mess beneath both of you. You turned on the sink and held his hand under the water.

He stayed still, obedient to you. He could feel the rhythm of his heart slowing down.

He watched as you put soap in his palm and then rubbed it with yours as if he were washing his hands himself. It stung, but he paid little attention when you were so close. The genuine concern you felt for him made Marc's stomach turn; this hadn't happened to him before.

The blood stopped flowing within seconds; it wasn't anything serious, just as he had thought.

"Do you think you need a band-aid?"

He thought you were teasing him until he saw you smile with your characteristic tenderness. He slowly shook his head, not knowing what to say.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and you did the same.

"Oh, that."

"Take off your shoes." He moved to the dry part of the floor, doing as he had asked you to do. His tone was so gentle that your smile unconsciously grew on your face.

This was the point you wanted to reach with him.

"Let me pick up the glass, okay? Get a towel to dry this."

And together, as if they were on a children's show, you cleaned up the mess Marc had caused, without raising your voices or arguing.

"Do you want to choose the movie for tonight?" You gave him a little nudge with your shoulder as both of you finished washing your hands, and he pushed you back in the same playful manner.

"I thought that was a given." It's amazing how quickly you can forget your mistakes when no one scares you for making them.

You were willing to stay as long as it took for Marc to understand that accidents were just that—accidents. If only someone had told him that many years ago.

The rest of the night passed as if nothing had happened. He hugged your shoulders, and you ate popcorn from the bowl resting on his stomach. Marc chose the worst action movie you had ever seen, but you enjoyed his silly comments as well as his laughter when the effects were terrible.

A broken glass wasn't the end of the world; it never was.

Topics with Jake were always deeper, both literally and symbolically; the conversations you had about the existence of human beings always seemed like a philosophy class.

Because unfortunately, he still had trouble feeling like a person with autonomy, not just an extension of Marc and Steven's needs.

He wasn't just a tool.

"I don't understand why they need another room." He looked around with a furrowed brow, still not sure how you managed to get rid of all the clutter in that room.

It was completely empty, except for an old desk that Steven refused to get rid of. It was the perfect space.

"For you."

"Huh?" He looked at you as if you were crazy.

"For you. I talked to Steven and Marc, and they both agree that you deserve to have a space for yourself that isn't your car."

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't spend that much time in my car."

"Steven says you like the car more than him."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Well, that's true."

This time, you rolled your eyes.

"But…" He continued. "It's not necessary. I'm sure Steven's books would make better use of the space. Why do I need a room?"

"For listening to music? Reading? Watching those dramatic afternoon novelas? Watching pornogr…”

"Fine! I get it!" He wasn't thrilled with the idea. You could see it as he continued to look around the room, not sure if he was planning something or simply disdainful of the idea.

"Do you like it?"

"No."

He was the most difficult person you knew; that wasn't a surprise. But he gradually warmed up to the idea, especially when you brought him two different posters, each with a completely different painting printed on them.

Café Terrace at Night by Vincent Van Gogh.

Vs.

Las Meninas by Diego Velazquez.

It took him hours to decide; every now and then, he would stop to look at the paintings and examine every detail.

"Did you know…" He caught your attention as you organized some books on the desk, new books he had chosen. "Van Gogh didn't sign this painting?" He pointed at the poster, and you looked up to analyze it as if you were going to refute it. "Historians know it's his because he mentioned it in letters before."

Well, that was something you didn't know.

Steven probably said he knew it from the headspace.

"I had no idea."

"I think I'll go with that one."

"Then that's the one."

And so began the extensive collection of meaningless decorations on the walls of Jake's new room. He had a thousand photos with no order, pictures of Marc and Steven (anyone who walked into the room would think he just had very high self-esteem), pictures of you, cats he saw on the street, his car or cars he thought were cool but would never be his.

He had photos of the moon and Queen posters. Papers that made him look like one of those hoarders from the reality shows you watched with Steven, because when he realized he could find a bit of his reality in the smallest things, he didn't stop.

A parking meter ticket, some from the corner convenience store where he bought spicy potato chips that painted his fingers red, the wrapper from one of his favorite candies, some tickets from different movies at the cinema, that note you left on the passenger seat wishing him a good day.

The collection was so extensive that you'd probably never finish listing it.

Oh, he also had a shopping list from Steven.

He never thanked you out loud, but the fact that he started using the space was enough for you. Ah, and the way he lifted you in his arms to make you laugh.

"Jake! No, no, no!" Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"You're amazing, you know that, cariño?"

"Why?"

"Just because you are." He kissed your entire face, oh, never the lips; he didn't cross that boundary even though the temptation was constant, especially when your huge eyes fixed on him in this way, your forehead resting against his.

"Just because you are." He repeated with the same smile.

The truth was, neither Steven, nor Marc, nor Jake had much in mind about what their life was like before you, and that's why they were afraid to think about what it would be like without you in it.

Maybe that was why they were so afraid to take that extra step, why they enjoyed your love the way they did, without giving you the exchange you deserved.

What if it didn't work out? Could they live with the memory of how well you had treated them?

What were they before you?

And what would they be if you weren't there?

None of them wanted to imagine it.

So every night, Steven held you tighter, praying that you would never realize that you deserved more than this, more than fixing someone broken; Marc told you stories you had heard before, as a way to let you know how much he cared, how confident he was that if someone wouldn't judge him, it was you; and Jake kept buying your favorite chocolates as if that would be enough to keep you, oh, and sometimes he kept the wrappers.

If you ever decided to leave, those would be proof that you were once with them.

Mk's tag list :)@ninebluehearts @icreatedthisat317am @onefinnedwonder-fm @shousha133

this one wasn't that bad, right?

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c0smic-coral · 1 year ago

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About Me! (Updated 1-7-25)

I AM TAKING A TUMBLR HIATUS UNTIL FEBRUARY 7 STARTING AT 2AM JANUARY 7 EST. If you need to talk to me, please email me at [email protected]. This is only if it is IMPORTANT. Thanks for understanding. 😘

My name is Coral/🪸 (not real name). Welcome to my galactic reef.

Age: 20 (will be 21 on 5-15-25)

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual with maybe a little bit of a preference for guys

Disorders: ADHD, autism (at the level that was formerly known as Asperger’s), anxiety, depression and adjustment disorder

Location: Based in the East Coast of the USA. I’m not comfortable with specifying further

Fandoms: I’m in several, but my biggest ones are Star Trek: The Next Generation, Marvel Cinematic Universe/X-Men films, BBC Sherlock, Star Wars and Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

Music I’m into: Taylor Swift, Green Day, Melanie Martinez, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, various musicals

Main ships: Qcard, Spirk, Stucky, Benthan, Lokius, Johnlock

Blorbos: Bucky Barnes, Q, Sherlock Holmes, Billie Joe Armstrong (kin) Jim Moriarty, Alastor, Logan Howlett, Poe Dameron, Steven Grant/Marc Spector (crush)

Sideblogs: @swiftie-sherlockian for BBC Sherlock and Taylor Swift and @the-greatest-moth for rambling about my OC Nora

My YouTube channel

My Reddit

Fics:

~COMPLETED~ Living in the Night (The Band Ghost, Terzo x Sister of Sin!Reader, Explicit, 4.6k, 2/2)

he looked right at me (like he didn’t even know me) (Marvel What If…?, Stucky, Mature, 5.6k, 1/1)

My Love, My Steve (Marvel, Stucky, Teen and Up, 2.1K, 1/1)

~WIPS~ Unraveled (Star Trek TNG, Qcard, Mature, 26.5k, 9/11)

in my heart and in my head (BBC Sherlock, Johnlock, Teen and Up, 15.8k, 4/6)

~UNRELEASED SONG LYRICS~ grab your pencil, we’re writing a tragedy (BBC Sherlock, Johnlock, Mature, 711)

OCs: Qira “Quiggs” Quiggles, Malorie Mission, “Frank” Tarrank, Qevin, Qai, Ginnithan Q (Star Trek), Anneliese “Clover” Holmes (BBC Sherlock), Candace Kayne (Hazbin Hotel), Nora Everly/Echofox, Lavender James (Marvel), Amilia Syko (Star Wars), Carmila Cardenas (no fandom), Jade Armstrong (Green Day), Emily Jaxon (no fandom)

OC x Canon ships: Malverly (Mal x Beverly), Cloviarty (Clover x Moriarty), Candastor (Candace x Alastor), Norgan/Wolverfox (Nora x Logan), Poemilia (Amilia x Poe), Stevender/Lavenmarc/Lavenmoon (Lavender x Steven/Lavender x Marc, Jake scares the shit out of her)

DNI: Homophobes, transphobes/TERFs/truscum, racists, anti-Semitics, Islamophobes, atheistophobes, if you discriminate against any religion or lack thereof, ableists, pedos/MAPs, zoophiles/anyone who does bestiality, anti-otherkin/therians, people who think incest is ok, MINORS UNDER 13, proanas, proshippers, cyberbullies, people who post pornographic photos, people who romanticize problematic stuff like trauma, people who assume all Potterheads are transphobes, people who support problematic people (ie Trump, JKR, Kanye), people who support cringe culture

You can also ask me anything, but nothing too personal. I have the right to not answer an ask for any reason, so if I do not answer your ask within 24 hours of you sending it, do not pressure me to answer!! If you do, you will be blocked!! If you spam my ask box, you will also be blocked. If you ask blatantly sexual questions, you will also be blocked.

IF YOU MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE IN ANY WAY, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!

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joyr1de · 1 year ago

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— requests!

wooo requests! these are almost always open, but you can check availability on my welcome page. i try to do as many as i’m interested in writing but i make no promises.

also if you particularly want sfw please specify or i will most likely assume nsfw!

— who i can write:

• any mcr member/mcr adjacent person

• fob members

• billie joe armstrong. maybe mike or tre too

• x-readers (female and male) (mostly female)

• person x person ships (if i like the ship)

— what i can write:

• one-shots

• headcanons

• nsfw or sfw

• most kinks (see below)

— what i WON’T write:

• reader with specific features, not including gender (meaning race, body type, etc.)

• transgender reader nsfw (i am cis and do not feel comfortable describing something i haven’t experienced.) sfw is allowed!

• ocs

• abuse/non-con/extreme violence (dub-con is fine)

• feet

• scat play

• chaptered stories (requests will be one-shot length maximum)

#requests

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markdelonge · 2 years ago

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“ i'm in love ”

not my gif !

note: i am so sorry !!!!!!!!! that this took forever!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to take some time to learn about billie before writing about him bc i didn't know anything other than him being in green day so i spent a week listening to their music and watching interviews AND i was originally gonna do a "dating billie" type thingy but i gave up half way thru bc i was running out of headcannon thingys but its in my drafts so if u want it just lmk

...

request?: yes

pairing: billie joe armstrong x female!reader

contains: bad writing, age gap

keys: Y/F/N = your friend's name. Y/F/F = your favorite food

...

You walked into a fancy restaurant that you had never heard the name of before, fiddling with the hem of your knee-length skirt as you walked up to the waitress standing behind a desk.

"Hi, Just one?" She asked as she picked up a menu.

"Um, No, I-I'm supposed to be meeting someone here. By the name of 'Billie' You started, chewing on your lip from your anxiety.

"Billie Armstrong, I think" You finished

You watched as she looked down at a chart she had as she ran her finger down the paper.

"Y/N?" She asked as she smiled back up to you.

"Yes, that's me" You smiled back, a little bit of your anxiety going away.

"Right this way" She said after she walked from behind the desk and started leading you to the table that an unfamiliar face sat at.

Your anxiety immediately came back as you watched him stand up and he smiled at you.

"There will be someone to come ask for your orders soon" The woman smiled once more before turning to continue her job.

You looked back at the man who was standing in front of you, your friend was not lying when she said that he was attractive. He was shorter than you imagined, though. Taller than less than 5 inches, you didn't really care that much about it.

"Hello. Y/N, right? He asked before sticking his hand out.

You took his hand in your and lightly shook it

"Yes, and you're Billie?" You smiled, mentally cringing.

All he did was nod before breaking the handshake and sitting back down which you followed his actions and looked down at your lap and fiddled with your thumbs.

You looked back up to him to see him already looking at you with an adorable smile plastered on his face.

"So, do you know what you're gonna get yet?" You asked before biting the inside of your cheek and lifting the fancy restaurant's fancy menu.

"No not yet, I haven't even ordered a drink yet"

You looked up at him and your eyes took a second to study the table, noticing that nothing but the menus, salt, pepper and a bouquet of fake flowers were on the table

"How long were you waiting?" You asked, your stomach flipping, hoping that it wasn't long.

"Not that long, maybe like 10 minutes."

"Thank God" You thought to yourself

"So, Y/N, tell me a little about yourself" He stated with a charming smile which was enough to make you smile back

"Well, my full name is Y/F/N, I just recently turned 31"

You continued to talk about yourself, answering the questions he had for you and trying to leave out anything that made you seem lame.

After about 3 minutes of talking about yourself and laughing, the waiter had finally walked up to the table

"Hello, what can I get you two for drinks?" She asked, pulling out a pen from her apron.

Billie looked over to you as if he was waiting for you to answer. You looked down at the menu for a couple seconds before making up your mind.

You lightly cleared your throat before speaking

"I'll have sweet tea"

The lady wrote down what you had said before looking over to Billie

"And what about you, Sir?"

"A pepsi would be cool"

She raised her eyebrow before writing down what he had said then closed her notebook pad and put her pen away.

"I'll be back with your drinks shortly" She smiled and walked away

"Did you see the way she looked at me?" Billie leaned closer over the table and whispered so she wouldn't be able to hear him which made you laugh

"She's probably confused on why we didn't order champagne or something" You whispered before looking around you

"This is a very nice restaurant" You finished.

Your friend, who was also your roommate, had completely set up the date. She was in charge of the day, the time, where it was and she refused to tell either of you what the name of the restaurant was all she did was give you guys each other's names and the address to the restaurant.

"Yeah, I feel underdressed right now" He said in a more normal voice and sitting up straight.

"Me too, I wish Y/F/N would've warned me that this restaurant was gonna be so fancy, I'm used to dates at Applebee's" You joked and silently praised yourself when you saw the smile that showed up on Billie's face

"So, you go on a lot of dates?" He joked back

"Oh, all the time" You replied sarcastically, dragging out "all" to put more emphasis on it.

"I just got back from a date before I came here" You fake bragged, having no idea where you got the confidence to joke with him the way you were.

"Oh, yeah?" He raised an eyebrow

You hummed and nodded your head.

"Where'd you go?" He asked

"Uhh, Applebee's" You said in a "duh" voice.

Your response made him laugh loudly which caught the attention of some people around you. The two of you both looked at the people who were most-likely silently judging you before looking back at each other and laughing more.

The waitress soon came back with your drinks and took your orders. He had ordered Chicken Alfredo while you ordered Y/F/F, that being your go-to food whenver you went out (which wasn’t a lot).

“Okay, Billie, you know almost everything about me, tell me about you” You said before taking a sip of your drink.

You learned lots about him, like his middle name being “Joe”, how he’s in a band called “Green Day”, which you were suprised to hear, given the fact that you knew a couple of their songs, maybe like 2 or 3, you never took the time to see who was in the band though. You also found out that he was 9 years older than you, making him 40. That took you aback given the fact that he looked very close to your age but you brused it off, deciding to give him a chance since it had been so long since anyone had shown any interest in you.

“Wait, so if you play in a rock band you must like rock music, right?” Your face lit up with excitment, you had finally found someone who liked the same music as you.

“Yeah, I love it” He said after he took a sip of his pepsi

“Do you have a favorite band?” You asked, curious on what his answer was gonna be

“Uhh, I don’t really have a favorite at this moment, but I used to really like Operation Ivy, if you know who they ar-”

You had cut him off with a gasp once you had registered what he said

“No. Way.” You said a little dramatic.

“I loved them all throughout high school! I used to be so bummed that I couldn’t see them live because when I had started listening, they were already broken up” You pouted, remembering the teenage version of you complaining to your parents about how sad you were about that.

“ What’s your favorite song by them?” He asked

“Oh, that’s a hard one” You paused, your brain flipping through all the Operation Ivy songs you know, trying to pick just one.

“Um, I’m gonna have to go with “Knowledge”.” You replied and his jaw dropped.

“That’s my favorite, too!”

“Nu-uh” You said in complete disbelief

“Yeah” His voice grew a little louder due to excitment which caused the couple next to us to give us dirty looks once again.

“That’s truly insane, I’ve never met anyone who had even heard of them, I thought I was the only one” You said while stirring the ice around in your cup with the straw.

“Well, now you’ve got me”

You looked up at him through your lashes, his response making you blush

“I’m glad about that” You smiled before finding a new topic to talk about.

After what felt like forever, the food had finally came, and the two of you spent the next almost 2 hours learning more about each other, laughing, and eating.

Soon, the sound of a chair scooting across the floor had caught your attention and you watched as the couple (who was dressed way fancier than the both of you) put on their jackets to go. The woman who was there looked over at you and the two of you made eye contact. Instead of breaking it, you smiled and waved at her, all she did was look at you like you were trash and rolled her eyes which caused you to gasp.

“What?” Billie asked, looking in the same direction as you were, making it very obvious that the both of you were looking at them. You lightly tapped his hand so his attention would turn to you.

“I smiled at her and she rolled her eyes” You laughed at it, finding it more funny than offensive.

“Oh, shit, for real?” He whispered before turning back over to them and watched as they made their way to the exit.

You saw as the man talked to the lady who had led you to the table earlier and pointed over to us while saying something that you couldn’t make out.

“Oh, shit” You whispered, sinking into your seat a little when you saw that the lady was coming towards your table.

“Are you enjoying your dinners?” She asked

“Yeah” You both said at the same time, then smiling at each other.

“Well, I just got a complaint from a couple that was next to you two and they were saying how you guys were being too loud and it made them uncomfortable. So, if you could keep it down, that would be highly appreciated.” She smiled

Both you and Billie smiled at each other before he spoke up.

“I’m sorry about that. I guess we got too deep in conversation to notice” He smiled at the woman

“It’s okay, just remember that they’re others trying to eat here” She smiled back and left.

Not very long after she turned around, the both of you started laughing once again, this time is was quieter so you wouldn’t get a complaint again.

“You wanna get outta here?” He asked after the laughter died down and you nodded.

Billie looked around to see if he could spot the waitress, thankfully she wasn’t far, only a couple tables down. So the two of you talked until she walked by and she asked if everything was going alright.

“Yeah, everything is great. Can we get the bill?” He asked, she nodded and left.

Once she turned with the bill, she took the plates and bid us “goodnight”

You grabbed the bill before he could and your eyes widened as you looked at the price.

“How much is it?” He whispered for unknown reasons

“200″

“Oh, that’s not that bad” He said while reaching in his back pocket and pulling out a wallet

“Yeah, but we didn’t even get anything that fancy. I bet if we would’ve went to Applebee’s and got everything we got here, it would be like $60″

He laughed at what you said before speaking

“That’s what happens when you go to fancy resturants, babe, shit’s expensive”

Your heart stopped for a split second due to the pet name he had thrown in ever so casually.

You are cool with me calling you that, right?” He made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable which you thought it was the cutest thing ever.

You nodded in agreement before clearing your throat

“Yeah, t-that’s cool with me” You smiled which he mirrored.

Only a few seconds later, Billie stood up and walked over to where you were sitting

“Shall we?” He asked, extending his arm out in front of you.

“We shall” You giggled as you took his hand and stood up.

The two of you started walking towards the front of the resturant and you smiled to yourself, happy that this date had gone very well.

The two of you talked about random things until you got to your car.

“This is me” You stopped walking and stood in front of the car.

“Well, actually I was wondering if you wanted to come back with me” He said but it sounded more like a question

“Sorry, Billie, I don’t do hook ups on the first date.” You frowned

“But if you give me your number, I’d be more than happy to go on a second date with you” You smiled

“Wait, really? I didn’t completely fuck this date up?”

“What? No, what makes you think you fucked up”

“We almost got kicked out of a top notch resturant”

“But we didn’t, plus that wasn’t just your fault, I was being loud, too, y’know” You reminded him and he nodded.

You pulled out your phone, unlocked it, went to contacts, and handed him the phone.

“Here, put your number in and we can plan another date later”

You blushed as his hand brushed over yours when he took your phone

“I really had fun tonight” You after a few seconds of silence.

He looked at you but his head was still down

“Me too” He smiled at you which made your heart melt

“How ‘bout next time we go to Applebee’s since you love it so much” He joked before giving you your phone back.

Without looking, you put it back in your purse that was on top of your car.

“Believe it or not, I’m actually not a huge fan of going out” You said

“No?” You could hear the sarcasm in his voice which caused you to laugh a little.

“Mhm” You hummed in response.

“So, then what do you have in mind?”

“I have this old stereo with a bunch of old cassette tapes that are all the rock albums I used to listen to. So I was thinking, y’know, me, you, a stereo, and maybe chinese food or something?” You chewed on your lip, hoping the plan didn’t sound dumb.

“I got Operation Ivy” You said, your voice filled with hope.

“Text me the time and your address and I’m there, baby” He winked

God, he was gonna drive you insane. You stood there for a few seconds, the both of you just looking at each other before you cleared your throat.

“I should probably get going before Y/F/N starts to worry, I’m never out this late.”

He smiled at you before looking down at his watch

“It’s only 10:30″

“I told you already, I dont go out a lot” You remarked

"Well, I'll see you soon?" He asked

"Of course" You said in an obvious tone.

"Okay, have a good night, Y/N. Text me when you get home?"

You nodded in response.

"You too, Billie"

"Well, you don't have to text me when you get home because you won't have my number until I text you so even if you wanted to text me, you wouldn't be able to a-"

You were cut off by Billie kissing you, it shocked you at first, but you couldn't help but kiss back. The kiss was soft and passionate and only lasted a couple seconds before Billie pulled back.

"I'm sorry, you were ranting"

"No, don't apologize, I liked it" You bit your lip, trying not to smile too big.

All he did was laugh, before he put his hands in his front pocket.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He smiled at you before turning around to walk away.

"Goodnight, Billie"

He turned back, smiled, and waved before turning back to walk to his car.

You silently freaked out right then and there, Your first date in almost 3 years went amazing. You calmed yourself down by taking a deep breath before grabbing your purse and walking to your car door. You were looking through your purse for your keys when your phone went off. Opening it, the first thing you saw was the new contact that had been recently added and was titled "Billie <3".

You smiled before whispering to yourself

"I think I'm in love"

#HOLY FUCK I WENT THRU HELL TO WRITE THIS #idk how to feel about it tbh #i had one idea and it got mixed up in the process so now its this #uh #slay?#billie joe armstrong #green day #billie joe armstrong imagines #billie joe armstrong x reader #punk #rock #90s #american idiot #idk what else to put #slay

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astoriawritings · 6 months ago

Text

Anybody interested in a David Bowie or a Green Day rp? I am looking for something casual and I don't demand much. One sentence replies are okay from time to time. Preferably long-term since I can reply once or twice a day. Pm me :)

#david bowie #green day #david bowie x reader #billie joe armstrong x reader

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ilongfor-the-arts · 2 years ago

Note

can i request a billie joe Armstrong smut? maybe where reader is a virgin and she’s over it. she manages to talk her way backstage, where she meets him, and he’s happy to help her out??

I Saw You Staring

Pairing: Billie Joe Armstrong x virgin fem! Reader

Warnings: language, smut, unprotected sex, very VERY mild degradation, loss of virginity, oral (f receiving)

Summary: *in request*

Word Count: 5.4k

“Y/N, why do you have to be so negative? It’ll be an interesting experience at the very least!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Why don't you just go by yourself?”

My friend stumbled over to my side of the bed, where she sat on her knees and gave me a scathing look. We have discussed this subject extensively in the past. No matter how many times I questioned her, her response remained the same.

“Because I don’t want to go by myself! Who knows what’ll happen! I need a friend to go with me!”

I just wanted to enjoy the movie. I had no desire to humor my friend by pretending to consider her offer only to turn it down again.

I was sick of this conversation.

“It’s not my fault your date canceled on you! Don’t drag me into this! Go by yourself or don’t go at all!”

I whipped my head around to focus on the movie, doing my best to drown her out. My friend wouldn't give up, though, so she persisted. She was a woman with a mission.

“Oh come onnnnn Y/N! What on earth do you have against Green Day?”

She clung to my arm. I shook her off, annoyed. I never considered myself to be a pessimist, but if she mentioned the Green Day concert just one more time, I might just be tempted to slap her.

“I don’t have anything against Green Day! I just would rather not spend my Friday night being thrown around in a mosh pit while listening to a band I don’t really care for!”

I wouldn’t be able to count on both my fingers how many times I’ve heard about this concert.

“Oh come on, Y/N!”

She exclaimed, beseeching me to give in.

I didn’t cave.

She leaned in close, and the warmth of her breath made me shiver.

“Maybe you’ll find a cute boy.”

I groaned, shoving her off of me. I didn't cast her a sidelong glance. She was more likely to change the subject of the conversation the less she thought I cared.

I shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’ll happen when it happens.”

I made an effort to change the subject. It would be more interesting to talk about my previous relationships than the idiotic Green Day concert.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you died a virgin.”

When I finally met her cunning gaze, I knit my brow.

“What do you mean by that?”

I inquired. My friend shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m just saying it almost feels like you don’t want to do it.”

I scoffed in disbelief.

“What makes you think that?”

My friend sat cross legged on the bed, staring at the television. She was attempting to act casually, as if to broach the subject of relationships without shocking my naive and impressionable mind.

“You’re a pretty young girl with a nice personality, Y/N. If you were really worried about dying a virgin you would’ve bit the bullet and done it with some moderately nice and moderately attractive guy.”

I ran my tongue along my dry bottom lip.

“Well, it's not that I don’t want to do it, I just want my first time to be a memorable experience.”

My friend laughed loudly, piercing the relaxed atmosphere with her chuckle.

“Alright Y/N, whatever you say... But don’t you think you should be a little more experienced for your future prince charming?”

My friend wasn't entirely off base. It certainly wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a few tricks under my belt.

My eyes watched the film but failed to fully process what was being shown on screen as it dragged on.

My stomach flipped.

I could do it.

Nothing was stopping me.

“I mean…”

I bit my bottom lip.

Jesus, she was going to be absolutely floored by what I was about to say.

I've been rebuffing offers to attend her pointless Green Day concert for the past week.

And here I was about to take her up on it just to get some random guy's attention.

“Do you think there will be hot guys at the concert?”

My friend whipped her head around, her eyes beaming with unadulterated delight.

“Yes! Yes, most definitely! Does that mean you’re going?”

I shrugged.

“I guess so.”

My friend sprung upon me, exclaiming incoherent praise about how proud she was of me.

I wasn’t listening.

I was mentally preparing myself for what was to come.

I spun around in front of the large mirror, assessing my outfit.

Was it enticing enough?

It was just a plain black dress. To be fair, it did hug my body beautifully, highlighting all of my curves.

But would it really pique a guy's interest?

Maybe I needed something flashy, something that would stand out for miles. Something that screamed “give me attention!”

No, then it may have the opposite effect.

Should I not wear panties?

I already decided against wearing a bra, as the dress did enough to keep me covered and secure.

If I was in an intimate situation being completely barren under my dress would certainly be a turn on.

But I decided against the idea. I didn’t want to be worried about accidentally flashing someone while searching for a hot date.

“Y/N! How long does it take you to get your ass dressed!”

My friend screamed up the stairs.

Jesus, I suppose this will do.

“I’m coming!”

I yelled back.

The concert was completely sold out. The moment I stepped into the crowded auditorium, I felt claustrophobic.

How was I supposed to stand out among hundreds of other people?

My plan suddenly didn't seem so feasible. I began to lose hope as sweaty bodies pressed against me from all sides, the uncomfortableness draining my good spirits.

My friend noticed my sunken face, and quickly attempted to alleviate my sadness.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m sure someone in this crowd is staring at you. You look really hot.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Think this dress is enough?”

My friend scoffed loudly as if I was behaving totally irrationally.

“It’s more than enough! You look fucking gorgeous!”

I smiled, my mentality growing slightly more optimistic.

“Thanks a lot. I’m sure I’ll find someone.”

My friend opened her mouth to speak just as the lights began to dim.

“Oh shit! It’s starting!”

She exclaimed, her gaze refocusing on the barren stage. Everything was quiet for a moment before the deafening sound of an electric guitar shook the walls.

The band members began to come out and…

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Hey! Why didn’t you tell me the leader singer was hot as fuck!”

I shouted to my friend over the din of punk rock music. She had a giant smile on her face, her voice giddy with excitement.

“I don’t know! You didn’t ask! I assumed you wouldn’t be interested!”

I didn’t sing nor did I dance the entire night, despite enjoying many of the songs. I was just staring, gawking, completely taken aback by the gorgeous lead singer.

Thank God we were in the front row.

“What’s his name!”

I screamed. We were right next to the speakers, which made it difficult to communicate.

“What?”

“I said what’s his name!”

My friend chuckled loudly.

“His name is Billie Joe Armstrong!”

The way he moved made me so… wet.

Jesus.

Jesus Christ.

How come the one guy I was interested in just so happened to be the most unattainable man in the entire stadium.

He met my gaze.

Shit!

My heart stopped.

He smirked.

He fucking smirked!

“Did he just smirk at you!”

My friend asked. But I didn’t answer. I was deep within my own mind, already imagining the crazy amount of trouble I’d get into later.

I ran through the crowds, looking for one man and one man only. I knew this was crazy, completely crazy. But I’d be so angry with myself if I didn’t at least try.

Two burly, bald security guards stood by the door that led backstage.

Fuck.

This was definitely a problem.

I should just give up and go home.

But I wasn’t about to give up so easily.

I swallowed, taking a deep breath to regain my composure.

“You can do this Y/N.”

I whispered to myself.

I put on my best sexy groupie demeanor and sauntered over to the two men. I hope I looked sexy and not like a total idiot.

“Hey you two.”

The two men stared down at me, their muscles bulging menacingly. I sounded surprisingly calm, my voice didn’t quiver as I spoke.

Thank God.

“Billie’s expecting me. Why don’t you guys move aside for me.”

I flashed them a sly smirk.

Their vision was obstructed by black sunglasses, faces expressionless as they stared down at me with pursed lips.

Shit.

This was going to backfire.

The man on the right pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a few numbers.

The phone looked tiny in his large hands.

Jesus, they could kill me with those fists.

“Hey boss. There’s a girl out here who says you’re expecting her.”

There was a beat of silence.

My heart was beating out of my chest.

I was dead.

I was so fucking dead.

“She’s…”

He looked me up and down.

“She’s wearing a black dress, high top converse.”

Another beat of silence.

“Alright, I’ll send her in.”

No way.

No fucking way.

Sighing deeply, the man slid his phone back into his pocket. He fully expected Billie to direct him to take me away.

“Alright little lady, I’ll let you through.”

I gave him a sensual wink as I ran my tongue over my top teeth.

That seems like something a groupie would do, right?

“Thanks.”

I threw open the door, keeping my cool until it closed and completely obscured me from the men's gaze. I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my hand on my chest.

“Jesus Christ that could’ve ended badly.”

My head fell forward, eyes closing to relax my racing heart.

“Hey baby!”

My eyes shot open. At the end of the dark hallway was the man I’d been thirsting over for the past three hours. He was smug, hands stuffed in his pockets. The dim glow of the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling made him appear eerie.

“Black dress, high top converse. I figured it was you.”

He confidently strode forward, quickly closing the gap between us.

“So, what can I do you for?”

His eyeliner was smudged, his face was caked in sweat that glimmered in the pale light, and his black hair was extremely disheveled.

He looked badass, like a fucking rockstar.

“Um…”

Jesus I was gonna sound like a fucking idiot.

But, what was the worst that could happen? He’d probably kick me to the curb tonight. Whether it’d be before sex or after sex depended on how comfortable he was with my request.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“This is probably gonna sound completely crazy.”

Billie shrugged.

“I’ve heard a lot of crazy shit.”

I exhaled.

“I’m a fucking desperate adult virgin.”

I expected him to flinch or summon security to escort me out of the building. But he just stared, his small smile on his lips unaffected by my confession.

“So, what I’m getting at is that you want me to take your virginity.”

His tone seemed slightly sarcastic.

Oh God, he was gonna laugh at me.

“I know it sounds stupid and crazy. If you say no I’ll leave right now no questions asked.”

Billie chuckled.

“I’ve done way crazier shit… come on, let’s go to my dressing room and have a chat.”

The way he emphasized the word chat indicated that he had something up his sleeve that didn’t include chatting.

He indicated his right. I cocked my head. Among the gray walls, a small black door stood out.

There was still time to back out.

Hell no, I wasn’t fucking backing out.

I strode confidently to the door, opening it and passing through the threshold.

His dressing room was modest. The only items were a red couch, cluttered counters along the back wall, and a full-length mirror to my left.

The lock clicked into place.

The walls felt like they were closing in on me, the room shrinking as my heartbeat quickened to match the intense anxiety coursing through my veins.

The room was becoming smaller.

Was it always this hot?

I ran my finger under the collar of my t-shirt in the hopes of exposing more of my hot skin to the cool air.

“I bet you didn’t expect your night to end like this.”

I swiveled my head around, my body following until I was facing him. I dropped my hand, crossing my arms over my chest to hopefully sway his eyes from perceiving my nervousness. Billie leaned his shoulder against the door frame, his hip cocked to the side.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I went to this concert in hopes of getting laid.”

We laughed softly in unison, the muffled bustle of people practically nonexistent in the closed confines of the dressing room.

“Kick off your shoes and stay a while.”

He stated smugly. I did as I was told, bending down to untie my converse and kicking them to the side haphazardly. Billie followed suit, taking care to draw out his movements to heighten the suspense of the situation.

“I like you… you’re different.”

Billie seemed approachable for a super famous rockstar. He was smug, but not arrogant. He had a soft exterior.

“What? You mean like… different than your other groupies?”

Billie used his own weight to push himself off the wall. He began striding confidently towards me, hands stuffed in his front pockets.

“No, just different.”

He continued to walk forward. I wasn’t nervous at the idea of having sex with possibly one of the most attractive and approachable men I’ve ever met.

I was nervous about the unknown.

I was nervous about what was to come when he slipped his hands under my shirt.

“You barely know me.”

Billie came to a halt as his deft fingers found his collar. He gradually undid the top three buttons, revealing a few more inches of his pale chest. My gaze was drawn to his newly exposed skin, the simple action sending a spark of pleasure to my core. I traced my wet tongue along my chapped bottom lip, already feeling myself grow wet at the mere idea of getting hot and heavy with Billie.

Only my virgin ass would become hot and bothered by seeing a few inches of a guy’s chest.

Jesus, if I had this reaction to seeing a small fragment of his torso I hate to imagine my body’s response when he removes his pants.

I just prayed it was the intimacy of the situation that affected me more than his slow and sensual actions.

“Well…”

Billie's voice faded as his rough palm cupped my cheek, forcing my gaze to shift away from his shirt collar. The proximity of our chests generated sexual electricity between us. I was being drawn towards him by an unseen force. But my fear of the unfamiliarity of the predicament held me back.

His intense gaze made my knees weak with anticipation. I dug my nails into my forearms, my cheeks flushing hot.

“We should get to know each other a little better.”

Billie cocked his head to the side, his lips ghosting over mine.

My stomach flipped.

My nerves were set on fire by his hot breath. I closed my eyes, wanting to close the gap and taste him on my tongue. But I held back, allowing him to be the leader and exploit my vulnerability.

The blood rushed from my face to my core as he pressed his lips to mine, leaving my skin hot and my insides cold. My arms relaxed, hands tangling in his short black hair as I groaned involuntarily against his mouth.

Billies surprisingly large hands moved down my chest, halting to cup my tender breasts through my clothing. The heel of his open palm brushed against my sensitive nipples, the buds hardening into peaks under his heavy touch.

I moaned loudly, parting my lips further and inviting his tongue to push between my lips. Our tongues began clashing, the kiss transforming into a heated battle as our teeth clashed. Heavy gasps of air were blown from our nostrils, Billie’s hands moving further downwards to grip my hips. He rocked my pelvis against his growing erection, the warmth of his excitement radiating through multiple layers of clothes. His cock was halfway soft, yet it was prominent against my covered mound.

Jesus, he was bigger than I anticipated and he was still fully clothed.

This newly discovered fact made my brain hazy with desire. I wasn’t thinking straight anymore, the need to be fucked overwhelming any rational idea that crossed my brain. My open palms began to travel down his body, fingers desperately grasping at anything I could get my hands on.

My touch discovered his belt. I snagged a finger into the leather, yanking him impossibly closer to me.

“P-please.”

I whispered softly against his gloriously plush lips. Billie smirked into the kiss, delighted that he had a profound effect on me.

“Please what?”

I gulped. Billie began walking forward, pushing me backwards until my knees came into contact with the couch. He released my hips as I thudded against the cushions. Billie glared at me, and I cocked my head back to meet his gaze. His intense eyes made me clench my thighs together in an attempt to gain friction for my now throbbing cunt.

“Please what?”

He repeated himself.

His tender grasp cupped my cheek and sensually held my face. His thumb dragged along my bottom lip, his fingertip lightly grazing over my plush mouth. My hands began to shake, so I stuffed them under my thighs.

“Please fuck me.”

I murmured, my tongue failing to follow my brain's commands after that mouth watering kiss.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

To regain my composure, I swallowed, a large lump forming inside my throat.

“I said please fuck me.”

Thank God, my mouth was at least somewhat working in my favor. Billie drew my bottom lip downward before releasing it, my lip snapping back to its original place. He smirked devilishly.

“Can I taste you first?”

Billie’s honeyed tone dripped from his lush mouth and traveled straight to my core. I pursed my lips, shifting my pelvis to hopefully relieve the painful throbbing between my thighs.

“Yes…”

I whispered, nodding my head vigorously. Billie chuckled lowly at my desperation.

“Needy, are we?”

He began to shrink until he was on his knees in front of me, placing his calloused open palms on my thighs to pry my legs open. I forced my muscles to relax in order to make the process easier for him.

I was now wishing I had gone with my original plan of not wearing panties.

Billie's palms trailed upwards, grazing over my smooth skin until he reached the soft flesh of my hips. He grasped the sides of my panties with both of his hands, tugging them downwards. I lifted my legs ever so slightly off the couch, watching intently as he removed the soaked fabric from my body. He tossed my panties to the side, his hungry eyes landing on my now exposed cunt.

My distress obscured any potential feelings of insecurity that raced through my mind. I drew my hands from beneath my thighs, reaching forward to tangle my fingers in Billie's short hair.

“Please… do something.”

I begged.

Billie, thankfully, didn't hesitate to throw my knees over his shoulders and pull me to the edge of the couch. My dress bunched up around my hips, allowing Billie easy access to bury his face between my legs.

He began kissing along my sensitive inner thighs, every pulse of my cunt setting my body ablaze with hot desire.

“Just relax baby, I promise I’ll make you feel really good.”

It was extremely hard to “just relax” when his mouth was mere inches from where I wanted him most. Defeated, I allowed my head to fall onto the back of the couch. The tender kisses do little to quell the now painful throbbing.

I traced the cracks on the white ceiling, gritting my teeth to distract my brain from the edging. When Billie noticed that I was losing passion for the current predicament, he quickly licked a long stripe between my folds, the tip of his tongue grazing over my swollen clit. I bucked my hips against his mouth, my thighs crushing his head between my legs as my breath hitched loudly in my throat. I groaned, my eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck!”

I exclaimed, Billie’s tongue expertly flicking my bundle of nerves, waves of pleasure coursing through my veins.

“Jesus baby, you’re so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Billie hollowed his cheeks to increase the suction on my swollen bud, my pelvis grinding against his face.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. Your pretty little pussy is gonna feel so sweet wrapped around my cock.”

I knit my brow in pleasure, my hand turning white knuckled as I increased the intensity of my grip, pulling loose strands of hair from his scalp. His painted nails dug into my plush thighs, holding my hips in place.

“Ohhh fuck. That feels so good.”

I could feel warm liquid pooling in my lower abdomen. I was close, very close, but I needed an extra push in order to reach my long awaited release.

“Billie?”

“Yes.”

He mumbled rapidly against my core, the vibrations of his throat bouncing around my insides. I moaned shakily, my train of thought falling off a cliff.

“Yes baby? What do you want? Tell me.”

Oh, right.

“Can you… can you use your fingers please?”

My words tumbled out of my mouth in a frenzied mess. Frankly, I’m surprised he was able to pick up on my request due to the rushed nature of my voice. Billie smirked against my cunt.

“Yes I can baby. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

He released his death grip on my thighs, his dull nails leaving red crescent shaped wounds in their wake. Billie trailed one hand towards my core, two fingertips prodding teasingly at my wet entrance. I utilized my newly granted freedom to buck my hips forward against his fingers.

Billie retracted his fingers a few inches, the movements of his mouth halting. I groaned at the sudden loss of contact.

“Please.”

I gulped.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

Billie began to move his tongue lazily against my clit, slowly reaching his previous pace.

“Sorry baby.”

He slipped two fingers into me, thrusting them slowly against my spongy walls. My entire body convulsed, back arching off the couch in response to the in-sync movements of both his fingers and his warm mouth. I was soon reduced to a moaning mess, my body rushing towards an unstoppable orgasm.

“Billie… I’m gonna cum.”

Billie inserted another finger, stretching my walls further.

“Please cum on my mouth baby girl. I wanna taste you.”

He hollowed his cheeks once more, the suction increasing tenfold. Billie’s pace was becoming merciless, his intense actions traveling straight to the growing pool of liquid inside my lower abdomen. I trapped my lower lip under my top teeth to muffle the moans ripping through my body and piercing the quiet atmosphere of the dressing room.

With one final thrust of his calloused fingertips against my walls, I released on his face, the tension leaving my body in a sudden wave.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good.”

My chest heaved as I regained my composure, Billie lazily drinking in my juices, his fingers resting inside of me.

“You ready for me to fuck you now?”

My eyelids fluttered open, my retinas taking a moment to adjust to the soft light.

Was I ready now?

I had been ready this entire night!

I swung my head forward, growing wet once more at the image of Billie’s face buried between my thighs. He retracted his mouth from my core once he was satisfied, lightly setting my shaking legs back down onto the couch.

He pulled his fingers from my wet walls, leaving me feeling empty and hungry for more. My jaw dropped as Billie brought his cum soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth erotically while igniting intense eye contact. The area around his mouth was wet with my juices, the damp skin glistening in the soft fluorescent lights.

He pulled his digits from his mouth with a soft pop, bringing his hands to the buttons on his shirt. My gaze followed his fingers as he exposed more of his skin for my eyes to take in. Tendons bulged from Billie’s ink-covered forearms as he hurriedly undid the numerous buttons.

Jesus, I never knew tattoos could turn me on this much.

My entire body stopped functioning when he exposed his dark happy trail.

I couldn’t breathe, my internal organs weren’t cooperating. I could only stare in utter disbelief.

Shit, was this really happening?

I expected to wake up at any moment with my panties soaked and my cunt throbbing.

This was a wet dream.

No way was I about to lose my virginity to fucking Billie Joe Armstrong.

“You wanna take off your dress? Or are you gonna keep gawking?”

My gaze snapped back to his eyes, cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment. I removed my socks first before extending my arms behind my head, only to realize the zipper was barely out of my reach.

“Could-could you do it?”

Billie scoffed, standing to his full height.

“Sure… come here baby.”

He motioned with his index finger for me to come hither and stand before him. I gulped before rising on shaky knees, hands at my sides. Billie cocked his head sideways.

“Turn around.”

He demanded, his tone light and playful. I turned to face the back wall, my eyes glazing over the various clutter on the counters. Billie's hot fingertips grazed over the cool skin on my back as he gradually dragged the zipper on my dress downwards.

The dress fell, pooling around my ankles. My breath caught in my throat as Billie wrapped his large hands around my breasts, kneading softly. I groaned involuntarily, his hair tickling my neck as he rested his chin atop my shoulder.

“God, I wanted to fuck you the moment I caught you staring at me in the crowd.”

I inhaled shakily.

“You’re the lead singer. What was I supposed to do? Not look at you?”

Although my words were sassy, my tone was anything but. Billie scoffed.

“There’s a difference between looking and staring. Believe me, I know.”

He placed a gentle kiss on my neck, dragging his wet tongue along my jugular. His lips came to rest against my earlobe.

“I could tell by that sleazy look in your eyes that your mind was up to no good.”

I gasped as he pinched my hardened nipples between two fingers, my head falling onto his shoulder.

“Please Billie, just fuck me already.”

He pulled my back against his front. Our bare skin collided, the cool metal of his belt buckle pressed against my lower back. I could already feel my juices dripping down my inner thighs.

“Alright baby… since you asked me so politely.”

He breathed against my earlobe, his hot breath raising goosebumps along my skin.

“Bend yourself over the couch. I wanna fuck you from the back.”

I suppose I was losing my virginity in a rather kinky manner.

Whatever, I wasn’t about to complain.

I strode forward, kneeling atop the soft cushions and leaning my torso over the back of the couch. I rested my chin on the back of my hands, waited patiently for Billie to make the next move. My exposed ass and wet cunt was on display for his gaze.

The prominent sound of a clinking belt buckle cut through the quiet anticipation.

Fuck.

Shit.

This was really happening.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t want to look back.

I knew his cock was definitely mouth watering.

But the image of his thick, rock hard cock on full display had the potential to place thoughts of doubt and fear inside my brain.

So I chose to allow the suspense to consume me.

The cushions shifted under me as a second person climbed atop the couch. His open palms dragged along my sides, the subtle touches sending a chill down my spine. He stopped to tenderly wrap his hands around my fleshy hips.

“I’ll go slow at first. Let me know if you want me to stop.”

I nodded.

“Alright.”

Billie dragged the swollen tip of his cock through my folds, eliciting a low groan from the back of my throat. I dug my nails into the couch, bracing myself for what was to come. He slowly pushed in, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

“Fuck…”

I mumbled, the insertion of his cock cursed subtle waves of pain to pulse through my stretched cunt.

“Does it feel good?”

He murmured raspily.

It did.

It hurt so good.

“Yes… it feels really fucking good.”

Billie began to rock his pelvis, pulling almost completely out before burying himself balls deep within me. This process continued slowly at first, my body moving slightly with every slow thrust.

“Fuck Billie, you’re so big.”

Billie groaned.

“If you keep talking like that sweetheart I may have to fuck you harder.”

My eyes fluttered closed. He utilized his gentle grasp on my hips to pull me back to meet his slow thrusts.

It was far too slow for me.

“Please fuck me harder… I need it.”

Billie chuckled as he began to quicken his pace.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?”

I knit my brow.

“Yes, I am.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

Billie began yanking me backwards to meet the intense snap of his hips. My body rocked with every thrust, soft groans falling from my lips every time he buried himself into my soaking cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight Y/N. I could fuck you forever.”

I wanted him to fuck me forever. This angle was perfect for him to slam into my g spot everytime he slammed into me. The wet slapping sounds of sex bounced off the thick brick walls.

It was truly erotic.

A moment ripped straight from a porn.

“Can I cum inside you baby? Would that make you happy?”

His tone was surprisingly stable, not faltering.

I admired the self control.

I scratched my nails against the couch cushions, hoping to gain some leverage. The mention of cum made me notice the tightening pinch slowly building in my lower abdomen.

“Yes, that’d make me happy. Please chin inside of me.”

Billie’s calloused fingertips found my clit, and he began rubbing soft figure eights into my swollen bundle of nerves.

I moaned loudly, the pleasure consuming me.

I was unable to form a coherent thought.

“Fuck, your pussy is so sweet. I’m gonna cum.”

His cock twitched within my spongy walls.

I was close as well.

The subdued pain made my toes curl.

It hurt so fucking good.

The gentle movements of his finger against my clit pulled the coil tighter.

“I’m gonna cum too… please keep fucking me I wanna cum on your cock.”

Billie grunted.

“Can you cum for me?”

I clenched my abdomen, his raspy tone sending me over the edge with a pornographic moan. Billie followed shortly after, his hot cum coating my walls. I was thrown into cold water, my body overcome with a sudden onset of erotic euphoria.

I could’ve cum a third time just by the sexiness of his cum filling me to the brim.

He continued to lazily thrust into me, his fingers moving slowly around my overstimulated clit.

I came down gradually, wanting to prolong this delicious feeling for as long as humanly possible.

Billie chuckled.

“You should come to our shows more often.”

He leaned in, brushing his plush lips over my earlobe.

“Maybe next time I’ll tie you up.”

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devilish696 · 2 years ago

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Easter every day

#billie joe armstrong #billie joe #billie joe armstrong x reader #billie joe x reader

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shinyrhinestones · 1 month ago

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Youthful Hearts

Part four

Series summary: Readers new around town, and therefore doesnt know the place or people. However, she ends up befriending the most chaotic people she could find.

Pairing: Billie Joe Armstrong X Fem!Reader.

Here are the other parts

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In a hurry you woke up, rushing around your small apartment. You were late for school, and hurried with brushing your teeth and hair. Putting on an outfit that you just picked up from the chair in your room.

Your cat had walked around you the whole time you were rushing around, like he was telling you to slow down and stay. By the way he was being affectionate. Streching himself up against you and making small noises.

Your pants now covered in black hairs. You were so thankful for the fact that you had been able to move into an apartment close enough to your art school. You didn't have to pay for public transport and you didn't have to wake up earlier than what you could have dreaded.

With a not so smooth start of the day you only felt more irritated when your new art project had to be very innovative. But atleast you had plenty of time for the project. Almost a month which you hoped was enough.

At your small job after school at the school library, you were stacking books back into their rightful places. It was actually a fair pay, and it was enough for you to pay your bills and to feed yourself.

You dropped a book and as you bend down to pick it up a note or some kind of paper fell out of your zip-up hoodies pocket. You picked it up and since you didn't remember putting anything into your pockets of that specific hoodie you folded it out. Your jaw fell slightly open when you realized. This was the paper you had shamefully handed to the same boy twice. The read haired guy. Well, at first blue haired boy, but that changed rather quickly within the time of knowing his face.

You put the red book back into its place after picking it up. You read the blue ink on the note, which he had added himself the second time you met. You had honestly forgotten about it. You had entered your apartment extremely fatigue, and therefore ended straight in bed. And then school took up your focus.

You caught yourself smiling at the note, as you saw it was a phone number and a name next to it:

Billie Joe Armstrong.

He put in the effort of writing his whole name, and to you that was a little silly. But maybe it was important, you didn't know how or why.

You shook your head and stuffed the note back into your pocket. You must've taken the note out of your pants and shoved it into the hoodie you wearing, cause you were doing laundry. From what you could recall.

You weren't sure if calling the number on the phone was a good idea. Maybe he was just drunk? Or he was just joking around? Wouldn't he have given his number at first if he truly wanted more contact. You were a total stranger anyway.

He didn't have your number, so in a way it was really all up to you.

You sat by your small window with your dinner for the evening. Staring out the window watching how other people's lights were either still on or getting turned off right infront of you. It was a funny thing to sneak a peak at other people's rooms, seeing how they decorated their space. Or what people on the street were doing. Simply passing by or maybe going through their mailbox. Simple everyday things.

Or maybe you'd just leave a message on his answering machine. Gosh, how a stranger could make you anxious. They dont know you well enough to not put too much thought into the way you speak or act. You put down your bowl right on to the small black table, next to your comfy space by the huge window in your big space of the living room and kitchen. You sighed deeply, and took a deep breath in before picking up the white phone. You bit your nails, staring off into the air. It rang and rang but nobody picked up. You were actually really thankful for that. You heard the beep, and started your message.

"Hey, it's the girl you helped around. You wrote down your number to me and your name. So I'm calling you now, but no reply." You chuckled at that. At yourself.

"Oh, well my name's Y/N." You managed to say quick relaxed, as you followed it by saying your number so he could call you back if he really wanted. Or he'll hear the message and ignore it, and atleast you tried.

You hung up and rested the phone between your legs, as you threw you head back onto one of your homemade pillows. You almost fell alseep until the phone shook you awake with its vibration and annoying rining tone.

You rubbed your eyes and coughed before picking the phone up.

"Hello, it's Y/N." You started. At first you heard some shuffling on the other end. Your eyebrows furrowed at that, and that's also when your tired mind realized that you didn't really get phone calls that often. Yeah, it could've been anyone calling, really. That's also when you realized a lot of your previous friends hadn't called you in a while. You frowned at that, until you heard a voice on the other end. "Hi Y/N. It's Billie." A somewhat deep voice replied. He could probably hear how you giggled at that. You played with the edge of your denim pants. "Hi Billie. You made sure to get my number?" An question you already knew the answer to but it was also just meant to be a small joke. He chuckled.

"Yeah, I mean wouldn't have given you my number otherwise." He replied. His tone was a mix of joking but also being chill at the same time.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling genuinely relieved.

"Oh yeah, you could've changed your mind."

Another huff escaped his throat. "No, I had two oppurtinities." Maybe he didn't word that perfectly, but you understood what he meant. He had two chances, two times to think about giving you his number and he ended up doing it. You smiled for a moment. "Yeah, thats true." You admitted and started tapping your own legs with your free hand.

He changed the topic to how you should come along to one of his bands gigs. That's quite an invite. But it was actually brave of him to invite a random woman to his bands performance, when a lot could go wrong with that. He explained how he'd pay for drinks after and you couldn't see the harm. You needed to get out more anyways and to gain new friendships. You accepted the invite and when you both hung up you were already planning your outfit in your head, as you fell asleep right next to your admirable view.

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A/N: next chapter things are gonna pick up but for now here's this part. Byeee <3

#fanfiction #green day #billie joe green day #billie joe armstrong #fic #my fics #fics #fanfic #fanfic writers #punk

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