#prompt: rockstar wife

[theladycarpathia]

Hellcheer Week Day two - Rockstar Wife Part 1 of 2

Writing a fic for this au didn't happen as much as I wanted it to. This was the next best thing. Not gonna lie, it's a little messy but it was super fun.

[lovebugism]

Kissing eddie just as you’re both about to get out of the car and now he’s got a problem cause he’s hard, and all your friends are waiting for you and you’re both a little late and Eddie we really gotta hurry up! what’s the issue? and the poor boy is bright red to his neck over how gone he is on you

ty for requesting :D ps: i'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure over this prompt –– when eddie's about to leave for a show, you make sure he knows exactly what he's missing out on (established relationship, st4 canon divergence, allusions to smut 18+ | 1k)

“How do I look?” Eddie wonders aloud as you trail down the creaking porch steps behind him. He plants his feet on the gravel driveway and spins on the heel of his sneaker to face you –– already bare-faced and clad in your pretty PJs for the night, a striking contrast to the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin standing before you.

You pause on the second-to-last step and reach for his face. Eddie leans instinctively into your warm touch as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, gently smudging his dark liner a bit more. 

“Like a rockstar,” you answer with a proud smile.

Eddie scrunches his nose sheepishly in response, ‘cause he has nowhere to hide with you cradling his blushing face like this. He’s still not immune to the way you look at him, even after all this time. “You’re just sayin’ that,” he mumbles, kicking a lone rock with the toe of his show.

You hum in agreement as your hands fall from his face. “Yeah. ‘Cause it’s true.”

“To you, maybe,” Eddie scoffs, trying hard to ignore the pang of anxiety in his chest. “No one else seems to think so.”

He never used to be nervous performing before Vecna tried to kill him. It was the world that was scared of Eddie Munson, not the other way around –– until it nearly ended, anyway. Now, just leaving the house is enough to induce a panic attack. A part of him is always distantly fearful that a stranger’s face will turn out to be the dark wizard’s, back to life and hiding in plain sight again.

“Hey,” you scold, only partially playful. “I think the crowd of five drunks who watch you perform every Tuesday would agree with me.”

Despite the ice-cold apprehension making his limbs feel numb, Eddie manages a breathy chuckle. “You’re right. We could bomb, and they’d still act like we were playing Madison Square Garden or something.”

You soften then, as though sensing his worry. “You’re not gonna bomb, Eds. You guys are gonna do great. Just like always.”

“Sure you can’t come?” Eddie wonders quietly, blinking up at you with a pair of chocolate button eyes that are hard to say no to.

“You know I can’t… I have an early morning tomorrow,” you coo sympathetically, fighting back a smile when the boy’s rosy bottom lip juts in a pout. “But I’ll be right here when you get back, okay? And I’ll make sure to heat up dinner when you’re on your way. So you have something to soak up the alcohol and adrenaline with.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder, squinting suspiciously when Eddie’s frown curls into a cheeky grin. He reaches for you with a pair of ringed hangs and squeezes at your clothed hips. “Just like a good little housewife, huh?” he croons mischievously.

You roll your eyes at him ‘cause you’re not a housewife by any means. 

You live in a trailer with his uncle, for one. And you work five days a week, for another. Besides, you’re not even his wife, which you think is usually the first step. (You have no idea Eddie’s already picked a ring out for you. Or that he plans on keeping that a secret until he plays enough shows to afford a house). 

You decide to humor him, anyway. 

“Sure,” you monotone with a slow nod.

Eddie’s grin widens.

“C’mon on, Munson! We’re gonna be late!” Jeff lisps from the passenger side window of the van. The rusted tin can is parked a ways down the drive, packed to the brim with all their band equipment like a perfect game of Tetris.

You lean forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Wear that dress I like when I get back?” Eddie murmurs lowly.

You hum with your lips pursed to the side of your mouth, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… I was kinda thinkin’ about wearing nothing, actually,” you answer, shrugging innocently. “You know, for easy access and whatnot.”

Eddie warms all over. His wild head starts to swim at the visual –– one he’s seen a hundred times before that he’s not quiet sure he’ll ever get over. “Have mercy…” the boy mumbles under his breath.

“Just try not to think about it too much while you’re gone…” you lilt knowingly, smoothing both your hands up and over the lapels of his leather jacket. “All alone… Naked in our bed… Trying to get myself off while I wait for you…”

Eddie stares at you with heavy, lidded eyes. He can’t take the chocolates of them off your lips as they curl into a mischievous, tightlipped smile. “How ‘bout I just stay home?” he offers lowly.

A resounding honk blares from the van in a wordless answer. 

Gareth leans out the driver’s side window, face screwed and sandy curls wild. “C’mon, Eddie!” the boy yells like an impatient younger brother. “Put your dick in your pants already so we can go!” 

Eddie’s head swivels back to face you again, chest deflating with a grieving sigh. 

“You have to go,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you press another kiss to his pout. “Have fun, honey,” you croon and step back from him –– knowing exactly what you’re doing as you trek back up the wobbly wooden porch steps.

Before you shut the front door behind you, you flash the boy a curt wave and a pretty smile. It takes a world of strength to keep from following behind you. 

In a perfect world, Eddie would already have the door bolted shut with you pressed against it by now. He’d have your oversized shirt balled up at your ribs and your shorts pulled down to your ankles and his mouth licking over your pretty cotton panties.

He shakes his head in a physical attempt to remove the sinful thoughts from his brain as he stalks back to the van. He keeps his head bowed as he goes, trying to hide his reddened cheeks behind his wild curls. Gareth watches from the window as Eddie tugs at the crotch of his jeans, trying to un-strangle his hard cock like a teenager.

The boy leans between the front seats as Eddie climbs into the driver’s side, slamming the screeching door shut behind him. “You’re pathetic,” Gareth teases through a fit of boyish laughter.

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles.

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[vapekingg]

Heyyy bestie, if you’re still looking for Eddie prompts, how about rockstar!eddie that’s like publicly obsessed with his wife, always talking bout her interviews and name dropping her in songs, and so he has gained the reputation of being a “wife guy” to all his fans.

Thank you! Shout out to my wife because I would also be Eddie "The Wife Guy" Munson if I were famous @doomsdaybby

"How are we feeling tonight, Los Angeles?" Eddie's voice is smooth and steady over the microphone that's stationed at the center of the stage.

The House of Blues. Los Angeles, California. Night eight of their second World Tour.

You and Eddie are used to the limelight. Your relationship had bloomed in it.

From the first day you met at The Hideout, to working the merch table at Corroded Coffin’s first shows, to getting engaged on stage during the encore of closing night on their first world tour.

It became sort of a thing, your romance. The higher Eddie’s band soared on the charts, the more desirable he became, the more the media swarmed you. They had questions, understandably.

Is this gonna last? Are you ever worried when Eddie’s on tour? Do you think he’s been faithful all these years?

As if you could dare to question Eddie's loyalty.

His manager had warned him to break things off with you when they first signed. Guys like him are supposed to remain available. They represent something in Hollywood. The sex, drugs, rock and roll of it all. But whenever those flashing lights started going off, he was quick to grab your hand or pull you into his ribs and fall into the roll of overprotective partner that his groupies so wish that he would abandon.

It's become sort of a thing — him name dropping you any chance he gets.

"The fans want to know, Eddie. What do you look for in a woman?" He'd recently been asked in an interview.

His eyebrows had scrunched up a bit, not understanding the question.

"I look for my wife." He'd responded with a flippant motion of his hand, as if the answer was that obvious.

You stand side-stage now. Eddie waves his arms in the air to egg the crowd on. Their screams are deafening even over the in-ear monitor that he had specially fitted for you.

"That's what I like to hear. All right, this next song goes out to my fucking wife!" He screams into the microphone.

This is the fifth song in a row that he has dedicated to you, and each time it gets the same reaction.

"Babe, this one's for you!" "Love you, sweetheart. This is our jam!" "Everyone give it up for Mrs. Fucking Munson!"

You can't hear your own laughter over the sound of the drums that begin with the strum of his guitar, but it's there. The laughter is always there.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 30: Fame and Fortune

Words: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: language

Summary: When rockstar Eddie and his actress wife go to buy a sports car, their salesman has a familiar face

@corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie didn’t think his life could get much better. He’s a Grammy Award winning rockstar in a band with his best friends, he’s married to you, a smoking hot Oscar Award winning actress, and you two have your dream life all planned out. Where you want to live, how many kids you want to have, and even what cars you want to drive.

Which leads you to a Ferrari dealership in Chicago. It’s not where you live, but if you happen to find a car you fall in love with, you have more than enough money to have it delivered to your home.

The two of you step into the pristine white building, Eddie’s hand held snugly in yours. A dealer makes his way out of the offices in the back to greet you, and you hear Eddie let out a surprised scoff. You turn your head to look at him in question, but he’s looking straight ahead at the shorter man approaching you.

“Well, long time no see,” Eddie says once the man is close enough.

The salesman looks cowed. There’s a pained pinch to his face, like Eddie is the last person he wants to see and this is the last place he wants to be.

“Welcome in,” the man says. He looks from your husband to you. “My name is Jason. What can I help you with today?”

Eddie’s hand falls from your own and he stretches his arm out and over your shoulders. A glance in his direction shows a satisfied smirk on his pretty face.

“The wife and I would like to purchase a new car. Thought we’d test drive some Ferrari’s and see if anything catches our attention.”

“Uh, sure,” Jason says, slipping his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I’ll meet you outside and we’ll take a look at some cars?”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says.

He steers you towards the side door while Jason heads toward the offices.

The shit-eating grin on your husband’s face confuses you and the moment you step outside, you question him.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“That shrimp is one Jason Carver,” he says as you wander between cars.

It takes a moment for the name to click. You skid to a stop, causing Eddie’s arm to slip from your shoulders.

“That’s the guy who was such an asshole to you in high school?”

The shock on your face only adds to Eddie’s giddiness.

“That’s him.”

“Ugh,” you groan as you start to walk through the sea of Ferrari’s again.

“Aw, baby!” It’s Eddie’s turn to come to a halt. He grabs your hands and excitedly bounces on the balls of his feet. “Can we please, please, please act like douchey rich snobs? You’re an actress, think of it as an exercise.”

You can’t help but laugh. He drops your hands and you reach up to cup his face.

“Let’s fuck with the asshole,” you agree.

By the time Jason comes out to meet you, you and Eddie have narrowed it down to two different cars you’d like to test drive: a red Ferrari and a yellow one.

Eddie slips into the driver’s seat for the test drive of the red one. As soon as he pulls out onto the main road and lets it get up to speed, he prompts you for the first bit of fake snobbery.

“What do you think, sweetheart?”

A long-suffering sigh escapes your lips as you lean back in your seat, wearing the most bored facial expression that you can manage.

“Ferraris have a reputation for speed,” you say, “but they don’t have the same level of meticulous craftsmanship found in an Aston Martin.”

Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from laughing. This act is so in contrast to your true personality last night when you found a fun sized KitKat in the bottom of your purse and were excited about it for the rest of the day.

“Ferrari’s have a more aerodynamic design than Aston Martins, which allows them to have a more aggressive and efficient performance,” Jason says from the back seat.

You don’t bother with a response, only humming a small, uninterested “mm” before turning your head to gaze out the window.

When you arrive back at the dealership, it’s your turn to get behind the wheel of the yellow sports car and Eddie’s turn to come up with obnoxious things to say.

“It’s really minimalist in here, isn’t it?” Eddie asks, inspecting the dials and buttons built into the dashboard. “You wouldn’t even know it’s a Ferrari if you didn’t look at the emblem on the steering wheel.”

“And it doesn’t ride as smoothly as the Porsche I drove in my last movie,” you add.

“Was it a prop car?” Jason asks.

You let out an offended snort.

“Absolutely not. You think I can’t tell the difference?”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant to imply,” Jason says apologetically.

It’s the closest you and Eddie come to bursting out laughing.

“Was that in the superhero movie, baby?” Eddie asks.

“Hmm? Oh no, I drove a Lamborghini in that one,” you brag. “Which also rode smoother than this.”

This time when you get back to the dealership, Jason can’t get out of the car fast enough. You and Eddie share an amused look as you trail behind him back towards the building. Something tells you that Jason is going to be getting a drink after work tonight.

“So, what did you really think, babe?” you ask Eddie quietly, slipping your arm around his waist.

“I actually really liked the red one,” he admits with a laugh. “I’d hate to give him commission on a sale, though.”

“Aww, Eds,” you coo. “But then you’ll be the bigger man.”

“True.” Eddie considers. “Eh, what the hell? Then I can also hold being the bigger person over himl.”

You can’t help but giggle. It’s not exactly what you meant, but you can hardly blame him.

[eddiesxangel]

I’m TJ, she/her, I’m 29. This is an 18+ blog, if you are a minor please do not interact. Welcome to my little corner of delulu. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Dividers by @kodaswrld

** = smut

Take Me to the Lakes camp!counsellor Eddie x camp!counsellor reader series (complete)

I don’t think we are in 1986 anymore? Eddie Munson x Reader series (ongoing?…tbd)

WILDFLOWER ** Older!Rockstar Eddie x PopPrincess!reader series (complete)

Hey Siri Play Jealous by Nick Jonas ** Bartender!Eddie x Wife Reader

Clueless **Older!Eddie x Reader

Redemption **Eddie x reader

Babydoll **Dom!Daddy Eddie x Reader

My Little Bunny older!eddie x reader for #munnysonederful prompts

Me and You? Together? Queer!Eddie x f!bff!reader

The Kissing Booth Eddie x gn!reader

You Look Tense** masseuse!eddie x reader

Downhearted** Eddie x bestfriend!reader

Eddie’s Fantasy** knight!eddie x princess!reader

Noisy Neighbours Eddie x reader x gf

Be Quiet Darling Eric AQPDO x reader

Could this be Fate? Alpha!eddie x omega!reader

I Do Believe In Fairies Eddie Munson Meet Cute

Eddie, I’m Scared Eddie x reader

Eddie’s Gift

Requests

Just Friends **Perv!Eddie x Perv!BestFriend Reader

But you don’t even like karaoke?** Virgin!Eddie x Bestfriend!Reader

Just a Pinch **Eddie x reader

What Eddie Doesn’t Know ** brothers bestfriend!Eddie x reader

What Adam Doesn’t Know part 2 brothers best friend x reader

The Sweet Days in the Shire ** Eddie x virgin!reader

The Stroke of Midnight Eddie x GN!Reader

Show Me** older!eddie x virgin!reader

Show You** virgin!eddie x reader

Baby, Im Yours** jealous!eddie x reader

Fool Me Once jerk!eddie x reader

Driver Roll Up the Partition, Please** Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

Need You Now** friends to strangers to lovers Eddie x reader

Never Have I Ever **Eddie x virgin!reader

So High School Eddie x reader

Give Me Everything **bestfriend!eddie x plus!size reader

Dilf!eddie**

Baby Make Three** older!eddie

Just Peachy** Eddie x bff reader

1-800-HOT TO GO** Eddie x friend reader (most popular)

The Nanny Eddie x baby sister reader

Angel or Devil? Sub!eddie x mean!reader

She Said Fuck Me Like I'm Famous Eddie x pop!star Reader

Christmas Theme Fics

One Direction Eras

Older!Eddie Blurb**

Rockstar!Eddie imagine **

Rockstar!Eddie imagine #2 **

Eddie x reader**

Eddie imagine**

Eddie imagine #2

Virgin!Eddie blurb #1

Virgin!Eddie #2**

Eddie x reader **

[suugarbabe]

Rockstar!Sirius Black has me in a chokehold. I’m obsessed with my wife @finalgirllx and thankful for the work she put in for me for these two edits and I hope everyone is pulling their hair out at them as much as me.

This little blurb is for my second wife @thatdammchickennugget ‘s hogmarch challenge.

Prompt: fire whiskey / are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk

Warnings: fluff; mentions of bar/drinking;

You don’t really know how you got here. At this party that is. One day your muggle friend is begging you to come to a concert with her. Two weeks later she has you sleeping on a side-walk waiting to get in. “I really want to get barricade,” she says. And you love her so you comply. When you manage to get it, you’re just as shocked as she is. Arms crossed on the bar, elbows hanging over the barricade as music plays from the speakers while everyone waits for the band to appear.

You assume it’s a four person group; you see a drum set, a keyboard, a guitar with a mic stand and a bass guitar. You’re wracking your brain for the name of the band, your friends mentioned it probably a million times in the last hour alone but you’ve been so focused on not a Avada-ing any of the other millions of girls around who seem to want to keep pushing against your back to get closer to whoever this band seems to be.

It’s when the curtain falls that your heart nearly stops. It had to be a coincidence, right? The fact that this band happens to have the same name as the infamous group of pranking boys from your school years. But all your nervous fears are confirmed when they start strolling on to the stage, you recognize the others in an instant, but the one that catches your eye most intensely slings the guitar over his shoulder, a shit eating smirk gracing his lips as his tucks his hair behind his ear.

“Blimey, what a turn out, yeah lads?” The guitarist turns slightly where he stands, glancing at his friends behind him who are all nodding and shouting, pumping their fists in the air with the screams of fans in front of them. The guitarist turns back towards the crowd, eyes scanning over the sea of people until they come to the front and lock with yours. Your friend besides you starts shaking with giddy excitement as he speaks his next words into the mic, her arm hooking with yours. But you can’t tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze, “In case any of you’ve forgotten, we’re The Marauders and-”

Being barricade had its benefits because you heard the drummer shout, “Oi, Pads, get on with it, will ya, let’s give em a show, yeah?” Sirius laughs into the mic and your thrust back to being seventeen and pining after the long haired boy at the back of your advanced potions class. “Alright, Prongs, don’t lose yer head, mate. Who’s ready to fucking rock out?” Sirius strummed his guitar and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams. The entire concert was a bit of a blur. One because you didn’t know any of their songs, but two because it seemed like any time Sirius looked towards the front of the crowd, he looked right at you, and your friends and the girls surrounding you seemed to lose their mind at the concept.

When the concert finally ended you watched your old classmates take in the cheers and praise. James threw both his drumsticks into the crowd, Remus tossed a few picks as well. Reggie stepped from behind the keyboard, taking his setlist with him and passing it to the security guard to give to a random girl. Sirius, however, seemed to have a different plan. The girls around you seemed to be panting with anticipation as Sirius took a marker from a stage hand and laid down on his stomach, pulling the cap from the marker with his teeth before writing on his setlist on the ground. Capping the pen, he pulled the setlist off the ground slowly, folding the tape over the edges before folding the setlist into fours.

What really made everyone around you go into a frenzy was Sirius jumping down from the stage and walking straight up to you at barricade and holding the paper towards you with a smile. “Here,” Sirius grabbed your wrist, placing the folded setlist into your hand, “open it when you leave the venue. Was nice seeing you again, love. S’been too long since the last time.” Sirius then turned his attention to the people around you, shaking hands and signing a few autographs but it all sounded muffled to yours ears as it seemed like all the blood was rushing to your head as you were rushing out of the crowd, you friend close behind.

“Uhm, hello? Are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” You were walking as fast as you could without sprinting, your friend hot on your heels. “Y/n/n!” You turned abruptly to face her, her stopping roughly in her tracks. “What!” You were nearly screaming before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, erm, I’m sorry. I just…I haven’t seen those guys in a long time and it was just a little…overwhelming.” Your friend nodded, the grin never leaving her face, “How do you even know them, can we open the letter now, what does it say?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the note from your pocket. Unfolding it you finally answered her questions, “We went to school together, believe it or not they were very popular and I was…well…not. I had a few classes with the others and well Sirius was…friends with some of my friends, let’s say. Honestly I didn’t even expect him to recognize me once I realized they were the band we were seeing and…” your thoughts and words seem to die on your lips as your eyes scanned the setlist in your hands, Sirius’s sloppy scrawl strewn across in black marker. Your friend raised her eyebrows impatiently, turning your hands towards her so she could see what had you at such a loss, a gasp leaving her as she did so. “Is that a fucking address…”

So maybe you did know how you got to this party, your friend begging and pleading until you agreed to go. “It’s only polite, he did invite you after all,” she had said. You knew her agenda was more so to gain an opportunity to see the boys up close, so you didn’t argue when as soon as you entered the private bar she immediately went on the hunt. You, on the other hand, went straight for a drink, or two, or four. You were working on yet another firewhiskey when a rough voice spoke your last name from behind you. Turning around, you attempted to control your blush, “Black. Long time no see.” You did your best to keep your tone casual, like your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

Per expected Sirius was nothing but charming and smooth, “I didn’t expect to see a friend in the crowd tonight, you caught me slightly off guard I have to admit.” You clasped onto your drink with both hands, hoping the coolness of the glass would offset the heat that was rapidly spreading through your body, “You consider us friends? I didn’t even think you’d recognize me.” Sirius’s gaze turned what you could only describe as tender, “I would’ve failed Advanced Charms if you hadn’t put up with me for two whole terms. If spending endless weeks in the library didn’t make us friends, what then developed between us, nothing?”

No, just my raging school girl crush on you is all. You shook your head, mouth opening and slightly stammering, no explanation coming to mind. “Pads, you’re not scaring y/n/n away are you? Gonna make us not see her for another three years again?” Sirius huffed a slightly annoyed breath, “Yeah, Moony, the reason we haven’t seen her is strictly my fault, not that our band took off or anything.” Sirius jabs a thumb over his shoulder as he glances back at you as if to say, the nerve of this guy. “She didn’t even think I’d recognize her, or considered us friends! Can you believe that?”

The taller boy greeted you with a warm and familiar smile, the scar stretching over his top lip thinning with the action, “Well I certainly don’t blame her for the latter. But we’re still friends, aren’t we, dove?” Remus took a step forward, wrapping you in a tight and friendly embrace. “Hi, Rem,” you mumbled just loud enough over the bar music. Remus was gruffly pulled away from you to reveal a pouting face with glasses and a mop of curly hair, “Not consider us friends? Did seven agonizing years of potions together mean absolutely nothing to you?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the dramatics, “Hi, Jamie. ‘ve missed you.” You open your arms for a hug and are quickly embraced in a bear-like squeeze, “Missed you too shortcake. Been too long.” A second body joins your hug from behind, “Yeah, it’s been too long.” James pushes him off before letting you go, “Whydya have to do that Reg, you ambushed my hug.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue when a throat clearing catches all of your guys' attention. You turn to see your friend clearly doing her best not to freak out at the scene before her. You turn the the boys, pushing your friend slightly in front of you, “Guys this is my friend Órlaith. She brought me to your show. Big fan, her. Órlaith, this is Reg, Jamie, Rem and Sirius.”

The four boys all flashed award winning smiles while your friend managed a meek ‘hi’ and a slight wave. “So you didn’t just have classes with them, you were friends with the fucking Marauders,” Órlaith wacked your arm, causing James and Regulus to burst out in laughter. Remus leaned in close to your friend, a hand shielding one side of his mouth while pointing a thumb back at James, “Y/n/n, here actually helped make sure this one graduated on time.” James crossed his arms in mock offense, “Is he talking shite love? Moony, don’t fill her head with lies we’ve only just met.”

Sirius slung his arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Actually, I’d like to catch up with Y/l/n. You mind if I steal her for a moment? Think you can watch these gits, keep them in line for me while I’m away?” She gave a timid nod and Sirius flashed her his knee weakening grin. Remus shot Sirius a knowing look, one you completely missed as you were too busy focusing on Sirius lacing his fingers in yours and dragging you towards a roped off section of the bar. You tried to will your palm to not be clammy as you downed the last of your drink, setting the glass on a passing table. As Sirius led you up the few steps and past the velvet rope he settled you both down at a table in the corner.

With a wave of his wrist the music and sound of the crowd disappeared. “See? A perfect silencing charm. Wouldn’t have been able to do that without your help in years past, friend,” Sirius emphasized the last word, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed slightly, eyes rolling, “Yes, I’m very proud of you. However, that hasn’t stopped the gaggle of girls staring at us.” You motioned toward at least four women you could see clearly shooting daggers your way at a private talk with the leading man. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, eyes never leaving your direction, “I don’t care about them, my focus is on you.”

Your face seemed to stay in a permanent state of blush with Sirius’s full attention solely on you. “Now tell me, sweetheart. Did you really not consider us friends all those years? I mean, I thought we were pretty close. If I recall we’ve drunkenly fallen asleep on a few couches and floors together. Who else does that besides very good friends?” You nervously summon a drink before you, taking the glass and trying to hide half your face behind it while you take a long gulp. Your eyes scan over Sirius’s face, taking in the changes, or lack thereof, from the last time you saw him.

He still has that same boyish charm, that grin the tends to sneak onto his face when he knows he’s being charming. His hair is still gorgeous, long and flowing, though maybe slightly greasier than your school years, but you’re sure that’s part of his rockstar aesthetic. His forearms now adorn multiple tattoos and from what you know of Sirius there’s probably more hidden elsewhere. He had a few more piercings now, and his jawline was more refined now that he was no longer a teenager, but what remained exactly the same was always your favorite part of him; his eyes.

Sirius always had the most captivating eyes; a deep russet brown that seemed to change with his mood and whether he was telling the truth or not. Either that or you had just spent so much time staring at him you began to figure out his tells without anyone else realizing. “You’re telling the truth, you really considered us good friends didn’t you?” Sirius laughed lightly, looking down at his lap before meeting your eyes once more, “Yes, I’m telling the truth.” You shook your head, “That wasn’t a question, it was a statement, I can tell when you’re lying. I just can’t believe you’re being serious.”

“Well I’m always Sirius, darling.” You rolled your eyes at his favorite pun, going to bring your drink back to your lips. Sirius, however, had other plans, stealing to glass from your hands and downing the rest himself. You opened your mouth to scold him but he got his words out first, “How can you – blimey, love no mixer really? Merlin’s fucking beard – how can you tell when I’m lying? I like to think I’m quite subtle at hiding the truth.” You sat up a bit straighter, tucking your legs underneath you on the couch. Normally you would never admit anything, especially not to Sirius himself, but your filter seemed to be turned off thanks to the many firewhiskey’s now running through your system.

You leaned your elbow on the back of the couch, facing Sirius now with your head resting against your fist, “Your eyes turn a shade or two darker when you’re lying. Normally they’re just this beautiful deep brown color that looks like the sun is shining directly on them, even when you’re inside and there’s not even a window in sight. But when you’re lying it’s like all the mischief you’ve got cooking in your brain is overheating and it deepens the color.” If you weren’t feeling so tipsy you probably would’ve noticed the deep blush that spread over Sirius’s cheeks. But being himself he couldn’t let you stop there, “What else have you seemed to notice over the years, huh sweet girl?”

Subconsciously you knew you’d regret it in the morning, but your ability to stop your mouth from rambling seemed to be null. “You tend to chew on your top lip when you’re concentrating, not the entire thing, just one of the corners. You did it tonight during your guitar solo, which was actually pretty fantastic. I'm very proud of you, Siri. And I only noticed you do that because it’s different from other people, usually people bite their bottom lip, but you bite your top,” Sirius touched his top lip with his fingertips as you continued, “And I know when you’re laughing just to be polite and when you’re laughing for real because your fake laugh is this polite little chuckle where you nod your head to make the other person think you’re really paying attention, but your real laugh is so much better. You throw your head back, and your hair falls from your face and it’s real hearty and deep and your smile stays bright for moments afterwards.” You let out a long sigh, your eyes keeping this distance look to them like you were recalling an exact moment for each aspect you just described. “Merlin, I was just so in…I just had the biggest crush on you back then.”

Sirius blinked a few times in disbelief, shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts because there was definitely no way he heard what he just thought he heard, “I’m sorry, love. Are you speaking parseltongue or am I really that drunk?” You scoffed slightly, “Excuse me?” Sirius quickly held his hands up in defense, “No, no! I just meant that – oh for Godric’s sake, I’m gonna muck this up I just know it–” You grabbed his wrists, effectively stopping his spiraling tangent, “Sirius!” He looked up at you, eyes meeting yours and just like you said, they looked like the sun was hitting them directly despite being in the back corner of a dark bar, “I never needed help with charms.”

Your face contorted in confusion, “Sorry, erm, what?” Sirius closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes once more, making sure you were looking back at him so you would see he was telling the truth, “I never needed help with charms, I would fuck up spells on purpose because I wanted to spend more time with you.” You shook your head, “But Remus said…”

“I lied to Moony,” Sirius cut you off, “Well, I tried to lie to him at first. I told him I was failing and I asked him to ask you to be my tutor but the bloody git knows everything, saying shit like ‘I know you’re at the top of our class Sirius meh meh meh’, so I asked him to lie for me.” You shook your head, “Why would you do that?” Sirius placed his hands on either side of your face, your hands still holding his wrists, “Because I had an insanely huge crush on you that I kept trying to deny and Moony could see it a mile away. I’m surprised you missed it with everything else you seemed to notice.” You smiled at him, a real genuine relaxed smile, then he spoke again, “Past tense probably isn’t the right usage. After seeing you tonight, I can humbly admit that all those feelings are very much still here. You believe me, don’t you?”

Sirius tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him. He widened his eyes dramatically, staring at you intensely and causing you to giggle. You squinted your eyes at him briefly, making it look like you were really studying him, “Hmm..clear as day. Yes, Siri, I believe you.” Sirius let out a long breath, “Thank merlin, because I’ve been dying to do this since I was on stage.” Sirius’s lips met yours with a gentle fervent, intensifying only when you fisted the front of his t-shirt, pulling him harder into you. You pulled apart only when you were short of breath, both panting heavily. “Remus is going to lose his mind,” Sirius chuckled, grin never leaving his face. You glanced over his shoulder, flicking your wrist and breaking the silencing charm only to be met with cheers and whistles so loud they floated over the rustle of the bar, “I think he already has, they all have.” Sirius turned, seeing his friends and bandmates making their way over. He turned back to you, a cheeky grin on his lips, “Okay, kiss me again, just once more before they get here. Once they do I just know James is gonna talk your ear off about the whole thing.” You giggled, biting your bottom lip before grasping the back of his neck, pulling his lips towards yours once more.

[milksuu]

Imagine Yone having a wife, which the rest of Heartsteel doesn't know about, I mean they never asked, and then one day he brings a child to the bands apartment. Since his wife has to work late hours and the nursery is already closed, he has to take care of their child. What would the reaction of the band be? And how would they be with children? (Also the wife is the reader since I love self indulgence with Yone)

❥ prompt: Yone never talked about his personal life. The Heartsteel gang had a few assumptions, but they were just theories. Nothing proven. Until the gang found a toddler running around the apartment. ❥ content/warnings: fluffy fluff, gang shenanigans ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel & yonexreader!gn!kid

KAYN

"What the hell is that thing!? And since when did Yone spawn anything into existence!?"

Kayn isn't used to children being within a five-foot radius of his presence. He tends to not surround himself with booger eating, snot crying, whining little crotch gremlins. Even worse, their damn parents.

Kayn's chaotic nature in public can't be stifled. And he's met his fair share of parents trying to lecture him on his behavior. He always has two words ready for such an occasion: Fuck off. And then proceeds to flash both middle fingers in the air, and laugh when the child behind the fuming parents drops their ice-cream. Absolute poetry.

This was a little different. Scratch that—a lot different. Not only does he know the damn parent (Yone) but the child has managed to infiltrate his room, and infect everything with a thousand unnamed child born diseases. He's about ready to blow a casket. Until the kid accidentally starts playing his Pentakill vinyl album on the record player. That's when he saw a rockstar be born. The way that little tyke started headbanging would put a bunch of mosh pit psycho's to shame. And the screeching? A future screamo lead-singer, easily.

An all out heavy-metal concert ensued. With Kayn rifting his guitar with the song instrumentals, and the kid jumping and screaming into a cheap cordless mic he found under his bed. When the song ended, Kayn chanted "Jump! Jump!" into the mosh-pit of one. And you don't need to tell a child to launch themselves off of anything twice. The tater-tot squealed and laughed, being caught in Kayn's hands and praised into the air for a killer performance.

From the bedroom door, an audience member leaned cooly against the frame. Clapping at the spectacle. "Dada!" The kid raised their fists higher into the air. "I'm a rwockstar!"

Yone lifted a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement. "I can see that."

"Y-Yeah. Next time, tell your kid not to barge into other people's rooms," Kayn coughed, quickly setting down the kid and patting them towards Yone. "Teach it some manners, o-or whatever. So that I don't have to deal with it."

Yone chuckled under his breath. Taking his child by the hand, he smiled. "Come with me. We should go before someone gets a little too attached."

Kayn huffed red. Slamming the door and shouting behind it, "WOULD NOT!"

APHELIOS

".........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?"

So, there was a child. An actual living, breathing one. Stumbling. Running around. Knocking things over. Yelling at the wall and ceilings like some deranged lunatic out on the city streets. What a disaster. What a nightmare. Aphelio's wasn't scared by most things; monsters, zombies, ghosts, spam mail. But children were terrifying creatures. Destructive and loud. The worst kind of combination in a singular human being. Kind of like Kayn.

He swore he broke out into a cold sweat when the child barged into his room. Not quietly at all. His heart pounded. His fingers turned cold. And his eyes trembled against his computer screen. He hoped the child would grow bored of terrorizing his room like some miniature version of Godzilla. He also hoped someone would see the calamity, take pity on him, and come to his aid. Someone like Sett.

He then heard a familiar note. He cursed himself twice. He shouldn't have left his electric portable keyboard out in the open. Aphelios turned cautiously in his chair. He swallowed hard and braced himself for a horrific sight. He thought he'd find the child bashing the keys in or trying to pluck the knobs right off. Instead, he saw a small round face filled with wonder at the sound. Carefully, the child pressed another. Smiling, delighted by the next note. Aphelio's eyes rounded. That's when he saw a little bit of himself.

It didn't take long for Apehlios to gather his spare headset and cord link. He plucked the kid up and placed him right on his lap at his desk. He was going to show this little one all the instruments in his digital toolbox. The workflow of an absolute musical genius. And they were going to make a mixed bite that would leave people speechless.

"Oh! Oh! Dat one. Dat one." The toddler tapped Aphelio's hand against his computer mouse. A few clicks and the instrument was spliced into the mix. When Aphelio's replayed the bit, the child kicked their legs back and forth, clapping their hands together. Wanting to gauge the tots overall opinion, he flipped between thumbs-up and thumbs-down. Back and forth. The little one took his hand, and kept it thumb-side-up with a cheeky grin. And they both nodded in agreement. This mix was a certified banger.

EZREAL

"Hey, guys. Has anyone seen my phone? Nevermind. Found it! Someone's totally random kid has it. Wait—HUH!?"

Ezreal doesn't mind kids so much. They could sometimes be a lot of fun. The only thing Ezreal can't handle is once a crying session starts, or a random tantrum erupts. He gets a little nervous when the meltdowns start. Because he has no freaking clue how to handle it. So for the most part, Ezreal does like kids—from a distance. Where he can smile and laugh at their antics, without having to actually deal with an emotional ticking time bomb. Kayn was bad enough already.

The other thing he can't deal with is someone messing with his phone! And unfortunately, his habit of misplacing it has caught up to him. Because now a toddler has it. Deleting and messing up his apps. Possibly trying to look for some silly game he doesn't even have installed. And if Ezreal thought he was fast, well, this kid took the crown. Call that tyke 'Lightning McQueen', because they were leaving sneaker marks on the floor.

But this game of chase had to come to an end. Ezreal caught up to the road-runner, and slipped the phone right out of those tiny fingers. Ezreal cheered himself thinking he won. Ezreal quickly figured out he was actually about to be the biggest loser. He witnessed those round eyes growing in watery magnitude. Face wrinkling with pure, unfiltered raw emotion. The hiccups increased in volume, and those puffed cheeks were getting more red by the minute.

"H-Hey! Don't cry. No, no. Shhh—Shhh! It's okay." Ezreal smacked his hands together, begging and pleading for mercy upon his sensitive soul. Ezreal sunk his top teeth into his bottom lip. He wasn't prepared for this at all. And if Yone ever found out he made his kid cry, then mostly likely, he'd make sure Ezreal was crying too (and bleeding) on the floor. Then forced to clean up his own murder scene!

A few quick taps and he knelt down with the hiccuping toddler. With the cat filter setup, Ezreal pretended to be a kitten; meowing and licking his paw and rubbing his cheeks to clean himself. The kiddo sniffed back their brimming tears, giggling when they saw they had their own whiskers and ears! After a couple of loud meows, the child hopped up and down. "Doggy next! Doggy next!" One tap and now they were puppies, barking and panting.

Many cute pictures were taken. Ezreal picked out a few and messaged them to Yone.

[Yone:] Thanks. The wife will be happy to have these. [Ezreal:] np! 😋 [Yone:] By the way. Have you finished cleaning the bathrooms? [Ezreal]:..............................................yes. 🤗 [Yone:] Finish the bathrooms. Now. Or I'll be confiscating your phone for a week.

Ezreal almost broke down in tears, falling to his knees. He was so close to having his own meltdown. Just from the sheer thought of losing his phone privilege's. Honestly, he should be off the hook for entertaining the kid and sending cute pictures. Life totally wasn't fair!

SETT

"Well, hello down there. You wanna play a game or—shoot. I didn't mean to scare ya'h off! I swear I'm a nice guy if ya'h give me a chance!"

There was no doubt about it. Sett really, really, liked children. There was something about them that brought him joy whenever they were around. All of his personal baggage and adult stress would simply melt away from a simple giggle or smile. And Sett had his fair share of babysitting other single-moms' and their children while growing up. It was one of his part-time jobs from middle to high school. All to help Ma' with paying the bills.

Unfortunately, kids didn't seem to like him too much (at first). With his overwhelming mass, they'd think he was some sort of monster. The one their parents told them would gobble them up if they didn't shower before bed. So, here he was, trying to entertain the little one. But anytime they caught sight of him, they'd cry in terror and scamper away. Sett had to think bigger. He tapped his chin a couple of times before a light bulb went off above his ears.

He laid out the scene in his room. He thanked his Ma' for one of the plushies she sent came with a tea set in the box. He went as far as to grab a few outfits and materials he stitched up as small replicas of larger projects him and K'Sante worked on. Him and the surrounding stuff toys were dressed appropriately for the most exquisite tea-party. Dress, hats, neck pearls and all!

Curiosity always got the best of any child. When the tater-tot heard the laughs and conversations, they had to sneak a peek. And once they entered the room, the child found Sett sitting on the ground, surrounded by his plushies, all served with tiny cups and plates.

"Oh! Quiet down everyone. The prince/princess has finally arrived. Mr. Chonk, please. Show our honored guest to their seat." He motioned his tea-cup to a free spot at the 'table'. The child glowed with excitement, scurrying to their designated placement. With a fancy tilt of their teacup, they took prim and proper sips of their tea. "More tea, Mr.Swett?" The toddler wiggled forward and picked up the teapot.

"Why, yes. I would love some more. Thank you." Sett raised his cup at the offer. The giggles and excitable conversation could be heard throughout the entire apartment. It wasn't long till the rest of the gang stuck their noses through a crack at the door. Opening the door, they couldn't help but burst with laughter at the display. Ezreal, of course, snapping pictures. Aphelios chuckling to himself behind his mask. Kayn roaring with laughter and tears. And K'Sante commenting on how he'd never expect some of his designed outfits would be used at a kid's tea party. "Nuh-Uh. You can't come in." The toddler hoped on their feet, pushing all of them all out the door. "Dis invitation onwy. No stinkers!"

"That's right, fellas. No stinkers." Sett laughed, raising his pinky into the air. "This is an exclusive tea-party. Better luck gettin' invited next year. Right?"

K'SANTE

"He-He. You think you have what it takes because you are Yone's kid? Show me and prove it."

K'Sante grew up with a large family. Brothers, sisters, first cousins, second cousins, the neighbors next door and their kids. Heck, even that laundromat lady his mom was friends with and her kids. Actually, just about everyone in the community. Seemed like it was always a party at his parents home. No matter the day or week, K'Sante had always dealt with a high-energy household. And when the adults pulled out the bottle of Akpeteshie, you knew it was going to be a rager. And at the kids table, K'Sante was in charge of watching over the parade of younger children.

Being a certified older sibling within his family unit, and apparently, Heartsteel as well, handling one little wasn't going to throw off his cool or cramp his style. In fact, he was more than prepared. If there was one thing he knew from growing up, kids loved to play dress up. And he had a full wardrobe of runway worthy outfits.

K'Sante busted out a long carpet down the hallway. Borrowed some plushies from Sett, and made them the audience and judges. Dimming most of the surrounded lights, the hallway bulbs illuminated the catwalk with intensity. Let the show begin!

"Higher energy! Yes, show them a 'ting or two about what fashion truly means." K'sante clapped his hands as the kiddo strutted down with dramatic sass. "That is it. Right there. Now, finish them off with the look." At the end of the carpet, the child titled their head back, and narrowed their eyes before sharply turning with a fling of the boa around their neck. K'Sante cheered, pushing one of the stuffed animals as if it passed out from sheer cut-throat fashion! He blew kisses into the air. "They can't even handle you right now. You are new, you are fresh, but also timeless. Molded by the hands of Gods. Your power is infinite."

Wardrobe changes were a must. K'Sante wasn't going to let such talent go to waste. His work of art and the tiny fashion model would display it all for the world to see. Well, the stuffed animal world, he had to remind himself. Seemed like a game of pretend was feeling like a real runway gig! And after the runway show was over, it actually wasn't truly over. K'Sante had pulled out a magazine from behind a display case. Showing the kiddo a picture of their father walking down a runway in an all black-attire event. "Dada," the kid placed a hand against the glossy page. "Supah cool."

"That's right." K'Sante said proudly, puffing his chest. "And your Dada looks cool because I am the one who designed his suite. But, I'll give him credit. He is a pretty cool guy all on his own."

an: this req was too cute to write omg. sorry if i just focused on the gang and the kid, rather than the yone x reader part you also requested. felt it was getting a bit long, and i wasn't sure if i could incorporate it well enough. very sorry about that. but don't worry! i have another yone x reader req. incoming.

[brandogenius]

POMS MASTERLIST!

[Julien Baker]

Navigate to home!

HEADCANONS:

➵ Cosy days with julien

➵ Julien x Streamer reader

➵ Attending the grammys with julien

➵ Julien x Singer reader

➵ Julien x masc grumpy reader

➵ more julien x masc reader

➵ julien x anxious reader

➵ julien x controversial younger gf!

➵ julien x rockstar! reader

➵ julien x wrestler! reader

➵ julien x teacher ! reader

➵ julien x goth / grunge ! reader

➵ julien x reader - friends to lovers

➵ julien x reader - first fight

➵ julien x short reader

➵ more julien x controversially young gf

➵ julien x reader “first I love you”

➵ julien and reader reconciling after a break

➵ julien helping reader through a depressive episode

➵ julien x reader - first time endearments

➵ julien & readers younger sibling

➵ julien x reader - birthday surprise

➵ julien x famous fashion designer

➵ julien x IT girl reader

➵ julien x masc non binary reader

➵ julien x more masc grumpy reader!

➵ julien x reader - accidental marriage

➵ julien x reader - summer sundays

➵ julien x famous author reader

➵ julien x rockstar girlfriend reader

➵ julien x taller reader

➵ julien x famous film director

➵ julien x reader - secret relationship

➵ julien x singer!reader - hard launching

➵ julien x reader - valentine’s day

➵ julien x reader - wedding

➵ julien x reader - comforting them after college

➵ julien x masc reader in a band

➵ julien x lucy x reader - poly

➵ julien x masc grumpy boxer gf

➵ julien x hotheaded!reader

➵ julien x masc reader - meeting jbs parents

➵ julien x soft! gf reader

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader hcs lore

➵ julien x photographer reader

➵ more julien x femme reader

➵ more julien x teacher reader

ONE SHOTS:

➵ julien x reader - come lay down with me

➵ julien x reader - newly wedded wife

➵ julien x reader - a failed chance

FICS:

➵ julien x reader - stranded TEASER

➵ julien x reader - ex to lovers

PROMPTS:

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader at a party

➵ julien x reader “I love you doesn’t begin to express what I feel for you.”

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - christmas tree problems

➵ julien x reader - chocolate cake

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - gotta be prepared

BLURBS:

➵ julien x reader - comforting you after unsupportive parents

➵ julien x reader - coffee shop au talk

➵ julien x reader - break up and make up

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader

➵ julien x reader - sleepless nights

➵ julien x dom masc grumpy reader

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader- the aftermath of a concert

➵ julien x gym rat masc reader

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - NO PICKLES

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - first time crying

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - a bit about readers background

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - burned dinner

➵ julien & younger!artist - comforting them through an exam

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader

➵ julien x femme reader - how they tell each other ily

➵ julien x masc grumpy reader - aquarium

[stratossphere]

ville x dad’s sex shop customer??? like he’s there and ur horny and u wanna buy something and you end up using him instead FUQAHAHA IDFRKKK

the shop owner’s son | v.v

you go shopping in kari valo’s sex store, but you get something different than what you came for.

warnings: lots of sex toy talk, smut, protected sex, inappropriate use of work time

word count: 4.5k

a/n: THIS IDEA WAS SO FUN TO WRITE hope you like it <3

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666 @d34c1

— —

You were not usually an embarrassed person. Hell, you had walked into a sex shop in the middle of the day on a Saturday when everyone you knew was out shopping, and you hadn't cared in the slightest about who saw you.

But as soon as you saw who was working the checkout, all of that confidence immediately died inside you.

You had been to this store quite a few times. Kari Valo, the owner, had a vast array of all sorts of interesting things for you to waste the leftovers of your paycheck on, and you were even on a first name basis with the man.

But, in all your times coming here, you had never seen this man. He was clearly bored, and was facing mostly away from the door while he flipped through a magazine where he was sitting in a chair behind the checkout desk. Because he wasn't paying any attention to the rest of the store, you were able to look him over, admiring him in all his long hair, eyeliner, and tattooed glory as you walked mindlessly around shelves.

That had to be Kari's rockstar older son. There was no way it wasn't. And, if it was, that was the son that Kari had multiple times offered to set you up on a date with considering his son was 'too lonely and too grumpy'. If you had known said son so fucking hot, you would've agreed with the man.

"Yell if you need help with anything." Kari's son muttered, still engrossed with his magazine as you browsed an aisle that was in the direct eye-line of the desk. You narrowed your eyes at a shelf of dildos that ranged in a rainbow of different colors, mentally trying to decide if a pink, sparkly dildo was worth 40 euros when you only had 60 to begin with.

"Do you guys have any dildos that are half off because they were like, already used or something?" That was a joke, but you mostly just asked because you wanted to hear the hot rockstar talk again. He snorted, still not looking up from his magazine.

"That would be a health code violation, so no." God, his voice was deep. As he remained focused on the page in front of him, you set a mental challenge in your head to get him to look at you. Might as well test if Kari was onto something with saying you would be a good match for his son, right? You sighed dramatically.

"Well, I don't know what I want." You said, sounding as miserable as you could manage. You grabbed the pink sparkly vibrator box off the shelf, and then grabbed a rainbow rabbit vibrator box from the shelf below it. "Which one looks prettier to you?"

When he heard your footsteps coming towards the desk, he had to look up, and you were more than pleased to see him doing a not-very-subtle double take when he laid eyes on you. You held out both boxes to him.

"Do I look more like a rainbow type of girl, or pink and sparkly?" You prompted, giving him your most coy smile as you held sex toys out in front of him for him to inspect. He was fully looking at you now, and you noted the fact that where Kari's eyes were dark blue, his son's were a shocking green. Kari's wife must've been really pretty, because their son was downright fucking delicious to look at. "Or would you recommend something else? I'm open to suggestions."

"Colors don't mean shit. Do you want a dildo, or a vibrator?" He said instead, taking both boxes from your hands and setting them down on the counter to look them over. "We also have a wide variety of anal accessories, if you're interested."

"Hey. I care about the colors." You insisted, shaking your head at him for being so uncultured while working at a sex shop before you motioned to the boxes in front of him. "Pick one."

"Considering you just asked me if you could buy a biohazard dildo for cheap, I'll pick pink and sparkly because it costs less." He finally answered dryly, tapping his fingers over the top of the dildo box as he looked up to you. "Is this your first dildo? We have care manuals."

"Oh, far from. I know the owner by name, so you could say I'm experienced." You said proudly, winking at him as you pushed the dildo box towards him. "Save that for me. I'm not sure that's what I want yet."

"I'll apologize on behalf of your owner friend's absence. His youngest son needed a ride to the airport." Kari's (older) son mused, taking the box you'd pushed towards him and sliding it to the side on the counter. You so wished you could remember what Kari had said his name was, but you were blanking. You raised an eyebrow.

"Hm. And you're the older son, aren't you?" It was still a guess, but you would've been incredibly shocked if you were wrong. And clearly you weren't, because the man in front of you chuckled.

"What gave it away?" He asked as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest where his shirt read SLAYER in flaming letters. You hadn't come in here planning on flirting with the cashier all day, but that was exactly what you were doing now as you leaned down to inspect the little trinkets on the counter so that he had a direct view down your shirt.

"He tells me all about his rockstar son. And, I hate to break it to you, but you look just like your dad." You explained, sticking out your hand across the counter. "He really wanted me to meet you at some point, so I'm Y/n, and you have to tell me your name."

"Ville." He accepted your handshake, and as he did so, you could see him shamelessly staring at your cleavage. "He wanted me to meet you, hm?"

"Yes. Personally, I think it's so that I can get a set of fresh eyes." You said decisively, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand as you shook it before you let it go and motioned to the store behind you. "I'm free all afternoon. Give me some recommendations."

You didn't need any recommendations, because if anybody knew sex toys it was you, but you weren't about to pass up the opportunity to talk sex with the gorgeous man in front of you. And he didn't look like he minded, either, because he was out of his seat as soon as the request was out of your mouth.

And holy fuck. He was clearly over 6 foot, and as he neared you, you could smell his rich cologne and the heavy bite of cigarettes. You already knew he smoked, because Kari complained about it every time Ville ended up topic of conversation, but you really liked being able to smell it on him. He clearly noticed you obviously checking him out, and all he did was let you as he motioned to a wall of assorted vibrators.

"Are you looking to put something in or keep it out?” He asked, leaning his hand against a shelf as he looked down at you with eyes that were eagerly awaiting your answer. You hummed in false thought, then shrugged.

"Both." You were definitely looking to put something in, but it certainly wasn't anything hanging on a wall. In fact, the thing you had in mind was instead now pointing at a shelf of butt plugs.

"How much does this interest you?" He asked, a hint of amusement on his face as he quizzed you. You were really glad there happened to be no one else in the store at the moment, because at this point you two did not look like you were having a normal conversation, and he seemed to be getting closer to you every time you looked away.

"Depends. Do you sell any with the cute heart-shaped jewels on the end?" You asked, grinning up at him as you played with him just to see him react. He was starting to grin now, and he let out an over-dramatically sad sigh.

"Unfortunately, we keep it pretty simple." He said, motioning vaguely to a huge black butt plug as he spoke. You also let out an over-dramatically sad sigh.

"Too bad. I like them cute." Once again, you winked at him when you said that before you turned away to look at more things that were on display. "Do you have any vibrators that are for couples?"

"Any vibrator can be for couples if you know how to use it correctly." He sounded sure of himself, and the amount of interest in his voice had dwindled at you mentioning couples. However, it wasn't gone completely, and he tsked. "Your boyfriend sent you out to buy a vibrator for both of you and isn’t paying?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." Now you were practically laying it at his feet, and you were thankful to see that he was easily picking up on the fact. You then motioned to what seemed to be an endless selection of vibrators. "Choose one for me. I can't decide."

He turned to look at the variety, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you as he crossed his arms once again and scanned around thoughtfully. You could still smell his cologne, you found yourself silently wondering if he would still smell that good with all of his clothes off. Your brain then lingered on the 'Ville with all of his clothes off' portion of your thoughts, and you didn't even notice he was holding something out to you until he spoke.

"Have you ever used one of these?" As he asked, you read the box, and you realized that he was holding one of those vibrators that slipped over your fingers. Hell, it even had 'great for partner play!' spelled out on the top of the box. You bit at your lip.

"No. Do you have somewhere where I could test it out?" You felt a little bit bad because Kari Valo was so nice and you were currently trying to get into his son's pants inside his store, but it was Kari's own fault for having such a handsome son. Ville's eyes clicked with understanding, and he glanced back towards where you knew Kari's office was behind the checkout desk.

"One second." He then handed you the box in his hand before he stepped around you, and you turned to watch as he went to the door before he flipped the 'open' sign to 'closed'. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest. When he came back, he motioned for you to follow him. "There's a lot of training against letting customers use products inside the store, but you can have a special exception."

"Oh, it's okay! I won't actually be using any products." Just as you passed the counter, you set the box down, trading it for a box of condoms that was in a display box before following right after him as he led you into the back. His grin widened considerably when he saw that, and he had the door open to the back office within a few seconds.

"Well, can I help you with something else, then?" He asked, staying in the doorway of the room as he let you in to his dad's office. His tone was low and sly, and you felt yourself getting even more aroused than you had already become at the sound. You didn't say anything, just held his gaze with eyes that told him exactly what you wanted, then watched with excitement as he took the hint before coming completely into the office and closing and locking the door behind himself.

There was only a split second in between him doing so and you closing the gap between the two of you. You had to reach up on your tiptoes, but you caught him in a kiss, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek as you kissed him hungrily. He leaned down slightly when he kissed back, his arm sliding around your waist as he slowly backed you up towards the small couch.

The couch was covered in junk and boxes, but you and Ville never stopped kissing as you haphazardly cleared enough room for Ville to sit down. You passed the box of condoms to him before beginning to undo your jeans, admiring the sight of him with kiss-bitten lips as he quickly ripped the box open.

However, his eyes were quickly back on you once you stepped out of your jeans and underwear, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip before he was pulling you down into his lap as soon as you were close enough for him to get a hold on you.

You kissed him again as you settled into straddling his lap, your arm wrapping around his neck and your fingers finding a hold gently on his hair as your free hand helped him get his belt open and his jeans undone.

"Hurry." You breathed as he fought with his zipper, your lips moving to drag against his jaw and down to his throat as you spoke. You'd gotten yourself worked up from all of the flirting, and it wasn't like you had come to a sex shop because you were feeling satiated and not at all horny. He finally managed to get the zipper open before he was pushing his jeans down, allowing his already-hard cock to spring free and up against the hem of his shirt. You felt your heart jolt in your chest at the sight, and your mouth watered. God, he really was good looking in every single place.

"Put it on." He held the condom out to you, and there was a cocky (no pun intended) look on his face as he watched you stare at his erection. You forced yourself to look away enough to get the condom from his hand, tearing the foil open as quickly as you could while his hand rested on your hip.

His smirk faltered just slightly as you rolled on the condom, the gentle swipe of your fingers on his cock making his breathing pick up just slightly as he watched you. He was clearly just as desperate as you were, and you were reveling in the fact.

"I want you." You whispered as you dipped down to kiss him again, shamelessly tasting into his mouth as you positioned his cock at your entrance before slowly beginning to slide down on him. He groaned in response, his mouth dropping into your neck to allow for his teeth to find your skin. You whimpered softly once fully seated on his cock, grinding your hips down slowly and letting one arm wrap around his neck to hold him against you. "Shit, Ville."

"Yeah, just like that." He breathed against your shoulder, his long hair tickling your neck as you began to ride him with your nails slightly dug into his shoulder. He smelled even better up close, and you found yourself having a hard time not inhaling where his head was rested against your cheek. There was something way too addictive about Ville Valo for him being someone you had just met.

As you began to find a steady pace riding his cock, his hand moved to grip your hip tightly and guide you down deeper, low groans leaving his lips with every grind of your hips. You leaned back enough for his head to leave your shoulder then, catching him in another kiss the second he had done so and immediately drawing your tongue across his lower lip. You could taste his cigarettes now, and your head was spinning at the fact.

"All I could picture was what you would look like with my cock in you the whole time you've been in here." Ville said as he began to kiss from your lips down your jaw and to your throat, his teeth nipping gently with every kiss before he was sucking gently at your collarbone. You whimpered at the thought of him doing to you what you had been doing to him as he suddenly pulled at the hem of your shirt. "Take this off."

You quickly followed his request, pulling your shirt up and over your head while his hands quickly found your bare skin as he held your hips. Your breath felt uneven and tight as his lips found your neck, sucking just slightly as he kissed from just under your jaw all the way down towards your sternum. When you felt his breath hot on your tits, you let out a stuttered gasp, only having a split second to let your brain compute before his tongue was swirling hot and slow around your sensitive nipple.

"Holy shit." Your voice was a whimper, but you really couldn't conjure up anything else to say besides that. Your body was overwhelmed by the intoxicating feeling of his every touch, and it didn't help that his hips were gently rolling up into you and thus doubling the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot where you were still riding him.

Your fingers eventually made their way into his hair, pulling on the long strands just enough to make him groan into your mouth as his head dipped back slightly against your hand. You gasped slightly when his teeth bit gently at your nipple, his eyes finding yours with wicked amusement shining in his green irises as he noticed your reaction. He was evidently having the time of his life, and he only groaned as you pulled his hair a bit harder as the tip of his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you.

"Yeah? Does that feel good?" He hummed at your continuous panting, his lips moving back up to brush heavily at your neck as he continued to fuck up into you where he was clearly getting impatient with your pacing. You only whined, tipping your head to give him every available inch of skin that you could offer as he licked and sucked at your throat.

"So good. Don't stop." You pleaded, although you weren't sure he would've stopped if the building had been burning down. His eyes continued to find yours every time he tilted his head to find a new, more sensitive spot on your neck, and it was easy to see that he was eating your reactions alive.

And it only got worse when one of his hands suddenly left your hip and then promptly slid between your legs before his fingertips were touching to your touch-starved clit. You choked on the limited air in your lungs, your hand moving from his hair to grip tightly at his slightly-sweaty shoulder as he began to rub your clit in slow circles. Your brain was far beyond mush by now, and you barely even noticed the fact that you were digging your nails deep into the skin of his shoulder.

Your hips found a new vigor at the feeling of his fingers on your clit, and your head dropped to his shoulder that you weren't holding onto as you began to chase your own high. The pleasure was only building, and with his hands on you the way that they were, you were far past desperate. You barely even knew this man past his name, and yet you had never been so overtaken by the presence of another human being in all of your life.

Once again, you found yourself thanking Kari Valo. Both for his beautiful son and for providing the couch that you were currently using very inappropriately.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum." He groaned as his head rested against yours, his fingers beginning to speed up on your clit as he clearly got closer and closer to his orgasm. You tried to respond and tell him that you were just as close as he was, but you couldn't find the words, instead just groaning against his skin as you let him take the lead.

The small office was filled with the sound of skin-on-skin and the building sounds of pleasure coming from the both of you, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock hitting deep inside of you relentlessly against the one spot that made it feel like your body was coming apart one nerve at a time. Your nails were deep in his shoulder, and although he definitely wasn't stopping you, you knew you were leaving marks that would probably become painful later on. 

At least he'd have something to remember you by.

As much as you were trying to hold off to give the appearance that you were better than falling apart the second Ville had put his hands on you, you were no such thing, and you couldn't hold it any longer. Your moans were rising to a desperate, sharp level, and you were seeing stars with every thrust of his cock. If your body hadn't been so overcome with pleasure, you wouldn't have been able to believe that this was real.

When you came, you cried out his name in an almost-sob, the added stimulation of his fingers circling your clit in tune with his thrusts making your legs shake harshly on either side of him as you rode him through your orgasm. He only continued to fuck you without slowing down, his fingers moving away from your clit and giving you a split-second moment of relief before he had both hands back on your hips to hold you down on his deep thrusts. You didn't know how much more you could take, and you had by that point gone lifeless against his chest as he chased his own high.

By the time his hips finally stuttered and you felt his grip tighten considerably on your hips before he was cumming, you were completely breathless and your legs were shaking completely beyond control. Even after his thrusts faded into slow rolls of his hips before eventually ceasing as he ran a hand up your back, you didn't move from where your cheek was resting heavily against his shoulder and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You felt as if he had drained every essence of life out of you in the best way possible.

"Shit." He mumbled out after a long moment of the both of you trying to catch your breath, his hand continuing to rub softly at your lower back. Even in your state of mindlessness, you were cursing yourself for letting so much warmth settle in your chest over the sex shop owner's son that you had just met not half an hour before.

After a little while longer, you finally pulled yourself away from his shoulder despite wanting to stay there in his arms forever, trying to keep the smile off of your face as you were met with the sight of a slightly-sweaty and blissed-out looking Ville Valo.

"You know, you could bring in a lot of business if you keep working here." You said coyly as you tucked his messy hair out of his face just because you thought you might die if you didn't let yourself touch him again. He chuckled hoarsely, a slight wince tinging his features as you slowly pulled off of his softening cock.

"When my dad finds out I closed the stop for 45 minutes to fuck his prettiest customer, he's not going to let me come back." He mused, his eyes practically devouring you as he watched you pull your underwear and jeans back on from where they had been discarded in the middle of the room. You tutted, waiting until you had your pants back on before you looked around and found a notepad and a pen amongst the mess of junk on Kari's desk.

"That's too bad. I like the pretty cashiers." You teased, writing on the notepad in blue ink as you glanced over at him to see him throwing the condom away and tucking himself back into his jeans before he had his zipper and belt done up once more. You then ripped the top page out of the notepad before turning back to Ville, who had stood back up, and pressing it into his hand. "In that case, this is for you."

Ville read over the small piece of paper with your phone number on it with a hint of a smile pulling at his lips before re-opening the office door, letting you out first before grabbing the incriminating open box of condoms that you had brought with you before following after you back into the main store.

"Oh, sorry! I'll buy those too, since I kind of wasted them." You said as you spotted the condom box in his hand, smiling sheepishly as you stopped in front of the checkout desk where the stuff you had asked Ville to put aside was still waiting. Ville just shook his head, a pleased look on his face as he reclaimed his seat behind the counter.

"Everything is free. It'll come out of my one-day paycheck." He said coolly, throwing the sparkly pink dildo that had started this all, the finger vibrator, and the condoms into a bag before sliding it across the counter in your direction. You stared at him, jaw dropped slightly at the almost-100-dollars worth of sex toys he had just gifted you.

"You don't have to..." Your brain was still a little fuzzy from him fucking you senseless less than five minutes before, so you could barely craft a response, but he didn't seem to mind. He waved your number in the air with a smirk.

"I have this, so your payment can be picking up the phone when I call." He said calmly, his eyes raking over you as he spoke. "Someone has to teach you how to use the finger vibrator, don't they?"

Your legs had already been shaky, but you were a little worried that they were going to give out right then and there. The mere thought of doing what the two of you had just done a second time had your whole body reacting against your will, and you silently surrendered to the fact that you were already ruined for a man that you had just met.

Well, to give yourself some credit, you didn't 'just meet' a lot of men that looked like Ville Valo in your everyday life, so you were giving yourself a pass.

"You really know the way to a girl's heart." You crooned, taking the bag off the counter as you watched him pick his magazine back up casually as if he hadn't just turned your entire body to jello in an office in the middle of the day.

"You have no idea." He said smoothly, leaning back in his chair as he checked you out once more with a soft grin on his face. "I'll see you soon, love."

You refrained from saying 'hell fucking yes you will' out loud, instead voicing a normal-person goodbye before you were leaving him to his magazine with thoughts of your next meeting already in your head and legs that still couldn't quite stop shaking.

[theladycarpathia]

Hellcheer Week Day Two - Rockstar Wife

Part 2

[waratah-moon]

oh my god this sounds soo good

"What were you thinking?" "To be honest, I wasn't" (Eddie does something stupid that puts both your names on every single tabloid in the city)”

“I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot.” Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Famous!Reader WC: 1.8k Warnings: set in the 90s, alcohol consumption, mentions of Pam & Tommy, lil magazine cover edit at the bottom for vibe purposes only. masterlist / send me a message 💌 / other prompt drabbles

This was not Eddie’s most sober moment. In the process of waiting for their final category to be announced at the 37th Annual Grammy Awards ceremony, he’d downed three Jack and Cokes and taken one too many shots. In his defence, they’d performed their biggest single earlier in the ceremony and he was still chasing the adrenaline high that came from a lengthy round of applause. They’d also won Best Metal Performance; not that he cared about that too much.

Corroded Coffin was no stranger to Grammy awards. They’d won two Grammys the first year they were nominated. One for Best New Artist, which was a shock to everyone as it had never been awarded to a heavy metal band before, and one for Best Metal Performance for their debut album. That had been a years ago. 

Eddie didn’t care about winning awards. To him the fun part was making the music and performing it. The only opinions that mattered to Eddie were those of the fans. And maybe some of his fellow musicians. But in the end the Grammys for the rock and metal categories were ultimately voted on by people who didn’t even understand the genres, so to Eddie their award didn’t matter. But now they were nominated for one of the big categories; Record of The Year. That meant a little more.

He felt you place your hand on his knee, it must have been bouncing because he suddenly felt it still.

“Nervous?” Your voice was quiet beneath the chatter of the theatre, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Never,” he responded, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance on his face.

“You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m always fidgeting.”

“More so than usual,” you took his hand in yours, twisting the silver signet ring you’d bought him for your one year anniversary. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. “I’m so proud of you.”

“What if we don’t win?”

“I’ll break up with you.” You saw confusion pass over his face and you laughed. “If you don’t win, you don’t win. Doesn’t change anything, Eds. You already have three Grammys, I’m not sure we even have the room for another one.”

“You’re right, the space on the mantel is saved for your Oscar.”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest warmed. You went to speak but Garret hushed you as “Record of The Year” flashed on the screen behind the stage. 

Eddie couldn’t breath as he listened to the presenters read out the nominees, his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. He gripped your hand tightly, his toes fidgeting in his shoes. Suddenly people in the seats around him sprung up, hugging and cheering each other. 

"You did it, baby," Eddie felt you kiss him quickly before Garret blindly led him through the audience.

The band made their way to the stage for the third time that night, energy buzzing around them. Garret thanked the presenters and pushed Eddie in front of the microphone for the acceptance speech. the applause died down as the crowd listened to Eddie speak.

“Uh, wow. To be honest I don’t think any of us know what to say right now. Bands like ours never win this award so none of us were expecting it. Thank you for thinking our music is good,” he went to step away from the mic when Jeff said something to him, pushing him back to centre stage. “Oh shit, yeah. We’d like to thank our manager John, Tim and Suzy at Columbia, and Joel who worked his ass off in the studio.” Eddie’s eyes were hazy but they still managed to find you in the crowd. “Finally I need to thank my favourite girl. My muse. My beautiful wife. This is your song, baby. None of it would be possible without you,” he raised the award in the air while his band members shook his shoulders and clapped him on the back.

The rest of the night was a blur. You ended up at some after party hosted by god knows who, but you spotted some familiar faces. Pamela Anderson was in the corner watching after her brand-new husband as he did the drunken rounds pestering other guests. Eddie had told you he’d never liked Tommy, but you both loved Pam. You left Eddie’s grasp as he chatted away to some producer and headed for the blonde.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” you smile.

“I could say the same for you,” Pam pulls you into a hug which you return with a squeeze. When you pull back she takes your left hand in hers and inspects it. “No ring?”

You frown, “huh?”

“You got married and you didn’t get a ring?”

Your eyes widened. What? “Married? Who said I got married?”

“Eddie… When he… wait,” she blinked, her eyes travelling from Eddie back to you. “He called you his wife in his speech, everyone’s talking about it. Honestly I’m just upset I wasn’t invited.”

You flashed back to the ceremony, trying to remember what Eddie had said but blanking on everything past him calling you his “favourite girl.”

“We didn’t get married. We’re not even engaged,” you tell her. Your eyes wandered over to Eddie who had his arm over Garret’s shoulder and was laughing at something Jeff was saying. You’d been together for three years now with them being the happiest of your life. You had no doubt that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. The two of you had talked about your future together before, both of you certain that you had one together, but he hadn’t popped the question. Yet. “Everyone’s talking about it?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m sure everyone will forget about it by tomorrow. Come on, let’s get some drinks, I have to tell you about my wedding.”

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

You woke up the next day with a headache and an answering machine full of messages. 

“Bitch you got married?!”

“Sweetie, I’ve spoken with a lawyer and we can get this annulled, please call me back when you get this message.”

“Darling, we need to talk about media strategy, the tabloids are having a field day with the shotgun wedding headline. I can get you on the Tonight Show tomorrow.”

It was past noon when Eddie sleepily entered the kitchen, oblivious to your tense state as you sat at the kitchen counter, hunched over a magazine, a half eaten muffin on the plate beside you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Did you make muffins?” His voice was muffled as his face was pressed into the crook of your neck.

“Nope. Carla dropped them off. Along with this,” you held up the cover of the magazine.

A red carpet picture of you and Eddie was splashed across the cover alongside the title: AMERICA’S SWEETHEART AND ROCK AND ROLL BAD BOY GET HITCHED.

He took the magazine from your hand, holding it closer to his face, “rock and roll? Corroded Coffin is heavy metal.”

You groaned, “that’s what you’ve taken from this? Eddie, everyone thinks we got married.”

He hummed thoughtfully, dropping the tabloid back on the counter. He broke off a piece of your muffin and tossed it in his mouth. “Not that I mind, but why do they think that?”

You spun the barstool around to face him, his hands finding purchase on your hips. “You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, thinking. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, his hair mused from sleep. “No. What did I say?”

“When you won the grammy, after you thanked everyone, you thanked me.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his thumbs stroking the skin of your hips.

“You called me your wife.”

He squinted, trying to force his words to appear in his mind but failing. “Oh.”

“What were you thinking?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t. I was drunk, baby. It must have just slipped out.”

You covered his hands on your hips with yours, eyes wide as you watched his expression. “How does that just slip out, Eds?” He was chewing his lip now, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation. “Do you think of me as your wife?”

“Want me to be honest?”

“‘Course.”

“I love you. Our entire lives are intertwined. In all the important ways, you’re already my wife.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and suddenly your face felt hot. “But you haven’t asked me.”

“Do you wanna get married?” Yes, yes, yes. 

“You have to ask me properly.”

He huffed, dropping his hands from your hips and as he kissed your forehead. “Wait here.”

As Eddie disappeared from the kitchen you allowed yourself a moment to silently scream, fanning your cheeks. You were overwhelmed; too many thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what on earth was happening. It didn’t help that there was certainly alcohol still buzzing through your system. You swallowed the rest of the coffee that was sitting on the bench and pinched your wrist in an attempt to wake yourself up. Your mind still felt cloudy.

When Eddie finally returned, your eyes fell to his hands; he was fiddling with something small and velvet. “I was planning on doing this somewhere romantic. Maybe the lookout on Mullholand, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is you and me.” He knelt down on one knee, opening the small box in his hand to flash a sparkling ring. “Baby, you’re the only person I want to go to sleep with, wake up with, spend my days with. You’re my favourite person. You’re my heart, my soul, my everything. You’re it for me, sweetheart.”

“Eds,” you felt your eyes getting wet as you watched the man you loved on his knees before you.

“Will you marry me?”

You were nodding before you got the words out, “yes, of course I will.” Your hands went to his cheeks and you leant down to kiss his lips. 

“Here, put this on before I drop it,” he took your left hand from his cheek, slipping the ring on your finger. You held your hand out, watching as the light bounced off the stone, making it sparkle. It was huge.

“Jesus christ, this weighs a ton.”

“Metal makes money, baby. Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. How long have you been hiding this?”

He pondered the question, “I bought it last year.”

“Last year? We could have been engaged since last year? You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“But now I’m your idiot.”

“You’ve always been my idiot.”

4 months later...

note: Yes, that's JLo's 2000s Ben Afleck ring bc I think it's the height of celebrity extravagant rings lol not my style but sooooo 90s/00s.

taglist: @geekyfifi @livsters @bailey1212@babyfrosty@becca-alexa @munsonology @celestialuna13 @69your-best-night-mare69 @unknowniteminthebaggingarea @micheledawn1975 @neewtmas @silky-luxe @lokis-little-fawn @starrthemushroom @eddies-puppet

[aconflagrationofmyown]

The Great Elvis & Elaine Conspiracy of ‘58

A Sarge and lil Mama fic

Summary: Elaine’s father, Mr. Phipps’, perspective on that two week engagement

Warnings: lots of talk about wifely duties, virginity and sex-ed being withheld from a bride, Elvis continuing to be a very sweet but slightly creepy fiancé if ya think too hard about it (or think at all), grinding and an untouched male orgasm resulting in ruining pants, brief, blink and you miss it mention of entrapment

Special thanks to my darling and ever so capable beta reader @prompted-wordsmith for her plotting and her editing and her killer addition sentences 🌹

Hope y’all enjoy and don’t hold back in my comments and dms, your feedback is aqua vita. And trust the process, this got you one shot closer to that wedding night fic 😈

“Who’s gonna tell her…about her…marital duties?” Mr. Phipps, alone in his truck, asked his speedometer the question that had been tormenting him ever since Elvis informed him he was gonna marry his daughter.

Mr. Phipps missed his Eleanor every day since she passed, but the days leading up to the wedding of their only child made him miss her more than ever. Elaine was as ready and molded and perfect as any mother could have hoped for in a child, steady and good, even in Eleanor’s absence. But decorum and hostess skill and tax smarts don’t prepare you for falling into bed with a rockstar. Mr. Phipps was young once, too, and hungry, dirty, uncontainable passion for his Eleanor had created Elaine, after all. He knows the drive, the spine tingling urge, the rabid hunger of a man for a woman. It shames and terrifies him to speak of it now that object of his passion is moldering in the ground. She would have known how to phrase it in lofty, gentle, tender words that would elevate so crass an act as sex into the sacred verbiage of marriage. But she was gone.

And there was never a good time for it ever since, stupid hope had led him to believe that what his daughter didn’t know would not tempt her. Now he wished she knew more, every hint he dropped to test her knowledge she passed with flying, pearly white colors of stellar virtue. And meanwhile the days passed and Elvis Presley watched her like a man possessed, large hands already entitled to holding her own whenever they were together, his smoldering eyes raking and surveying his imminent conquest—her ripe, young body.

Mr. Phipps shuddered over ham sandwiches and asked Elaine if she believed in storks. She had laughed long and hard over her lunch before rolling her eyes in bemused exasperation with her father and returning her focus back to the list of personal items to be moved to Graceland tomorrow.

“Who’s gonna tell her?” he asked his truck, pulling into the back of the groom's mansion.

This would be his girl’s place, legal and symbolic, before the week was up. She’s a clever one, his Elaine, business savvy even in the thick of romance, just as she is terribly, terribly innocent in carnality. He has a sick feeling that Elvis, like a lotta young men including Mr. Phipps himself twenty years back, finds that combination achingly delightful. That thought always kills right in its tracks his cowardly impulse to leave it to Elvis himself to tell his bride all about it.

God knows what sorta perversion that could lead to. Eleanor would kill him, he’d kill himself if he let Elvis hurt her, shame her, defile her.

But it’s a slow death as is, trying to clear his throat and think of a way to describe phalluses going into vaginas that ain’t inappropriate for a father to relay to a daughter. These attempts always end as they begin, with his daughter looking expectantly at him and offering lozenges, confused as to why he interrupts her preparations when he has nothing to say.

He thinks Divine inspiration has struck when upon pulling up to the back of Graceland he sees Mary, the hired cook who’s more family than employee, coming out to help him unload Elaine’s dishes and servingware. Eleanor’s heirlooms, famillair china pieces of no great value beyond sentimentality, but Mr. Phipps loves his daughter for the fact she moves her mama's dishes into the fully stocked mansion, solely because they were her mama’s.

Elvis had cleared a place beside Gladys’ newer collection with his own two hands, pressing kisses to Elaine’s forehead and swearing his home was her home now. The married cutlery in the drawer proved it.

Mr. Phipps couldn’t deny the boy's sincerity when it came to his feelings for Elaine. Those feelings gushed out of him in gifts and promises and tears and thanks, in petting and holding and kissing and watching and in grinding—her father suddenly squinted at Mary and the Divine thought came to him.

“Say Mary, uh, you’ve been around awhile,” he stuck his foot in his mouth and marched right on over it, “uh, do you reckon you could take Elaine under your wing? Ya know sorta, show her the ropes, fill her in on uh… womanly duties and such?”

“Why, Mr. Sam,” Mary had chided him with a large smile on her face, stacking the heirlooms lovingly, “course I will. Though I reckon that girl knows all there is to know, never seen a child so proficient in the kitchen as your daughter. Makes Mr. Elvis’s eyes pop clean outta his skull the way she handles a spatula.” Mr. Phipps did not want to think of just what went on in that wiggly boy’s head concerning his daughter in an apron and wielding such an utensil.

Mary’s voice had trailed off, a dreamy look of admiration on her face as she reminisced on Elaine’s culinary proficiency. His hint entirely misinterpreted, Mr. Phipps returned to his truck in melancholy resignation.

“Wish we could give ya a weddin’ shower, let the ladies at the church spoil ya a bit.” He had later tried this track with Elaine, too, meaning he wished they could spill the beans about the upcoming wedding so the church ladies would squawk and flutter round to give the necessary advice to the young bride.

“Oh daddy we can’t!” Elaine had dropped her fork and grabbed his hand earnestly, acting as if he’d just proposed betraying government secrets, which come to think of it was about the scale of leaking Elvis’s intention to marry, “They’ll let the papers know and that'll alert Parker an’ it’ll be a mess! Just the family, it’s gotta be just the family, and I’m alright with that.”

Family. The remaining female population of the family consisted of a sister of Eleanor’s and Minnie Mae “Dodger” Presley.

Dodger no doubt could do the job of educating the girl well enough, but Mr. Phipps was loath to bring up the subject of sex with the wizened old bird. Not so much out of embarrassment so much as a gnawing presentment that such a lady could sniff out a man’s background and inner thoughts, that she could look into his skull as if it were a crystal ball and see that he had once nearly failed his own vows and banged his secretary. He had no appetite for chancing Dodger being as intuitive as he worried she was.

So that left the aunt, Eleanor’s sister. And initially, when he asked her to talk to the girl about wifely duties, it went over shockingly well. The aunt had marched up the stairs to the girl’s room right away, and came back downstairs five minutes later, saying it was done. Mr. Phipps wanted to know what all had been covered and explained in a meager five minutes, wanted to know if Elaine had taken the lesson well or was perturbed by it.

“Brother,” she had corrected stiffly, “these are not matters for a man and woman to discuss. I told her to be good and obedient. That’s all she needs to know.”

And the aunt was right, there was nothing proper about discussing it, but somehow not discussing it and letting poor Elaine bounce into her fancy new bed on her wedding night only to have that boy roll atop her and shove himself in with no explanation struck him as equally horrible. And it kept Mr. Phipps awake at night. Someone had to tell her. Someone, he thought with a growing headache, that he had yet to find or convince or conjure up. He was running out of time to perform this miracle, too.

Elaine herself had an irksome feeling something was being kept from her. But now that her curiosity was burning and her clock was ticking, she found all avenues of knowledge thwarted. Books she went to rent raised eyebrows and she could not bear to approach the library desk and have them checked out, the prospect of returning them once known and famous as the new Mrs. Presley a very real hurtle. Similarly, asking young girlfriends or their mothers would cause chatter and later be remembered and tied together with her union to Elvis. People would talk and say he married someone unprepared, a girl and not a woman. What she did in these upcoming weeks would reflect on him for the rest of their lives, every interaction, every glutted curiosity, every blush would be recalled and documented as hints of the Great Elvis and Elaine Conspiracy of ‘58.

So she contented herself with Elvis’ assurances that they would work and his promises that he would teach her in due time. She watched the silver screens fade to black during movie kisses and had to assume the scene fading before her hinted at sleep. What else was there?

Until that “what else” arrived, she was worked off her feet to keep the wedding under wraps and shift her belongings and schedule to align with Elvis and his orbit.

And in the meantime there were his kisses.

It was right and proper to hold hands now, Elvis assured Elaine. It was permissible to let him put his arms around her. Acceptable for him to map out the curves of her hips and waist over her day dresses when he kissed her.

Kisses, oh his kisses… now, those were new, exciting, and bizarrely addicting. A large hand cradling the base of her little noggin and the other wrapped around her waist, those kisses could be gentle or fierce, but they had her melting in his arms, awakening a deeper level of that hunger she’d first tasted when he had lifted her skirts and proclaimed her perfect.

He was still sore, deeply mourning his mama and wildly veering from joy to melancholy, an emotional rollercoaster she patiently rode alongside him. His entourage were not aware of their plans as yet, but already they accepted Elaine as a feature and a staple in his life. Miss Gladys haunted that place and seemed to arm the girl with authority and wisdom.

And Elvis clung to her like a lifeline, cuddling her and taking comfort in it, wrapping his body around hers like a giant child and sure, it caused Mr. Phipps to fret when he came across their intertwined bodies on the living room floor, but nothing objectionable was ever occurring, all hands quite visible and clothing buttoned primly. It was a gentle communion and he did not have the heart or moral high ground to disrupt it.

It was a lost cause, anyway, his baby girl was gonna get plucked in mere days, and he trusted Elvis to be right about it, kind about it, wait for the proper time. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a shock to have a man stuff himself inside her if he’d held her hand first.

So, without even speaking, the men in her life came to an agreement and Elvis clung to her a little harder and longer as the days went by, standing in the kitchen, sitting on the piano bench, laying on the couch, keeping her overnight as her father slept in the armchair just to keep up appearances.

“Elvis, son, you’ll be gentle with her, won’t ya?” Mr. Phipps couldn’t help himself from pleading as Elvis flopped next to him, worn out from spinning Elaine around to the suggestive lyrics of “The Girl Can’t Help It,/She Was Made to Squeeze”.

They’ve got a nice and private little shindig going on here at the old studio, a rehearsal dinner of sorts if they had bothered with a rehearsal. There’s been finger foods and music and laughter, the happiest he’s seen Elvis since Gladys passed. The young man was back in his civvies and he’s got some of the old carefree swagger in his step. He had doted on Elaine all evening. Watching him go over across the room to kiss her bashful lips in front of the crowd of friends and family, insisting to her she was family now—it had settled the panic Mr. Phipps felt growing in him as each subsequent night had marked one day closer to giving the girl away. That calm was unsettled by then watching Elvis twirl Elaine around, at arm's length so he could fully admire her figure as she spun, a reminder of the boy’s hunger. Miracles, as it turned out, were rather hard to come by on such short notice.

Mr. Phipps had no doubt Elvis was very good at… making it good. That was hardly a secret around town. It was just that good was very different from gentleness, from patient explanations while sitting on the bed with a clueless virgin. What he needed to know was, if he was gonna be passing the buck to her virulent young husband, Elvis must know it and swear to treat her innocence as the precious thing it was, not an embarrassing oversight in her education to be disposed of quickly and savagely.

“I’m gonna worship her, sir!” Elvis had sworn in response, not wasting breath or vanity in acting offended or embarrassed by the injunction.

Elvis Presley was a good boy, and an honest boy, Mr. Phipps reminded himself. She could do much worse.

So Mr. Phipps let it rest. He comforted himself that night—when he went up to bed, leaving them together on the porch swing—he comforted himself with thoughts of young people on desert islands who knew nothing but came to understand each other by the time of their rescue, of Adam and Eve and the command to have children, the way they had figured out how left to the fog of time.

Mr. Phipps would allow Elaine’s carnal education to run the same course.

Below him on the porch swing Elvis has Elaine snug in his lap, her legs folding over his own as his feet push against the peeling porch boards to propel the bench swing to move. Back and forth, back and forth in the cozy veil of night, his large hands interlocked over her belly a steadying weight and the sway of it makes her ache strangely and wiggle atop his thighs.

When she isn’t at Graceland with him, he is here with her, his motorbike hidden in the garage and the dead honeysuckle vines draping up the porch, their screen from the outside world. It’s too cold for fireflies or cicadas, but the wind makes a tinkling choke of the swing chains and Elvis’ frozen nose sniffles softly in her ear. He has wrapped his oversized coat around them both and buttoned her up in it with him like a baby kangaroo, much to her delight. It’s a furnace in the fleece-lined haven and her legs are chilled beneath the thin fabric of her dress but neither can make a move, it would invite a chill and they just got warmed up and a little sweaty, his lips smooching her neck and his cheek pressed to hers.

Besides, despite the late hour they’ve no desire to part and Elaine is regaling him with details of her machinations to combine their lives without alerting the general public. It’s a full on special service style operation and he finds he loves this side to her more than he ever realized. Watching her run the March of Dimes was one thing, witnessing her play cat and mouse with the Colonel is hella funnier still—and alarmingly sexy. The fact she’s doing this for them, dodging, scheming, bribing and finagling all so he can have the private wedding he longed for… it hits the spot and he finds himself holding her closer, the rocking of the swing speeding up as her story progresses, a tale of lying to caterers about the need for cake at Graceland.

She had told them it was Dodger’s birthday, the day after tomorrow, and she wanted “forever and always” in icing piped to celebrate turning seventy. Elvis can’t stop his giggles which spurs her on to more dramatic tellings, and he can’t stop swinging the swing and making them rub against each other, his loose trousers strained as his throbbing cock innocuously wedges itself between the globes of her ass. Elaine can feel the thump thump thump of his heartbeat down there, matching the way hers is always bounding these days, worse when the butterflies hit her belly or his kisses melt her insides. She can feel the pulse of him down there, and there’s a funny little twitch occasionally when his feet shove off the porch just right, it drags against her lil house just so, and her story suffers from the momentary jolt of pleasure.

These lapses of clarity are happening more often in his company, his kisses wipe her active mind blank in a way she craves, like sleep to the insomniac. Such helpless responses of her body to his have felt natural since he first rocked her to sleep, now they are lawful, too. She has logistics and a future to worry about, the way he makes her shudder and gasp from a lick or press is not of consequence.

“I told the fella that Fettucini Carbonara isn’t the same without bacon bu—Elvis?” his hands had begun to clutch her belly, fingertips digging into the plush curve of her achy womb and his breaths were tumbling out quick and urgent against her neck, a reaction entirely unwarranted by the story. “Elvis?” she repeated, sensing something building, though she didn’t know what.

It’s funny, Elvis is thinking, one never knows what a person will be like in bed until you’re, well, in bed with them. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have clues. And he’s done his fair share of detective work and then proof proving in his time with women.

Elaine has taken up more of his curiosity than anyone before or after he first began to think of her that way. From her athleticism and vigorous competitiveness he can assume she has stamina, her curiosity and lack of judgment indicates a propensity to experiment, her selflessness suggests she would be generous and eager to please but it’s her… craftiness… that makes him shudder now, that strong capability he always liked about her, but is now taking an edge that makes him think of laying beneath her and being used up himself. The fantasy has never veered this direction before but it hits him sticky, searing and potent, even as he shudders through it, hips jerking up to the rhythm of the all consuming thought -use me use me use me, Elaine, use me for your clever purposes—

“Elvis?” much softer this time, her tone is unmistakably concerned, as it should be with him limply shuddering behind her and a wet patch forming between them. “What’s goin’ on, darling?” her hand, that was occupied inside the jacket spinning her large new diamond ring, snakes down to his thigh and rubs it solicitously, unintentionally extracting a last little sputter out of him as he sucks in the chilly night air like he’d been cut down from the gallows.

These past few weeks she’s dealt with his moods and snot and that clammy, sweaty way he gets when worked up, never once flinching or so much as grimacing over it, used to children and hospital work, bodily functions have little power to disgust her. But he reckons that wetting the back of her skirt might be the thing that pushes the envelope, and he thinks he should explain, explain he didn’t just piss himself or half die on her but all he can think in his hazy post-release haze is to mumble

“I love you.”

against her neck, ardent and boyishly certain despite his awareness she won’t, can’t say it back just yet.

“Oh, E,” she whispers, turning her face to him, her nose cold as it nuzzles his cheek sweetly even as she probably thinks he just soiled himself, “Are you alright? What can I do?”

That’s her version of “I love you” and it’s one he’s happy with, now his mama is not there to say it, Elaine must and she never fails to.

“M’alright,” his mouth is dry and his brain is jelly and he can feel his mess growing sticky and cold where its excess drips down his pant leg, he wants to never let her go or he’ll get similarly cold all over, “I jus’ got excited, s’all.” he mumble into her ear and she listens intently, always curious, always eager to learn.

“Excited?” she repeats in a whisper, as if alone on the porch, hidden by the inky blankets of midnight she can preserve his dignity with a whisper, “So that’s not—what were you excited by?”

She changes course midway through her sentence and his drugged mind suggests now might be a great time to talk about sex but this whole arrangement it tenuous enough as is, he can’t bear to spook her with the mechanics and details until she can’t back out, ‘till the law says she’s lawfully his to keep and use, not until she’d have a mound of divorce papers ahead if she doesn’t like that concept of them joining. He has a smug feeling that even if she pursued a separation initially, he could make her like it, bring her around to the idea before she filled out more than two pages. It’ll keep.

“Was ‘cited by you.” he answers truthfully, “by bein’ with you, always makes me happy.” and that’s not a lie, not at all, his heart and his soul and his body cleave to her and adjust themselves to her presence like sunflowers to the sun.

“Oh.” she sounds so pleased, even as her eyebrows are drawn together with the weight of so much knowledge just out of reach.

It’ll keep her up tonight if he knows her, thoughts and confusions and he contemplates reaching beneath her skirt and stroking the ache he prays is there for him to soothe. But that seems risky, too. Day after tomorrow, he can do anything he damn well likes to her. And he’s got a laundry list, it’ll keep. He worries at that thought like his guitar strap. It’ll keep, it’ll keep.

“Ya know how you get damp down there when you’re excited?” he figures this tiny part of the lesson won’t harm anything.

She jolts in his lap and gasps like she’s been caught with her hand down the cookie jar, and if the light were better he knows he’d find her blushing like mad. “H-how’d you know?” she hisses urgently and he’s smug as hell she has no shame to ask him, that he’s the one she wants to learn from.

He wants to laugh but forces himself not to, even if his lips keep trembling in a happy smirk, “Oh baby, it’s natural, jus’ a natural way of your engine revvin’ up. Figured a healthy girl like you—gotta be real slick sometimes, waitin’ to get used.”

“Used?”

“Like the ache ya told me ‘bout,” he deflects, “it’s there to help ya grow those babies. I saw ya glistenin’ when I checked ya house, ‘member?” he prods and she begins to relax in his lap as facts slot into place in her mind, his brand of logic taking root. He pets her belly again, hoping it makes her ache worse, trying to recall her own terminology about this to use against her, “And that’s how ya know you work with someone, if they warm your engine, get ya drippin, means they excite ya.”

Elaine thinks of the night he crashed her date, driving her home and bullying her in the car with sensations and emotions she’d never felt before, and then in the kitchen as he backed her against the stove, delighting in making her uncomfortable. His whole act had been alarmingly purposeful despite his protestations of loyalty to his girls. She knew then he wasn’t playing, or not to the degree he said he was, and now she knows why. It wasn’t a lack of being comfortable with each other, it was suppressed excitement.

She excited him, and he had excited her.

But back then it had been wrong. It wasn’t right to excite someone you’re not gonna marry, not right or not even possible, she’s unsure which. Maybe that’s the problem everyone has with Elvis, he excites girls—a nation's worth—that he’s not gonna marry. She huffs out a relieved prayer of gratitude that he’s gonna marry her and she doesn’t have to be sorry for or fight against this feeling for the rest of her life, that all those nights of wedging a pillow between her legs and begging for that ache to burst were out of loyalty to the man ordained for her.

She nestles back against him contended, even as she wonders at the sheer amount of his excitement soaking her backside and making her dress cling to her. “I’m glad.” she whispers with a wide grin on her face as she stares up at the porch’s beams, “I’m glad I excite you, Elvis.”

Upstairs, as he tosses in his sleep, Mr. Phipps hears the chains of the porch swing resume their creaking rhythm again. He doesn’t recall when the rocking grind had stopped.

[thefrontofmymind]

the 1975 masterlist

* indicates smut

MATTY

SERIES

Might As Well

who knew it'd all start as just a favour for a friend of a friend? (videographer!reader)

IMAGINES

Be Loved

Prompt: Getting engaged after only three months

Over the Balcony Wall

Prompt: Flirting from hotel balconies

Lonely This Christmas

Reader is spending Christmas alone, so is their next door neighbour who apparently doesn't know the volume of his speaker system

Helping Hand*

Friends to lovers + Prompt: "You know I can fuck you better, right?"

Sanctuary

You're revelling in your new family with Matty

Special

australian!reader take matty and his band to their favourite spot in Perth

Dad!Matty (a.k.a. The Chronicles of Baby Healy)

some lil headcanons of matty as a dad

All Things End

It's time you and Matty call it on your relationship

Appetiser*

You and Matty are about to go out to dinner to celebrate your anniversary. But he needs an appetiser.

Surprise?

you find a ring in Matty's belongings, spoiling a pretty big surprise he had planned

Baby Bug

a slice of life from your pregnancy with yours and Matty's first baby

Unknown* (pt. 2 to All Things End)

You and Matty still hold so much goodness for each other

I Could Never Hate You

A little exes to friends blurb, its surprisingly tender

Ice Cream and Jelly

You get your wisdom teeth removed and Matty takes care of you in the aftermath

Overwhelmed (Request)

Austistic!reader gets overwhelmed at a party and Matty calms them down

Make A Wish

You've been keeping your relationship with Matty secret from your friends. You have a good feeling it'll go the distance.

INSTAGRAM BLURBS

FC: Phoebe Bridgers (musician!Reader) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

FC: Daisy Edgar Jones (actress!Reader)

FC: Maude Apatow (photographer!reader) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

FC: Pomme (supporting artist!reader)

FC: Alexa Chung (longterm girlfriend!reader)

FC: Kathering Langford (australian!reader)

FC: Ellie Rowsell (musician!reader)

FC: Heather Baron-Gracie (ex!reader)

FC: Olivia Cooke (wife!reader) Part 1 / Part 2

FC: Suki Waterhouse (rockstar girlfriend!reader)

FC: Rachel Sennott (it girl!reader)

ROSS

SERIES

Proof Positive

Working at Dirty Hit, you've grown so close with the label's star band over the years. After a night of celebration and a bit too much to drink, you're left with a little more than a souvenir of your favourite bassist.

IMAGINES

Lullaby*

you're having trouble getting to sleep, so your boyfriend, Ross remedies that

Ross Brainrot

Just some fluff about watching Ross at Finsbury Park

Nothing's Changed

teacher!ross x teacher!reader, what else can i say?

Sunrays

suprising Ross in his hotel room on tour

Secret Santa

part 2 of nothing's changed: christmas edition

[storyofmychoices]

Our Future Doctor

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist] [Malia Lahela]

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (F!OC) Other Character: Malia Lahela (F!OC) Book: Open Heart Word Count: ~600 Rating/Warning: General (all the family fluff) Prompt: @aprilchallenge family; @choicesflashfics #3 (in bold)

Synopsis: Bryce and Olivia enjoy the morning with their daughter.

Art by the incredible and always wonderful ArtbyAinna (Insta). I can't stop staring at my beautiful family. THEM!!!! 🥺😭😍

She pried open her tired eyes at the sound of Malia's cry.

"I'll get her," Bryce offered, pressing a kiss on his sleepy wife's forehead. "You rest." 

Olivia nodded, the darkness in the room already drawing her back to sleep. "She probably needs to be changed. She ate not long ago," Olivia mumbled, settling back into her pillow with a giant yawn.

"I can handle that. Try to get some rest." 

The heaviness of sleep overcame her quickly. Her lips curled up in the corners as she drifted off, listening to Bryce's soothing tone as he doted over Malia. 

"What time is it?" Her eyes widened. The once-dark room overflowed with warm, golden sunbeams. She popped up in worry, but Malia's soft coo beside her pulled her back.

"We're right here." Bryce's fingers threaded tenderly through her hair. "We're okay."

Olivia relaxed, turning into Malia, her smile growing.

"We got cleaned up, changed, and even did some reading," Bryce reported proudly. 

Olivia stroked her daughter's arm softly, kissing her little nose. "And, what fun book did you read?"

"I thought our future doctor should get started on her research—" Bryce smiled, gesturing to Malia's choice of onesie. "We were reading Netter's Atlas of Human Anatomy. Our future surgeon needs to know where to cut."

"Bryce!" 

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? It has pictures!"

"Oh, Malia, what's daddy trying to get you to read?" Her head shifted to the sides softly. "There will be plenty of time for that when you're older."

"How much older?" Bryce questioned, his brow raising in concern.

Olivia hummed in consideration. "Five." 

"Fine. Five," he agreed reluctantly. "But, if she happens to glance at the book before then, I'm not stopping her."

She laughed at his insistence. "Sounds reasonable." Olivia couldn't help but marvel at their precious daughter, who had wrapped her tiny hand around her mother's finger guiding it into her mouth. 

"Someone needs to write better and more medically accurate children's medical texts." 

"That would be fun, wouldn't it." Olivia beamed, unable to take her gaze off Malia, who stretched out comfortably between them. "Maybe we'll have to make one for her."

"Luckily, she has two rockstar doctor parents to show her the way," Bryce boasted.

"Is that true?" Olivia cooed. "Yeah, it is! And just so you know, we'll love you no matter what, even if you're not a doctor."

"Right," Bryce agreed, kissing the crown of his daughter's head. "But we all know these are surgeon's hands, and it'd be a shame to waste them."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You can be anything you want." Her gaze narrowed at her husband. 

"What?" Bryce feigned innocence.

Malia's eyes closed, lulled by the warmth of the sun and the sounds of her parents' voices.

"A dad can dream, can't he? Besides, we both know she's a daddy's girl. Aren't you, Lia?" His gaze drifted back to his sleeping daughter.

Olivia stifled her giggle, "looks like she's already ahead of you. I wonder what she's dreaming about." 

"Us," Bryce decided, unable to look away from his daughter. "And how loved she is and always will be, no matter what."

"No matter what," Olivia repeated.

The three of them rested, enjoying a short moment of peace and quiet beneath the glow of the morning sun blanketing the room. The future could wait. It would solve itself in time. Right now, all any of them needed was this— being together and being loved. And, that's all any of them would ever need. 

I love them so so much 😭😭😭😭 Thank you for reading and supporting this family. I hope you enjoy your first look at Malia. She is the most precious angel and I love her so much and her beautiful parents too!!!

Also, shout out to Olivia's future side hustle as a children's medical book author based on this HC ❤️

[spiderfunkz]

shine → send me a prompt / trope / or au + a character and i'll make a moodboard out of it! (ex. stargazing with remus, rockstar!natasha, artist!reader x peter parker)

there isn’t enough love for (my wife) mary mcdonald on this app soooo I’d like to request rockstar!mary x artist!r

im sending you so much love:)) 300!!!!! you deserve it so much!!<33

mary deserves the world !!

— . ♡ rockstar!mary x artist!gf

museum dates. vip tickets to concerts. goodluck kisses. songs written about you. paintings of mary. late night walks. private guitar sessions. handmade gifts. holding hands. lazy but sweet dates. learning how to play the guitar. mary posing for your paintings. love bites.