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eyesxxyou · 7 months

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Backstage Show Pt.6

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5.5k

synopsis. it's been a long time since you and Hobie last saw each other. after he invites you to his next concert, despite better judgement, you go. you know yourself, you always fall into old habits

you and hobie get back together

🍒・．❕warnings. she's a long one, smut with LOTS of plot, fingering, hand riding, sloppy kissing, save a horse ride a cowboy, love making, a lot of references to other parts, angst, lots of angsy, a healthy(er) relationship, reader has more control than before

You and Hobie haven’t spoken in months. You imagined it was all too easy for him to pretend you never existed, that this was how all his relationships inevitably ended, unceremoniously without even a text to apologize for everything said in the worst of your moments. You were absolutely torn, terribly upset, and horrifically furious when he still used your picture on his album cover, the picture of you with his thumb in your mouth, only your lower face visible to his audience. It was like some sick wink at you. He knew you’d see the cover, knew that you’d know it was you. You two were probably the only two people in the world who knew.

Fuck him. He could fall off a building for all you cared. You didn’t need him. It seemed almost impossible to think that you were once obsessed with him, that you would have once kiss the ground he walked on and done the most heinous things for him.

Nearly half a year and you were beginning to forget what he looked like, what he smelled like, the smallest details about him. You were eternally grateful for it and unquestionably sad over it. Your sheets no longer smelt like him, the last remnant of him in your home. It was almost as if he never existed in the first place, how little he left around. He made it so easy for himself to disappear.

And he did disappear for a while. From your life and your mind.

Until he was back to touring in your location.

You weren’t going to the show. You never even listened to the new album affectionately named “Doll” after the title track on the 12 track list. You could only imagine what that was about, that and the rest of his tracks. You'd never know. You never would listen to it. You never bought a copy.

You got off of your shift with a sigh and made your way down the the bar near your job to grab a drink. It was Friday, you were able to get the weekend off, and you needed to be drunk the entire time. Mary Jane fans were swarming the streets and you couldn't stand any of them. You wondered which of them was Hobie's new plaything. When would they realize he would never love them even a fraction of the way they worshiped him?

Poor thing. Whoever they were, they were on the fast track to getting their heard broken.

You pushed open the door to your usual bar and found it roudier than usual. You managed to wiggle your way to the counter before you saw him. He was sitting out with his chair leaned back, his feet kicked up on the table, and a nice pint of frothing beer in his hand. He was smiling at some fan who had approached, wanting autographs. He was very obviously flirting with them until his eye caught yours slightly behind them. His smile faltered a bit as you whipped around and hid your face behind your hands.

He was more gorgeous than you remembered, fucking breathtaking. You never realized how much you would miss the individual features of his face. His golden eyes, his nose, his lips, his hair. You hoped he hadn't seen you, that you could get your drink and mind your own. But of course he had and of course he felt the need to come up to you.

"Y/n? Y/n, is tha' you?" You could hear a distance away and swiftly you asked the bartender for a kamikaze. This would be a long night. There was no getting away from him now. He was already making his way to you, lightly pushing people to the side to get to you.

Hobie sidled up beside you on the stool to your left, his knees on either side of your body. "How ya doin', doll?" His voice was so smooth and gentle in your ear you could just melt into him, profess how much you missed him all this time, beg for the two of you to go back to the way you were. But you refused to cave, refused to be so weak.

You didn't answer him. The bartender came back with your drink and you thanked her with a smile and a nod. You were no not talking mood, especially not with him.

Hobie's been missing you a lot. Things didn't feel the same without you around. Things didn't feel right. He felt a bit uneasy going on stage, the energy before and after wasn't exactly the same. He drank a little more, slept a little less, haunted over the way things ended. He thought he'd never see you again. The world was too large for something like that.

But here you two were. And you weren't talking to him. Why would you? You had confessed your love to him and he had squeezed your heart til it exploded in the palm of his hands. There was absolutely no reason in the world why you would talk to him.

"Still mad at me, luv?"

Something about his tone of voice made you upset, like he was telling you to get over it, what's past is past and it shouldn't bother you anymore. You finally looked at him, your lip twitching with disdain. "Why are you here, Hobart?"

"Oh, the government name." He placed a hand on his chest to feign hurt but the way you were acting did hurt him. It was deserved, more than deserved, so he took it as it was. "I'm here on tour. It's the night before our concert. We're jus' celebrating." He nodded over to his mates, all of them distracted by fans of their own. They hardly even noticed Hobie left them.

"I ain't think I'd run into ya. I though' I'd have ta hunt'cha down, luv. I need to talk to ya." He timidly placed a hand on top of yours. You needed something far stronger than a kamikaze. You needed straight vodka shots.

You pulled your hand from his, subsequently pulling your heart away and locking it up behind your ribcage despite the way it pulled and leaped for him. It's hard not to be in love even after months of never seeing him. But you wouldn't open yourself to getting hurt again. You might be in love but you're not gonna be dumb about it. "There's nothing for us to talk about. You made everything very clear the last time we spoke." Why aren't you punching him in the face? Why aren't you leaving? Why aren't you cursing him out? All of them are valid reactions. "I'm not gonna be an easy fuck for you."

"Just give it a chance, luv. Give me a chance. I really just wanna talk, nothin' else. I think with the way we left tings off wasn't the greatest–"

"Ya think?" You downed the rest of your drink and flinched at the sharp sting at the back of your throat. You motioned for some shots to the bartender and mouthed vodka while Hobie continued.

"I just wanna make tings right, dove." There was something very soft and genuine in his voice. He just wanted to give the both of you closure. You were done with him and that was okay, just as long as you knew the truth. "How about you come to the concert tomorrow? We'll talk after. Free admission."

You stared at him, gaze softening just a bit. How tender and palpable you could turn for him, like putty in his hands. With just a soft tone and a pleading gaze and you folded. "Fine. I'll go to your concert. We'll talk but I don't want to do anything, Hobie. I don't wanna feel like you're plaything again."

Hobie raised his hands in surrender. "I won't even touch you, luv. I'll never make you do something you don't wanna." It's true. He never made you do anything you weren't down for. And you were down for anything involving him.

Hobie rolled his lips, buying the bottom one to hide a grin. He stood up and dropped 40 pounds to pay for your drinks and a couple more if you chose to have any. "Have a good nigh', luv. I'll see ya tomorrow."

You huffed in response. It took everything in you to not turn to watch him walk away. You didn't want to stay any longer. You couldn't stand the thought of being in a room with him, pretending his was there when you were acutely aware of his existence staring holes into your skull.

You used the money to pay for your drinks and left the rest as a tip to the bartender before takinging your leave. You had to be rested for tomorrow.

—

Hobie ended up getting you tickets for the pit closest to the stage. The asshole. You stood squeezed between two fans screaming Hobie's name, dressed in gaze-attracting outfits. They screamed their heads off the moment they saw him and the other Mary Janes come out on stage, hoping to get his valuable attention. Your lips were sealed but your heart swelled seeing him where he was his very best. He was so beautiful, the stage lights casting down upon him from behind. He looked like an angel but you knew better.

His eyes searched the crowd for you and once his gaze landed upon your figure getting pushed around by fans trying to push their way to the front, he smiled. "How's everyone doin' t'nigh'?" Hobie kept looking at you, like he meant to be asking you specifically. You turned your head away, playing with your nails to show you weren't interested.

"Aww, don' be shy, a lil' louda." And the crowd responded with all their lungs could handle but all he wanted was to hear from you. All he needed was you.

"I've got someone special ina crowd t'nigh'. I wanna make sure tonight's a good show for them. So please, luvs, be nice to each otha t'nigh'." He knew you didn't want to be here, it was basic etiquette. Who wanted to be shoved around all night?

They started playing some of their new songs you've never heard before and suddenly you remembered why you loved them so much. They were all so mesmerizing on stage, their lyrics made you want to move, to jump around to close your eyes and feel the chaotic rhythm.

But as you listened, you realized a little more that the lyrics were about you and Hobie. To anyone else, it was just about two people who were in love but never meant to be together. It was a progression of events across the album, each song about different aspects of your relationship. "Worship" was about how much one worshiped the other to the point that it killed them. "How We Cave" was the end, about how they fell apart, all of it cleverly hidden within the folds of the song so that no one batted an eyelash.

The entire album was a wink and nudge to you, between the two of you. "Only we have to know" it said and you despised how much it meant to you. You needed to get out of here. Suddenly the entire venue felt as though it was crushing you, crashing down on your head.

You writhed and wiggled your way between people to make your way to the nearest exit. When you got outside, you took a deep breath, your exhale a cloudy haze before your lips under the cold air. You shuddered, reached into your pocket, and lit up a joint. You needed it, deserved it.

How he changed you, molded you into a person unrecognizable to your younger self. You had never been a smoker, never been much of a drinker, not before you met Hobie and he changed who you were so intrinsically. You never knew if it was a good thing or a bad one.

You knew the concert was over when people began funneling out, talking amongst themselves about who this new, special guest was. You pushed yourself off to the side and took a long drag of your joint, leaving strawberry lipgloss that you could taste with every drag. You wandered around the side of the building until you found the back entrance where Hobie told you to wait if the two of you managed to lose each other.

He came out about 10 minutes later, looking left and right until his eyes landed upon you. "Sorry, some fans wit' backstage passes I was meetin'. The boys are entertainin'em now." He excused himself, hopping over the guardrailing to get to you. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Take a wild guess." You took another drag before Hobie took it from you and took one himself. He loved the taste of you on it, took another drag because of it. "My bad, luv." He came and leaned against the wall beside you, his leather jacket the only thing protecting him from the cold. You weren't much better off either, dresses in an outfit similar to when you first met, you shivered from time to time while smoking with him.

"I saw you leave." He hummed and passed the joint back to you.

"Doubt I missed anything crazy. You were almost done anyway."

"The fuckin' Queen's ghost came on stage 'n did a backflip." Hobie countered, looking down at you with eyes that told you he was serious. His expression fell way into one of humor when you giggled and tossed your head back against the brick wall. "You're so stupid."

"I so am."

You didn't like how serious the undertones of his voice sounded. You didn't look at him, just smoked your joint to a bud before dropping it and putting it out under your boot. "I wanna go home."

Hobie stood from his position and offered out a hand to you. "Then lemme walk you." You looked at him, then his hand, and with a scoff, walked right past him. But you didn't tell him no, so he went right with you. You never said no to him along the way to your flat only a couple blocks away.

It was like the two of you were scared to talk about what you really wanted to. The way you two left off. Anyone looking at you would have said you were friends, not ex-lovers. And you weren't even that technically. You two laughed together, walked together without a single touch shared but all the longing glances of two people wanting to get back together after so many months.

And when you reached your flat, you turned and looked at Hobie and his massive height head on. "You can't come inside."

"I can't or you don't want me to?" He countered again because he knew you too well. You shoved him softly and he didn't even move. "Both. I know myself." If he comes in, you'll have sex, you'll wake up, and he won't be there. You would have let him in just to get hurt again.

"I told you, I won' touch ya, luv. I haven' yet, have I?" He was right, the only time he tried, he gave you the option to take his hand and you had refused, renewing your agreement that he would not be the one to initiate anything between the two of you. "We still haven' spoken. I don't think ya wan' everyone on the street to know our business, yeah?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked around. Finally, you looked for your keys to the front door and when you found it, you unlocked it. Hobie knew to be quiet as to disturb your neighbors and he surprisingly was considering his size. You knew where the stairs freaked and he followed your moves. Most of your neighbors were older people and that they'd have no qualms reporting you to your landlord.

When you finally reached your flat, you unlocked the door and let him in.

Your flat looked mostly if not entirely the same. Hobie smiled. "Good memories in here." He looked back at you with sparkling eyes. You closed the door. "Yeah, yeah, Hobie. Come on, we came in here to talk." You didn't want any of his bullshit anymore. You needed closure or you'd go crazy. Barely getting through the day without crying and throwing things was no way to live your life. Drinking and smoking all the time wasn't much greater either. You both were a mess.

"Yeah, yeah, we did." His playful attitude faltered as he crossed his long arms loosely over his chest and looked at his boots. "Look, 'm sorry, y/n. 'm sorry for all of it. You never deserved the way I treated you, you never deserved what I said to you."

You sat, you listened, you let him talk, your lips pulling to the side as you attempted to hold back swelling tears.

"I know I was wrong. I know. And I regret it everyday for the way I hurt you. We just…one, we shouldn't've had a conversation like tha' at a time like tha'. But I'm–" he paused for a moment, looking for the words. "I wasn't lying when I said I'm not someone you want to love. I am someone that no one has ever loved, doll. They have always left me because of who I am."

"But I'm not everyone else, Hobes. You can't decide for me who I'm gonna love." You interjected, a bit tearful. The situation frustrated you to tears and you felt a bit ridiculous for crying but Hobie didn't care, he reached out and wiped the fresh tears from your face. "Ya right. I should've let you make that decision yaself and 'm sorry for tha', luv. I was jus' scared."

"Scared? Scared of what, Hobie?" You croaked out, looking up at him with those big, beautiful eyes of yours that he adored so much, that he thought of in the darkest part of the night to keep him going.

He closed his eyes because he couldn't bear to look into your gaze. "I was afraid you would leave me one day because what would I do withou'cha by my side, luv. I was scared because I loved ya too and I knew I didn't deserve ya and one day you'd figure tha' ou' too."

He was scared to look at you, scared that it may ruin the moment to know how you were feeling about all of this. If only he knew him hard you fell for him again. Maybe the two of you weren't right for each other. Maybe whatever high power never ordained for you to be together. But fuck that higher power.

Hobie felt the weight of your lips ease against his and immediately took you in to him. He's been waiting to kiss you since the moment he first saw you but he promise he wouldn't touch you, not unless you touched him first.

Your hands reached up and caressed his face with your soft palms. His hand timidly came to your hips, waiting for you to writhe from him hold but you don't, you lean into him, standing on your toes to reach his lips better. You still taste like fruits and he hopes that your nether lips taste the same.

"I want you." You murmured against his lips in a daze of lust. "I want you right here, please." You kissed him harder pushing him back onto your couch before clamoring onto his lap with your legs straddling him. Hobie pulled you close, so close until your body pressed against his chest, rolling like waves under the exploring nature of his hands.

Your hands pulled at each other's clothes, removing shirts, tugging at the buttons of pants, a bra was tossed over your shoulder by you don't know who's hand. You wanted him completely naked, completely vulnerable to you for the first time and he wanted you the same.

Removing each other's clothes, you got up and stumbled clumsily to your bedroom where, by the time you got there, the two of you stood naked, embracing each other while you kissed. You had Hobie on the bed in seconds, still on top of him while you kissed hickeys down his neck. His hand slid down the soft skin of your naval, sliding between your supple legs to touch the slick nether lips of your pussy. He slid his middle finger between your folds and groaned softly. "Are you this wet all the time?"

"Only for you." You rocked your hips softly against his hand, shuddering as he curled his finger and let it slide into the wetness of your entrance. It was so easy to add another finger into you, and with enough working from his middle and index, scissoring you open while rubbing that sensitive ridge you've got inside you, he managed to add a third.

"Ahh– shit…Hobie." You rode his fingers, your hands holding his head where his jaw and neck met. You kept your eyes on his, your foreheads pressed against one another. "Keep goin', luv. Take wha'cha need."

You liked the warmth of his skin against yours. Two humans in love sharing in the taking of each other's bodies. Your teeth met his skin, nipping, biting, the salty remnants of sweat from performing still on his skin. He smells like weed, looks like heaven, and tastes like love. His palm worked against your clit while his fingers stretched you open in preparation for his size, which you haven't taken in a long while. You could feel it resting against your stomach, aching, smearing precum across your naval. You wanted it inside you in any way you could have him. But it seemed that he was intent on making you cum hon his hand first.

"Mmmh~ Ion wanna cum yet." You told him still rutting your hips against his hand. "I wanna cum with you." You wanted out, biting your lower lip as you whimpered. "I want your cock. Please lemme have it, Hobes. Please." You offered him puppy dog eyes like he wasn't already willing to give you everything you wanted and the world on top of it.

"Cummin' twice never hurt nobody." Hobie used his free hand to lift your head and make you face him again. "Jus' look a' me wit' those pretty eyes, luv. Can you do tha' for me?" He let his hand drop to your hip and felt the way you moved under the weight of his palm, desperate for a climax long denied to you for months. You nodded with wet, pouty lips and those pretty eyes.

Yoru walls clamped down upon his fingers as your ground your hips down hard and whimpered with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Just keep–” You tilted your hips to rub your clit a little more against the heel of his palm. You bit your lip and held him tighter as you rocked to the sway of your climax washing over you gently. Your body paused and you pressed your lips to Hobie’s to stifle your moan so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors. “Fuck– Hobie!”

Your tongues pressed against each other, your kiss sloppy and passionate, full of lust melting back into love. It was dark in your room, hard to see anything all you two had were your unadjusted eyes and the intimacy of touch to guide your way. Hobie laid back on your bed with his head in your pillows. Your scent surrounded him and he was in heaven as you climbed further up on top of him and grasped the length of his cock tenderly.

He let you do what you needed to do, sighing with perfect content as you dragged the tip of his cock between your wet folds. “Go slow, dove. I wanna feel ya.” He told you, shivering as your positioned him against your soaked entrance and sank down until your warm walls enveloped his fat tip. From there, you braced your hands upon his chest and did as told, slowly sinking down upon him, his cock spreading you further than you remembered.

You watched the way Hobie writhed beneath you, his hands gripping up and down your hips and thighs. “Fuck, y/n. Oh my…” He missed this so much, he missed you, this pretty, tight, warm cunt he dreamed about at night. All the toys he’s gotten in an attempt to replicate you, all of it in vain. He almost whined for you, biting his lip to contain something of a whimper. He wished he could se the way your folds parted for him or the way your hole stretched and struggled to contain him.

You liked the sight of him struggling to control himself. There was an overwhelming sense of power you felt you had over him for the first time in you entire fucked up situationship. His grip left bruises in your skin, tighter and tighter as you lifted yourself to the very tip of his member before pushing yourself back down, sheathing his cock completely, He made space for himself inside you, you walls melding to his exact length and girth. You had almost forgotten how good he felt, how he kissed your cervix so tenderly and pressed against sensitive spots you could never reach on your own.

"God, doll. Ya know wha'cha doin' t'me?" His hands find purchase on your hips, weakly following your movements as he watches the outline of your silhouette in amazement. The bed creaks a little with your movements, your moans mingle with the wet sounds of his pushing his cock into you, it's heaven in a single bedroom and you never want to go back to Earth.

Hobie lifted his knees and propped himself up, his hands gripping your hips a little harder so he could have his moment of control. He thrusted up into you, conjuring a breathless gasp from you as you gripped his shoulders for support. Your back arched as he fucked you, abused your cunt a little harder than you were used to over these past couple of months. You but your lip to contain the onslaught of moans you had to offer him, only letting out soft cries and whimpers to satiate his hunger to hear you.

You let him fuck into you, nice and rough, a position only those gifted in his department could pull off. You leaned down, pressed your body to his, laid on top of him with your back arched. You moaned into his neck, nosing at the angle of his jaw. Your hips flicked to meet the thrust of his hips. "H-Hobieeee." You squealed for him and he adored it, the way you dragged out his name like you wanted to hold it in your mouth for longer.

You stretched like a cat on top of him, you hands grasping at the pillow on either side of his head, scratching at the head post. You kept your face against his throat to hide your moans so only he could hear but they were so loud you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck and bite down to muffle them.

It was like he was tearing you apart, his large hands spreading you wide, his full lips muttering obscenities along the lines of his good you felt around him. So soft, so silky, so wet, so good.

When you kissed, it was not a kiss. It was just the parts, a sloppy meeting of tongues, teeth, and lips, all tangled up and touching on another. It was broken down by lust fueled by love, by the warmth of heated skin, by the kindness one human offers to another. He paused his hips to slide his hands up to hold your head with his fingers tangled in your hair.

"I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyou." You groaned against his lips at first before babbling it out like you couldn't hold it in you much longer. You needed it out, in the air. You hips rutted, you pussy leaving his cock soaked as you dripped. Your clit rubbed against his hair-covered pelvis and you shivered with pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

Hobie chuckled a little and you fed on it like you've never known any other substance. "I love you too, dove. 'N I wanna see you fuck me. Give me a show. Jus' f'me this time." This whole time, you've been giving shows to other people, now he wants you just to himself.

You sat back up, your hands against his stomach, scratching lightly as you rocked your hips. Hobie watched the way your body moved, hypnotized by the way you rolled and danced. You bounced on his cock, each one met with a lazy thrust into you.

You closed your eyes and tossed your head back, your mouth slightly ajar. You let the pleasure take you, you felt every thrust of his cock inside you, every point of pleasure it touched, the way your greedy, swollen clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, his hands on your hips, sliding up and down your thighs to coax you to continue. You loved his light voice, "you go' i', baby. Keep goin', jus' like tha'. My lovely, looks so pretty." His voice strained with each word, the beginnings of an orgasm making themselves known in his throat.

You shuddered, pussy trembling with your own climax. "I wanna cum together, Hobie. Please." You pleaded with him, looking back down at his fucked out expression trying to hold on to some cohesiveness. His muscles tightened as you fucked him harder, bringing yourself all the way up to the tip of his cock before coming down with a loud clap.

"Wha'eva you wan', lovely. I'll do wha'eva you wan'." He'll be whatever you want to. He just needs you in every way he can have you, for as long as he can have you. "You keep goin' like this 'n 'm gonna cum inside this gorgeous cunt of ya's."

You moaned at the thought of his cum filling you up, taking up the space his cock once did. "Do it, do it, please." You were just on the edge of your orgasm and he could tell. The way your walls clamped around him told everything and each movement brought him closer as well.

It was a simultaneous reaction. It took you both at once. Your moans were louder than before, mingling together embracing each other as your pussy quivered and milked his cock just the way he needed to shoot ribbons of cum right against your cervix and coat your walls in white. There was just so much of it and you continued to ride him, earning a few whimpers from Hobie as you milked him nice and thoroughly. To the point that his cum leaked through the tight seal his cock made with your entrance and dribbled down the underside of his cock and down his balls.

You felt so warm, so full. You fell on top of him, let him wrap his arms around you as you took in his scent so intrinsically his. You missed him so much, missed the feel of his sweaty skin against yours, missed the sound of his labored breath in your ear, then his chuckle he inevitably did at some point. You shook with his chest, rocking your hips a little to feel the comfort of his softening cock inside you.

"What's so funny?" You asked, drawing imaginary shapes against his chest in the dark.

"Really slutted me out in the end there. 've neva whimpered before." He laughed again, tossing a arm over his face to hide his embarrassment. You were laughing with him, a smile half pressed into his chest. "We could do it again."

There was a long stretch of silence as your laugher faded together and you sat there with him still inside you and his cum leaking out in globs, creating a mess between the both of you. There was so much you two needed to say, so many conversations you needed to have, but you narrowed it down in 8 words.

"I missed ya, luv." Hobie began.

"I missed you too." He'd never know how much hearing those words from his pierced lips would make your heart soar. The fact that he said it first, even more so.

"Remember tha' shower you was talkin' 'bout?"

You thought back to that moment of embarrassment for you when you had invited him to shower with you and he had refused. "How could I forget?" Even thinking about it now made your cheeks ache as blood rushed to them.

Hobie shifted a little beneath you. "I wanna take it now." A smile began to creep up onto your face and now your cheeks burned for another reason.

"Let's go take it then."

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #backstage show #hobie brown x reader #rockstar!au #rockstar!hobie x groupie!reader #spiderpunk smut

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kkuzushi · 8 days

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Haii! Ive read your sub Heizou fic and omg... I kept thinking about scaramouche while reading it. I've also taken a liking to your page! Your writing is soo goodnendksjdnxw sub scaramouche fic when? 🥰🥰🎀🎀

(I feel like in going to interact with your page alot so can I be 🎸 anon? >_<)

“ 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 ”

✦ 𝗰haracters: sub!scaramouche x dom!reader

✦ 𝗰w: mirror sex (at the end), implied orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, slight choking, cock can be interpreted as strap

✦ 𝘄ord count: 1.02k

✦ 𝗻otes: You’re always welcome to my page, lovely 🎸. This is written especially for you. <3

It became a routine for Scaramouche to send pictures of himself when wearing different outfits. It was just a time to time update, like you had asked, but he had gotten unexpectedly used to it.

For a man who has impeccable fashion taste, you would always shower him with compliments with every picture he sent—because of that, he saw it as a way to get your attention.

As usual, you received a notification from Scaramouche and it was a mirror shot. The picture was enough to make you smile but what took your attention was the message he sent after it.

"It's been a week, when are you coming over?"

Scaramouche had gotten clingy as well after establishing a relationship.. or maybe there's something he's after.

"My schedule's packed for this week, maybe by the end of the month we get to spend time again."

You replied, which he immediately read. It took a while for him to respond as it turns out, he was preparing another picture for you. Only this time, his shirt was lifted up, his teeth biting on the fabric to expose his stomach.

"How about right now?" He sent with the picture.

You could almost read where he's going along with this but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After a few back and forth bickering, his pictures and messages had only gotten more and more explicit.

"My bed's missing you."

"Wanna show me what 34+35 is equal to?"

"Something wants to be filled and it's not my expectations."

If only he knew how much you actually wanted to rail him right now. If your schedule wasn't so packed, you'd be having your way with him.

Though who said you can't? It didn't take long for you to arrive at his place, a sight you could never get tired of unfolding right before you.

Scaramouche's nails clawed your back, almost holding for dear life as you mindlessly pounded him to oblivion.

"Wait..! Too full~!!" His grip around you tightened as he squealed with every thrust you give him.

"For someone so teasing, you sure can't take a lot," You commented, grabbing his thighs to push back, spreading it out even more.

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed down at you, biting his lips gently before speaking, "I didn't expect that simple words would provoke you."

His statement made you chuckle before closing the distance between the two of you. His legs spread apart as you pushed your cock all the way inside, resting close to his prostate, making him squirm from the sensation.

"It didn't provoke me, Scara," you cooed to his ear, "It only motivated me."

Before he could respond, you bucked your hips, finally hitting his prostate. Scaramouche's eyes widened as he lets out what could only be described as a scream.

"ngAHh~!! ♡ ♡" His back arched from the sudden thrust to his prostate, a hoarse moan was forced out of him, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

Your back has been marked to the core by his nails, it was painful yet you enjoyed the feeling—after all, it was the result of having your way with him.

Scaramouche's thighs starts to tremble, his head rolling back as moans after moans stream out of his throat.

Just the way his body reacts to his prostate getting abused turned you on, how could you ever get tired of fucking this man?

"Do I fuck you good, Scaramouche?" You grunted, hands on his waist to keep yourself moving on the same pace. The only answer given to you were mewls, poor Scaramouche can't even think properly as he seems to be seeing stars now.

"aH~ aH!~ goofmgnh~ sho goodddh~!! ♡" A few minutes after your question, Scaramouche starts to ramble, his tongue lolling out of his mouth with every word he says.

His cock was leaking precum, spilling all the way to his thighs. If he wasn't so focused on having your permission, he would've finished since then—but only good boys get that, right?

The sound of skin hitting skin was loud as you fucked Scaramouche harshly yet his moans were still louder than anything else. His pretty body was filled with fresh bitemarks and hickeys, even on places that's exposed easily. Not to worry, he won't be complaining anytime soon.

"fuck..! fuck! mnghah..!" He squealed as he watched your cock disappearing with every thrust you give, almost like his hole was sucking it in. His inner walls tightened, receiving a moan from you, "hagh- g-gonna cum!~ ♡"

His words served as a signal as you swiftly changed his position, turning him around to make him face his bedroom mirror. Scaramouche's eyes widened after realising your intentions.

"N-not like thisfhAHH~♡♡!!" Words were cut once his felt your cock fucking him in a rougher pace. You pinned his hands on his back, your free hand crawling up and wrapping around his neck so tenderly.

"Look at yourself as you cum," You whispered to his ear, your eyes staring at his in the mirror. The way you talked to him didn't help, everything was deliberately turning him on, his back arching further as he felt his body grow weak.

He was close, so close to finishing. Scaramouche knew that if he disobeyed this one last command from you, it's back to square one. His eyes never left the mirror, scanning the way his body gets pounded by you. The sight alone was making him scream in pleasure.

"mngha- cummi— i'm cummingghhaHH~!! ♡♡♡" Scaramouche's eyes rolled back, a long moan flowing out his mouth as his cock squirted cum all over the place, even reaching the mirror.

Once the white fluid stops spilling out of him, his volume decreased. What could only be heard now are heavy pants from him, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

"We're not yet done," his eyes widened once more as he hears you speak down to his nape, "You still have to make me cum, remember?"

Exhaustion has never felt this pleasing, Scaramouche knew he was in for a long night, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#Genshin Impact #genshin impact #Genshin #genshin #genshin x reader #sub scaramouche #kunikuzushi #sub kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #sub scara #sub scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #smut #smutfic #the balladeer #wanderer #modern scara #modern scaramouche

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adiluv · 9 months

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❥ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 — 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄. ˚⊹꒷

📓୧・꒰summary—wc꒱ affection, regret, and zenith. 1503.

🎸୧・꒰warnings꒱ yandere character ꒰forced/unhealthy relationship, manipulative behavior, mentions of abduction꒱, reader is not traveler, lightly edited.

💿୧・꒰adi moment꒱ sorry for the scara/wanderer posting, may or may not end up happening again! i've got mixed feelings on how this turned out, but yandere scaramouche owns my heart atm and i had to write something for him. hope you enjoy! ૮꒰..◜ᴗ◝..꒱ა ♡

as a disclaimer, i don't support yandere behavior in real life! please don’t interpret this post as justification for any of scaramouche's actions.

જ⁀➴ affection: how do they show their love and affection? ˚⊹꒷

Being openly affectionate is a rather difficult task for Scaramouche… though it isn’t exactly hard to understand why. Betrayal after betrayal combined with years of working beneath the Tsaritsa certainly don’t encourage emotional vulnerability, any tenderness he’d once possessed being forsaken for the sadistic persona he now proudly flaunts.

He’d used that very façade of his to attempt to push you away, back when he’d still had yet to realize just how desperately he needed you in his life. Affection from Scaramouche would remain a rarity between the both of you for quite some time, even after he’d taken you into his ꒰albeit forceful꒱ care. It was safer for him, that way. You weren’t exactly subtle with your discontentment, and the sting of abandonment wouldn’t hurt as badly if he kept you at a distance.

But when he asks—no, demands a hug from you—you’ve really got no choice but to oblige.

At first, he’s hesitant in the embrace, hands shakily grasping and pulling at the fabric on the back of your shirt as you hold him. Although without the need for air, the stiffness of his body made it seem as though his breath had gotten stuck in his throat, mechanical grasp erratically tightening and loosening as he attempted to adjust. Once he finally does, he absolutely refuses to allow you to pull away, keeping you still in his grip for well over a minute before he finally relents. His eyes are wet as you glance at him, a tear-stained blotch on your clothing as he hurriedly barks for you to turn away.

Despite his initial reaction, these commands for physical affection only become more and more frequent afterwards—much to your distress. Beginning with those awkward hugs and culminating in full blown cuddle sessions ꒰one-sided as they usually are꒱, Scaramouche gradually allows himself to become more and more acquainted with the softness of your touch.

Gift-giving is also a rather common habit of his. As strange as it is for him to be jealous, considering that you aren’t even allowed to sit in the manor’s garden unattended, he just can’t help but worry about you. Seeing you decorated in clothing and accessories of his choosing alleviates his worries, reminding him that you’re still his, even when he might be far away on one of the Tsaritsa’s missions.

It starts out small. A gold necklace. An intricate bracelet, the design of which mimicking the traditional Inazuman motifs found on his clothing.

But it’s not long until he has you fitted for the garments themselves, tailors indebted to the Fatui hauled over from the solitary nation to create an entirely new wardrobe. Scaramouche, of course, oversees the entire process. Not a single detail is overlooked, with him comparing different samples of designs and forcing them to start over whenever he’s displeased with one of their creations. Any attempts to get him to loosen up are met with harsh glares—the same reasoning repeated to you every time.

“Their debts will be paid by their labor,” he’ll justify, “A mercy considering the Fatui’s usual methodology.” Unless they want to find a permanent residence amongst the cadavers in Dottore’s lab, incompetence simply isn’t something he’ll tolerate.

And, sure, the expense is one that causes a fair share of annoyance from the other Harbingers—especially Pantalone, who was made to fund the operation—though it’s hard to pay any attention to his vexed murmurs when you look so good in the finished pieces.

જ⁀➴ regret: would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? ˚⊹꒷

Scaramouche? Feel bad? When he’s doing you such a gracious favor? Archons, now that might just be the funniest thing he’s heard in a while. In his eyes, it should really be you that feels bad. You should be sobbing at his feet, begging him to forgive you for your oh so constant insolence—your endless whining and complaining.

After all, how could he possibly ever expect to feel pity for the circumstances you’ve found yourself in? You, who’s currently ‘trapped’ within a mansion more luxurious than you could’ve previously imagined. You, who he makes sure is both well fed and dressed—who has countless Fatui guards at your every beck and call. You, who he specifically keeps safe from the many dangers of the world you so stupidly wish to explore. You, who he endures some of Dottore’s more gruesome experiments for—just so your DNA can be preserved in case of tragedy.

In actuality, the thought that he’d regret ‘taking you’ from your ‘home’... it’s just pathetic to him.

You’re innocent. Naïve. Foolish, to be totally honest. How could you possibly hope to survive out there without his protection? Teyvat is not nearly as safe as you wish to believe, the gods that you find reprieve in oftentimes uncaring to the suffering of their believers. He knows that from experience, and yet you still refuse to believe him. Everything that he’s done is for your sake, ungrateful as you are—it’s a miracle that he hasn’t exposed you to the true nature of the world in order to stop your incessant nagging.

Scaramouche doesn’t even think he asks much of you, either. All that he expects you to do is sit still. Remain by his side, allow him to shower you with love and ꒰more importantly꒱ keep you safe. Not… sulking around in the room he’d prepared specifically for you, not wildly declaring that ‘you’d never asked him for his protection!’—no, not at all!

So, no, he doesn’t feel any sort of remorse for his actions. What he's done is simply for your own good, and you’re simply foolish to not appreciate that. If he didn’t love you as much as he did, you would’ve been disposed of a long time ago. At the very least… be grateful for that.

જ⁀➴ zenith: would they ever break their darling? ˚⊹꒷

In a way, it’s simply an inevitability with him. Entanglement with the Fatui has rarely ever spelt out positive outcomes for those involved, something you’ll learn because of Scaramouche’s attempts to protect you. Living within his carefully constructed dollhouse doesn’t do much to dim the memories of your old life, nor does it do anything to quell the urge for freedom burning deep within your bones. Awareness of the world you’d once known and fear at the very notion of being struck beneath his control for the rest of your life… None of it bodes well for your mental health, either.

Lacing it with the violence made common from the Fatui, or the punishments inflicted on you in hopes of finally destroying your will to escape ꒰whether they be physical or mental꒱—it’s really no surprise to see the ambitious spark within your eyes eventually being snuffed out.

Isolation alone is already enough to drive the average person insane. With all that you’ve been dealing with on top of that, it’s honestly quite commendable that it doesn’t happen sooner.

At first, Scaramouche doesn’t take this new development of yours well. Your lack of response, lack of reaction to even the cruelest insults of his being hurled at you—to even his mere presence—it freaks him out, slipping beneath his guard and making him feel as though you’ve already abandoned him. Really, how dare you not pay attention to him? Are you mad? Or is this just your latest attempt at escape? Aren’t you just trying to fool him? To make him believe that you’d learned your place just to turn around and sneak away?

It must be.

He doesn’t leave your side unless necessary, having his soldiers keep watch on you whenever something pulls him away. Whatever new game you’re playing at, he’s determined in his attempts to stop you before you can take a single step outside. Days turn into weeks. Weeks into months. His patience wears thin, the realization you still haven’t done anything hovering over him and sending him into frenzies. But coupled with your newfound compliance to his commands, the way that you numbly follow along with any plans he makes for the both of you—well, he’s eventually forced to realize that you don’t even intend to try running.

As much as he finds himself enjoying your obedience, a part of him simply can’t help but miss your spark. The delicious fear that glazed over your eyes when you were caught doing something suspicious, the fits of passion that led you to stupidly defy his orders… They’d been aspects of you—aspects of the version of you Scaramouche initially fell in love with, the version of you that stubbornly persisted when you still had the opportunity to back away from him.

But this version of you doesn’t move away whenever he pulls you into his arms, doesn’t recoil from the touch of his fingers as if he’d somehow burnt you. This version of you doesn’t cry and beg him to go outside, doesn’t fight against him when he goes on tangents confessing his love to you—occasionally grants him the chance to hear an ‘I love you, too.’ slipping past your lips.

Ultimately… that’s good enough for him.

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#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #wanderer #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere alphabet

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woneuntonzz · 3 months

Text

lover's rock 🎸♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚

song eunseok x afab!reader

warning/s: cussing, mentions of alcohol, other substances and smoking! suggestive!!

genre: songfic, hurt/comfort

word count: 5.8k words!!

˗ˏˋ while the others talked, we were listening to lover's rock ˎˊ˗ —because love can burn like a cigarette.ᐟ

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your friends wondered when you'd get tired of the parties, or if that moment would ever come. They were worried it would founder your hopes and dreams of a better life, to reach a point of fulfillment and content.

If you were being honest, you already were content with the sleepless nights whether it be from the workload or from the edibles, the inebriating fog, the alcohol and the raging lights of the frat parties.

You had always assured your friends that your sobriety stands strong whenever you needed it.

And for that you savored the times when you would meet Eunseok, just you and him in a forsaken room in the frat house doing the deed as they'd say.

It all started the first time you had ever gone into one of these parties. It was not only your academics, but it was just life by and large that weighed down on you. It got so heavy that you thought everything would just come crashing down, so you thought, why not just unfetter yourself completely —besides, you were already close to falling off anyways.

You quaffed, and quaffed, but too much was never enough.

“Haven't seen you 'round here before.” your eyes were locked straight ahead, looking off into the distance and overlooking the lustful scenes that were in play before you.

You wouldn't acknowledge his presence until he spoke again. “Where's your boyfriend at?”

A scoff was extruded from your mouth. “Are trying to fuck me?”

He was surprised with your response. Sure, he would've heard it from every other girl in that party, and in many different ways, but he didn't expect it from you. “Not really, but if you want to, who am I to say no, right?”

You emptied your drink and threw the cup to the side. “Where's your girlfriend at?”

He leaned in close and chuckled into your ear, and the sensations it gave you were indescribable at best. It could've been the alcohol, or the intoxicating ambience, but you felt it threatening to pierce through the pith of your very conscience.

“There's an empty room upstairs.” The urgency and the lust in his voice tainted your already wasted state.

In a trice, you were all up in each other's faces. He inhaled your haze, picking up on the excessive amounts of substance that burned your throat. The pleasure he gave you was none like you have ever felt in your life.

Once reaching your highs, you would continue to drown yourself with his touch for a while before getting off of him and hopping back into your clothes.

You were too intoxicated and your cognition was cloudy, you weren't able to catch his lingering and longing eyes.

The only reason you deemed this particular experience profound was for it being your first time, and never because of who you had wasted away with. You had buried yourself in these ravaging walls of reckless vices knowing that no one would ever be worth your regard. They were all the same, some worse than others, but none you would ever be entwined with.

After a few weeks, you would meet him again for the second time, and spend the rest of the night with him for the same purpose. This time he would be a little more vocal unlike before where it had seemed like he was taking in your unruly state.

This time he would speak before you even got to stand up.

“My name's Eunseok, in case you wanted to know.” he just watched you snub him for the second time.

You would go back to these parties every so often, and every night would end with him. There could be a line of jerks wanting to taste a gist of you, but he was always there. You swore he must've fucked a whole roster by now, but he somehow always got to you.

It was unclear whether he's always present in these parties or if he only went after a certain period of time, but you figured it must be the former. With how easily you gave in to his voice that dripped honey, and his musk that overpowered the smoke that filled the air, you thought you were just an easy way for him to satisfy his hunger.

It was for the seventh time that you would stay a little longer. You were exhausted, so much so that the alcohol was not enough to block off the hole bored in your heart.

You breathed heavily and allowed yourself to lie next to him, your bear chest heaving up and down, trying to hold back the tears. It was pathetic. You felt pathetic, pathetic enough to fool around with the same guy every time to run away from your problems.

Eunseok would offer to light you a cigarette. You took the one he had in between his lips that he had already lit, and you huff and cough at your first draw. He chuckled under his breath, fighting the queries he had about you from slipping off of his tongue. He would throw his head back and continue to puff on in the same rhythm as you.

After that night, you kept yourself stable for as long as you could. You came to terms with accepting the endless cruelty of the life you were given, because even if you uttered the same prayer a million times things will always remain the same.

You would resort to smoking off-campus near the convenience store as a means of stress-relief without having to worry about making yourself appear sober for others when your mind is afloat.

It's been almost three months of refraining from going back to that riotous place. You eye the cigarette as you bring it in between your lips, and suddenly you are reminded of the last night you had with him. You can't help but wonder if he'd still be there if you went, or if he'd have his skin against somebody else's as you looked for him in the haphazards.

“It's been a while.” you uttered to your phone that you held with your free hand whilst the other held your waning cigar.

“Yeah? and what? you'll be hung over the whole day after?” you grazed your teeth against your bottom lip from hearing your friend's chiding.

“I'll be fine.” your friends could never stop you anyway.

You all lived separate lives, and most of your problems stray far from each other's concerns. You just happened to have friends with lives as miserable as yours, as a result, you would only have the strength to fend for yourselves and be unable to actively be there for one another.

The night that followed, you were back in that same place where you had let go of your innocence, where it shone red and reeked of ecstasy. This time though, you had no intentions of downing as much as you can to chase that dazed feeling that numbed you from the afflictions.

“You're here.” you turned around to face from whom the voice belonged. From the mere second he spoke, you knew it was him, it was only his voice that would always lead you to a night of intense euphoria.

It wouldn't take long until your lips were locked, drawn to each other like magnets. He would take you to the same room that remained untouched even after the boundless streaks of parties.

You expected him to handle you like he always did, but he was a lot more… gentle. You've gone a while without being touched by anyone other than yourself, and his touch burned your skin with bliss. He whispered sweet nothings into your ears, and he lifted you up to the stars.

“I missed you.” —it fell off of his mouth, though you wouldn't think much of it, thinking it must've been his pleasure speaking.

He would keep you locked in his arms. If you were being honest, you didn't want to leave just yet, but you subtly fought him off of you which would soon prove to be defiable.

“It's true, you know. I really did.” you felt his thumb making circles near your wrist.

You were unsure of what he was referring to, but you assumed. I missed you too —you would reply to him in your mind.

Still, nothing was salvaged by the end of the night. You two would part ways like you always did, only this time, you failed to see his hand desperately reaching for yours as you walked out of the house.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been a rich couple of days and very busy ones at that. You had your responsibilities, and you're finally facing them, masking your apprehension.

“You should join the group study, I beg you!” your friend shook you lightly.

“Why should I? I study better just by myself.” —which was true, but also an excuse to not engage in any circumstance of socializing.

“Please? just once? We can't even hang out that much anymore, and now we can't even study together?” your friend's pleas made you sigh.

“What are you saying? We can always study together, just without other people.” you calmly respond, but your friend persisted.

“Please?”

Before you knew it, you were being dragged to the campus lobby.

“Shit, I forgot my laptop. I'm gonna go grab it—”

“Ah-ah! I'll go get it for you, just wait here.” your friend was quick to talk over you with a speck of doubt that you will come back if you had gone away yourself.

Your lips formed a flat line, as you stood there and waited.

Naturally, your eyes wandered around the massive area of the lobby. There weren't many students, and the sounds of faint conversations and running printing and copy machines served as white noise for the students in the area. You noticed two groups of people at the study area, both in their own circles. You knew it would be in one of these groups that you'd be engaging with sooner or later.

Your eyes observed them, momentarily shifting to some other area in the lobby. You would look for too long though, and you would feel a pair of eyes just dawning to stare.

“Eunseok?” you mumbled to yourself.

“Hey.” you jolted from your spot when your friend nudged you, causing her to cackle. “Come on, they're over there.”

You two walked to the other group of people, the one that he wasn't a part of.

Your friend would introduce you to the group, and you would just give them a light smile, with not much care —if not none at all.

Only one side of your figure was visible to Eunseok. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. It wasn't the first time he had seen you around, he wasn't sure if you had seen him around too, but by the way you reacted to seeing him, he figured you might've never even noticed him all this time.

He was forced into that party, he never enjoyed it until you showed up. Although he savored every night with you, he wanted to know why you would drink so relentlessly, why you'd frequent the party, and why you'd stop showing up and suddenly coming back months later.

He didn't approach you by chance. He had always thought, if only he could turn back time, it would be in the campus where he'd greet you and ask for your contacts if he was feeling lucky. He wouldn't be so attached and latch onto his feelings by expressing what he could not with words through his actions. He was well aware that it's one-sided, but he wished you would keep coming back, just enough for him to slowly get you to stare back into his eyes.

He was consistent. During those nights, his eyes eagerly chased after yours, wanting to take a peek into the depths of your soul. You always rejected his yearning, as you thought you shouldn't take anything to heart, or waste any of your thoughts.

His eyes would linger on your profile as he was still trying to reach for your attention. You weren't able to hold back seeing from the corner of your eyes, just how fixated he was with you. You glanced at him, and his gaze would soon be accompanied with a bashful smile, behind it, he would feel hopeful. Maybe this time he'd be able to finally ask.

“Can I have your number?” —the way he had envisioned it in his mind; he would ask you before you got the chance to walk away from him again. He would accomplish catching you before you got away, but he would soon find himself unclothed, laying on your bed as you catched your breath.

His question caused your eyes to slowly flutter open, meeting his the moment your vision cleared up. He was in awe, you had the flair of enchanting him without even actually doing much. Your stare was melting him, and he felt so elated that he was finally able to capture your full heed.

“I thought you'd never ask.” he had never heard your voice in such a mellow tone before.

He was drowning in your essence. As much as you'd like to deny it, your attraction to him started shifting. His smile was bright and wide as he typed to save your number in his contacts. He would smile at you again, so sweetly that your breathing would become unstable.

You had never noticed these things about him, but then suddenly you would find yourself meandering about the very little things about him, even in his absence.

Your meets would be more frequent, and there would be no getting wasted or overbearing party noises.

The two of you would remain oblivious towards the fact that your intents were changing every time you would meet.

Your eyes would light up more and more whenever you stumbled upon him around the campus, and you would get bolder each time to maintain eye contact as you both acted like you weren't all over each other the night before.

“Hi Eunseok!” your sudden pep would shock him and your friend who would always be a witness to your little talks.

“Hi Y/n, long time no see!” he would place his hand on your shoulder and lightly squeeze. “You headed to class?”

“No, just finished actually.” —which was code for: meet me in my room in 20 minutes.

He would only smile and wave goodbye to you and your friend and walk past you.

“You know him?” your friend asked.

“Just recently.” you shrugged.

“You two must have a thing huh. Tell me you like him or you're failing calculus!” you lightly laughed at your friends.

“Alright, alright! maybe I do.” your friend playfully hit you, as she smiled.

“You'd have to tell me all about it! otherwise I would think he's just selling you drugs.” you immediately shush her making her emit a chortle.

“It's nothing like that!” you laughed. “Let's talk about it some other time, I feel tired, I'm gonna get myself some sleep.”

You walked off to the same direction where Eunseok had gone, and the rest was just as you would imagine.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Messaging each other in the middle of lectures was not anything new to the both of you, but it was with this message that he altered something in your brain.

You would walk in your dorm room and he would be sitting at the edge of the bed, looking right into your eyes as you closed the door behind you with your foot.

“How long have you been here?” you ask him.

“A while.” his eyes traveled down to your hoodie —his hoodie. “I forgot I left that here.”

You blinked a couple of times before looking down on the clothing that kept your body warm. “Shit, I thought this was one of mine, sorry.”

The sweet sound of his chuckle just made you want to just dissipate right then and there. As an attempt to hide the heat rising up to your cheeks, you walked over to him and straddled his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and planted kisses all over his face, gradually making your way down. You wouldn't be able to proceed when he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He would lay his head sideways on your shoulder and watch as you continuously blinked, stunned by his behavior.

The way he just comfortably let his weight fall on you, breathing in your scent contradicts the way you have thought of him all this time.

Your hands would make their way to his hair, running your fingers through ever so gently. He closed his eyes and held you even closer. He felt your heart, beating at the same pace as his.

You wanted to ask him what happened, but you kept quiet. You didn't want it to end. His breath warmed your skin as he hummed to the motions of your hands brushing through his hair.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Eunseok made you feel a lot of emotions, and they would only grow within every minute you had spent with him.

After a while, you two got comfortable enough to converse. You two shared the inquisitivity towards each other's lives. He would ask you what led you into that frat party, and you would answer. He would notice the tears threatening to fall from your pretty eyes.

“You can cry.” he would say in the most endearing way he possibly could, guiding your head to lay on his chest as you both lay on the tight space of your bed.

Your watering eyes were unrelenting once you've let it break out of you for the first time in a while. He held you close, not caring for the wet patch that formed on his shirt. He just wanted you to feel safe and at ease in his presence. Though he never said it out loud, the way his thumb skimmed against the top of your hand as he held it tight told you just how much he truly cared for you.

“Your shirt's all wet now.” you weakly utter, frantically wiping the tears that streamed down to your neck.

With his other hand, he lightly pushed away yours that wiped on your swollen eyes and would use his thumb to carefully rid of the tears that subsided.

“You can cry on me all you want, love.” you wanted to tell him that he could do so to you too, but you felt weak in his embrace and you could only let him bury you under the covers with him as he caressed your hair.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

His friends and yours would fail to notice the flourishing fondness that the both of you knew of to be a mutual feeling that none of you ever dared to speak of it —for a while it felt like you didn't have to.

Soon your circle of friends would be associated with his own, one way or another, and the two of you would always be regarded with, “Oh, they've known each other for a while.”. Though, they would never really figure out just how long "for a while" has been.

The usual hang-outs outside of studying would be eating out and drinking a little. Your friends would be immersed in conversation and you would pretend to listen, laughing along when they did, but you were all eyes and ears only for him who would always sit across from you.

You two could only be immersed in each other's eyes that reflected your honeyed smiles. Your friends would think the two of you were just having the same fun as them and while it was true that you were happy, it would only be because of one another.

During your walk to the bus stop, he walked beside you, resisting the urge to just grab your hand and plant a kiss on it. But he couldn't. Your friends and some of his were still babbling on and about, a few in front of you and some following closely behind. You two could only laugh along at whatever it was they chattered about.

You had both agreed to rest the next morning and you would be awakened by a notification that sounded from your phone.

You got up, no second thoughts. You just wanted him to attack you with a hug till you both crash down on your bed.

When you opened the door, he had a guitar with him and a plastic bag that contained food. Your mouth hung open. He had never mentioned anything about playing any instruments during those times that you would snuggle into each other's arms and talk.

You had seated yourself on your desk chair as you watched him take out his guitar from its casing.

“Eat up, love. I'm gonna play you a song.”

You already had the food in your hands, but you couldn't take a bite just yet. You wanted to hear the sweet melody from the strum of his guitar.

He looked up at you and started playing Girl by Men I Trust.

He had secretly been listening to your playlist on a daily basis, and learning to play as many of the songs that he could with his guitar. He was able to pick out the ones you listened to the most.

His voice took your breath away. He sounded even more beautiful when he sang. His eyes stare lovingly into the windows of your psyche, singing every word with the adoration in his heart that he had only for you.

When he finished, you would jokingly tell him to stop so you could eat. He would just chuckle at you and put away his guitar. You'd stand up and sit next to him, feeding him before taking a bite for yourself.

The next time he'd visit, he would bring his guitar again, this time playing Stargazing by The Neighbourhood.

It just so happens that the song described the feelings he had for you perfectly, and so he would sing every word to you like a love letter. He loved the way you would raise your shoulders at a certain point of the song, and how you would shy away from his gaze as he sang.

Every time he would ask if he could come over or when you asked him to, you would pace around your room as you waited for him to appear with his guitar, and the initial cause of this setting you had would be completely disregarded. You two only desired each other's stares, you longed for his enamoring voice and he yearned for your saccharine giggles.

You two would be comfortable enough to move to more spacious areas around the campus. One instance would be in an empty lecture hall. When he wasn't equipped with his guitar, you two would listen to your playlist from the speakers of your phone.

You two would go on for months, indulging in each other's affections. Still, there was no commitment established, and the both of you failed to see it. You thought it would be for the best. You fear that if you'd let yourself tell him how much you love him, you would never be able to detach yourself from him.

And that time would come around. You had both graduated, and you were set to move out of town for work.

When you told him, all he could say was, “I'm gonna miss you like crazy.” The crack in his voice made you want to kiss him, to tell him that you'll always love him, that you'd stay for him.

When you left, you tried to keep in contact with him. He lost count for the many times you had apologized in your messages whenever you got too busy with work. He would always be active to reply to you, and would update you with the things he had been up to recently. When you came home from work, he would send you videos of him playing your favorite songs on his guitar nightly.

You broke down one night, realizing that everything was falling apart. You hated yourself for being too tired to acknowledge his efforts. Even then, none of you ever brought up your unsaid feelings about your relationship.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been two years. You found yourself winding back to your old habits of smoking, and drinking every so often. You would lose contact with Eunseok, and not even willingly.

Your old phone got robbed off of you. It took you a while to recover from the robbery, you lost a good amount of money too. Getting a new phone took months. You still had his number in your wallet, but you never bothered to contact him again. You were afraid that your sudden disappearance had caused him to resent you.

Though, you would contact your friend again, explaining to her everything that had happened. That friend of yours was one of the few that stayed back in your hometown. She told you that she never saw Eunseok around after you had gone away.

Your guilt was eating you up, and you wish you could just cry onto his chest again like you used to, but now you would never be able to go back to those tender moments.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Hey, I just called to tell you that I'm having a party and I want you here!” your friend's loud voice bursted through your phone's speakers.

“I don't even know how I'd get there, and I have work.” you tried to chuckle towards the end of your sentence, but somehow you weren't able to.

“Y/n, you've been refusing our help ever since you went out of town. We just want to see you, I want to see you, just to make sure you're still alive and well and not slowly killing yourself.” you gulped as she spoke.

“I'll try to come.” you voiced out, your voice fading out into the distance.

“Uh-uh, you're definitely coming.” Your friend's urges were enough for you to gather the courage to ask your boss for a sick leave the night before the party.

In your train ride, you would have your eyes closed, still wary of the possibility that you might see him there. Your friend told you that he hadn't talked to any of them since you've been gone, and you just couldn't get your mind off of the thought that he might've done something to hurt himself, or to hurt you. But you felt as if you had no right to get hurt if ever he had found someone to take your place, after all, it was you who made the choice to deny your heart's aching for him.

Your friend met you at the train station and led you to her home. You were happy that she was doing well. She was just getting ready for the party and you had offered to help, but she insisted that you just rest from your long trip back to your hometown.

“Who's coming?” you asked, with that tiny bit of anticipation that his name would come out of your friend's mouth, even though you knew just how much it would hurt you to see him again.

“Our friends from college, and some other people —also from college, a bunch of IG mutuals I had that attended the university.” your friend would be focused on fixing everything up for the party as you silently wished in your mind.

I want to see him, just to see him. It doesn't matter if he hates me, I hate myself too, he deserves nothing but all the love in this world. —your head hangs low, tiring your sanity with your melancholic thoughts.

“You okay?” you nod weakly at your friend, unable to utter a reply or even give a little smile.

When people start arriving, you anxiously dipped your hands into the pockets of your coat, hiding the shakiness as you gave everyone the best smile you could pull out.

You tried to answer as straight-foward as possible for your friend's curiosity towards your life after you've moved. You had told them about your unfortunate encounter with an unsuspecting young woman that turned out to be a thief. Despite your friends' consolations, you tried to laugh it out, but it was very faint and they could almost feel how tired you are of everything.

Later in the night, you would stand alone by the snack bar, munching on the sweets, bit by bit. You would eventually get tired of chewing, and you'd go outside the house, pulling out a cigarette from the pack that hid in your coat's left pocket. You held it in between your lips to light it.

“Where's your boyfriend at?”

You dropped your lighter, as a ringing started to go off in your head. Your tears started to fall without notice. You felt yourself getting weak in the knees. It might've been the memories that filled the air of this town that was making you hear things, but you were broken out of your trance when your face was already pressed into the same chest that would let you cry for hours and voice out your problems, the one that encloses the heart that would only beat for you.

You muffled your sobs as you pressed your face against him, uttering an apology over and over again.

“Hey, hey, don't be sorry.” his voice would be as weak as yours as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

You would look up into his eyes for the first time in years, and from there, his tears would break out of him. You pulled him close to your neck. “You can cry on me for as long as you want, my love.”

A soft sob would escape his lips and fill your ears.

“Please stay. I love you so much, my Y/n.” it was all you've ever wanted to hear.

It was hard for you to believe, but after two years, he was still as in love as when you left him.

He'd take you to his place that night, and you two would make love like it was the first time all over again. You two would listen to the videos of him singing and playing your favorite songs with his guitar, and the very last one he sent was Lover's Rock.

“You know, I wish I could've told you how much I loved you before you left, or the first time I played a song for you…” you felt the tears building up in your eyes once more as you took in his sweet voice, and his faint singing that would be drowned in the background.

“I wanted to say I love you the moment you started singing to me.” you shakily laughed as you failed to hold back your tears.

He chuckled and wiped your tears with his thumb. You sat up and faced him, his eyes were filled with so much love that you struggled to find your next words. You would shake yourself awake after a while and ask him,

“I've been meaning to ask you this, but I was too afraid to know the truth. Out of all the girls in that party, why me?”

Eunseok's eyes landed on your hands. He held them, and pressed his lips against the back of them.

“That time, It had only been a couple of weeks ever since I've had a crush on you. I thought you would recognize me, but as it turns out you didn't even know me from campus.” you would both chuckle softly when he had finished speaking. “How about you? out of all the guys you've fooled around with, why me?”

You tilted your head at him, making him laugh with how dear you looked. “I never fooled around with any other guy. You were my first, and last.”

He gently squeezed your hands. “Really? why not?”

“I mean, I already had you, didn't I?” you asked back. “I never knew it back then, but I would only keep coming back for you.”

He could only stare back, wandering into the image of the night sky in your eyes.

You were back in the same town in which you suffered the most, and where you'd be the happiest. It is where you had lost yourself completely, where you had your firsts, your first hangover, your first smoke, your first intercourse and your first love.

Even though it seemed like he lost you, you never lost him. He had just been waiting, and if you hadn't gone home to him, he would find you and love you like he always did.

Eunseok had thrown away your cigarettes, as he knew that you would only need each other from now on.

Fin.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

praying to God that y'all got the reference for the ending ><

#riize #riize fanfic #riize au #briize #riize x reader #riize angst #riize eunseok #song eunseok #eunseok #Spotify

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cloverdaisies · 8 months

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SNAP OUT OF IT (juyeon ver.) 🖤🎸

description: alternative rock band tbz, are on a wicked roll with their first tour "tbz: most wanted" and things just had to get more complicated for (your name) as another man just cannot keep his sly hands in his own pockets. Album based on AM - arctic monkeys.

snap out of it (eric ver.) 🖤🎸🎧

contains: (slight mature content, drugs misuse, suggestive themes, minors dni sil’vous plait, reader discretion advised but there’s nout too mental bit cliche really)

member: juyeon x reader

🔨🦺 editing in progress 🦺🔨

"i wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby snap out of it"

"under a spell you're hypnotised."

Radio announcer one: I honestly cannot get enough of this track, and neither can you guys as "snap out of it" by the Boyz continues to slaughter the music charts serving number one at the top of the charts for over two weeks now!

Radio announcer two: You mean they can't get enough of their lead singer Juyeon, I mean wow, what a man! He posted a picture on instagram earlier and the fans went absolutely nuts, so did Kerry in the studio didn’t you?

Radio announcer 1: Of course I did! He’s gorgeous, how could I not? Anyways to keep the theme going here’s another one of their tracks for you here on Radio Z..

Things for you have been complicated since you’d met Eric, unfortunately it didn’t take long to start the fire, the paparazzi had caught a photo of you two together - it spread online and absolutely enraged fans who according to their delusion smooth brains, thought he was the sweetheart of the band.

And it didn’t take them long to find you either.. your instagram was soon swamped with the vilest hate comments of all kinds, despite all of them being the most absurd untrue things you’d ever read.

Whilst both you and eric were distraught about the rumors, his manager was eating every piece of it up, dollar signs shining in his greedy eyes, taking the form of the greenest trees - awaiting the growth of the desired image he had for Eric, to be like the rest of his band mates, immersed in sex drugs and have a tainted image that was clean enough to attach people..

———————

A week later and no contact from Eric, trying to distance himself was probably the best thing he thought he could do in this situation to try help you get out of this mess.

However, you had another problem on your hands:

02:57: Juyeon (3) missed calls

(1 new message)

Juyeon: Hey (your name), you can’t ignore me for much longer darling.

Juyeon would not leave you alone.

You didn’t know why, or what he had in mind when he left multiple missed calls and messages as if he hadn’t seen another person before in life, or he was doing it for the sake of medaling in Eric’s “little love life”.

Juyeon is calling….

Rolling over in the sheets of your bed, knowing you weren’t gonna get any shut eye if you didn’t at least answer once so you grabbed the phone and answered the phone with a slam of your thumb on the accept button.

“What, Juyeon?”

“Oh. So you answered? *laugh*.” His sinister chuckle was self explanatory that he’d gotten either high or pissed out of his mind before calling you.

“Why’d you only call me when your high?” You sighed, rubbing your eyes in tiredness not being able to sleep because of the constant vibrations from the bedside table.

“I just wanted to know darl, you coming out tonight?” His voice was gruff and low, tempting as lucifer’s own words, but you were smart enough to understand he didn’t know his left and rights at the present moment.

“No, it’s 3 in the fucking morning, I’m going to sleep. I have to be up the morning. Leave me alone.” With that you hung up and luckily your phone didn’t ring again.

——

A week without those suspicious, phone calls was bliss you slept peacefully for the first time in weeks without anyone medaling with the cycle.

Of course, naturally the peace was short lived, and the phone calls returned except this time it was noon, an unusual time for Juyeon to message you.

Juyeon: Hi darling, the band are doing a secret pop up show tonight, just a small venue, would love it if you came x

You: As if your fans aren’t already crawling up my ass about being anywhere near you, hard no x

Juyeon: Can easily be solved with backstage lovely x

You: Still a no x

Then another message from someone you hadn’t heard from in weeks since the incident that tore you to pieces mentally. How considerate of him.

Eric: Please come so he’ll shut the fuck up, I’m so sorry, do us a favor.

You: Sorry but why would I do you of all people a favor matey ?

Eric: Just this once.

You: Fine but if it’s a shit show, I’m gonna be mad as hell.

Eric: Thanks, sorry again.

So, with that you dolled yourself up and got ready to leave the house for a night you’d never dreaded more, you felt as if you were being lured in by some sorts of dark forces. However, there was something so thrilling about having connections to one of the biggest alt bands.

You’d made your way down to the venue and out of the cab that and dropped you there, you were dressed to perfection in the eyes of yourself and everyone who caught a glimpse of you that night.

The venue chosen, was a small industrial bar not too far out of the city, it was a quite spacious but definitely couldn't handle a capacity more than 100-200 people, the place was lined with a dark polished wood and lit cozily with a dim warm lighting, highlighted with a pool table as the centrepiece of the place.

Immediately spotted by security at the doors, you were ushered into a dark corridor at the back of the place and then thrown into the noisy room at the end.

The sounds of incoherent instrument practice stopped as you turned around to see Hyunae and Sunwoo in states of confusion upon seeing you.

"You actually came." Sunwoo looked up at you in shock, the cigarette between his lips threatening to fall and set the place a light.

"Yeah shocker she'll be doing a lot of that when he's done with her." Hyundai chuckled boyishly, at the crude comment which earned a high five from Sunwoo and a twisted chuckle.

"You're both vile excuses for human beings, where are the other two of your kind?" You smiled sarcastically, watching them brush off your comment with laughter.

"One's preparing something very special for you, fuck knows where Eric is." Hyunjae shrugged, taking off his bass guitar and leaving the room to grab another drink from the bar.

"What does something very special mean?" You looked at Sunwoo with a glare, your arms folded over one and other in front of your torso.

"You'll have to see, I can't tell you another man's surprises." He surrendered his hands up in the air, and went back to viciously practicing the drums to avoid anymore conversation.

You wandered through to the bar to ask Hyunjae the same question you’d asked Sunwoo, also to get yourself a drink to try make the night a little less nerve wracking.

“Hello gorgeous.” The familiar devilish, northern english, voice echoed through your ears, the presence of someone’s body heat behind you making your skin crawl in temptation. “Can I get you a drink?”

*insert no diggity juyeon right here* All wrapped up in a crushed velvet suit with a causal t-shirt tucked underdeath, his hair was slicked back and emphasizing all the right sharp features of his face. A glass of Jack on ice firmly grasped in his right hand he smiled down at you.

“Sure.” You turned back around to the bar, already quite crowded with people lining up to be served, none of them knowing remotely who tbz were.

“I heard you had a surprise for me tonight. Care to explain?” You asked trying to ignore the fact he was practically leant over you with one arm on the bar, sending shivers through every bone in your body.

“You’ll find out in ten minutes, darling.” Before you could ask anymore questions, the bartender rushed over to serve him - ordering you a double rum and coke with a lime, served on ice in a small crystal glass.

After he did so, he handed you the glass, but before you could grab it his large defined hand grasped yours, bringing it to his lips causing all oxygen to stop entering your body as you held your breath, his soft lips touching the the back of your hand and leaving a gentle kiss. But why?

Despite the feeling the electric sensation between the two of you, you still couldn’t trust that his affection was pure, like no other man did he make you feel, it felt as if you’d found some sort of evil twin flame connection. It felt so good but you just couldn’t trust his image, he was 100% fucking with you, for his own entertainment. At least that’s what you’d gathered.

You needed to ask the only trustworthy source close to him, and that was unfortunately Eric.

Amps, Microphones and a set of drums were all set up at the front of the bar, you’d been quietly moved to a balcony area in front of all the action with a few other staff members and friends of the band.

You watched as they got into place on the stage area, Juyeon walking on to adjust his mic, looking up at you as if to check you were there. Eric doing the same, making his first appearance of the night, sending you a shy smile.

“Hello, kingsley inn, we are a small local band I’m sure you’ve never heard of. We’re here to play a few of our tracks and I hope you’d enjoy them” Juyeon gave the place an on brand sarcastic introduction, the older regulars of the bar probably believing it word for word.

First they played “Snap Out of It”, Juyeon’s voice sounded unreal, with it’s highlights being the lower tone and accent, Hyunjae and Eric complimenting him with their higher register backing vocals.

“I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake baby, snap out of it, I get the feeling I’ve left it to late but baby, snap out of it”

You couldn’t help but sing a long quietly, admittedly it was an amazing song, and made you feel a certain way that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The way Juyeon looked as he performed it, swaying along to the beat at certain parts, his facial expressions he was truly a work of art, as most people thought.

The song came to a close, and the bar broke out into a small applause for the band as they began preparing for the next song.

“Hey.” You heard a voice next to you, looking up to see a boy with thin framed round glasses and beanie a large camera hung around his neck. “Are you (your name)?”

“I am, why do you ask?” You looked over suspiciously at the boy, who stared blankly back at me.

“Oh I’m Kevin, the band’s photographer.” He awkwardly held up the camera, “I’ve just heard your name going around the past few weeks from someone in particular.”

“Juyeon or Eric?” You sighed in frustration looking the boys messing around with their band equipment on stage.

“Well both, but I’d say Juyeon may have developed some sort of infatuation with you.” He spoke awkwardly as if he was keeping many secrets in his bank of overheard information.

“Well? Spill then.” You spoke abruptly, wanting to grasp more information from the boy who seemed to more than he should.

“A man never tells another man’s secrets. But he doesn’t have any bad intentions, I guess what I do know about Juyeon, he has a very addictive personality, he sees or finds something he likes and he wants it, badly.” Kevin spoke minimally trying to reassure you as much as he could without disturbing Juyeon’s privacy

All of a sudden the guitar chords began again as another song was about to be played, Juyeon’s lips that were sealed around a cigarette now closing in on the mic.

“This next song is dedicated to someone special, it’s so thing we’re working on to be released very soon. This is “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” As the words fell from his lips your stomach dropped, remembering the conversation from last week, he’d used it for a song? You were halfway between being outraged and startled by the sudden announcement.

The song had a beautiful baseline but questionable lyrics about Juyeon’s desire for you but his habits seem to get in the way.

“Now it’s 3 in the morning and I’m tryna change your mind left you multiple missed calls and to my message you replied ‘Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’”

It was such a good song, but you couldn’t look past the fact he’d written a song about you? Did he really find you that infatuating? And the answer was yes, yes he did.

For the moment he laid his eyes on you, the words were already in the notepad as he smoked up and drank next to a grand piano. His brain couldn’t shake the image of you, he was jealous someone else had their eyes on you, since he thought Eric had. He had to do something chivalrous that would one up Eric’s advances. At least that’s how his brain thought of things.

The words in the pad read those from ones of a famous poem “I wanna be yours.”

(Switch song - I wanna be yours , Arctic Monkeys )

Which was the next song to play, a mellow song with a low sultry guitar and bass.

“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought, Baby I just wanna be yours.”

Juyeon sang the lyrics looking up at you every now and then, singing lyrics of desire and deep devotion that melted the ice he’d formed around your heart. It was a deeply romantic act that made him more attractive than he was already. Something that no man in the right mind would do as a practical joke, he meant every word of that song.

“Thank you for listening tonight, Kingsley. We’ve been the boyz.” Juyeon closed the set, leaving the stage and grabbing his drink from the side.

Shortly after disappearing from the side of the stage, you felt a hand grasp you. Juyeon seemed as if he’d ran up the stairs to see you, sweeping you into his arms.

“What did you think of the set darling?” He asked a hopeful glint lighting his eyes like a golden retriever, contrasting his usual seductive and enticing nature,

“I can’t tell if I want to kill you or kiss you.” You looked back up at him with a look of affection, admiration and also nerves.

“Do both, I don’t care. I just wanna be yours. ” His eyes dilated in deep feelings of love clouding every ounce of devilish charm he normally he has.

Soon returning as you pulled him into a passionate kiss in a more secluded area, by his collar melting him as he took control of the kiss, forcing you to surrender to love, lust and all in between.

He’d won and it would be hard for an upset observer, to accept that as they went back into the shadows of the night.

a/n: hello my daisies!! IM BACKKK AGAHWGW, no one can get rid of me, hope you enjoyed this imagine as much as i enjoyed writing it!! i will now be sleeping as I stayed up this late to finish it 😩🤍

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quixoticall · 3 months

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This Could Get Ugly Track 1: Before the Beginning

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.

warnings: It's the Daisy Jones and the Six!AU, Enemies to friends to lovers, Love triangles, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc., fake relationships, bad parents all around, era-typical misogyny and sexism, mentions of reader's looks (as being very beautiful), partially interview format, no use of YN

AN: Hi, if you're a longtime TCGU reader, please read this note from me explaining this new format. If this is your first time coming across This fic, welcome! Please enjoy my attempt at a Daisy Jones and the Six!AU with some Fleetwood Mac-messiness thrown in.

MASTERLIST🎸

Prologue 🎤

WC: 8.6K

***

STEVE: Right, so I just start talking into this microphone thing?

INTERVIEWER: Yes, but you need to introduce yourself first.

STEVE: You know who I am, we’ve known each other for—ah, okay, okay sorry. I’m Steve. Harrington, obviously. Former lead singer and guitarist of The Downsides. So, uh, where do I start?

INTERVIEWER: The beginning—tell me about how you first got involved with music.

STEVE: Right, okay, I can do that. I grew up kinda lonely. My dad was this big real estate investor but we lived in Indiana of all places, so he was always traveling. I don’t think I remember him ever being home for more than a month straight growing up… and my mom was there but she wasn’t there, ya know? She drank a lot and spent a lot of time in bed, that sort of thing.

***

1962-1972, Los Angeles California

Your childhood is a lonely one but it’s also a boring and predictable one.

Born in sun-soaked LA to a movie director father and his much younger model wife, two people who didn’t know each other well enough to either love or hate the other. They maintained a similar distance in their marriage as the one they tried to uphold in their individual relationships with you, their child.

So, your infancy was spent in a rotation of different nanny’s arms with your parents’ presence only dotting the periphery of your life. Who could blame them, after all? Infants are so contrived and boring compared to the big, wide, world of art that was Los Angeles in the 1960s. Your parents were far too busy trying to cement their legacy in the art they created and inspired to spend too much time looking after you.

(Much later in life, you would find yourself wondering if your parents ever saw the irony in the fact that your art ended up eclipsing their entire existence in the end and their only legacy was that of being your parents.)

As a child, however, you spent little time thinking of legacy and instead spent your time trying to feel less lonely.

***

STEVE: When I was a kid I would wonder why my parents even had me. Sorry, that’s like a total bummer thing to say during an interview. But it’s true. And you said to tell the truth. I never felt wanted by them. Until I got famous, and even then… but that’s not new, a lot of kids grow up feeling lonely, right?

***

The employees who raised you were nice enough, but they saw you for what you were: a means to an end. A paycheck with big, sad, beautiful eyes that may beget sympathy, but they couldn’t get too close to. The children you came to meet at your elite California private school seemed palatable enough at first, but the more you interacted with them, the more you found yourself at a loss. It was like they spoke a secret language you did not know—a language of price tags, and ever-changing hierarchies and thinly-veiled insults. One that your mother spoke perfectly, but never bothered to pass down to you.

You end up turning to books instead. The home library your father kept up for appearances’ sakes became your favorite room in the house and your teenage growth spurts were fed by any and all novels you could get your hands on from historical biographies to soapy romances, you read them all. You loved them all, but you loved poetry the most— emotive and raw in ways you were unfamiliar with. You liked the way the syllables rolled gracefully into one another and how each word served a purpose—compact with meaning and so unlike the people around you who were so careless with their words.

As you began to age, and the meaningless mess of childhood shifted into the sharpness of adolescence, you began to write yourself. One day, somehow you had the idea of putting your poetry to music. If you could write songs good enough to be played on the radio then maybe you could earn people's adoration through your art like your parents had, you reasoned. Maybe you could even earn their adoration. You beg your parents for piano lessons, and they scoff at the thought. “But what’s the point of having one if no one can play it?” You ask, referencing the piano in the grand foyer.

“That piano is not meant to be played,” your mother explains, slowly, “it’s meant to be admired by our guests.”

She walks away from the conversation before you can even protest.

Instead of giving up, though, you went to the library and borrowed all the books you could on music and piano playing and slowly began to teach yourself. You were not very good, at first, and both your parents made a habit of reminding you whenever they were around to hear you practicing. Luckily, they were rarely around.

***

STEVE: My parents signed me up for every single activity and extra-curricular you can think of: karate, basketball, pottery. The one that really stuck though, was guitar lessons. Soon, that was the only thing I wanted to do it was something I was actually good at. Not something I had potential in, not something I was passable at. It was something I was good at. My dad did not like the idea of me going into music at first—he wanted me to take on a “manlier” hobby—but even he couldn’t deny that I was talented, and he sent me to this specialized music school in Indianapolis. That’s where I met Robin. That’s when I stopped feeling so alone.

ROBIN: Robin Buckley, brass, bass, and synth for The Downsides.

I met Steve when we were thirteen, I think, at this fancy music school in Indianapolis. I was there on scholarship. I’m not going to lie, he was obnoxious, but most thirteen-year-old boys are. Even then, though, there was something about him that made everyone want to be his friend. He was also really talented. He never had to work very hard to be good at something, but he worked hard anyway. I hated him at first, but he wore me down and we eventually became best friends.

***

1978

Your music became a good outlet for all your loneliness and anger and disappointment, but it was not a cure for any of those things. You craved friendship and commonality and to be liked beyond the surface.

One day, when you were towards the end of seventeen, you decided to go exploring. You had heard Emily Cooke whispering salaciously in the girls’ bathroom at school about sneaking into the Whiskey A Go-Go to see The Six playing and an idea began to blossom.

Your home was only a walking distance from the Strip, the aptly named piece of street that was lined with clubs and musical venues, so that day, after hearing Emily’s plan you decided to try your luck at the Whiskey. You loved music, after all, and you wanted to be good at it, like the musicians that played there. Plus, there were others that shared those interests and the was a chance that some of them would be more tolerable than Emily Cooke.

You waited in line, by yourself, donning an outfit that you hoped made you look older than you were in an organic, cool way. When you made it to the doorman, you smiled trying to look more confident than pleading. His eyes raked over your body once, then twice and you resist the urge to flinch away. You had known then that you were beautiful—mostly because it was the only thing your mother valued in you— but what you hadn’t known was how far just being beautiful could get you. The doorman had let you in the club, not even questioning when your voice wavered while you had told him you were older than you actually were.

***

ROBIN: Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Steve was my first kiss.

INTERVIEWER: Uh, Robin?

ROBIN: Oh, right…. Well, whatever, Steve Harrington was my first kiss. He was also the first person I told that I liked girls. I knew from a really early age that I didn’t find men attractive but when Steve kissed me at our high school dance I had this immediate realization and I sorta burst out, “Steve, I like girls.” It was a really great moment of self-awareness for me—growing up as a girl, they always try to put you in this box of like feminity and being whatever men wanted you to be, including an object to be looked at or pawned over. I didn’t know how being gay fit into all that, until that moment.

I don’t think it was that great of a moment for Steve, though.

STEVE: She told you about that? Well, for the record, it wasn't that I wasn't happy for her, it's just when you're a teenage boy and if your first crush admits she's a lesbian moments after you kiss her for the first time, well, it does not do your ego any favors, does it?

***

The moment you walked through that door, your life became severed in two: the before and the after. You watched, from the fringe of the crowd, as Billy Dunne crooned soulfully, and the audience sang his own words back to him.

You briefly imagine yourself on the stage, being someone that people would actually want to come see, someone that people would listen to. Someone people would love.

***

STEVE: I always knew I wanted to be in music. It was the only thing that ever made sense. Wait, no, that’s not right… It’s the only thing that ever made life make sense. So, I started working at it, like seriously working it at, when I was 16. I bought as many records as I could, figured out what I liked, what I could do, and I practiced all the time. Like all the time. Robin did, too. I would play the guitar and sing, and she was insane on the trumpet and bass. I don’t think we ever sat down and had a conversation about whether we wanted to form a band or even what we wanted for ourselves in the future. We just always knew it was going to be the two of us, and we were going to be making music. Of course, you can’t have a band with only a guitar and a trumpet, so we had to start looking for more members.

***

1980

From that point on, your life had purpose.

You began to study everything about music—obsessively. You collected records, you played the piano until your fingers became cramped and sore or until your mother yelled at you to stop.

You filled notebook after notebook with lyrics, some good, many bad.

But you also kept your eyes on the tabloids and the gossip rags and the fashion magazines. To be a successful musician, you had to be good of course, but you also had to be well-liked. Growing up in the environment you did had given you a very unique perspective on this. Since infancy, you had seen hopeful artists-to-be approach your father for a chance, or ask your mother for advice. The most successful of them were not always the ones who had the best things to say, but those who said what they had to say in the best way.

You practiced giving fake interviews in front of your mirror and in the shower. You stayed on top of trends and bought the best-fitting clothes. And most importantly, you tried to associate yourself with all the right people.

By the time you turned 18, you were well-known, even beyond the Strip. Photos of you standing next to the bass player/drummer/guitarist/lead singer of whatever band might have been riding a momentary wave of popularity at the time began to appear in tabloid magazines.

Most of them were men. Most of them wanted something out of you. You became a master in the art of giving just enough for them to think they had a chance with you if it meant that you could learn from them or convince them to listen to one of your songs. But every time you would even mention the idea that you wrote music, you would come hit a wall of patronizing, feigned interest followed by a grab at your chest.

Then came Jason Carver. Lead singer of the Letterman’s, Jason Carver. You dated him for a few weeks, right after you had turned 18. He was 25 and just charming enough for you to overlook his frequent condescension. Plus, he had promised that he would teach you a few chords on the guitar.

One day, you had come over to his apartment and he was getting all worked up because the band’s label was on his ass about writing a song and he couldn’t quite get it right. He needed to write a love song, something introspective and sweet but Jason could only churn out party anthems and songs meant to be played in dive bars.

Eventually, after hearing him gripe for what seemed like an eternity, you sent him off to take a shower and in the meanwhile compiled all of his shreds of half-lines and began to work filling in the gaps. Forty minutes later, you had a solid chorus and first verse to present to him for a song you thought should have been called “All At Once”. You thought that this would’ve made him happy, after all, you had gotten him one step closer to a possible song. (And maybe, you had secretly hoped, in all of his gratitude he could be swayed to give you a writing credit on the song). Instead, he laughed at you like you were a child pretending to do an adult task and asked you to leave with a hasty promise that he would call you later that week. He never called. The hurt you felt was only a pin-prick. Six months later, you heard The Letterman’s on the radio: a new song by them called, “All At Once”. You tried to convince yourself for a moment that there would be no way that Jason could blatantly steal your song after having mocked you for even trying to write. But, boy, were you wrong. Those were, in fact, your lyrics, on the radio. Yes, the band had added another verse but, ultimately, your lyrics were all there. The same lyrics Jason had so easily dismissed six months prior.

That was when you realized if you were going to get ahead in the industry, you were going to have to play dirty, like Jason Carver.

***

ROBIN: We met Argyle in Chicago. Once we graduated high school Steve and I started working as subs for small bands in the Midwestern circuit. Yes, it was as grim as it sounds, but it paid the bills and helped us meet people. Argyle was the drummer of some Reggae band that needed a bass player for a few weeks when their bassist got arrested on possession charges. I subbed in and was immediately super impressed by his skills. People always underestimated Argyle, to this day, because of the whole vibe he gives off, you know? But he’s smart and adaptable. Anyway, when his bassist lost his case, the band broke up indefinitely and I tried my best to convince Argyle to join Steve and me. There were two of us, we’d never played an official gig, and we didn’t even have a name, but Argyle said yes. Next was Nancy. We held open auditions for a keyboardist once Argyle was onboard. After five passable auditions, Nancy Fucking Wheeler walks in in this long skirt and bows in her hair. She had a book of Debussy sheet music for God’s sake. I almost burst out laughing when I saw her because I thought she must have been lost but then, in true Nancy Wheeler fashion she blew us all away. Ugh, was that woman talented. And gorgeous. Steve’s jaw had to be crane-lifted off the floor, it was love at first sight.

STEVE: It was not. She’s exaggerating.

1980

Ironically, you met Murray Bauman at one of your parents’ parties.

You knew he was a music producer for Starcourt Records because he kept loudly boasting to his date about it. The same Starcourt Records that the Letterman’s were signed on to.

You waited until he was two gin martinis in and standing alone admiring your father’s latest art purchase before you approached.

“Hello,” you said, brandishing a dazzling smile, your whole body angled and ready to perform this familiar dance.

“Aren’t you the producer for the Letterman’s?”

He shot you a grin that borders on swarmy and said, “why yes, I am and you look like you’re out past your bedtime.”

You didn’t react to his statement and instead marched onwards, “I loved their latest song, ‘All At Once’ right? It’s so romantic.”

“Between you and me, I’m not sure how Carver popped that one out, he’s a bit of a meathead if you catch my drift.”

He didn’t wait to see your reaction before laughing at his own joke.

“Yeah, actually, I’m not surprised to hear that considering I dated him,” your eyes flashed in a way that you hoped came off as dangerous, “and that I wrote that song.”

He regarded you for a moment before breaking out in a laugh. When he saw your expression remained unchanged, he stepped back in assessment.

“Oh shit, you’re being serious.”

You only nodded grimly.

“Okay, well that’s a new one. Usually, girls come up claiming that one of those idiots impregnated them, not this.”

He regarded you again, searching for a trace of a lie. He sighed, “So let’s say that you did write the song, which, knowing what I know about those Neanderthals, I am willing to entertain the possibility of this being at least partially true, then what does that mean? You’re going to blackmail Starcourt? Do you want money?”

You gestured vaguely behind you, sure that he must have known who your parents were. “I don’t need money.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I write music. Obviously. I want to write for your label.”

A grin broke out across his face, “Oh, boy.” He started to laugh: a deep chuckle that floated up from his belly.

“You and every other Joe Schmoe in Hollywood, sweetie.”

“But not every other Joe Schmoe wrote a song for one of your most popular bands.”

Murray regarded you again, he gave you a look you’re all too familiar with. One that says he did not expect such a fight in such an unassuming package.

“Here’s the deal,” you start, taking his brief lapse to pounce, “all I want is for you to take my demo tape and listen to it, like actually listen to it. Do that and we never have to mention this again.”

“And if I say no to your little proposition?”

You smile at his question before offering a small piece of paper, “Then here’s the business card to my lawyer he’ll be reaching out.”

This, puzzlingly, makes the man burst out laughing once again.

“Let me get this straight, you just want me to listen to your tape? That’s the grand blackmailing scheme? No record deal, no music video?”

You shake your head in response, “No, I think my music speaks for itself. I just need to get it in front of the right person.”

Murray’s still chuckling to himself as he extends his hand out signaling for you to drop the tape you are now holding in his hands.

“Fine, but you are one shitty blackmailer.”

You were signed to Startcourt Records a month later.

***

STEVE: Once Nancy joined, we were a band, and so we needed a name. I suggested the Steve Harrington experience but the girls shot me down like, right away. We ended up fighting about names for like an hour. It was actually Argyle who ended up coming up with our name. The Downsides, he had said, since we were all so negative about everything. He had said this after Robin had said I was 'all hair and no brain'. Not the best of origin stories, I guess. But we liked it and that’s how we became The Downsides.

***

NANCY: Nancy Wheeler, former keyboardist for The Downsides.

I had been playing piano since I was eight, it was just one of those things my parents signed me up for to make me more well-rounded for college applications but I ended up loving it more than they had hoped.

I auditioned for the band on a whim, I was going to Indiana State at the time, getting my teaching degree but I loved playing the piano more than I would ever love being a teacher. To be honest, when I auditioned, I didn’t think they were going to take me, not even after I saw they had another girl in the band. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I had the talent for it, I just didn’t necessarily give off Rock and Roll vibes, but they accepted me anyway.

I had a feeling Steve liked me from the moment we met, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him then. He’s Steve Harrington for God’s sake. Girls had posters of him up on their walls for the better part of the 80s. I just—I didn’t want people to think I got the spot because I was involved with the lead singer. I wanted people to know that I earned my place through talent. Steve was really disappointed when I turned him down, but he was always really respectful about it.

That didn’t mean he stopped being interested or that I didn’t feel his eyes on me during every rehearsal in the summer of ‘81.

1981

Of course, you knew that when you had been signed to Starcourt Records it wasn’t completely because of your talent.

You had started to wonder, however, if Starcourt had given you a shot because they didn't want to risk litigation or maybe because those record execs had seen your name floating around in a magazine or, more importantly, your picture.

The more you thought about it, the more insecure about your place you had felt, like an imposter among others who had earned their spots. But, after one week of rubbing shoulders with the musicians over at Starcourt, you realized that to be able to make it, you were going to have to ooze confidence, even if that confidence was fake.

***

NANCY: We started playing gigs together around the Midwest. In the beginning, we mostly played covers but eventually, we started writing our own music. I’m not a great songwriter and, to be frank, neither is Steve, so a lot of the stuff we were coming up with was pretty simple but it worked for us. We went from playing weddings to actually getting gigs that paid money. I mean it was barely enough to cover gas to get there but it was something. I guess, for the sake of transparency, there is one more thing I have to talk about while we’re talking about this time in the band’s life.

Steve and I spent a lot of time writing music together. It was great, being able to get close. I thought we were becoming friends. He was still a bit hung up, though and one night, when we were up late writing at his tiny apartment, he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

The next day, I told him that that couldn’t happen again. I gave him my reasons and he respected that but still, I could tell he was crushed. I think that between the kiss and us having this talk, he had begun to hope that something would happen between us.

I think that’s what made me and Jonathan hurt him so much more.

1982

You didn’t necessarily like Murray when you first began to work with him but you did trust him. In the professional capacity at least. He never tried anything with you, which you appreciated although that bar was abysmally low.

You hadn’t known what to expect on your first day in the studio but you had a feeling that as far as the music was considered, you were in decent hands.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

The moment you had stepped into the studio, Murray had handed you a stack of music, all unfamiliar and definitely nothing you had written.

“What’s this?” You had asked, eyes crinkling in confusion.

“A few contenders for an EP. The team over at marketing came up with some branding concepts and this is what we landed on.”

He then pulled out a thick folder overflowing with pictures of what you assumed the studio had wanted to mold you into. It was all bubblegum and teased hair and not at all what you had envisioned.

“Wait, Murray, I don’t understand. I have a brand, one that I've spent a lot of time curating along. This isn't me and this is definitely not my music. You said I could sing the music that I’ve written.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Murray hummed, condescendingly, “I never said that.”

“Well, if I can’t sing my music then I just won’t sing at all.” You were the full image of a petulant child, arms crossed and lips dangerously close to a pout.

Murray feigned concern for a moment before hunching down so that he was at eye level with you.

“You signed a contract,” he spoke slowly, “Starcourt owns you, and if you don’t like it, then talk to a judge.”

He turned away from you, leaning against the mixing console. He speaks again after what seems like an eternity.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not saying it’s ethical or right, but if you want to make it in music, you got to play the game. You can’t come in here, swinging your metaphorical dick around, calling the shots when you haven’t proven you can rake in the dough.

“Sure, you’ve got talent, but who doesn’t? Right now, there’s a line of girls around the block who can sing and write and are probably better at following directions, waiting to take your spot.

"Plus, I read the songs you sent over, you have some good lines but there's not a single song worth attaching Starcourt's name to. Take this as an opportunity to learn, to be better, to actually work for something for the first time in your life. You have nothing right now, so nothing is below you, not even this pop dribble they're giving you to sing.

"I’m not saying it’s always gonna be this way, but you have to prove to them that you can play before they take you seriously, and then if you got what it takes, you can start writing your own music. Hell, if you make them enough money, they’ll let you play the fucking didgeridoo and go out in a nun’s habit… well, maybe not the habit, but the point stands. So, can we stop acting like the spoiled princess we are for just one afternoon and get to rehearsing?”

You snatched the book of songs from his outstretched hand and with a smile on your face, tore it down the middle before stomping off.

It had taken five days of Murray, along with various other executives at Starcourt, pounding on your door at the Chateau Mormont—the hotel that was your permanent residence since you had turned 18— before you had even considered setting foot in Starcourt again.

All it took was a gift basket full of Champagne and half a dozen threatening letters from their legal team.

***

NANCY: Jonathan came on as our second guitarist. I remember when he came to the audition he was this quiet, super shy kid who barely managed to make eye contact, but once he had a guitar in his hands, he had this way of coming alive. He wasn’t a showman like Steve, but he was electric when he played.

We—I never meant for things to turn out the way they did but with Jonathan, it wasn’t much of a choice. I know this sounds so cliche, but we were drawn to each other. I remember, during rehearsals, even before we really knew each other, he and I would lock eyes from across the room and I would know exactly what he was thinking.

Soon, we were sneaking around together. We were getting more and more serious, it was only a matter of time, honestly, before the others found out. Jonathan wanted to come clean early on, he could tell it was causing me so much stress, but I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Part of it, was Steve, of course, but also, what Jonathan and I had felt precious and personal and ours. I wanted to stay in this bubble we had built for ourselves.

Of course, it was Steve and Robin who eventually caught us, making out in Jonathan’s car after rehearsals one day.

To say that Steve took it hard is probably an understatement. He skipped rehearsal for five straight days and when he showed up he had this new song he had written, this ballad called, “Regret You”.

“If I never had you, then why can’t I forget you / I hate myself because I could never regret you.”

Yeah, that was an awkward one to rehearse but, to his credit, it was a great song. It was the song that got us noticed.

1982

You had spent months recording your first EP, a five-song collection the studio had decided to name “The Setlist”. It was meant to be a play on your groupie status, or at least that’s what some intern over in the marketing department had claimed, a little too proud of himself for your liking.

While you couldn't ignore the sense of accomplishment that bubbled below the surface, you mostly felt empty.

The whole thing made you think of your father, whom you hadn't spoken to in years but had a very staunch view on artistic integrity. He despised artists who 'carelessly churned out poor imitations of real art for money'. "To make art is as close as one can get to being god," he had explained to you once, with self-important tears in his eyes, "why would anyone sell that off? Art should mean something to the artist. Otherwise, they are a peddler of fake divinity."

Your father had never had to worry about money a day in his life.

That empty feeling was only exacerbated when, the Friday after you had officially finished recording, Murray had invited you to lunch with a particular proposition in mind.

“No, Murray, not gonna happen. Over my dead body and all that,” you spat from across the table.

“Listen, I don’t want to pull the contract card on you, but I will,” he warned with no real heat as he swirled his gin martini in one hand.

“Nice try,” you mirrored his pose, martini and all, “but the contract doesn't cover this, only original work. Not duets. You know that, I know that, so why don’t you try again and give me one good reason why I would even consider a duet with The Letterman’s.”

Murray gave you a look you had come to familiarize yourself with—one that was equal measures of pride and annoyance. It was the look he gave you whenever you bested him.

“How about the fact that they’re one of the hottest acts right now and being on a track with them would guarantee you a spot on the charts which is a great place to be at any point in time, but especially when you’re about to release an EP?”

Your face dropped in the way it only did when you knew Murray was right about something you didn’t want him to be right about. A look he had been starting to familiarize himself with.

"Fine, I’ll do it, but I want to spend as little time as possible with Jason. He’s a pompous ass.” “No disagreements there, sweetheart.”

The day you were scheduled to record with Jason and the rest of his band, he was an hour late. You hadn’t doubted for a moment he had done this on purpose.

When he finally had shown, he pretended not to know you, a game you had quickly caught on to, and made sure to respond with, “It’s so nice to meet you, Jackson” after he made a show of introducing himself to you which made the rest of his band and Murray guffaw.

Jason narrowed his eyes at you, his voice struggling to stay level, and said, “Watch it. We’re the ones doing you a favor here, remember?”

“I did you one first,” you responded, your eyes meeting his gaze, “remember?”

It had taken 20 minutes for his bandmates to calm him down, but eventually, the two of you got into the booth.

Your only priority had been to do your best job in as few takes as possible because you did not know how much longer you could tolerate being in Jason’s presence.

In the end, after a two-hour session, Murray had sent you both home, either happy with the finished product or at his wit’s end with the tension. Either way, three weeks later you had a duet with The Letterman’s called “It Was You” and just as Murray had predicted, it was quick to climb the charts.

You were getting noticed.

***

NANCY: Not long after Steve wrote “Regret You” we got noticed by a scout from Starcourt Records. I think at first we thought it was some sort of scheme, but it was legit. They had us record a few demos and in something like six months, they moved us to a house in Culver City.

The whole thing had felt like some sort of fever dream. I had to quit school and tell my parents. They didn’t even know I was in a band. Or seeing anybody. Needless to say, they didn’t take any of it well. When we got to LA, we did more test recordings and they even had us playing some shows at a few clubs on the strip.

Like I said: total fever dream.

But, when you’re under the thumb of a label like that, there are certain stipulations. One of the first things they told us was that they wanted to make our sound more modern and pop. We kinda

had an alternative, experimental sound back then. They said synth was going to be the new thing so they wanted Robin to learn how to play the synthesizer which meant that on certain songs, Jonathan would have to take over for bass. Also, they wanted Steve to be more of a frontman and less of a guitar player. Steve could always work a crowd, and they wanted to use that, especially with this new sound they had envisioned for us. All of this meant we needed another guitar player and, believe it or not, the label already knew who that was going to be. Eddie Munson.

***

EDDIE: Okay, here we go.

I’m Eddie Munson, lead guitar for The Downsides.

I grew up trailer trash in some town that no one’s ever heard of. My mom died when I was eight and my dad was in and out of jail pretty much my entire life--well, until those royalty checks started rolling in, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

People always use the dead mom/jailbird dad thing to either turn me into a sob story or villainize me, so I generally tend to avoid talking about it but since it's you, I'll say this: the thing I remember most about my mother is her absence and there is not a single redeeming thing about ole' Munson Sr. but I don't think they're responsible for any of the ways I've fucked up over the years. Nah, kid, that was all me.

Let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?

At the tender age of ten, I was gifted an old beat-up guitar by my uncle. Clearly, something he had picked up at the local Goodwill to try and keep me occupied and out of trouble. The neighbors hated us after. They hated us, even more, when it turned out that I could actually play.

When I was 18, Uncle Wayne got the idea that I was ready to commit to a life of indentured servitude over at the factory and that did not sit well with me, at all. I wanted to be a musician. But, instead of talking to him about it, you know, like a rational person? I just ran.

I sold my van and got a one-way ticket to LA. The metal scene was starting to pop up on the strip and music—metal—was the only thing I was good at, so I thought, ‘what the hell!’ and booked it. I slummed it for a few months and then, through some stroke of luck, I heard about a band that was auditioning for a new guitar player since their last one got hitched and quit. The Metal Gods smiled down on me the day of the audition because that same afternoon they called me back and told me they wanted me on as lead guitar.

1982

“It Was You”, your duet with The Letterman’s peaked at number 6 on Billboard’s Top 100 in October of 1982.

Suddenly, everyone wanted you to be featured in their songs. Your EP did well enough, but it didn’t even crack the top 30. That didn’t keep you from being the hot new thing on the scene and a

huge part of that was your reputation.

Of course, people knew who you were because of your groupie days, and you unintentionally built a reputation for being romantically involved with different musicians. So, when you broke out on the scene with a romantic duet, people started talking, and the tabloids began to spin stories about you and Jason being romantically linked which only caused a buzz for the song. You, of course, hated this and vehemently denied being involved with Jason to anyone who would listen. Jason, meanwhile, played it coy with the press, only fueling the rumors and your rage.

“Listen, I hate the guy as much as you do, sweetheart, but you got to respect the strategy,” Murray had said after hearing you gripe about one particularly salacious headline.

Before the year was through, you had been featured in five other duets. All with male artists. All resulting in more and more outlandish dating rumors. And all enjoying a lengthy stay on the top of the charts.

Starcourt had begun to push you to take it a step further and Brenner had asked for Murray to arrange outings between you and whatever male artist you were collaborating with. The meetings—you refused to call them dates—were always somewhere that was strategically public, somewhere where there was always at least one paparazzi with their cameras locked and ready. The pictures they would take would always make it to at least one gossip magazine, which resulted in even more publicity for the song.

Your partners—you refused to call them dates—were, at their best, cordial and business-like, one or two of them even asked for your permission before holding your hand. At their worst, though, they were handsy, entitled, and rude. None of them ever tried to ask you out on a real date and you weren't sure what that said about you.

Soon you were racking up duets and notoriety in equal measures. Radio DJs would make jokes about you every time they would play one of your songs—and they played your songs a lot. Once, while you were walking around Rodeo, a woman stopped you in the middle of the street and told you, very brazenly, that you needed to stop sleeping around so much. Before you could even tell her off, though, she proceeded to gush about how much she loved your duet with The Letterman's.

It seemed like everyone seemed to see you in a similar light though: they thought you were some sort of despicable maneater but all they wanted was more of a reason to talk about how you were a despicable maneater.

Murray had his work cut out for him, “We just need to find a way for you to have this same buzz all the time.”

***

EDDIE: Things started to pick up with Corroded Coffin. We were playing shows pretty much every night. As I said, metal was on the rise and we were at the forefront. Eventually, record label bigwigs had no choice but to acknowledge that.

Some of them got smart and started poaching bands early on, like Starcourt. Corroded Coffin signed with them in ‘82. We thought we were hot shit after that.

There’s a certain lifestyle that goes along with that, though, you know? A reputation that you have to uphold.

I'm not trying to make excuses for myself here, trust me. I'm just...trying to explain myself.

People always love to talk shit. They'll call you all sorts of names before they see you as an actual person. Trust me, I would know. But, these interviews are an opportunity to set the record straight, to finally be seen as an actual person.

So, there I was, a nineteen-year-old kid from Bumfuck nowhere, finally making it big, finally feeling like I belonged somewhere--like for the first time I wasn't a freak whose mom died or some trailer trash high school dropout--of course, I was gonna get swept up in it all. Of course, I was going to start picking up the bad habits and doing drugs. There was no one there to tell me otherwise.

It started out as something to get us through the madness that was our schedule: between the live shows and the studio time, we needed uppers just to keep us on our feet. Then, obviously, you needed the downers so you could fucking relax because the uppers made you so tense.

I stopped enjoying the drugs pretty early on, but at that point quitting wasn't something that I was willing to put that much effort into.

1983

The first time someone asked for your autograph, you were at a show at Whiskey a Go Go. Murray, acting as a sort of manager, had set up a photo opp with Charles Riva, your latest duet partner. He hadn’t shown that night but you never walked away from a live show.

Two girls, not much younger than you, appeared behind you as you were ordering at the bar and tapped you on the shoulder.

“See, I told you it was her,” the shorter one, a strawberry blonde with severe bangs whispered excitedly to her friend, a taller brunette.

Before you could ask either of them exactly what they wanted, the strawberry blonde spoke again, “Can we have your autograph?”

You could only nod dumbly as they handed you a cocktail napkin and a pen. You tried to think of something meaningful to write, but in your shock, could only come up with “Best wishes, xoxo”. You didn’t even ask them their names. The best you could do was offer to buy them a drink, which they happily accepted.

You regretted the offer as soon as you registered how young they looked underneath all that makeup, an observation that made you unsettlingly sad. You were reminded of your first days on the Strip: lonely and young and wanting someone to notice you for the right reasons.

Your thoughts became too heavy to deal with at that particular moment and you abruptly excused yourself, leaving the two confused girls behind. A shame, you thought to yourself, in another life you might’ve all been friends, but no one really wants to be your friend these days. They just want to tell people they’re your friends. Walking away saves everyone the disappointment.

You needed a drink.

By the time the main act had taken the stage, your vision had started to haze at the edges as a result of the multiple drinks you had procured for yourself. You watched, half-interested as a band you’d never heard of, Corroded Coffin took the stage, your eyes tracing after each member, eyeing the things only a fellow musician would: the models of equipment they had, the way the band queued each other up.

You didn't know enough about metal yet to know whether you'd consider yourself a fan or not but even with the little familiarity you have, you can tell this band is good. Their playing is unpolished but overflowing with energy and the crowd is feeding into it, screaming the lyrics along with the lead singer.

All of it reminds you of your first show at the Strip—what seemed ages ago—and that memory summons a whole other thought entirely: the reason that you had gotten into music was to actually make music you liked, not to be a topic of discussion in a gossip magazine, getting no say in the music you created.

You don't even remember the last time you had even written a lyric.

You think to yourself that maybe you should wander backstage after the show, like you once did and talk to the band. Maybe you could pick their brains about songwriting. They clearly didn’t care about mass appeal if they were making metal music which means they were probably doing it for the art.

At the very least they probably had a decent stash of pills.

Either way, it would be worth it.

***

EDDIE: It was pretty much love, at first sight, the moment I saw her in the crowd that night at Whiskey a Go Go. I remember seeing her for the first time halfway through our set and it was like I went blind for a moment. I had completely forgotten what I was doing, I think I even missed a cue. After the show, I made a beeline for the bar where she was standing, trying to act as cool as I could but I was shitting it.

***

Once that band had wrapped up, you made your way to the dressing rooms. You maneuvered to the dressing rooms like you had dozens of times before, but the band wasn’t there.

You milled about for a bit, before growing bored and leaving wondering if maybe they had seen you coming and left.

***

EDDIE: I ordered a drink just as an excuse to get closer and it worked. She was even more beautiful up close and so, so kind. Told me she loved our show and even pointed out specific guitar solos of mine that she liked. She always had a way of making you feel special like that. Chrissy Fucking Cunningham. Even her name was perfect, not a syllable too few or too many.

I asked her for her number that night and we went on a date two days later, I could hardly keep it.

together having to wait two days to see her again. Then, after a few weeks, we were going steady, as the kids say. It was perfect. I never really had anyone to myself, you know? She was the first person that ever made me feel seen and cared about.

I remember one time; she was hanging out at my place while the band was in the studio. When I came back, she had done all my laundry. When I asked her why she had done that, she just said “I dunno, just because” then, all of a sudden there were tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like that for me “just because".

My life had never been better--so of course, I fucked it up.

***

While you did not manage to meet Corroded Coffin, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, even days later. It was like seeing them play had awoken you from a daze you didn’t even know you had been in.

You spend a few days getting incredibly drunk by the pool after that. But no matter how much you drank or how many pretty dresses you bought yourself or how many pill you took, you could not shake the feeling.

A few mornings later, you had called Murray, “This stops now, Murray. No more duets or features or whatever else. I want to meet with Brenner. I want to do this my way.”

Murray, not used to being awake so early, gave a weak attempt at talking you down.

“No,” you urged on, “you said once I started making money, I could have a say. Well, now I’m making money and I’m tired of Starcourt just using me for that. So, I want something permanent and I want to write my own music, got it?”

“You have a contract,” Murray parroted back, half-heartedly.

“Yes, I do, and I plan to honor that contract but so help me God I will make life a living hell for you and for Brenner and any other exec that tries to get me to do another duet with Jason fucking Carver. In fact, I will find a way to lose Starcourt money if you don’t get me out of this. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Great, I’ll see you at lunch Murray.”

He signed, “See you then.”

***

EDDIE: My drug use was getting more out of hand. Chrissy hated it, but I couldn't bring myself to quit. Especially the things that I thought I needed to make it through the day.

Chrissy was a saint throughout the whole thing, until one night when she caught me in the dressing room of Whiskey with a girl who was not her. She walked away and I don’t really blame her. Out of all the regrets of my life—and trust me, kid—that was one of the biggest.

She moved out that day and refused to take my calls, moved in with one of her friends and I spent days just calling her, sending her flowers, the works.

She told me she wouldn’t budge unless I got clean. So, I checked myself into rehab. She was a good enough reason to quit. 45 days later, I checked out, clean as a motherfucking whistle.

Chrissy was gone though, I had no clue where she had disappeared to, but wherever she went, she didn’t want me to find her.

On top of that, my band was fucking pissed. I left the band for 45 days without telling anyone, right as we were finishing recording our debut album. Yeah, they weren’t happy. I was in something called “breach of contract” with the suits over at record label and they wanted to take me to court, and not the Star kind.

I definitely didn’t have lawsuit type of money back then, so it was in my best interest to work something out with Starcourt and jump back on fulfilling my contract. Problem was, Corroded Coffin didn’t want me back anymore, even though the guy they replaced me with wasn’t half as good as I was.

I thought that because my old band didn’t want me, that meant that I would be free of my contract. I was wrong. What actually happened was that my fate was then put into Starcourt’s hands and they could place me in whatever podunk production or band they wanted. They owned my ass.

And that’s how I ended up with The Downsides.

PLAY NEXT TRACK

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Eddie Munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #steve harrington #rockstar!eddie Munson #past!eddie x chrissy #nancy wheeler x jonathan byers

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hanniluvi · 10 months

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SPOH. you have made me very sad because of loving you from a distance. Cause why was it so beautifully written??? The way I felt bad for Heeseung the entire time 😭

KEI. i am sorry 😢💔 . but thank you!!! i tried my best 😭 SHSKS and yes poor heeseung </3 i felt bad for him as i kept writing ...

#🍰 — sophs asks !#sophs moots <3 #kei <3 #🎸 — loving you from a distance

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

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If I let you love me

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! reader

✧.* requested by @thefemininemystiquee

✧.* summary — Dealing with feelings is never easy, even more so when it comes to love. And when Eddie finds himself head over heels in love with his best friend, he doesn't know how to handle it.

✧.* warnings — A little angst i must admit, but I promise in the end it all ends up alright.

✧.* word count — 2.3k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I changed a few things in your ask to fit the idea I had, I hope you like it still... I wrote this one listening to this song, so if you want to read it while listening to it, I think it will be a cool experience. Hope you like it 🫶🏾

You knew Graham, Warren, Billy and Chuck by sight, you weren't that close to them growing up in Pittsburgh, despite it being a small town and most of you know each other you had never talked beyond a "good morning" here and there. But Eddie Roundtree was your best friend for as long as you could remember, you grew up together and did everything together, your friendship was always something your parents supported and even admired a lot.

So when he stopped talking to you it was a surprise to everyone, no one understood the reason for Roundtree's distancing and it broke your heart, you tried talking to him but everywhere you used to hang out he stopped going, and on your last attempt to talk to him at his house he made it pretty clear he wanted you far away.

You grew up with the anguish of not knowing what you had done to make him do this, you didn't know where it all went wrong, what made him so spiteful towards you. A while later you and Warren got closer, at school you talked from time to time and became really good friends, so because of him you knew what was going on with the band where your ex best friend played guitar.

Don't think Warren is some kind of gossip, quite the opposite, he just really liked talking about the band and how they were always improving. So when Chuck decided to leave the band to become a dentist you heard from Rojas, he shared with you the frustration it was to see Chuck give up like that.

"I can't understand Y/N" The drummer says, puffing on his cigarette, offering it to you afterwards. "Everything was going so well, Billy is sure that soon we will explode, and I trust him"

"And how are you going to play without a bassist?" You ask curiously, wondering if it would be a good idea to offer your services.

"Billy told Eddie to go to bass, but he hated the idea." Warren chuckles, remembering the blonde's face, you try to contain your expression of concern about Eddie. "Well, according to Billy it's temporary."

"You know, I can play bass…" You speak, getting the drummer's attention. "I'm a little rusty but if you have patience to teach me the songs…I can help you guys"

"For real?" Warren says with an excited smile on his face. "This would help a lot Y/N, really."

"Talk to them and tell me what they think of the idea, you have my number." You get up, saying goodbye.

Graham loved the idea, Warren was already thrilled with the thought of having you around and even Billy agreed that it would be a great way to not change what they had prepared for the presentation. For Eddie it seemed like the end of the world, he even agreed to play bass in Chuck's place so you wouldn't have to join the band, but as he was outvoted, soon you were with them rehearsing for the next presentation.

So after that performance you had become the official bassist of the Dunne brothers -name which you insisted they change but Billy never agreed- you thought that with time Eddie would know how to deal with your presence like a mature person, but everything became even worse.

Since you had moved to LA, living with him had become more and more difficult, he always made sure to make it clear that your presence didn't make him feel good.

"Could you sit somewhere else?" Roundtree says irritably, when you join him at the table.

"If my presence bothers you so much, why don't you go?" You say rolling your eyes, deep down hoping he wouldn't get up.

"You're a pain in the ass!" He gets up, heading to the room where he could eat "in peace".

You sigh as soon as he is no longer close, it was very frustrating to have to deal with this daily, even more with so many good memories of you together still alive in you. Upon noticing that you were clearly more discouraged, Camila approaches, sitting next to you at the table.

"What happened, my love?" She asks, reaching for one of your hands across the table trying to comfort you.

"I don't know what I did to make him hate me so much." You were distressed, and she seemed to notice it without you having to say it. "I thought that with time he would get used to me here, or that I wouldn't care anymore... But that's not exactly what's been happening."

"Eddie is a very closed person, well... He became like that over time" The photographer gets up going to get you a glass of water. "He never talked to me about any of this, but if it's something that bothers you I can talk to him, dove"

"I believe nothing will change his mind Cami, but thank you." You drink the glass she offers you, smiling when you finish. "I think the only way is to treat him the same way."

And that's what you started to do, if he came to take your peace in any way, you paid in the same coin. And even sometimes you started the discussion, but over time everything he did left you pissed, or maybe his absence as someone important was what frustrated you.

Eddie always had a hard time understanding love, and accepting it too. You were always a person who lit up the blonde's eyes, that person that if he was close he would know that everything would be fine, he felt good and safe with you. But as he grew up and understood what he felt for you, fear inhabited all these feelings, knowing that at any moment he could ruin all of this, or even be disappointed if you just decided to leave him.

He knew you didn't have something, but your connection was so strong, the feelings so intense that it scared him. Being close to you was the biggest temptation he had, because he always wanted you closer to him, the fear of rejection caused Roundtree to pull away and create this defense mechanism against you.

That night where you went looking for him at his house, he didn't know what to do. He watched you standing in the doorway moving your fingers indicating your nervousness, he didn't want to answer it, he didn't want to risk looking into your eyes and feeling it all over again, but before he even noticed you were looking at his bedroom window smiling, that smile he loved so much.

You waved at him, indicating you wanted to come in and talk, he could read your lips say "I'm sorry" and his heart sank when he saw you blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault. But he didn't have the strength to see you, he couldn't handle you, you were too much and he didn't deserve this, so he closed his curtain, leaving you with no answer and a broken heart.

When Warren came up with the idea of you joining the band, he didn't know how to react. A part of him found the proximity between the two strange and that bothered him, but what spoke louder was the fear of having you that close again. So whenever he could, he stayed away from you, and when he couldn't, he did everything to keep you away.

But when you started treating him that way, he started to feel the impact of it all, and little by little it dawned on him. He had lost you.

Camila and Billy had a party to celebrate their new house, and you all had attended. It had been a few hours since you had returned to the house in Laurel Canyon, and though he tried to sleep Eddie couldn't quiet his thoughts.

He went to a more airy place, sitting in a chair watching the starlit sky. His feelings washed over him like a strong wave, he tried to return to the surface to focus on the fact that even with you there he could manage to forget everything you had lived through. But he floated through the memories he had with you, back to the place before he let you down and just for a moment nothing went wrong. He knew he couldn't forget you, he was sure he wasn't able to avoid the love he felt just by hearing your voice.

He knew it was out of his hands, and he started to panic. He knew that if he had let you love him, things could have been different. He tried to occupy his mind with anything, because if he stopped for a few minutes his mind would only think of you, he was in love with you and bitterly regretted leaving.

He cried as he felt his chest tighten.

You had woken up very thirsty, you probably had overindulged in drinking and even if you were sleepy you wouldn't be able to sleep if you didn't drink water now. Walking into the kitchen you hear a sob, you turn around scared as it was around three in the morning and you didn't expect to see anyone awake at that time.

You go towards the noise, taking one of the vases in the room as protection, you approach the balcony little by little, encountering Eddie sitting in a chair with his back to you, you sigh in relief turning around ready to go back to the kitchen when you hear a sound of crying coming from the blonde and even though your mind told you to ignore it and preserve yourself from receiving a bad answer, you couldn't just let him there alone crying. You couldn't.

You approach him, making noise so that he notices your presence there. When he noticed you there, he quickly wiped his tears, settling himself in the chair he was sitting in.

"I didn't know you were awake…" He says in a weak voice. "I'm sorry if I woke you up or"

"You didn't." You interrupt him, sitting down next to him. "I know I'm not the person you'd like to see right now, but do you want to talk?"

"I'm fine Y/N, no need to worry" he says reluctantly, trying to avoid looking at you.

"No you're not." You affirm, he looks at you with arched eyebrows. "Your nose twitches when you lie."

He smiles, he knew very well that you knew him better than anyone in that house.

"It's hard to move on... I can't do this with you so close to me!" He says, taking his gaze to the sky again.

"Move on from what?" You ask, curious at what he was revealing.

"From you." He says, as if it were obvious. Making your stomach feel butterflies. "No matter what I try to do, you'll always be a part of me. No matter how much I try."

"I don't understand." You say with a chuckle. "You wanted this, you wanted me away. Damn Eddie, you pushed me away."

"I know what I did." He says feeling a few more tears run down his cheek. "If I let you love me things could have been different, you have no idea what I would do to go back to the start."

You were shocked by those words, you never imagined that he missed you, that you impacted him in that way.

"Then why? Why did you push me away?" Seeing him cry was making you emotional too, all that frustration of losing your best friend without knowing why, coming back in a few words spoken.

"It may sound crazy but I was afraid of what this feeling could cause me if you left." He sighs, feeling dumb now that he's said it all out loud. "Saying it now I really sound crazy, I know it might not make any sense but I've never felt better than when I'm with you."

You watch him closely, waiting for him to continue.

"I didn't know how to handle it so I cut everything that tied me to you." He finally confesses, clarifying things so hidden for you.

"Do you know what is funny? I can always tell when you lie" You let out with a chuckle. "And every time you treated me badly, or said you hated me, I knew it was a lie. Because I know you like nobody else."

Eddie didn't know what to say, he only looks back at you when he feels your hand in his.

"You were such a jerk to me, and don't think I'm going to forget that anytime soon." You say, then look deep into his eyes. "But fuck Eddie! I can't ignore how I feel about you, I can't ignore this adrenaline rush I feel just being around you. And if you tell me that I'm not crazy, that you feel it too… I believe we can make it work."

"Do you think we can start over?" He smiles, almost disbelieving what was happening.

"Starting over? Don't give me that bullshit! You'll prove to me that I can trust you again." You say, eliciting a hearty laugh from him. "Just don't leave me in the dark again."

"Can I hug you?" He asks fearfully.

You get up opening your arms to receive him, he gets up and when you hug him it was as if those things that were so uncertain, so wrong, fell into place and everything was finally back to the right way, or at least heading towards it.

Warren Rojas: I didn't understand anything when I woke up the other day and the two were laughing and talking without killing each other. I remember thinking, "Fuck, I don't know what I used yesterday but it must have been strong" *laughing*

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#daisy jones and the six #eddie roundtree #eddie x y/n #eddie loving #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie x reader #daisy jones and the six fanfic #djats #the six #the dunne brothers #djats x reader

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sitp-recs · 8 months

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Hidden Gems: Special Edition

5 7 underrated works by @skeptiquewrites

It’s been ages since I did a Hidden Gems post so I’m probably a bit rusty but I thought this was the perfect way to celebrate our dear Tee. I’ve loved her work ever since the first fic I came across, and I am over the moon that she was the first fandom friend I was lucky to meet in person earlier this month! We immediately hit it off and had the BEST time around - dinner at a cute Vietnamese place, a walk along the canal, ice cream treats while talking fandom & life. A perfect date night that could have been pulled out from one of her fabulous summery fics if you ask me 😌

It was even harder to choose how to celebrate her birthday having met such a lovely person - after many single recs and lists I was like “what else is there???” But after some thinking with the help of my partner in crime @sweet-s0rr0w I came up with the idea of boosting some of my favourite hidden gems by Tee, fics that I don’t see recced often but deserve all the attention and buzz. They will tug at your heartstrings and make you fall even more in love - not only with Drarry but with summer aesthetics, its endless possibilities, and with Tee’s quiet, charming, elegant, wistful and seductive writing.

These are all shorts but each perfectly placed word and well executed plot contain new and unique universes. Each clever line and lush dose of mutual want - either followed by delicious smut or equally sexy doses of quiet intimacy - fill me with different but wonderful emotions. I think the banner pic translates very well one of the best feelings I experience reading her fics: how special it is to celebrate the little things, how powerful yet vulnerable we are when facing the inevitability of falling in love, how one magical second spent on summer nights, as fleeting and removed from our traditional sense of time and space as they might be, can last forever. I hope the fics and quotes I selected below give you a tiny taste of the magic contained in each one of her short, brilliant love stories. Happiest of birthdays, my dear friend! ♥️

⌛️ light that covers us (T, 117 words)

Lovers in dangerous line of work.

"Always on borrowed time," a singer croons in the background. Draco turns up the Wireless. “God, I hate that song."

🗓️ Four Seasons (M, 2k)

A romance in four seasons.

There was something lovely about being out of excuses, Harry thought. Everything was possible. "What are you in it for, then?" Harry asked as they crossed the threshold.

🌊 On The Shore (T, 3k)

Draco takes up wild swimming. Harry joins him.

Harry turns his face towards the sun and he doesn’t quite smile, but there is something content in his expression that makes Draco a little more willing to share this place.

🎸 Lights Down Low (T, 4k)

“Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before.” Recording the Hallows' fifth album with Draco brings up the past in a way Harry’s never expected.

The music’s a little wistful, haunting even with no words, recorded in the middle of the night. Harry has done this dozens of times before and for other people. There is no way he has forgotten how to write a song.

🎇 No Distance (E, 5k)

Harry doesn’t believe in resolutions, because a new year doesn’t mean feeling any different. But something feels possible, meeting Draco again in Zurich. The past is the past, but the future can be different. Sequel to Nothing Left to Burn.

“Poor thing,” Draco responds and presses his lips to the back of Harry’s hand. It's a little mocking, but Harry's heart hasn’t taken the memo.

Bonus 1: fresh out of Bodice Ripper!

🎤 The Real Thing (M, 5k)

Harry only means to cheer Draco up after a terrible breakup. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

“I don’t know that he cared what I wanted. I don’t know if he knew what I wanted.” Harry wanted to ask Draco what he wanted, the exact contours of what might please him and how.

Bonus 2: Femslash!

🧣She Was Pretty (E, 4k) - Lavender/Parvati

In the aftermath of the war, Lavender Brown rediscovers herself in a tiny flat above her Diagon Alley tea shop. Parvati helps.

Her mother offers her pity mostly, raw and cloying. But there is love there too. She clucks at her the second day Lavender is home after a month spent in hospital. “They didn’t braid your hair tight enough, Lavvy. Come here.”

#happy birthday Tee! 🎉🎉🎉#hidden gems #skeptiquewrites

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the-cat-at-the-theatre-door · 11 months

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do you have any headcanons or ideas when the current adult cats like Munkustrap, Macavity or Tugger reach their senior age? What becomes of them? How’s the tribe like etc.

Sorry if I worded this question weird it’s been on my mind for a while and I figured you might have some interesting ideas about it :)

That's actually a super interesting question! I stuck with the three prompted in the ask, but I'm happy to talk about others as well, if you'd like!

(Slight TWs for mention of illness and death)

🎸 - Tugger gains weight as he gets older, around the middle and face particularly - the slowing metabolism catches up to him, even with his picky eating habits. No shame in that; he's healthy, lives a good life and he's happy. He has a very prominent nasolabial fold on the right side of his face that no longer goes away when he stops smiling, because he would half smile and smirk so often that the muscles in his face got weaker on the left, leaving it permanently crooked (no less charming though), and the smile lines on one side are far deeper. Like is tradition, he lets his fur get even longer, but pays a little less attention to it, so it's often wild (he digs it - says it looks "very bad boy" which has his kids and niblings and grandkids groaning at him). Gives him a very regal "king of the jungle" type of look, and that combined with the lower tilt of his brow give off the impression that he's grown more serious, but he hasn't. One quick grin will attest to that. He's secretly *very* self conscious about his aging (let's be real, he was the type to have started dying his hair the minute anything even resembling grey showed up in there - grey only exists on his dad and Munk), particularly that the others may start to lose interest in him (and Tugger does love his attention), but does a good job at hiding it, and lbh if you know anything about any rockstar, it's that aging eliminates absolutely zero appeal to their fans - a sex symbol is a sex symbol.

His role in the clowder stays mostly the same. He never really moves up or into any real role of responsibility, though he does stay on as an advisor after Sillabub steps up. Most of his troublemaking is now quietly whispered and advised to the next generation, with "old innocent Uncle Tugger" watching gleefully from a distance. Gotta train them young, y'know? He also takes up the Grandpa Gus mantel in nicknaming everyone with very particular calling cards, or settling on the more neutral "babe" and "honey" - particularly for the younger kittens. He also came into his own as quite the storyteller, when you get him to sit still long enough (which isn't often but they'll take what they can get).

A fully senior Tugger started developing problems with wandering off and mobility, but his family keeps close tabs on him (even though it annoys him).

🌙 - Munkustrap has taken remarkably after Old Deuteronomy in that he aged very slowly, and then almost all at once. For the longest time, it seemed like he would never age; every year that passed he looked the same (having grey fur already does wonders for hiding the grey that pops forward). Maybe a little fuller in the figure, maybe with a few deeper lines around the eyes, but still the same old Munk he'd always been even a dozen years ago. He isn't at all concerned with appearances; he takes them as they come.

He's mellowed out over the years in stress levels (not good for the blood pressure, you know - he has several cats who pointedly remind him of that when he starts), though you know when something doesn't please him; that familial look of disapproval is very strong in him. But it doesn't stop him from following in Aunt Jenny and Uncle Skimble's footsteps in that "slowing down" are not words in his vocabulary. He's still as busy a body as ever, and remained in charge of the yearly plays at the Ball until he needed to be forcibly retired (at least in being the lead director - he still goes to every practice). Part of that comes from the rather severe arthritis he develops later down the line, which was part of the contribution to that "all at once" aging I mentioned earlier, but he remains cheerful and as active as is tolerable with it. He (regrettably if you ask his daughters and grandchildren) has become the "back in my day", kind of guy, which you can tell he's about to launch into when he manages a claw up and pointing. He absolutely adores his grandchildren and grandniblings, and takes over his father's spot as the first cat that often gets to meet very new kittens (and pass on their teachings), and while he doesn't have Old Deuteronomy's full knack for it (doesn't quite have the developed magic for it), it is still a time honoured tradition and you know Munkustrap adores babies (and they all adore Granddad).

Munk remains the leading song-storyteller in the clowder, and takes on a role as one of their mentors/teachers until his fading memory prevents him from doing so. He is very proud of his apprentices that take up after him, and takes up every opportunity to tell any cat how good they are and how he taught them everything they know. He ends up passing peacefully in his home at around 32 years of feline age after being sick a while - not bad for a cat; the Deuteronomys live rather long, you know.

💀 - Macavity...is Macavity. No, actually, you know what scratch that. Macavity becomes who he was meant to be the entire time: Professor Moriarty (but like book canon Moriarty - think like Victor Evgrafov). His shoulders droop forward and begin to protrude as he loses more weight, as though wings would sprout from the shoulder blades behind him, his jaw and whiskers begin to sag and his fur gets thinner (even moreso) and that "highly domed" head of his becomes literal as the "fur line" pushes back further. He is patchy and unkempt, but somehow retains his cool, unbothered posturing (kinda...unless he's angry, but that doesn't come with age). The cataracts he develops (and, with no desire to be anywhere in the vicinity of humans, retains) are white and clouded, and while this means the intensity of his gaze has softened a notch (literally and figuratively - his vision is permanently blurred), it is somehow even more frightening than before.

He no longer goes out to do any of his bidding (though he never really did to begin with - having a web has its perks in that you don't get the paws dirty) - they are brought to him. Not particularly difficult, as he has abandoned a *lot* of his threads - he grew bored of them; they no longer interested him. His voice has become softer, more difficult to hear, but it's bone chilling. He's often caught talking to cats who aren't there (or at least that no one else can see), and staring blankly at walls, and his paranoia has tripled. Possibly CDS; no one was close enough to him to really know.

Macavity disappears one day; no one really knows what happened to him, though you can take a few guesses.

#The Rum Tum Tugger #Munkustrap #Macavity #my headcanons #jellicles ask because jellicles dare #realreulbberband #macavity does not reenter jellicle society - honestly if he reaches older age i'd be surprised #thank you for the ask it was really cool!#this is something i never fully considered but also you know what? i love talking about older munk and tugger

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yellowwithalisp · 6 months

Note

lm begging anything for ben reilly (romantically)

Hcs

Blurbs

Drabblez

ANYTHING bc there is nothing for my boy and it is painful 😭😭

🎸nonnie

( Here you go! I hope you like it!! - Yellow 💛🌻 )

I woke to the sound of rain pitter-pattering against our bedroom window. The sound is so soothing, that I decide to stay in bed and enjoy it. The curtains were open a small bit, and I was greeted by the gorgeous sight of a rain-soaked landscape beneath a grey sky. The trees in the distance are completely drenched. This is a beautiful rainy morning.

I roll over and find myself face-to-face with Ben. Despite the early hours, he's still sleeping soundly. The rain pitter-patters against the window as he snores softly. Despite the rain, it's warm and cozy in the bed. Ben had been busy with “spider stuff” which was an understatement, to say the least. He had been out fighting crime all night, getting drenched by the rain and barely surviving to come home to me. I gently run my fingers through his hair and kiss him softly on the forehead. I felt Ben flinch slightly as he felt my hand run through his wet hair and my lips on his forehead, but he enjoyed every second of it. He snuggled up closer to me and mumbled in his sleep, “I love you” as the sound of the rain hitting the window and your fingers running through his hair filled the room.

I chuckled softly as he snuggled in closer. The rain is hitting the window with a soothing sound, and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace adds to the perfect setting. As the water flows down the window, the reflections dance and sparkle in the dim light. As I lie there, watching the rain, I can't help but admire the beauty of my husband, even when he’s resting like this. The warmth of the room, and the peace of the moment As I listen to Ben breathing gently.

Ben eventually woke up, opening his eyes and seeing me lying next to him. He smiled, feeling sleepy and warm and content, having me so close to him. He yawned softly and reached out for me, pulling me close to him and muttering, “Good morning, love.”

Ben still felt very sleepy and tired. He buried his head in my shoulder, still half asleep but very happy to have me next to him.

“Morning.”

I said as my fingers played with his hair. Ben muttered softly as I played with his hair, “That feels nice.”

As the sound of the rain hitting the window and the crackling of the fire filled the room, Ben was extremely cozy and comfortable and he didn’t want to leave the bed at all.

“I’m still very tired, can we go back to sleep?” He mumbled, snuggling up closer to me as he closed his eyes and let out a huge yawn.

“Was yesterday a lot of spider stuff?”

I asked as held me close.

”Yes it was.” Ben replies and stretches, yawning loudly.

He takes your hand and pulls me in even closer, letting out a sigh as he closes his eyes and listens to the beautiful sound of the rain hitting the window and the fire crackling in the background.

“I’ve never enjoyed sleeping in as much as I have here, in your arms,” he says softly, opening his eyes briefly to look at me before closing them again and burying his head back in my shoulder to go back to sleep. I rolled my eyes gently as a smile appeared on my face.

“Do I get you for the day or do you need to go back?” I asked.

Ben was extremely content, and he didn’t feel like leaving the bed, as he had been extremely exhausted from fighting crime throughout the night.

He sighed and yawned again, as a smile formed on his face when he felt my fingers still playing with his hair.

“I don’t have to go back right now, but I might have to go later, depending on how many more crimes I need to deal with.”

Ben then turns his head to look at me properly, smiling as he closes his eyes again, “I hope you don’t mind.”

I shook my head gently. “I knew what I was getting into. It’s ok Ben.”

I mumbled as I gently kissed the top of his head.

Ben was happy to hear this, as he just wanted to spend the day with you and rest up before going back to fighting crime.

“If you don’t mind, I’d just like to lie here with you for the day.”

Ben said softly, smiling at me as his eyes fluttered open for just a moment before he closed them again.

“That’s if it’s okay with you.”

He added, still half asleep but wanting my approval before he tried to take more time off.

“Do you want me to go cook you breakfast in bed?”

I asked gently. “Yes please, that sounds wonderful!” Ben replies, smiling softly while being half asleep.

He was excited to be able to spend some time with me where all of his attention would be on myself and not crime. He’d been away for nearly the whole night and just wanted a little bonding time with me.

“Could you do French toast and bacon? That would be amazing.”

Ben yawned again,

“Sorry, I’m still tired.”

I shook my head and kissed him. “It’s ok, I don’t mind.” Both of us were listening to the sound of the rain and the fire crackling in the background for a moment.

I slowly pulled away from him before slipping my get into my sliders and putting my rob on. I make my way down the hallway toward the kitchen as the rain continues to pour. Once I step into the kitchen, I turn on the light and am warmed by the brightness. Then, I get to work making French toast for your husband. Whisk the eggs and milk together, then dip the bread in the mixture. As the bread cooks, the smell of butter and fresh French toast fills the air. I got the three slices of golden brown French toast onto a plate. I know Ben is going to be thrilled. This is exactly how I want to spend a rainy morning. With him at home Cuddling in bed is tougher.

I walked back to our bedroom. I can't help but smile as I see my husband still in bed. The rain continued to pour down outside, hitting a faint glass as I made my way over to the bedside table and placed the plate of French toast within reach. The smell of the food immediately fills the air, and Ben's eyes open slightly.

"Here, there's coffee coming soon," I said as I climbed back into bed.

Ben sniffed the air curiously as my eyes fluttered open just a bit. The familiar smell of French toast immediately perked me up, and Ben looked up and around.

“Is this for me?” Ben asked, still very tired from the night before and the warm bed holding all of his interest. I giggled.

"You need to share one but, yes."

I said with a smile.

Ben smiled up at me before looking down at the French toast I brought me for a moment. Ben let his gaze linger for a moment before his stomach growled loudly.

"I guess I am hungry," Ben mumbled as Ben reached for a piece of French toast. Ben took a bite and chewed softly before smiling back at me.

"This is amazing," Ben said softly before taking another bite and eating more of it. "I'm going to have to eat this whole plate."

Ben laughed softly as he ate the French toast.

"Hey! I need one!"

I teased with a smile and giggle.

“No. Mine!” Ben exclaims jokingly, pulling the plate to his chest. Ben begins eating, making happy sounds as he chews on the delicious French toast.

As Ben eats and sips coffee, you can't help but notice how cute he looks. His hair is all messy and curly, his face is scrubbed clean, and he doesn't have even the faintest sign of stubble on his chin.

As adorable as he looks, I also noticed the dark circles around his eyes. My heart breaks a little seeing my poor husband so tired.

"So... This... Spider group. Spider society? When do I get to meet people from it Ben?"

I asked as I shifted a bit to grace my cup of coffee.

“That's still quite a ways off, you'll have to wait a while longer. They like to evaluate people carefully before letting them in. So just stay at home and do your usual stuff.”

Ben said, his tone slightly colder than usual. I sighed as I rested my head against his shoulder.

“Oh, alright.” I frowned slightly. I couldn’t understand why they had to evaluate people so carefully, but I trusted Ben’s judgment.

I decided to stay quiet for now, sipping my coffee. The rain kept pouring outside, but I didn’t mind. It was very soothing to lie here with Ben, listening to the gentle rain and the sound of the fire crackling in the background. I could have easily fallen asleep again, but I was hungry. As Ben finished the last bite of his breakfast, he looked up at me, smiling.

The rain pounds against the windows, and the wind howls outside. The lightning flashes, lighting up the room. The thunder rolls, the sound filling the room. Ben snuggled into my side and I felt the warmth of his body against mine.

"So... Can I at least meet a few of the other spiders? Maybe bring some here so I can meet them?"

I asked as I glanced down at Ben. "Well, I can invite one of them here, sure." Ben yawned again as he snuggled deeper into me. He then turned his head to face me, smiling.

"I know just the spider, she'll love you," Ben said softly while still lying in my arms.

The sound of rain hitting the window and the fire crackling in the background made the morning feel very cozy and relaxing. Ben didn't want to move from where he was. He was perfectly content to lie down and spend the morning like this.

"Oh? And who would that spider be?" I asked as I stared down at him with a soft smile. I chuckled softly as I caressed his hair. "Her name is Cindy Moon." He said softly as I gently brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"We've been working together for a few years now... She's a nice person. You two will get along great." He said as he sighed contently.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"She sounds nice."

I said as my thumb gently brushed against his cheek.

I smiled softly and caressed his cheek. He was so sweet and gentle when he was tired like this. I found him to be adorable and couldn't help but be filled with admiration for this extraordinary person. I then sat up slightly and caressed his hair.

“Would you mind getting up for me? I need to go to the bath.” I said as I sighed and got out of bed.

Ben slowly sat up in bed and stretched.

“And you're not asking me to join you?” He asked with a soft smile and a yawn. I rolled my eyes. "Would you like to join me, Ben?"

“Sure.”

Ben says as he gets out of bed. He looks so sleepy as he stretches. “Are we going to be intimate in there?” Ben asks with a smirk.

I giggle and pat his cheek. “Well, we never know, but for now I’m going to relax,” I say with a light heart as he takes my hand and kisses the back of it.

#ben reilly x reader #ben reilly #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #the scarlet spider x reader #the scarlet spider #🎸nonnie

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go-go-devil · 7 months

Note

Top 5 autistic headcanons and top 5 aroace headcanons?

TRIPLE A LET'S GOOO!!!

Autism:

Dale Cooper (Twin Peaks): One of the most obviously autistic characters to ever grace television. The allistics just didn't get it probably because he was "too social" or whatever other slight deviation from what's stereotypical in autistic characters

Kris (Deltarune): I genuinely believe Kris is deliberately autistic-coded, mostly due to that "How to Care for a Human" book you find in the library in Chapter 2 but even beyond that all of their described behaviors are SUPER relatable to me as an autistic person (and bring me back to how I felt about it in my youth...)

Daniil Dankovsky & Various Other Characters (Pathologic): Thank you once again for showing me the light in how truly autistic Daniil is at his very core <3 Besides him though I'm also in agreement with the very code of Classic HD that Peter Stamatin and Grace are on the spectrum (tortured savant and death-obsessed weird girl rep respectively), but I would also argue that Yulia Lyuricheva is autistic as well. I mean the woman is described as someone who "sits in the corner and quietly observes others" and invented an entire philosophical theory in an attempt to explain the pattern of random events invisibly triggered by people. That's what we in the business call STEM-influenced autism :)

The Lodger (Knock-Knock): Yet another video game character that is so intensely autistic. Willingly living in isolation, simultaneously longing for and hating the presence of guests in your house, talking to yourself while pacing through the hallways & infodumping about the most niche scientific field imaginable? It's so relatable 🕯

Diane Nguyen (Bojack Horseman): This one maybe doesn't have the most "evidence" compared to the others per say, but I honestly found myself relating to a lot of Diane's personality quirks and struggles AS an autistic person (ex: hating surprises, trouble regulating her emotions/prone to emotional outbursts, having the most specific overly-convoluted Halloween costume ever). With her I think I'm more in the minority for this hc since her other mental illnesses overshadow her autistic traits, plus her's aren't nearly as obvious as Juda's (who as far as I'm concerned IS canonically autistic even if it's not outright stated by the characters)

Aroace:

Patches (Soulsborne Series): There is no fucking way this man has ANY desire for sex and romance. The only hole he's interested in are the enemy-infested ones he can kick you down! Plus I do know of that one famous line he says in Dark Souls 3 which he claims to be "devoid of all worldly wants" so this might as well be canon

Artemy Burakh (Pathologic): I don't care what the shippers think, I just love the idea of Artemy having a narrative revolving around the concept of "love" while being alienated and eventually coming to terms with how he himself doesn't experience this emotion in a socially conventional way. Besides just 'cause he's aroace in my mind doesn't mean he can't form QPR's ;)

Death of the Endless (The Sandman): ABSOLUTE AROACE ICON! She's a being who loves humanity, but keeps a reasonable distance between any individual person due to her role in taking their souls upon their death. Though instead of being all moping and "oh I can never allow myself to truly be close to those I love T_T" she's instead endlessly jovial and enjoys every second of spending time with other humans in a platonic fashion, brief as those seconds are in the grand scheme of her job. If that ain't actually positive aroace rep I don't know what is 🖤

Every Character in Hylics: All of them are aroace. They're functionally immortal clay aliens who probably don't even need to procreate in traditional means to produce new life, and besides they're more interested in prog rock than romance anyway 🌙 🎸🌯

Holden Caulfield (The Catcher in the Rye): A very personal hc for me. Reading that book was one of my earliest instances of me relating to a character for their lack of desire for sex and romance; in particular the whole story about Holden losing his best friend Jane due to her no longer valuing him as a friend and wanting a boyfriend instead, to which he couldn't find himself filling that role. It's just such a vivid portrayal of THE aroace experience of having your platonic connections become "lesser" in the eyes of society, and it really pisses me off that so many contribute this character trait of his as something "he refuses to grow out of" because no it fucking isn't! But then again most analyses of this book are godawful ableist pieces of shit so I'm not exactly surprised there's a lack of meaningful analysis on the main character being sexually deviant alongside his mental disorders

#asks #wow I had a lot to say for these lol #thanks again for the ask ✨

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warmaidensrevenge · 2 years

Text

Let's be rockstars

Eddie Munson x Plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Warning: 18+ sexual situations with details, angst, fluff, cursing mentions of drinking. Not proof read and no word count

Summary: the heart wants what the heart wants. But long distance has you doubt Eddie and his word.

Part 2

🎸❤️‍🩹🎵

The next 2 and a half months were amazing yet a bit melancholy. Though you and Eddie were hardly in the same town when traveling, countless calls, texts, memes and video chatting filled up all your free time. You would fall asleep with him every night on the phone or on video chat. Since the kiss, you and Eddie started learning even more about each other. You wanted to know everything about him. And he wanted the same. Everytime the phone rang or you got a notification you couldn't help but feel incredibly happy. Conversations of past experiences and talk of a possibile future together constantly came up. But with never actually coming up with a title for you two yet. Not that it mattered what you were called. You just wanted to be with him. It felt like with every word that was said between you two made you fall deeper in love with him. But the constant worries of Eddie, if he felt the same way or not ate at you. He liked you that was for certain. But what could be or not was at the forefront of you mind. You haven't been in many relationships throughout your life but the ones you did have did nothing to help you prepare for what was growing between you and him. The distance was becoming unbearable at least for you it was.

One week in Indiana was finally here. Eddie's home state. He was supposed to meet you in a few days. So you could meet his friends and his Uncle back home and you couldn't have been more nervous. You had one more show to do before you guys had a small break in-between gigs. And your original plan was to go home. But meeting Eddie changed your plans for the better.

You only saw Eddie 4 times after the kiss. Though nothing happened that night or any of the other nights. You were happy to be near him. He was so funny and eccentric. It made those nights some of the best you've had. Filled with laughter, kissing and cuddling. Sometimes a tear or two would shed when reliving past traumas.

Eddie learned your insecurities about your body. He would never admit it to you because he didn't want to seem clingy. But he wanted to be with you. Always. To protect you, to love you, to show you over and over again how beautiful you were. He already had pictured his life with you by his side. Performing together or having a wonderful life somewhere in the country. Suddenly with you, his band didn't seem all to important as it once was. He knew you wouldn't want him to leave the band for you. But he was honestly considering it. Maybe it was too soon to feel this way towards you but he couldn't handle being away from you for so long. She was sweet and courageous, and very stubborn. She could hold her own. She was beautifully shy. But not when it came to him. She loved her family, and she was extremely talented, but she didn't care about the fame that she could easily get if she would just want it. She wanted to help people. She was a natural nurturer. Perfect for a wife and mother. He never met anyone who came close to you. Sure he dated but his focus was on the music first. That's what causes him to be single now. That and the groupies that would somehow find their way to the hotels he would stay at wanting to sleep with him. Though it was tempting he never indulged in such frivolously acts. He never wanted anything so bad than to have the world hear his music. But then you came along. Doing both. Music and a life outside of it. He didn't think he could have both. But now that the universe finally allowed you two to meet. He wanted both. He wanted you. But he wasn't sure if you wanted a life with him. So he patiently wait for the day you would allow him to be yours.

...

Final show before the break. You prayed for it to hurry up and be over so you could see Eddie. So standing on the stage playing the set list you saw him side stage. You couldn't help from smiling. He came early. He gave you a wave. That's when you notice one of his hands in a brace. Your face fell and your brows furrowed out of worry. To the point where it distracted you for a second missing a note. Your brother shot you a look to see what was wrong. But you shook your head mouthing an 'Im sorry' and you continued to play. You couldn't look at Eddie again because he was a distraction. But as soon as you could you would make sure the first thing you did was to see if he was ok. After the song was over your brother address the audience. You went to Eddie for the few seconds you had.

"Don't worry it's nothing." Eddie tried to assure you.

"But you have a show tomorrow."

"shh we will talk about it later." He said. He gave you a quick soft kiss. "Go."

You nodded and return to the stage to get ready for the next song. Holy diver a cover of a cover. You laughed when you had to educate your brother that Dio actually did the song first. However though Dios version was good. Killswitch Engages cover was pretty good too.

You kept your eyes open during your solo. Not wanting another incident. When you were done Eddie was smiling at you and gave you a wink. You smiled back while sticking your tongue at him.

After that song you switched guitars for the next one. This one was definitely different from the rest of the songs you guys normally played. Giving the lyrics. But your brother loved it. So he added it.

The bass started first leading you guys. Your brother started to sing. Then the other guitar and drums. Finally you. You looked at your guitar playing Middle of the Night by Loveless. You waiting for the chorus to add back up vocals for your brother. After the first one your brother continued.

🎵" These burning flames, these crashing waves

Wash over me like a hurricane

I'll captivate, you're hypnotized

Feel powerful, but it's me again

Come, lay me down

'Cause I know this

'Cause I know this sound"🎵

As he sang you looked towards Eddie. It was like you were trying to get him to hear the lyrics. You only took your eyes aways to sing the chorus into the mic.

🎵"In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night

Just call my name, I'm yours to tame

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night

I'm wide awake, I crave your taste

All night long 'til morning comes

I'm getting what is mine, you gon' get yours, oh no, ooh

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night"🎵

Yes the lyrics were a bit risque for you but you knew you wanted him in every way possible. You didn't look back at him out of embarrassment. Trying to focus on not messing up again. You were upset with yourself for messing up. Only your brother would know what it was like growing up. And why you were being so hard on yourself. But you knew that he would never berate you for a mistake like your parents did.

Finally finishing the set you helped the guys break down the stage. Doing your best to hurry to get back to Eddie. But when you looked up he was gone. Your heart sank a little. Where did he go?

You packed some equipment into the van. Still wondering where Eddie was but you found him. He was signing some autographs for 2 beautiful women. There was a small line waiting for him. You smiled happily that his name was out there. But that happiness turned to anger when one of the lady's handed Eddie a small piece of paper and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes found yours the moment it happened. He was visibly displeased. You gave him commiseration smile. You watched as he tossed the paper aside when the women left.

You finished packing and said your goodbyes to your band mates. You lingered off to the side stange watching another band perform, waiting for Eddie. About 20-ish minutes went by before Eddie came.

"Hey beautiful."

Your heart skipped when he spoke.

You turned to him. And you wanted to hug his so tight but he was hurt. So you just beamed at him. He came to you to kiss you again. He held onto your neck while setting a slow rhythm. You put your hands on his belt making sure not to hurt him. After that what felt like only a few seconds the kiss was over. You frowned over it. But Eddie's words eased you.

" Missed you beautiful. "

"missed you too"

...

You studied Eddie's hand. "How did you manage to sprain it?"

" It was raining. And one of the big amps slipped and I guess I grabbed it wrong.....it doesn't hurt though it's just stiff."

" Eddie I swear you need to be more careful."

Eddie nodded " I uhh wanted to ask. Do you think maybe you could help me out tomorrow."

" Yes of course." You said while Eddie kissed your forehead.

"But I don't know any of your songs."

"That's ok." He got up from the hotel bed to get his guitar case.

" No I got it." You went and picked up his case and put it on the bed. Eddie opened it and you took out his guitar. You spent most of the night practicing going back and forth from the music sheet. Finally ok with what you learned you guys got ready for bed.

Eddie held you. " I umm when we go to see my uncle I want to warn you. We didn't live a lavish life. Uhh I grew up in a trailer park."

"ok... So?"

" I just mean that I know your not use to that kind of thing."

"Eddie I don't care about that. I grew up poor. After my parents decided to pursue their music we had lost the house. We couched surfed for a long time until we got a 1 bedroom camper." You leaned up to look at him. " I am in no place to judge. I've been living in a hotel room for the past 7 months. I don't even have a place when this is over."

"You can stay with me?"

" I uhh that's nice of you. But I want to plant my roots somewhere. And you want to sing. That's gonna keep you moving. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

" your not. Maybe we can get a place together. And when I tour you can come with. And after we can go home."

" I can't just be a tag along. I need to do something with myself."

"So you want to spend months apart?" Eddie sounded hurt.

"No. Do you have any idea what these past 3 months have done to me."

" Yes I do. Because it happened to me too."

You sighed." Eddie I want to be with you. I just- I don't want to be a part of that life. I'm only doing this now for my brother. And I'm glad I did, because I got to meet you."

" Do you not want a future with me?"

You hesitate. Because you did. You guys wanted the same thing. But you were on a different schedule.

" I do."

"Ok then why can't we figure something out?"

" I'm sure we will. But Eddie I'm not gonna ask you to put your dreams on hold for something we are not sure of yet."

" what is there to not be sure of? Do you not feel the same for me?"

You looked away and tried to find the right words to say. But you were drawing a blank. For some reason you couldn't see a future where you both agree where to be together.

" I love you." Eddie's words made you look back. He held your cheek. " I love you y/n. And I want us to be together. So please tell me you want that too. Because I can't be away from you for that long anymore."

You bit your lip. He loves you. " Eddie i want you too."

He looked sad that you didn't say it back. You wanted to but the feeling of uncertainty was too hard to ignore.

" it's ok if you don't love me-" you cut him off with a kiss.

" I do. I love you. So much." You kissed him again. Eddie pulled you on top of him. As your kiss deepened you felt a knot in your core. You wanted him.

"Eddie" you whimpered " not like this. Not while your hurt"

Eddie loosened his grip on you and you slid off of him. He pulled you back into his arms.

" I'm sorry I do want to."

" you don't have to say anything. When the time comes it will happen. We don't need to force this or rush it." Eddies voice was low and tired. " Let's get some sleep we have a big day tomorrow."

You nodded. But now the felling you had got worse " I love you Eddie."

Eddie smiled and rubbed your arm. " I love you too."

...

Playing next to Eddie felt right. You weren't nervous for the first time since you learned to play. He owned that stage. He was made to be up there. And being next to him made you feel like you belong too. But you couldn't help the thoughts of doubt crawling their way in.

You had to be honest with yourself. You loved Eddie. You wanted to be with him. But he was suppose to perform. You were suppose to help people. You hated being on the road. You hated not seeing your family for months at a time. You hated the groupies and their advances. You didn't want the rockstar life. You never did. And you couldn't ask Eddie to drop his dream for you. So what could you do. You knew what was to come and it was just simply not meant to be. So you had to end it. End things before you met the family before he convinces you to be a part of the one thing you wanted to be far away from. Sure being famous seemed like fun. With no financial problems or whatever. But life in the lime light was anything but private. You couldn't go anywhere or say anything without the fear of being 'canceled'. You couldn't have a normal life. And that was all you wanted. A normal happy life. Maybe the way you saw things was wrong but it was all you wanted.

...

2 days later you found yourself sitting by the pool. Eddie had went out for drinks with his band mates. You were trying to find the words to say. All you could think about was his smile, his eyes, his voice. You started to cry. You didn't want to do this. But you had to.

After a while trying to pull yourself together and talk yourself into doing it Eddie found you.

" hey beautiful watcha doing down here?"

You didn't say anything. You were trying to muster up the courage. Eddie sat next to you.

" what's wrong?" His concern hurt you. You were about to break his heart.

"I've been thinking."

"About?"

" Us" you sighed " the last few days all I've been thinking about is our future together. And the truth is you're everything I could ever want. I keep thinking about what it would be like to finally having a life together. The more I think about it the more I realized that what we both want is different. Our relationship could never work."

" Why not? I don't understand. I thought you loved me."

" Eddie I do. But I want to be able to call you after a bad day or tell you about some life I saved. Only to be met with unanswered calls. Not to be able to reach you because your working. I want to wake up every morning to your face."

" Then come with me. If you want you can join the band."

" No. You know I don't want that. I'm just a normal person who wants a normal life. And you're incredibly talented, we both know you were made for more than just normal. This isn't gonna work. I can't be the person you want me to be. I'm not built for that life."

" Then I wont live that-"

"No" you cut him off "I won't let you do that. I won't allow you to give up on your dreams for me. I'm not important enough. And even if I was I would never ask you to. I wont live a life with you that you will eventually resent me for "

" No you don't get to make decisions for me y/n."

" No I won't. You're right I can't. But I can make them for myself."

" Don't do this. You haven't even gave us a chance. Why can't you just try?"

"Eddie look it comes down to two options. Either we deal with with a tolerable amount of pain now and part ways or we stay together and deal with unbearable pain later."

"No. We can just love each other and take one day at a time. I know that I want to be with you y/n. And you can't just say you love me too and expect me not to fight for you."

"Eddie please."

" No. I've waited to long for you. And now that you're here with me, I'm not letting you go. I'm going to do whatever it takes. Because I need more than just a few days together. I want more than a handful of kisses. I'm not saying it's going to be hard. No relationship is easy. But you are important to me. So whatever you need just tell me. What can I do?"

You sat there for a minute trying to process. You were just so certain of your decision to end things just a few minutes ago. But now... no one has ever done this. Proclaim their need for you. Willing to sacrifice everything for you. Who were you for someone to do that for. And if they could do that why couldn't you do the same. Sure you've been in love before. But never did it felt like this.

"Y/n. Tell me what to do."

You looked at Eddie who's eyes were starting to fill with tears. Your face softened and you brows pinched together. You bit your lip and stood up. You held out your hand for him. He hesitated of a moment before letting you lead him back to the room.

You stood in front of the bed looking at each other. You slowly moved to Eddie taking off his jacket and took off your shirt revealing your bare chest.

" Are you sure?" Eddie softly spoke.

You grabbed the back of his neck. " It's the only thing I'm absolutely sure of right now."

Eddie caress your cheek." Please don't ever try and leave me. I'm your's"

Eddie kissed you deeply and his hands moved to your back pressing you further into him. He turned you around to lay you down. You pulled yourself a bit higher on the bed so that your feet wouldn't hang off. You watched as Eddie took off his shirt before he crawled up your body finding your lips again. His hair tickled your neck. You slightly shivered from the touch. Eddie got up and tide his hair in a low bun. Your mouth parted taking him in. He made your body tremble from just looking at you. He kissed you again until your lips were a darker shade of pink almost red. Your fingers made their way to his back stroking his spine. Eddie move his mouth to your neck moaning slightly at your warm soft skin. You let out a small gasp when he bit you gently. You couldn't stop your hips from grinding against his. He grunted at the sudden friction moving his teeth from you and placing a soft kiss were he bit. He moved down to your collar bone. His hot breath felt so good on your skin. Eddie kissed along your chest to your shoulder. One his hands found your breast massage it gently while placing chasting kisses on ever inch of your chest. He pushed himself harder against your aching core. Your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. You let out a moan when he took your nipple in his mouth slightly grazing it with his tongue. Your nails dug into his shoulders. His mouth let go for your nipple with a small popping sound. He looked at you so lovingly. You touched his face.

" I love you."

Eddie's smile gave you goosebumps. You loved that damn smile.

" I love you." Eddie said before he kissed you again.

He held himself up with one hand and used the other to unbutton your jeans. You watched him get off of you to remove your pants in one slow motion taking your panties with it. You lifted your knees and presses them together. Eddie stood there for a moment drinking in your nakedness.

" God you are so beautiful."

You blushed at his words. You saw him take his chained wallet out and pull out a condom. You sat up and reached for his button and zipper. He helped you slide off the rest of his clothes. His penis hitting his stomach from being at full length. You laid back down propping yourself up with your elbows bringing your knees back up. You studied his every crease on his body. Every tattoo. Every slight muscle. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. You watched as he slid the condom on. While Eddies eyes never left you. He kneeled between your feet touching your knees. He spread your thighs apart kissing each of them before kissing your tummy all the way up to the small patch of skin between your breasts. Your breast fit perfectly in his big callused hand when he massaged it again. You could feel yourself dripping from everything that led up to this point. Your heart pounding in your ears.

" Are you with me?" Eddie whispered looking at you.

" always"

Eddie kissed you. You felt the head of his penis rub against your wet slit. Your head pressed deeper into the pillow. You held on tight to Eddie's waist as he parted your vagina lips. He ran his head over your throbbing clit. Which caused your hips to buckle.

"I love you" Eddie said into your mouth.

You were gonna say it back but you felt Eddie put himself inside of your sex. You and Eddie moaned at the tightness. He waited for you to get use to him before he thrusted in deeper until he was completely in you. He hit a spot that you haven't felt in a long time. You gasped at the pain in pleasure. Eddie's forehead met yours as he picked up his thrust. He went hard and deep. Hitting that your g-spot every time. You felt a knot deep in your core. Eddie groaned when he felt you tightened around him. " God" left his mouth. You moaned softly as you started to reaching your high. " Fuck I'm gonna cum" the words barely left his mouth. You let the orgasm you were holding back go along with Eddies. Eddie pumped the last of his love out and rested himself on you. You both laid there until you could catch your breath. Eddie's lips found yours again. After a moment he pulled his lips away.

" I love you" you said ever so softly.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader

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