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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ | I Love Playin' With Fire
1982, Reader was The Runaways' bassist, angst? fluffy ending? idrk!
Word Count: 1059
A/N: This is my first time writing since like, 2022. So bear with me if this sucks, LOL. I'm gonna be experimenting with different POVs, prompts, formats, etc. My requests are open though! I'll write just about anything rockstar-related, just nothing too weird. Anyways, enough yap. Enjoy!
You stared at yourself in the mirror. You sighed as you turned, viewing your outfit from another angle. Your outfit consisted of tight, black, leather pants, a white, cropped, graphic band tee, and an oversized leather jacket you had picked up somewhere over the years. You had on black, heeled boots as well. You touched up your makeup as you waited on your friend to pick you up to take you to some artist party.
You tried to stay involved with the music scene after you left The Runaways. No one else was really looking for a female bassist, so you just laid lowed and took on some projects where you could. You planned to start your own solo career eventually, but it was on hold now.
You heard your friend honk her horn outside your house and you went down to her car. You got into the passenger seat and smiled.
"You ready?" She asked.
"Of course I am." You replied.
She began to drive to more rural part of LA. You didn't know who's party it was, only that your friend said you absolutely had to go, whatever that meant. She turned the radio up and for some damn reason Cherry Bomb was playing. You smiled to yourself and looked down, reminiscing on all the memories. You hung with that band till the bitter end, even after Cherie had left. It's hard to leave your family and love.
Your friend parked the car on the street and turned the keys. She put them in her pocket and got out of the car as you followed suit. You heard subtle music as you approached the house. Your friend opened the door to the house, just walking in. You followed her in as she mingled with a few people. You recognized them all, you just weren't in much of a talkative mood.
You made your way over to the drink counter and began to pour yourself a drink. You went back over to your friend as you nursed it. She was steadily talking and you were getting bored. You excused yourself and began to wander around, seeing if any of your closer friends were in attendance.
That's when you spotted her. Joan fucking Jett. Your ex-bandmate, ex-lover, ex-just-about-everything. You tried to look away, but it was too late. She approached you before you could escape. Fuck. You smiled at her and she pulled you in for a side hug.
"How've you been, honey?" She asked with a smile.
"I've been fine, just fine." You cleared your throat. "I see the solo business is treating you well then?"
"Oh, God, It's wonderful. I'm on my own label, my own management. It's amazing. Much better than fucking Kim, man." She said and then laughed.
I laughed too. It was hard not to be when she looked that damn good laughing. She was in her typical attire. Leather pants, punky cut-up top, and her leather jacket. And of course, her converse shes had since '76.
"You havent changed one bit." You say through a smile.
"Oh, don't act like you have." She teased. "So, what are you doing now? Music still?
You nodded. "Picking up gigs here and there. Just trying to make it through till I get some inspiration to start another band or a solo career."
She nodded and swallowed. "How about we, uhm, move somewhere a bit more quiet?" She offered and you gladly accepted. You can't resist her, even if you wanted to. She lead you up the stairs into a bedroom. Her bedroom. And then it clicked why your bestfriend wanted you here. She knew it was Joan's party all along.
You set your drink on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed across from Joan. "So are we gonna talk about it or what?" You said, bluntly.
Joan was a little taken aback, knowing you weren't usually this straight forward. “We need to, don’t we.” She stated.
“You left me high and dry. I mean, I get it, you were worried about your next gig, but I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t expect you to take me along, but fuck, a goodbye would’ve been nice?” You replied, trying not to get emotional.
“I-I know. I’m sorry. It’s just I-” She shook her head. “I can’t even make an excuse. It was shitty, I was stupid and scared, and I knew I couldn’t be what you needed.” She admitted.
“You know you could have told me that. You know I would’ve been there for you every step of the way, Joanie.” Joanie. That dumb little nickname you had for her.
“I know you would have. And truthfully, I don’t know why I did it. I was spiraling, the band had failed, I was hooked on drugs, I wasn’t on talking terms with anyone but you and Sandy. It sucked, baby. It was scary. I thought I was done for.”
You nodded along, listening to everything she had to say. You didn’t think of some of that. That band was her baby, her pride and joy. And she had to watch it crash and burn over drugs, temper tantrums, and shitty management. Not to forget about Lita’s stupid and sudden obsession with everyone’s sexualities.
“I thought that to have a successful solo career I had to forget the Runaways. Forget anything that had to do with it, you know? Like I had to start completely over.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose. That’s when you really noticed how enlarged her pupils were and you couldn’t help but shake your head.
“You still hooked?” You asked and your eyes softened.
She stared back at you and bit her lip. “Im okay, baby.”
Fuck.
“Joan, honey..” You started, but she cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. You looked at her and made eye contact and you felt something. She moved her finger and held eye contact. You swallowed anxiously. Joan leaned in and kissed you before you could say anything else.
You were taken aback but kissed her back. How could you not? You couldn’t deny that you still had feelings for her. Your love for her never left, as much as you told yourself it did. Joan pulled back and looked into your eyes, her hand moving to hold your jaw gently.
“You missed that, Hm?” “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
#joan jett#joan jett x reader#joan jett and the blackhearts#the runaways#x reader#joan jett x fem!reader
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