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menlove · 8 months ago

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[image id: an ask from @harbingerofskulls that reads: "im gonna b real i only knew the jerking off i would love to hear you elaborate more if you want to go on the whole situation" /end id]

answering here so i can save as a draft without risking the ask disappearing bc tumblr's been doing that lately but

oh god </3 for everyone else- it's talking about this post. sooo i'm gonna go through each one bc i've been feeling insane for several weeks. i'll do my best to cite my sources lmao

i don't know (johnny johnny)

this is referring to this unreleased VERY early beatles track from 1960. the audio quality is absolute shit & as such unfortunately people love to put words to it that don't make much sense in either direction (i.e a lot of mclennon fans want to hear "you're in love with me" and a lot of people that hate mclennon will just make up the weirdest lyrics that make 0 sense so it's Not Gay). some of the lyrics that ARE clear make it obvious this song is about the two of them running away together- at one point i'm fairly certain paul says "how am i gonna tell my father that we're leaving town?" probably referring to them leaving to hamburg. which would be fine but some of the other lyrics areeeee..... very..... Hm. like multiple times paul refers to john as "my boy" and there's bits of them talking about not knowing what to tell their friends & wanting to just run off together alone. if i were the other members of the band having to record this i would have killed them with hammers <3 also the entire end is just paul going "oh johnny" like 1 million times. okay. sure. also since the lyrics ARE so garbled i mean i guess people could be right about it saying "how am i gonna tell my father you're in love with me" but i just don't hear it. still, a very gay song about running off together and getting away from everything and everyone, complete with moaning the other's name </3

2. paris

this one is a huge part of McLennon Fandom Lore lmao but for good reason. not citing sources on all this bc it's one of those that's just Fact & can be found in like any beatles biography or thebeatlesbible.com (my savior) but. for john's 21st birthday, he got 100 pounds from a rich relative. instead of taking his girlfriend or any of his other friends, he decided to use the money to take paul to spain. but they stopped in paris on the way and just decided to stay there. which i mean like. taking your best friend over your girlfriend to the city of love is a little weird but it's not THAT weird. it's everything else that makes people want to chew glass about it. including some of the other things on this list. like this audio of john just goofing around singing about paris and paul, with such hits as "my cheri, my pau pau my pau paul." which is :| okay best friend. and paul has this picture hung up in his house that he took of john sleeping in paris. okay. sure. why not. (although ig there's some doubt about if the photo is from paris? either way it's a picture paul took and has framed in his house which is incriminating enough my man). also NOT in the original post but may pang, a woman john had a brief affair with in the 70s, wrote a book called loving john. in it, there's this quote:

After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.”

okay! also in an interview once he said:

The thing was all the kissing and the holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic, just to be there and see them, even though I was twenty-one and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing; and they weren’t mauling at each other, they were just kissing.

(interview with david scheff for playboy in september 1980)

3. if i fell

this one i already made an insane post on that started my spiral into posting about the beatles publicly </3 but, essentially, the song "if i fell" by john is..... well it's most likely about paul. he said it wasn't about his wife but that it was auto-biographical and he never really had any public affairs that weren't flings, certainly not a lover. but most damning is he wrote the complete lyrics for the first time on a valentine's day card addressed "to paul with love" with some hearts and arrows pointing to where the lyrics were written. absolutely insane. made me insane.

4. oh! darling

rawest paul song of all time if i do say so myself lmao. but it's just.... Highly Suspicious, that's what it is. a Lot of beatles fans/historians will admit this song is most likely about john but they won't admit that it's fucking romantic if it is. like.

like that is so blatantly romantic idk what to say other than that. also, in the official recording on abbey road, there's Several points where paul says "darling" that sound more like he's saying "johnny" which is what he called him. people brush it off by saying it's his accent, but there's a very clear difference between when he's saying "darling" and when he's saying "johnny". i mean the Lore behind this is that it was written right when things were splitting up between them (& the rest of the band) so it makes sense and it's why most people are willing to accept it's about john. it's just insane to me that they'll accept it's about john without considering the implications of that.

5. the real life demo

this one made me want to light myself on fire i won't lie to you. but here it is! john had a song called "real love" and this is a very early demo of it. but instead of the lyrics that came to actually be in the song (which are thought to be about yoko but let's not get into the fact that it was on a tape labeled "for paul" but whatever), it includes john fucking crying as he sings saying:

"was i just dreaming or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way... la la la la farm..."

which can quite literally be about no one else but paul, as this demo was recorded when he'd just had two children with his wife linda and linda was pregnant with their third child. they'd moved to a farm in scotland. hearing this audio clip did genuinely make me want to lie down in the dirt for a week. also "i used to hold you in my arms" just... yeah. god. when people think it was unrequited idk what to say, really.

6. If Paul Were A Woman-

shoving these two together but. in april of 85, paul said in an interview about john and yoko's relationship:

"I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, 'Who’s this?' You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…"

okay bestie <3 and what would make your relationship different if you were a woman? interesting! and yoko had something similar to say. in this audio, she says:

"I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat – because there’s something definitely very strong between John and Paul."

just reminds me of being a kid and telling my best friends "if i were a boy i'd date you" lol. incredible. does anyone here know about bisexuality.

7. stuart!

not much to say here except that john had a best friend, stu sutcliffe, who died young & before that had been the bassist in the band. paul fucking hated him sooo much oh he SEETHED. a lot has been written on that relationship but it was.... very interesting to say the least. it could have just been about the band, or just jealousy over john's friendship, but take that with a lot of john biographers suspecting john had feelings/even a sexual relationship with stuart and it paints a very Interesting picture to say the least

8. john's bisexuality

here's a compilation of quotes about it, but john was more than likely bisexual. which has nothing to do w paul, really, but more to do against people that like to claim they were both Heterosexual Men. although an interesting quote in this compilation is him saying he's "had paul" lmfao

9. paul's post-beatles work

there's just.... there is so so so much here i don't even know where to begin. @ringompreg has a good compilation of paul songs here. a lot of them do take a bit of Lore but like..... it comes down to the fact that both him and john have/had admitted many times to using their lyrics during The Breakup Years to talk to/reference each other and sooooo many of these lyrics are insanely blatant. the two i mentioned were tug of war and let me roll it, both of which are acknowledged to be about john by most people WITH NO ONE BOTHERING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT which..... tug of war has this:

we could stand on top of the mountain with our flag unfurled? dancing to a beat played on a different drum? this is what gaylors think gaylor conspiracy is but paul mccartney is really out here saying this shit.

and let me roll it is so fucking blatantly romantic but every reviewer is like haha! what a cool song that's "making fun" of john and clearly in his style! like are straight people stupid genuinely. anyway:

bonus to that but about JOHN'S solo work :)))))) he wrote a song called "watching the wheels" and when you consider he very much responded to MANY of paul's solo stuff it's :)

which as a response to let me roll it would just be... so devestating but it may be a stretch idk if i'm onto anything there it's just worth Mentioning

and there's a lot of others, a lot of them in that post up there. like far too many where paul mentions falling in love with a friend like Alright.

10. paul's first lsd trip with john/"i know" "i know"

this one is less blatantly romantic but it is just insane. here's an article. and a quote from george martin about it. the first time paul tripped on acid w john was bc john accidentally took some and he took him home & then took acid w him bc he didn't want john to be alone on the trip :( but, notably:

"And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot," the singer recalled, "And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away."

he also apparently saw john as the, and i quote, "emperor of eternity" during this trip??????? okay

SOMEWHERE i can't find it rn and i'm getting lazy but somewhere they (i think paul?) talk about the fact that they used to just stare into each other's eyes and then say "i know" "i know" which. considering john's song "i know (i know)" makes me crazy

11. in my life/i will

these are really just some devastating songs with lyrics that make you really raise your eyebrows. for in my life, written by john, it's just an incredibly romantic & sweet song that is again, not about his wife. given that the lennon estate is still out here posting pictures of paul to those lyrics i have to say it's a liiiiittle suspicious. and i will is...... it's one that paul insists is not about his girlfriend at the time, jane asher. and when you look at the lyrics vs how him and john met.... like. the song goes:

and the story of how they met was that paul saw john repeatedly before they ever met, when he didn't know who john was other than that he thought he looked cool & admired his sideburns (lmfao). and when they did finally meet, it was when john was singing at a garden fete (party) and paul was in the crowd just Mesmerized. so. well. you can see.... you can see how fitting that is. makes me crazy makes me want to chew glass actually

12. "we were each other's intimates" and other insane quotes

"we were each other's intimates" is a paul quote about john which is just insane but that's not even the tip of the iceberg. here's a ton of quote compilations.

13. "literally everything else"/honorable mentions

some honorable mentions go out to: john going on stage w elton john & playing i saw her standing there and introducing it as "a song by an estranged fiance of mine" okay! the "just like starting over" demos. okay! which isn't even to MENTION the fact that paul locked himself away in the studio listening to "just like starting over" on repeat for DAYS after john died like???? john saying repeatedly that he considered paul & yoko to be his two major partners in life including in an interview the literal day he died. a whole ass rpf movie where they kiss & talk like they're ex-lovers and dance in central park (two of us) made by the same dude that made the let it be movie like. he knew them personally? he worked with them closely? and the only thing paul had to say about it was just essentially that it was what he wished would've happened like???????? i can't find a super reliable source for this so take it w a grain of salt, but apparently paul referred to mclennon fanfiction as "beautiful stories" and doesn't mind them being written. paul also had a cat that had kittens & he named two of the kittens pyramus and thisbe after fictional lovers he and john played and he gave pyramus (the character paul played) to john :|

and literally so much else like all of this and it's not even all of it. it's not even close to all of it. i didn't even get to talk about the way in "get back" the documentary, paul started talking about john leaving the band for yoko and how john would choose her over them and then he got teary eyed, started choke laughing, and then started singing "build me up buttercup" before looking at the cameras and stopping. what the FUCK was that about! IT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE SONG "TWO OF US" THAT'S SO OBVIOUSLY ABOUT JOHN THAT IT HURTS. it's. it's not even scratching the surface. they were just genuinely insane about each other.

#mclennon #this is long but it had to be to expand on every reference i made in that post FJADJFASDF

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months ago

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Joy: Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @rita-lean @yousigned-upforthis @factualfic @ayeeeee-ayeeeeeeeeeeee

Companion piece to:

One Night Stand (NSFW)

Gift (NSFW)

Safe With You

All The Good Ones Are (NSFW)

Richie knows you’re The One when you patch up the stab wound he has in his ass in the your bathroom. He’s standing with both palms pressed to the vanity, watching you in the mirror as you take an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit you keep under the sink and use it to clean the wound. He hisses through his teeth at the sting of it and the edges of your lips turn up into a smile.

“You’re a sadist.” He accuses you, his jaw clenching and you raise your eyes to meet his in the reflection.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have pissed off Sydney.” You remind him as you toss the wipe into the trash and remove another.

“She comes in with all these big ideas, as if she knows better.” He says, his voice raising as he grips the counter because that second round of wound cleaning it somehow it seems to hurt more than the first.

“Richie baby, you’re shouting…” You say as you pick up a band aid and compare it to the wound.

“That’s because I got stabbed in the ass and I’m a little frustrated.” He retorts, his voice hitching in agitation.

“No.” You say quietly, slapping the band aid onto his ass. “It's because you’re sad.”

He looks at you then in the reflection of the mirror and he wants to laugh, to bite back with something cutting but he doesn’t because you’re right he is sad. Every little change that Sydney implements is just another way that Mikey is being erased and it hurts, it hurts more than being stabbed in the ass ever could.

“It feels like he’s disappearing.” Richie says as he tugs up his tracksuit bottoms. “Like I’m losing him all over again.”

“I know baby.” You say, you palm rubbing a soothing circle over his back as your cheek comes to rest on his shoulder. “But it’s not Sydney’s fault, she’s just trying to make some order out of the chaos.”

The chaos that she created with the pre-order fuckup, the thing that send everybody’s day into a fucking spiral. It’s not even that that’s bothering him. Objectively he knows she’s right, they need to step up, to move forward if they want to stay afloat. It’s the other shit that’s weighing on him, the things she said as she waved that knife around by her cutting station.

“She called me a loser.” He says finally as he tilts his face towards you. “And I kinda think maybe she was right. I don’t fucking contribute anything, not at work, not with Eva, not here…”

Your fingertips ghost along the stubble of his grizzled cheek as he looks down at you. There’s such pain in those vibrant blue eyes of his, such grief and devastation. Any other day those words they would have washed right off his back but not today, not on the anniversary of Michael’s death. Instead they sink into his skin like barbs, embedding themselves deep, scarring his psyche.

You’re biggest fear, the one that keeps you awake at night is that he’ll follow Mikey into the grave. That all the shit the world has to offer will eat him up inside, that somehow you won’t see it and you’ll come home to the same thing that he did, a locked door and a sensation of dread that you just can’t shake.

“You are not a loser.” You say fiercely. “You are everything to me and you are everything to Eva. You are a wonderful father and the best partner a woman could ask for…”

“You’re just saying that…”

“Yes I am because I love you, and you love me.” You tell him, your thumb tracing over the his cheekbone. “Do you know how much of a mess I was before you, how worthless I felt? You saved me from that, you helped me see there was good in the world. You are my sunshine Richie, the light that breaks through the clouds on a really shitty day and you will never stop being that to me, you will never stop bringing me joy.”

“I bring you joy?” He says, his voice breaking just a little as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “That’s funny because your name is Joy, and you bring me all the fucking joy, like truckloads of it, mountains of it.”

You smile then and fuck if it doesn’t feel like he’s seeing the sunrise for the very first time.

“So now that we’ve established that we bring each other joy can we go the fuck to bed?” You ask him, your palms smoothing over the front of his t-shirt.

“You just want to get me undressed again.” He murmurs, a little bit of that brightness back in his gaze.

That weight he’s been carrying, it’s starting to feel a little lighter now. There’s not so much pressure in his chest, he can breath a little easier.

“Maybe.” You whisper, your thumb trailing over the line of his jaw. “Maybe I just want to remind you of all the good things you deserve.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know I don’t deserve you.” He tells you as he looks into your eyes. “But I’m going to work on that, I’m going to do everything I can to become the man you think I am.”

“Richie…” You begin but his mouth covers yours drowning out your words, his hands rake through your hair and you arch against him because this man, he knows exactly how to get you going.

“Baby.” He whispers, his lips brushing over the corner of your mouth. “I need you to shut up and let me give you a little joy.”

Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fx #the #bear #Richard Richie Jerimovich #Richard Richie Jerimovich x reader #richard jerimovich #richard jerimovich x reader

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anemoiashifts · 6 months ago

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a collective shifting reading.

hi guys :) if you’re seeing this on tumblr that means you’re getting this three hours early but 7.10 is the anemoiashifts tiktok accounts first birthday 🎂🤍 !

i wanted to do something special & originally i wanted to talk about the first time — and only time — that i have shifted but i don’t think im ready to share something that personal to hundreds of strangers on the internet. then, i was going to do a q&a but i thought that would be a little lazy, then i thought about going live & doing live shifting readings on tiktok but im a pretty shy person so that idea went out the window as quickly as it came. so i hope this video will do :) !

this is a collective shifting reading for all of my followers or anyone who comes across this. this reading is going to be a little longer then my previous ones because i want to provide as much clarity as i can to try & help you guys ⊹ ₊ ⟡ ⋆

who this is for ₊˚ෆ

this reading is for everyone who has shown me support within the past year or decided to stick around for whatever reason; even if this video magically stumbles upon your path. but here are some specifics that ive picked up on:

star or heart shaped jewelry (rings, bracelets, necklaces, etc.) specially, silver jewelry or silver in general. maybe you’re someone who doesn’t take well to criticism. if you have a connection to foxes, mice / rats or house cats. shiny & holographic clothing. soft makeup shades (baby pink, nudes, baby blue).

reading ₊˚ෆ

your biggest “blockade” is your over commitment to your desired reality & shifting as a whole. there needs to be balance or you are pouting yourself at risk for losing your sense of self & going into a downwards spiral. your relationship with shifting is filled with limerence instead of taking control of your life & looking at your life (here or in your dr) long term. you may have multiple dr’s which only fuel that fascination with shifting as a concept. you want to experience so many different things, but you can’t do everything all at once. you have made too many commitments at once. to provide that clarity to yourself, focus on one place at a time. the reason you are so disconnected to your dr is because you’re trying to simultaneously connect with the ten others that you have in that works.

you already understand what doesn’t serve you, doesn’t serve you. weather that be patterns or methods or mindset. you have already let go of them. you don’t need to rehash what you already know. while nostalgic, the era of 2020 / 2021 shiftok has ended & looking back on the past is pointless. because of this looking back to this era with such a yearning to re-spark that initial excitement that you had when the idea of shifting was shown to you, it can quickly become a distraction; reminiscing instead of reigniting.

if you feel stuck, it’s because you feel directionless in your shifting journey. you have so many ideas & so much you want to do but feel lost at sea. you are struggling yo see progress or success. without looking back on what no longer serves you, go back to what you want to get out of shifting. to get out of this never ending cycle, you need to take responsibility for yourself & journey. you also need to recognize the power you already hold. nothing separates a “successful” shifter from a non successful shifter other then how you personally choose to define it. this could be a reflection of your lack of self confidence & be a sign to honoring yourself. how your view yourself, dictates your relationships with other people & how you show up in the world. you could be repressing traumas & emotions & trying to put a band aid over them though shifting. if you feel shame or stupid for putting in energy to reality shift, don't. if it brings you joy then know anything that brings you happiness is worth it & never a waste.

thank you for reading & i hope this resonated with you & you were able to maybe see your journey in a new light or get some clarity. i love you so very much !! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀ !!

#desired reality #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter #reality shifter

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wolfish-trickster · 2 months ago

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Old friend's hat

Cowboy!Geto x female!reader

Word count: 3.7K

Summary: your friends abandon you in a bar to go dance with some hot cowboys. While you drink your loneliness away your very own cowboy joins you.

Warnings: typos, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption, slight suggestive smut at the end

"Oh my god I love this one!" Your friend exclaimed for at least a hundreth time that night. You could swear she was saying that to every other song the band played in this relatively big bar. The closer it got to midnigh the more crowded it was making it feel small and claustrophobic. Glancing at your friend cuddling up to a guy she just met you smirked. Didn't look like she minded the crowd as much as you did.

"Then what are we waiting for miss?" The cowboy held out his hand for your friend to take it and lead her back to the dance floor. "What about your friend though?" He nodded at you, his wide hat making for a pretty good pointer.

"Oh no, i'm good," you held out a glass of some alcohol you long forgotten, "have fun."

The guy nodded and turned his back to you as he lead your friend away. All she did was mouth you a 'thank you' and disappeared among all other ladies with their dance partners. You smiled to yourself and turned fully towards the bar. It's not like you craved a dance partner for yourself. The dancefloor was so cluttered people there grinded on eachother in an obscene way rather than properly danced. The only guy you would want to do that with, the only one you would theoretically trust enough to do that with, wasn't here. Hasn't been in couple of years.

You sighed reminiscing about your old friend. How he's been, whether he found what he was looking for. Why he left your small town all those years ago. You shook him from your head. Today is about having fun, not letting yourself be swallowed by depression over your lost friend. Dance-grinding with strangers was out of the question. The alcohol though.

You downed your unknown liquor, shivered as its bitterness hit the back of your throat and asked the barteneder for something sweet.

"Careful miss," he told you as he was mixing up your drink."

"Don't worry," you smiled and took the glass he gave you. It was nice, someone being concerned about you. Even though it was his job.

As you took your first sip the front door to your right swung open making you choke on the sweet liquid. It's been a while since anyone has arrived, the sudden movement startling you. You just shrugged and took a big gulp of the cocktail. Everyone you knew was on the dancefloor anyways, no need to check on the newcomers.

You midlessly sipped on your drink till your head finally started to spin. That was good. That's what you wanted. Drunk enough to feel better but not too much to not know what you were doing. You layed your head down onto the bar and breathed in the rich smell of the wood. Reminding you of your childhood. With him.

You finished your glass and asked for another one.

"Are you okay miss?" The kind bartnder asked as he was taking your empty glass back.

"Yeah, m'okay, just," you glanced up at the busy crowd of people, the difference between their joy and your loneliness squeezing at your heart, "just tired."

The bartender nodded and mixed you the same drink but with less alcohol this time, putting it infront of you while muttering a 'take it easy' before walking away to tend to the newcomers.

"Take it easy," you mocked him even though you knew he meant well. The drink was now more sugar than alcohol but you didn't mind. It felt good anyways.

"Excuss me," someone interrupted you before you could spiral into depression, "are you okay?"

You hummed. "Yeah, just depressed. Don't worry about it," you answered the kind stranger and took your glass to take another sip but the stranger's big hand grabbed yours.

"There are better ways to deal with your feelings than drowning them in alcohol."

Okay worrying about you even though he doesn't know you is fine, at least you didn't lose faith in humanity, but not allowing you to drink to feel better is a red fucking line.

You straightened yourself up from half laying on the bar and glared at him. "And why do you care anyways?" It came out a bit more aggressive than you intended to, you should really stop drinking before lose even more control. But then yoh got a closer look at the rather handsome cowboy standing before you. Black hat with bright blue bandana wrapped around the middle column, clean shaved face, broad shoulders hidden beneath a black shirt with couple undone buttons. But his eyes. You only ever knew one guy with eyes as purple as his. "Suguru?"

"Y/N?" He asked in as much disbelief as you. Then he smiled and scratched the top of you head ruffling your hair, just like when the two of you were younger. "My my, look at you! You've grown so much. Where's that little girl that played with me on the farm, eh?" He took a seat next to you.

"Look who's talking. Where did all this come from?" You poked his abnormally big pectorals. Might as well be bigger than yours.

"Years of mounting wild horses," he flexed infront of you a bit, making the poor shirt hold onto its dear life.

He chuckled at your amazed expression and relaxed. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me the qjiet shy girl found the beauty of a town bar. And what's with this?" He tapped your half empty glass.

"Oh, uhm," you shoved it aside, "nothing. Just felt like getting a little dizzy."

"Dizzy huh," he commented and ordered himself something stronger. While he waited he took off his hat and put it on a bar between you two.

"Wow," you mumbled when you saw how long his hair has gotten. Granted, his entire childhood until he left he sported a long mane, but it was usually tied up in a bun. Now it was completely lose, falling down his back like a black waterfall.

He noticed you oggling his hair and smirked. "Don't worry, you can braid it later."

"How do you-? You still remember?"

"Of course I do. You asking to braid my hair was highlight of my day." His drink finally arrived and he took a sip.

"Even when you turned me down every time?" You poked his side teasingly like you always did. With the difference that before you could feel his ribs. Now all you could feel was hard muscle. Lots of it.

"I only did so because my hair felt like dry hay. Not even close to soft like yours," he moved to scratch the top of your head again, feeling your hair. "I didn't want you to suffer through styling it."

"Oh come on! I wouldn't have mind! Besides I could've given you some oils and shampoos to make it softer."

"Aaand that's exactly what would damage it even more."

You looked up at him puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean look at my hair. Ever since i left I only wash it in water and look how shiny it is."

"Eeew, you mean how greasy it is," you swatted his hand from the back of your head where it migrated to and picked up his surprisingly soft lock.

"Natural oils baby," he winked at you and downed the whole glass, not even making any grimace.

All the blood rushed to your face at his nickname for you. Sure back then he had all sorts of nicknames; butterfly, little one, doll, pony. But never baby. Embarassed as all hell and to hide how flustered you were becoming you took his hat, put it on and pulled his long rim deep down to cover your whole face. Reaching back fir your own unfinished drink you heard him chuckle. Did he notice?

"What?" You asked.

You felt him shake his head and ask for another whiskey. "Nothing, nothing, just," with his forefinger he tilted the long rim back up to see your face again. "Nah, you're too pure for that," he concludes and take a sip of his newly arrived drink.

"Do you mean 'you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy'?"

Without a warning he spits his drink out and starts coughing. You pat him on his back, even though with your sorry excuse of a strangth it probably didn't even help.

While you were helping Suguru, his friends were quietly observing your from afar. A white haired guy with equally white hat and a purple bandana wrapped around it eyed you the most. "She seems familiar but for the love of me I can't remember where from..."

"You must remember!" One of the girls sitting around insisted. "You said you and Geto didn't have many friends around here. There's no way you don't remember her."

"Calm down Akane," a different guy hugged her around shoulders. "Why are you always hung up on him? Am I not good enough for you?"

"Yeah Akane, let my buddy breath for a second!" The white haired chuckled and gulped down his cocktail. "Seriously take a hint. He rejected you a long time ago. Look around: plenty of new guys to pick from. Three sitting right here," he spread his arms to present himself like a peacock. "You can share right ladies?" He asked two gurls each sitting on one of his thighs leaning against his broad chest.

"Yes mister Gojo," they said in unison and batted their eyelashes.

"Don't include me into this," a brooding blonde leaned back protecring his beer and eyeing the dancefloor with envy. If only there was less people...

The girl, Akane, shook off her companion's arm from around her shoulders and glared back your way, burning holes into your hand on Geto's bicep. "He's the one I want. And he's the one I'll get."

"Where do you even know that from?" Still coughing Suguru asked as he was wiping the spilled alcohol from himself.

You shrugged and took a new napkin to scrub his shirt with. "Got new friends. A little older. Learned it from them."

"New friends," he muttered and threw all dirty napkins into the faraway bin behind the bar.

"Bullseye," you grinned, "must be from the years of catching wild horses into your lasso right?" You looked back at him expecting to see happy smiley Suguru just like before. But now his expression was...apologetic.

"I'm sorry I left all those years ago."

Your smile fell. You didn't want to open this door. What happened happened and that was it. But now that he borught it up. He was your only friend. And then one day he just up and left because life in this small town where you both grew up wasn't good enough for him and Gojo. He left you, leaving only a note.

"It's fine," you turned back towards the bar fully, not sitting with chest facing Suguru like before. "I got used to your absence pretty quickly."

Maybe you should really stop drinking. Being this letty was unlike you. But in your twisted logic he deserved it. He hurt you too long time ago. A little payback can't hurt a guy like him. He must've toughened up while he was gone.

But hurt he did get. The only reason why he even came back to the little end of the world now sat completely disinterested in him nonchalantly telling him she got used to him not being around. The only thing on his mind in long hot nights was how much you must miss him. How happy you'll be once he comes back after making a name for himself. How eagerly you'll say yes when-

Fine. He can be petty too. "Your new group can't be better than me," he pointed with his thumb behind his back at the dancefloor. "All of them left you too."

His words hurt, but the alcohol was already in your head. Before you could say the first hurtful thing you downed the rest of your drink. "I already told you I got used to being alone," and with that you jumped down from the tall barstool. Only to stumble, forgetting your knees bend quite easily once you're not focusing on keeping them straight.

Luckily Suguru got long arms. Before you could completely faceplant he cought your waist and held you close to him. Even standing up you were still a bit shorter than him. "You okay?" He asked in a tender voice, all hurtful comments forgotten.

You nodded. It's been a while since you were this close to anyone. You always loved his shoulders, even when they were narrow and scrawny. How you longed to hug him around them. To feel how big they've gotten.

From afar Akane seethed with rage. Like a vulcano before its final erruption. Which came in the form of you in Geto's embrace. Ignoring her bickering group she strided towards you.

Just as you were about to snake your arms around Suguru's neck and pull him into you a new stranger approached you. She was pretty, prettier than any girl in this town for sure. With a nicely tanned skin. Obviously from prancing around a town and carefully timing her time on the sun unlike most girls around here with uneven tan from long hours working on their families' farms.

"Sugu~" even her voice was soft and melodic, "how long are you gonna be with your little sister? Hm? When will you return back to us?" She leaned down a bit making sure her cleavage was on full display for both of you, for you to spark jealousy and for Suguru to show him what he's missing out on. Suguru however stayed unphased by her body and more confused by her words. You are faster in questioning the girl before you though.

"Little sister?" You push yourself back from Suguru's embrace and stood on your own straight legs.

The beauty nodded. "Yeah, little sister. He wouldn't shut up about her. She was the whole reason we went to this..." she looked around the bar, "dump."

Her voice was nice but the words it carried were cutting your ears. Little sister? Dump? Did Suguru really tell his newfound friends these things?

Maybe the alcohol made you oversensitive, maybe you took special offense once you realized what kinds of nasty stuff Suguru probably did with her but right now all you wanted was to be away.

"I never said this place was a dump," Suguru growled as he stood up and towered over Akane. "And I never called Y/N my little sister. Now get lost you filthy liar before I do something I should've done a long time ago."

Akane stumbled back a bit but held her ground. "I-"

"Get lost."

Suguru shoved her out of the way. At that moment he noticed something. His hat that was on your head the entire time. It fell to the ground. And you left.

When the after rodeo party started there was no cloud in the sky. Now there was a light drizzle. It was quite romantic. Soft waterdrops here and there. Semi clear sky. Shiny moon. Stars. If only your head was clearer. If only there wasn't a huge ball in your throat.

Did Suguru really tell everyone you were his little sister? What did that woman do with him the whole time he was gone?

All sorts of questions plagued your mind before your legs came to a stop. You arrived to a lake. It was significant for your town, the more it rained the bigger it became. It was never deep enough to swim in but never too shallow to have awesome mud wars with Suguru.

You smiled at the memory. You always sucked at throwing, your go to strategy was to tackle him to the ground. And he would always hook his legs around you and pulled you tk the ground while he sat on top of you and shoved mud into your face.

You didn't even know when your tears joined the water drops on your cheeks, but once they started flowing you couldn't stop. You wanted that simple time back. You wanted to go back and keep Suguru here with you, nail him to the bed if needed.

Suddenly something smelling like leather fell on your head. Black with a long rim.

You turned around spotting Suguru, apologetic expression on his face. "You left this behind."

You kept staring at him. Your head still spinned and you were wondering if Suguru was really here or if you drank too much again. But the hat felt real, the faint leathery smell mixing with gunpowder felt real too. So you said the first sensible thing coming to your mind. "It's your hat though."

He chuckled. "It looked good on you."

There was an awkward silence for a while. Nothing but soft raindrops hitting the nearby lake. He decided to break it first.

"I want to apologize. Akane was out of line and-"

"It's okay."

"What?" His head snapped to you.

"It's okay. I understand. If I were you I'd be ashamed too," you smiled and stared somewhere far away. Into the hills clouded by a slight fog.

"What are you-"

"I mean, I finally get it why you left. If there are girls like her everywhere else I'd-"

"CAN YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME?!"

You jerked at his loud voice.

"Sorry, sorry. But," he inhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you can't make assumptions like that without letting me explain first. So be a good girl and let me talk. Without you spiraling. Deal?" He asked gently.

You nodded. What else could you do?

"Thank you. She lied."

You looked up at him from beneath the wide hat rim.

"Akane lied about everything. I never called this place a dump. You were never a sister to me. And truthfully," he put his hands on your shoulders and stepped a bit closer, "I left to get money. To make a name for myself. This little town is nice and all but with my parents losing their farm I would have nothing to offer to your father and he would never agree to give you to me."

During his rant you could only stare. He wanted you?

"That's actually why I came back," he said and moved his hands from your shoulders to cup your cheeks. "I came here for you."

"For me?" You asked still not believing his words. Your longtime friend. Your forbidden crush. He left only to come back to get you?

"Yeah silly, for you," he smiled and stroked your cheeks.

"But why?" You just wanted to be sure. You only needed to know you didn't misunderstand.

"Because~" he leaned in, his fohead lightly touched the rim of his hat, giving you time to pull back. Instead you tipped your head up. The hat's rim was no longer separating your heads from moving closer to eachother.

Your lips touched. And your knees almost gave up again. Suguru's arms wrapped around your waist and fully pulled you into him. His open mouthed kisses were making your head spin more than the alcohol, making you even more drunk.

And more bold too.

Without thinking your tongue bolted out from your mouth and licked his bottom lip. With a deep moan he opened his mouth and stroked your tongue with his. In your tipsy clumsiness your teeth slightly touched his and you cringed. But he apparently didn't care. He only wanted to taste you more.

But you needed to breath.

With all your might you pushed on his shoulders and gasped for air, hating the fact you needed it more than his lips.

He chuckled at your expression and adjust the cowboy hat on your head to not make it fall to the muddy ground. Before you could pull yourself up back to him a bright lightning crossed the sky startling both of you. The rain thickened too.

"Listen," he said inbetween gasps, "me and my companions rented couple of rooms in that old hotel down the main street," he picked you up bridal style not trusting your knees at the moment (just like you). "And I have a separate one. We can spend the night there."

"And follow the rule?" You asked and pointed at his hat on your head.

He chuckled and began walking back to the town. "When you sober up."

"But I am sober!" You pouted and hugged him around his neck.

"You almost fell from your own feet. I'm pretty difficult to mount," he smirked, "you wouldn't last very long in my rodeo."

You whined but kept quiet. Your eyes were heavy anyways. It won't hurt to close them for a bit. The hotel isn't that far away. It'll be just for a bit.

The next time you opened your eyes was in a vertical position. You were only in your undergarments, your dress hung on a chair to dry. There was something warm next to you. Something solid.

You turned your head to see a smirking Suguru, long hair spread out on his pillow. "Well well, falling asleep after being denied a ride."

Suddenly all your memories from yesterday hit you. In a futile attempt to hide your embarrassment you pulled up the blanket over your face. "Sorry," you mumbled.

"Lucky for you," he pulled down the blanket and hovered above you, "I know how to fix it."

You gulped. The last time you were beneath him like this was during one of your famous mud wars. But this, this time it was different.

Instead of painting your face with mud he leaned to the side to retrieve his hat, put it on your head and leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So, who's gonna ride first?"

#suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto fluff #suguru geto fluff #suguru geto angst #geto angst #geto x you

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icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

Text

Then Again

♥ ♥ rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: In this the third part of what's now become my Eddie story, following "Only Now" and "Over Now". Since your last visit, Eddie spiraled, and Eddie spiraled hard. An exciting event brings all of you, the whole gang, back into a room together and even though time has passed, and everyone seems to have moved on... have you?

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, smut, angst

Author’s note: all of the girlies who left me lengthy messages and shared your ideas; this one's because of you and entirely for you. I really hope it answers all of your questions and lives up to all of your expectations!

Wordcount: 9.8K

(find all four parts of this story here)

Eddie stared at the invitation he pulled from a delicate beige envelope he'd just been handed by a roadie. The chaos from setting up the stage in a venue they'd just arrived at that day was always something Eddie liked to escape. He'd find a quiet place to wait all of it out, sometimes even stayed on the bus, until he'd be called to stage for soundcheck. When a roadie knocked and walked into his dressing room, Eddie was already up on his feet because he thought it was time, but then he was given an envelope with his name written on and was left alone again.

The influx of feelings nearly knocked him off his boots; joy, fear, guilt, relief, shame - it all hit him at once, hard. Square in his chest, where it hurt him the most and where he felt he probably deserved it the most, too.

“Fifteen months today?”

“Day after tomorrow, but, close enough, right? Fifteen months.” Eddie said it like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Sat across from his therapist, he smiled bashfully at the mention of his achievement in sobriety. His therapist seemed incredibly excited and very proud of him, and if he was honest, she really was the only person he appreciated celebrating with him. Everyone else around him acknowledged it all the time, but they’d tiptoe around the subject, always scared to say the wrong thing. Eddie’s substance abuse had left a mark on them, and he’d worked hard to make things right, but he knew that there were people who’d forever be afraid that Eddie would relapse and become the worst version of himself again.

"That's fantastic, Eddie! Wow. Congratulations!"

His therapist was full on big smiles and there was no fear behind her eyes, and Eddie really appreciated it.

He hated seeing that fear. It would remind him of all the things he had done wrong in his life. Of everything that lead him to where he was now, which was a good place, anyone would agree. But too often, something or someone would hold up a mirror and show Eddie this is what you did, what you were like, what you said to me and it hurt.

If Eddie was honest, which, through a lot of therapy, he learned he really owed to himself, he’d been slowly spiraling down ever since Corroded Coffin got signed and he got a free ticket out of Hawkins. But what really accelerated him into the deepest pits of hell was that one night where you asked Eddie to ruin it all.

And he did ruin it all. Because you had asked him to, and he had obliged.

You hadn’t known how to react when yet another headline graced a newspaper, or when Eddie’s drunk angry face was plastered on the cover of another magazine, or when your boss would make another comment on what appeared to be reckless rockstar behavior from Eddie that made the press.

“Did I do this?” you asked, turning a page with a trembling hand as your cheek and shoulder worked hard to keep the phone at your ear.

“Absolutely not. Eddie is one hundred per cent doing this himself,” Steve answered, looking at the same magazine spread of unflattering paparazzi pictures.

“But do I… do I call someone? I can’t watch– what if he does something really stupid, Steve? What if…” you didn’t want to finish your sentence and heard Steve sigh on the other end of the line.

“I’ve reached out so many times, trust me. To his band members, to his management– even to Wayne, but it’s all– they’re all very… there’s nothing anyone can do,”

“So we’re just going to watch him crash and burn?” the picture in front of you of Eddie throwing an empty whiskey bottle at the windscreen of a random car should’ve never been taken and should’ve never been printed, you thought. The people around him were either eager photographers, trying to catch Eddie’s downfall in real time, or bystanders laughing. Big ugly smiles on big ugly faces, not an ounce of empathy for Eddie Munson who very clearly wasn’t doing okay.

The fucking tabloids could die, for all you cared.

“We’re not.” Steve answered, and for a second you hoped he’d have a plan. Some way to reach Eddie without facing the risk of pulling the two of you into it with him.

“We’re not going to watch him.” Steve then said, and you slumped your shoulders and let your head fall as you took hold of the phone with your hand. Simply ignoring Eddie as he dug his own grave wasn’t really going to help your anxiety at all.

“He’ll come to his senses,” Steve said, not even really convincing himself, but trying his best anyway. “Eventually.”

“I just wish there was something we could do,” the guilt you’d felt pool at the pit of your stomach into this black puddle of tar felt too sticky for you to ignore.

“It’s probably not as bad as it looks, you know what these magazines are like,” Steve tried, and you knew he was probably at least a little bit right.

“Hey,” Steve said after you failed to say anything, but just stared at the images of Eddie in front of you. “Don’t let it ruin your day, all right?” Like it hadn’t already ruined every single one since Eddie started calling you at the most awful hours and leave lengthy voicemail messages in a sloppy voice. You were barely able to make out anything he said at all, but you could always sense the anger and if the message went on long enough, his absolute helplessness. The obvious vulnerability. His weakness. They were all the things you felt constrict within your own chest as you’d listen to the messages in the morning.

Eddie never called. Never used to call. Now, he did it all the time. But you never called back.

Well, you did once but were greeted by the very kind voice of someone at the front desk of the hotel Eddie had stayed at that night, and you knew it’d be no use to ask for Eddie. He’d either have checked in under another name to hide his identity, or he'd have left already. You almost thought he did it on purpose; Eddie only ever reached out to you when he knew you’d either be at work, or asleep, and never gave you a chance to catch him when you’d return the call.

And so, you’d just listen.

You’d listen, and then you’d save every single message to listen to again later, because that’s the kind of person you were. You’d listen to them whenever you needed a good cry, because it always worked. And sometimes, you listened to them for other reasons. Stupid reasons, like, when you wanted to make yourself feel awful about yourself. You know, normal girly things. That was until Steve visited, and you let him hear. He had instantly deleted all of them from your machine.

Steve was angry with Eddie on a whole ‘nother level which he thought he hid well from you. He didn’t. You knew. But you never talked about it together because it would just be painful, and none of it would help. You both missed Eddie – not this Eddie, but Eddie Eddie – and the fact that it was hard to escape him made it all the more difficult.

It had all come ahead when, almost a full year after Eddie had last properly seen you, Robin’s doorbell rang at a quarter past midnight, followed by loud sloppy banging against her door. Panicked and confused at who the hell would be so loud that late, Robin was so ready to get angry at a tipsy, giggly Steve, but when she unlocked her door, saw someone she hadn’t been expecting.

Eddie Munson.

He looked closer to death than he’d ever looked before, and if Robin was honest, smelled closer to it too. He seemed unable to fully open his eyes, and when he looked at Robin for a second, she saw he also couldn’t keep his eyes still. They twirled and crossed over, and if the swaying on his legs didn’t give away how drunk he was, his eyes certainly sold the deal.

“Eddie?” Robin checked behind him, but he was alone. “Aren’t you… didn’t you have a show in Chicago tonight?” Robin knew because one of her cousins who lived in the windy city had been so excited to see Corroded Coffin live. Had called her specifically to tell her, because she knew Robin used to go to high school with Eddie. A car ride from Chicago would’ve taken nearly five hours. How the fuck was Eddie here right now?

“Ishehere?” Eddie drawled, the words barely making it out of him.

Eddie pushed Robin out of the way roughly and walked into the hallway with feet that were somehow too heavy to lift and simultaneously unable to easily find the floor again. Eddie had to use both his hands on either side of him to find balance on whatever he could grab onto.

Mentally, Robin tried to piece the situation together in order to make sense of it. If Eddie was here, there was no chance the concert had happened that night. He was definitely under the influence, maybe of more than just alcohol, and Robin feared that he’d left Chicago without anyone knowing. Left the band, left the fans – left a full venue of people waiting for him to come up on stage and play some fan favorites and some newer songs. Just, left.

Oh man. Eddie was in trouble.

In his current state he obviously couldn’t have gone to see Wayne, Robin couldn’t even imagine how Wayne would react to the man she saw stumble into her home. He also couldn’t have gone to see Steve either – Eddie probably knew that there were a lot of judgmental words waiting for him, a full lecture of phrases and terms that he’d have to wade through before he’d even catch sight of a couch to sleep on.

“You walked right past me,” Robin said somewhat sarcastically to Eddie’s question as she closed her front door, accepting that Eddie was in her house now and was probably going to stay the night.

“Where are you hiding her?” Eddie raised his voice and loudly slammed the door to Robin’s hallway closet and suddenly, Robin was scared. Eddie was aggressive, and she was alone.

“I’m here!” Robin hissed, nervous, but loudly, making Eddie turn his head to give her a quick glance before turning and tripping over his own feet into her living room. Robin followed him and got to see him plummet face first onto her couch. She watched him squirm around a little bit, take his shoes off with little care, mumbling to himself as he threw them across the room. Robin wondered where all of his stuff was. Had he traveled here with nothing? Should she call someone? Let them know Eddie was with her, and not face down passed out in a ditch somewhere?

Amongst the incomprehensible rambles Eddie was slurring into one of Robin’s throw pillows, she made out some words he grumbled, “You always leave– … where are you now– … you fucking left– ... bitch won’t ever answer– … I didn’t do this, you– ... You–”

Suddenly Eddie looked up and locked eyes with Robin.

“You!”

“No,” Robin answered, surprisingly calm for her doing. She was still sort of jittery and definitely nervous, but also determined that whatever Eddie was struggling with, he wasn’t about to take any of it out on her.

“No, not me. I’m going to get you a blanket and a tall glass of water– a bucket. A bucket maybe, yes, because you seem like you’ve had a lot to drink, and I don’t want you ruining my rug. My mother got me that rug, she’d kill me if anything were to happen to it.” Robin rambled as her feet hurriedly carried her in small steps around her home, collecting the items she mentioned. “You see, sometimes people care about their things, their bodies, their lives, and they don’t feel the need to absolutely ruin everything all of the time,” she continued, and it was all too fast paced, too much, too sober for Eddie to follow or to respond to. “They don’t get drunk and travel for hours just to ring someone’s doorbell after midnight, scaring the living daylight out of them because, what if something happened to someone? Why else would someone come a-knocking? They don’t do that Eddie. They don’t.”

It seemed like Eddie had passed out.

“Please don’t die on my couch,” Robin finished, placing down a glass of water on her coffee table. “We can talk in the morning.”

Robin made sure to lock her front door and hide the keys, so Eddie had no chance of sneaking out and endangering himself more than he already had done before disappearing into her bedroom. The click of her bedroom door followed by the sudden absence of noise made Eddie lift his head up slightly, and he noticed only then that Robin had left him alone.

“Hey!” she heard Eddie call for her, the anger in his voice unmistakable.

“Robin!” she kept quiet, squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. No. She’d talk to him in the morning.

In a bid to get her attention, Eddie flung an arm out, knocking over the glass of water, and whether he intended it or not, it smashed onto the floor, breaking into vicious shards that imprisoned Eddie to the couch.

Robin heard.

Paused.

No.

She’d talk to him in the morning.

The next morning Eddie woke up to Robin talking to someone on the phone. She was trying to be quiet, but Robin was on edge and anxiety had taken over her system. She hissed down the phone and Eddie caught every word.

"Emergency. Code red. You have to come help me right now." "Guess who showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night?" "He’s on my couch, covered in vomit." "Of course he's still alive." "No, please, you have to come, I don’t know what to do," "It smells so bad, please, Steve, I can’t do this on my own, he’s your friend," "What do I do in the meantime?" "Okay. Please, hurry."

Eddie groaned. Everything hurt. It felt like the full front of his body was bruised. Head pounding. Taste of death in his mouth. Smell of butyric acid so thick in the air, it almost made Eddie retch again. He moved to sit up, but Robin was eyeing him like a hawk, sat up in a squat on an armchair and was quick to stop him.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

Eddie didn’t need telling twice and let himself fall back, relaxing into the couch again.

“There’s glass and throw up everywhere. You’re not moving an inch ‘til Steve gets here.”

Robin stayed put, kept her eyes on him and monitored every single chest raise and face grimace of the man splayed out on her couch. A man she only really knew because she'd grown close with Steve when they became coworkers, but had never really hung out with by herself. Mumbling under her breath, angry that Eddie had gotten vomit so close to her rug, Robin kept her distance because, God, smelling vomit first thing in the morning really was a sure fire way to get sick yourself if you weren't careful.

It took Steve and Robin 40 minutes to get Eddie situated at the dining table in some of Steve's clothes, freshly showered, with a glass of water and a bowl of cereal in front of him. Robin was doing her best to carefully pick up glass from her living room floor next to the couch. Steve was sat next to Eddie, both arms stretched, hands holding his knees, one leg bouncing and brows furrowed down deep. Steve was waiting for Eddie to talk. To explain. To apologize.

Eddie sighed, clearly still nauseous, and pushed the bowl of cereal away.

Steve didn't hesitate to push it right back to where it was.

"I'm not hungry, man,"

"I don't care,"

Eddie sighed again, now reaching for the spoon and moving it around a bit.

The only noise that filled the room was from pieces of glass Robin collected on the coffee table. The tension could be cut with a butter knife until Steve groaned loudly in frustration and got up from his seat.

"What are you doing, Eddie? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve yelled, and it made Eddie wince. His head was throbbing still, and loud noises hurt. Steve quickly sat down again and scooted closer to Eddie, really got in his face, made sure that whatever he was going to say next, he could see Eddie's reaction.

"Fuck you, man."

Eddie kept his gaze at the bowl of cereal in front of him, but Steve saw his jaw clench.

"Seriously?! Mindful? This is mindful to you? I don't– You can't– ... You've got to stop calling her. I'm being serious, stop with the intoxicated phone calls."

Robin stopped what she was doing and looked at them from her crouched position next to her couch. This wasn't a conversation she could pretend to not listen to whilst she was doing a dangerous task.

"Telling her that she's the one that ran away – Eddie, you left. You left and then you started coming and going as you pleased, in and out of Hawkins, in and out of our lives – her life."

Eddie let out a breath he'd been holding in, rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Steve.

Wrong move, Robin thought.

"You left. You bailed. You ran, you mother fucker," Steve got up abruptly, nearly making his chair fall backwards and for good measure, Steve kicked it in frustration making Eddie flinch.

"Steve," Robin tried in a bid to calm him down.

Steve took a few steps, hands up in his hair, breathing heavily as he looked at Eddie's tensed back.

"And now you're, what? Drinking yourself into the grave? Who is that meant to hurt? Just her? Because it's not." Steve lied. "You're only hurting yourself." Another lie, encased in truth, followed by silence. Robin was scared to breathe as she watched Eddie who honestly looked like he was still drunk, not far removed from throwing up again.

"Why could you not..." Steve sighed, "Why couldn't you just be with her?"

"I was!" Eddie suddenly exclaimed and turned to look Steve in the eye. "I was with her! When I was here, I was with her."

"Cut the bullshit, asshole," Steve looked at him through narrowed eyes. "We all know that's not what I meant."

Eddie turned to look at Robin, who was quick to hold up both her hands, showing her palms as if to say, don't ask me. Then he turned back to look at Steve again, and he felt the built up anger dissipate when all he could see in his friend's face was worry and pain. Clenching his jaw, Eddie's eyes found the bowl of cereal in front of him again and he kept them there as he heard Steve sit down next to him again.

"I'm not going to pretend that whatever you're doing to yourself isn't complete self-destruction because you know, Eddie. You know what you did and you know what you had and now you know what you lost now that she finally, fucking finally, ended it."

If Steve wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw the first little rips in Eddie's hard demeanor. A couple little cracks, and Steve hoped they'd grow deeper so he could get in there properly. Worm his way in, and then drag his friend out of there.

"She moved on, and you can't handle that, and now look at what you're doing to yourself..."

"Eddie," Robin suddenly spoke from the other side of the room, making him look up a second. Her voice sounded soft and kind, and the look in her eyes reflected her words.

"You scared me last night..."

Eddie didn't need to hear more. This was enough for tears to spring into his eyes. He turned away to at least somewhat hide it, but the loud sniff that followed gave away that he was crying. Steve placed a strong, but caring hand on his shoulder, and Eddie immediately grabbed it. Held onto it. White-knuckled it until it hurt him.

"Enough with the shit excuses, all right? When's the last time you've seen Wayne?"

Eddie hugged Steve, and Eddie hugged Robin. Uttered the words "I'm sorry," about a million times through tears he felt guilty for crying. Robin was quick to tell him he didn't need to apologize to her, but Steve didn't react to the words at all, felt like he should at least say them two million more times and really mean all of them for Steve to accept them.

Eddie let Steve drive him over to Wayne's.

Wayne took Eddie straight to rehab.

When you got off the phone with Steve, you were crying. It was a weird mix of relief, happy tears, honest joyous thoughts because Eddie would be taken care of now, but you also felt so much pain for him. Rehab? That meant it was really serious. That it was really real. But he was getting help now, which was definitely good news, but you just wished it had never ever gotten to this point.

Starting you shift down at the bar, you couldn't really stop thinking about it. Your boss made a small comment, asked what was on your mind, because you seemed a little out of it, so you'd vaguely told him you'd gotten some news. Ultimately okay news, good news, but, food for thought anyway. Your boss' reaction had been that you were lucky it was Wednesday and it probably wouldn't get really busy.

And your boss had been right.

The bar only really saw regulars that day, all sat at barstools with elbows perched up onto the shiny varnished wood while the rest of the place remained empty. These guys made your job easy. You knew what all of them were drinking – beer, and beer, and then later, likely more beer – and you would have the next drink ready for them before they could even ask. They would all tip extra too if you smiled and engaged in kind conversation with them. Which you did.

Then, a stranger walked in, and he instantly caught everyone's attention. If the light, acid washed, tight jeans and the white, impeccable, tightly laced-up tennis shoes were anything to go by, this guy was lost with a capital L. Maybe, probably, there just to use the restrooms.

"That kid lost?" one of the older guys sat at the bar must have read your mind, making the two men next to him snigger softly.

You made eye contact as he sat down at the far end of the bar and smiled. "Can I get you anything?"

He honestly looked a bit like Steve, if you were honest. Polo shirt and all. Disney looking dude. Hair all sun-kissed, high lighted by the summer. The least intimidating man in there by far. And pretty. Shit, this guy was really pretty. You saw him look around and check what everyone else was drinking.

"Jack and coke?" he asked, almost like he wanted your permission for getting anything other than just a beer. "Sure, coming right up," you grinned and got started on it. You saw your boss making eyes at one of the regulars, and they were clearly making fun a little. But when you checked to see if your new customer could tell that he was being taunted for sticking out like a sore thumb, you saw him mouth along to the song being played. You turned back to look at your boss, eyebrows raised high as if to say, oh, maybe he's not so lost?

You finished mixing his drink and were about to place it down in front of him when he held out his hand to take it from you. Handing it over, his fingers brushed yours, and then you held eye contact for much longer than would be considered normal.

"Thank you," he smiled sweetly, and you couldn't help but blush. His eyes were really captivating. Big brown orbs, surrounded by beautiful long lashes. Killer smile, too.

"You're welcome," what had you all shy all of a sudden? Was it the freckles?

He reached his other hand over the bar and held it out to you.

"I'm Matt,"

You stared at it for a second, heard your boss very clearly suppress a laugh behind you, and then decided to shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Matt."

Matt then looked over your shoulder at everyone behind you and raised his glass in cheers to all the other men. You turned around and were surprised to see all of them raising their glasses in return just before you caught your boss trying to hide his smirk from you.

Interesting, you thought. This could definitely get interesting.

“So, you mentioned next weekend is big… what’s happening?” Eddie’s therapist scooted forwards in her chair and clicked the pen in her hand as it hovered over a notebook she’d scribble in from time to time.

“A wedding.” Eddie answered in a held breath, chest puffed out, holding it there for a second. “Old friends from Hawkins invited me to their wedding on Saturday, at Laurel Hall in Indianapolis, which is this beautiful mansion, used to be a school way back when…” Eddie had gotten into the habit of just saying whatever he thought, saving his therapist the trouble of asking for details. “They’ve been together since high school. High school sweethearts, what a dream, right? I guess everyone’s going to be there, old classmates, friends – I’ve been given a plus one too, which they didn’t need to do, but is still kind of them,”

“Who are getting married?”

“Nancy and Jonathan,” Eddie answered, rubbing sweaty palms over his jeans. They were names of people he didn’t think he had ever mentioned before, so he felt the need to clarify. “Jonathan is Will’s older brother, and Nancy is Mike’s older sister, and Mike and I used to be–” Eddie started, but his therapist stopped him as he clicked her fingers in recognition. “Hellfire Club.” She stated, and Eddie smiled. “Yea,” he let a short silence fall in which he collected thoughts.

“Nancy and Steve also dated for a couple of months when they were 15… maybe 16, and Will and Mike are best friends too, so, there’s a lot of… we’re intertwined in a lot of different ways,” Eddie waved his hands over each other a few times to illustrated the intertwining of all of them.

"I guess that's what happens in small towns, huh?"

"You're nervous. Why are you nervous?" she saw right through him.

"Well... it's a wedding. People will be drinking." Eddie sighed deeply, then frowned as he stared into nothing for a second.

"Will your ex-girlfriend be there too, if you don't mind me asking?"

Ex-girlfriend.

Eddie's eyes shot up to look his therapist in the eye.

Ex-girlfriend.

They made Eddie talk a lot in rehab. Group therapy sessions. Individual therapy sessions. And Eddie had never really talked about anything that really bothered him before, so it was real difficult at first. He felt he wasn't meant to feel bad about anything, because was he not living the dream? Was this life not everything he had been wishing for? Everything he'd ever dreamed of ever since getting his very own first guitar?

Eddie was meant to explode with joy. Be the happiest man alive. Instead, however, Eddie felt like he was drowning constantly, and felt overwhelming guilt for it too.

Eddie had to explain all of it. Make everyone understand as he made sense of it himself. When he had to explain to people who hadn't been around your friendship, hadn't known what the two of you were like, what you'd always been like together, he tried to find the right words to make everyone understand. And then, there only seemed to be one right word for it.

Ex-girlfriend.

You totally were his ex-girlfriend.

It was an awful moment of realization that kept him up at night for weeks because, you were his ex-girlfriend now. Ex. You had totally dated each other. For years. You'd been his girlfriend and he'd been your boyfriend. An awful one, too, but a boyfriend none the less. It had been the real deal. Eddie had been so in love and recognized that you'd been too. Maybe even more so. How had he never known? Never seen it? Never been able to face it? How did he, only now that it was over, learn that that was what it was? Eddie never even knew it was something he could lose, because it never earned its label. It never got named, and so it never gained any strength. Now that it was gone, over, past the point of repair, Eddie suddenly gave it strength, gave it meaning, gave it power by naming it what it really had been and it was heart shattering.

"I think so," Eddie said to his therapist, nodding slowly. "Yea, she must be."

And Eddie was right. The first person he laid eyes on when he walked into Laurel Hall on Saturday May 4th at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, was you. You were up near the front, already seated for the ceremony, and Eddie decided to hang back because that felt a little safer. He sat next to what he assumed were some distant relatives, and gave himself the time to see which way the wind was blowing.

The ceremony was beautiful. Jonathan and Nancy looked stunning, and Eddie really tried to follow along, to listen to the vows, to smile when he was supposed to, and to clap when he was supposed to. But with everyone, Robin, Steve, Dustin, Mike, people's parents – oh my God old friends and their judgmental parents, Eddie had completely forgotten about the parents – but mostly, with you in the room, paying attention seemed an impossible task.

Halfway through the ceremony Eddie doubted if he should've even come at all, and he thought of slipping out unseen. His palms were so sweaty, they were leaving wet patches in his trousers, and his legs wouldn't stop bouncing. But when he looked around to see if no one would actually notice, he locked eyes with Dustin who gave the most excited smile Eddie thought he'd ever seen on him, and so he stayed.

At the reception, Eddie was welcomed by someone holding a huge tray of champagne flutes at the bottom of the stairs and he figured he'd do the polite thing and take one. He'd secretly discard it somewhere on a mantel later, he thought. When he saw you in the crowd, talking to some other people he knew, he decided to grab two flutes. You were empty handed, he had two drinks – one plus one equalled two. It could've been the perfect way to step into your group. The perfect opening to talk to you. The perfect way to– ...oh no.

Someone else handed you a drink.

And you leant in.

And you kissed them?

Let them place a hand on your lower back?

You smiled?

Seemed very happy?

"Eddie!"

Dustin frantically waved him over, and Eddie was visibly relieved for the out he was given. Swerving off the path that lead directly to you, he walked over to where Dustin was stood with Will, Lucas and Max. Eddie said his hellos, and they all politely smiled at him, gave him the exact looks with the exact eyes that he'd feared he'd get from everyone that day. Somewhat fearful, definitely awkward, a little scared to say the wrong thing, and far too focussed on the huge elephant in the room that took up almost every square inch from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling. It only left the smallest bit of wiggle room to squeeze in some polite small talk.

Except, Dustin wasn't about that small talk life. At all.

"Yep, I'll take these, thank you very much," Dustin said, reaching for both of the glasses Eddie was holding and downed them immediately. Eddie gave him a look, and Dustin stared right back. "Surprise, I'm not 14 anymore, I'm overage now, shithead," he deadpanned, and Eddie was stunned into laughter. "Are you?" Will squinted at Dustin after some quick mental math, but Dustin just shrugged and said, "Close enough, anyway."

They managed to converse on a somewhat normal level in their little group. Eddie was a little fidgety, but Dustin was just being his regular old self, always teetering between innocent excitement and nonjudgmental acceptance, which was exactly what Eddie needed. Good old helpful little nerdy Dustin. What a dude, what a savior. The group grew slightly awkward again when Mike joined them, brother of the bride, but it only took seconds for Eddie to lock his elbow around Mike's neck. Mike said something so stupid about how Will and Mike were brothers now, it made everyone groan, so obviously, it was headlock-time.

Their laughter was loud, young boys having fun, but it felt misplaced because they were all in fancy suits in a very fancy solarium, and were definitely drawing attention to themselves for it. Dustin tried stepping in to save his friend, but Eddie had two arms, had he not? Lucas tried to warn him, but it was to no avail and Eddie had them both now. "No wedgies, no wedgies!" Dustin called out before wedgies had even crossed Eddie's mind. People who didn't know them were frowning, no doubt wanting to tell them off, boys you're at a wedding reception, behave yourselves!

You observed them calmly over the rim of your glass as you happily sipped the champagne that your boyfriend had handed you earlier, and you hid a smile. "They're such babies," you heard Robin mutter next to you, followed by "Oh my God, that's him! That's Eddie Munson!" from your very excited boyfriend, Matt. "Come on, I'll introduce you," Steve quipped and nodded for Matt to follow him. "Don't ask him to sign anything, or tonight is going to be so weird," you heard Steve say as they walked off together.

Yeah.

Tonight was definitely going to be weird.

You knew Eddie hadn't seen you look. You'd clocked him immediately. Had seen him sit down in the back during the ceremony. Tried to keep your attention with Nancy and Jonathan, smiled at Matt when he squeezed your thigh at the vows, hugged his arm as he teared up when Jonathan spoke. But Eddie was in the back, and you could almost feel his eye bore into you, so your legs had bounced wildly the entire time and your mind hadn't wavered from him for a single second.

Watching Matt be his giddy, excited, puppy-dog self as Steve introduced him was almost too much to witness. Matt was a huge Corroded Coffin fan, even if he didn't look it, and you'd told him about how you used to be real close friends with Eddie. You had never let on what that friendship entailed. What that friendship had looked like to others. What that friendship had meant to you. Matt just thought it was really cool and couldn't wait to one day maybe meet him.

Which was right now, and you realized you were entirely unprepared.

Robin understood what a bizarre position you'd been placed in, and stood beside you as you both looked at the three of them from afar. You thought it was nice that you were out of earshot, you didn't need to hear Steve ask Eddie to ask Matt what his favourite band was. It was also nice to see that Steve and Eddie were on good terms. They smiled at each other, and had hugged in greeting. You knew they'd seen each other a few times after Eddie had gotten out of rehab. Steve had also actually replied to the letter they had made Eddie write in there, which you hadn't done. You had read the one he wrote you, memorized huge chunks of it even, but had never picked up a pen to write a reply. It had kind of kept the door between the two of you dead-bolted shut, and Eddie hadn't dared knocking it for fear you'd find another lock to turn the key on.

"This is weird," Robin muttered, only loud enough for you to hear.

"So weird," you agreed. You saw how Eddie kept biting his lips and knew that he was nervous. Eddie Munson, nervous to talk to your Disney boyfriend. What a wild thing to be staring at.

"Matt and Steve are practically wearing the same outfit," Robin followed up, and you realized that she was talking about something entirely different from you. But, shit, she was right. It wasn't the exact same outfit, but if you squinted hard enough, you could easily confuse one for the other.

When you saw Matt turn to look at you, point his finger for Eddie to follow its line, you waved. And then you smiled. You were a grown up. An adult, God damn it. You could wave at someone and be normal, surely.

Before Eddie could wave back, you saw how they were being asked to step into the formal dining room as dinner was about to be served. People started moving, all ready to find their seats at the other end of the mansion, but Eddie didn't follow them. Instead, he slowly make his way over to you, and then, suddenly, it was just you and Eddie in the solarium still.

"Hey," with both hands in his pockets, Eddie twisted on his foot and used the other to tap your shin as a greeting. It was awkward, but cute.

"Hey," you returned the same gesture, but you were in heels, and you almost lost your balance. Eddie's hands reflexively reached out, but were quickly pulled back as you steadied yourself on your own. You blushed at your own clumsiness and Eddie scratched the back of his neck, entirely unsure of how to approach this chat with you.

Then you both chuckled. You chuckled at yourselves, at each other, at this outrageous situation you found yourselves in - all of it too stupid not to laugh at.

"You met Matt," you said, gesturing vaguely at the spot where they'd been stood seconds earlier.

"I did. Nice um... yeah, he's a nice guy," you could hear hesitation in his voice, and you squinted at him through a small smile. Eddie exuded the same vibes you'd felt in the bar when Matt had first walked in.

"Matty," Eddie said, and you could tell he was making fun a little. You let him, knowing how Matt could come off. Especially since he was an actual real life fan of Eddie. First impressions didn't really mean anything when it came to Matt. You knew.

"Eddie," you replied, returning his own facial expression and tone to him, and it made the both of you laugh softly.

"You look really good," Eddie suddenly complimented, looking you up and down, eyes gliding over your plum dress, and your chest ached with the way he said it.

"So do you," it was the polite thing to say, but you also absolutely meant it. Eddie looked fucking great.

A small silence lingered, and you were about to say that you should probably also make your way over to find your seat, but Eddie stopped you.

"Can we," Eddie stepped closer and let fingers wrap around your arm. "Can we meet, later? Another time, I mean. Another place. Like, next week, maybe?"

You looked at Eddie's hand as he touched you, felt sparks, before you looked up at him again, and you were met with big emotional eyes that couldn't look more apologetic if they tried.

You smiled warmly. "I'll think about it."

You knew it wasn't the answer Eddie wanted to hear, but he accepted it, nodded, let you go, and watched as you stepped away and went to find your seat next to Matt for dinner. You kind of liked the position of power you suddenly found yourself in with Eddie, and thought to yourself that you wanted to hold onto that for a little while longer. Could be, dared you think it, fun.

Dinner took its sweet time, and you grew a little bored. Speeches were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches. When you saw Jim Hopper wipe thick tears from his cheeks, you turned to Steve to point it out. Steve looked, but then turned back to you and pointed at your boyfriend. Matt was crying too, and there was no possible way for him to even understand any of the references in any of the speeches. "Weddings just get me," he'd said earlier when he cried at the ceremony too, and you thought it was cute then. Now, it was becoming a bit much. You rolled your eyes at Steve, who silently laughed before you decided to down your glass of wine and immediately asked for another from a passing waiter.

After dinner, the party moved back to the rest of the ground floor. There was the grand lobby by the staircase, where people could sit on big old chesterfield couches and in old leather armchairs. Then there was the solarium that had its marble tiles turned into a dance floor. Lastly, there was the terrace, lit with beautiful patio lights strung across, where people could sit and chat at larger and smaller tables.

Jonathan and Nancy had their first dance, and it was very romantic. Made you swoon a little, looking at the eyes they made at each other. Perfect fucking couple. Behind them, you'd seen Eddie slip outside. For a smoke, you were sure. You weren't going to follow him. You were a grown up. An adult. You were no longer hung up on Eddie, and you made your own choices. Your next choice, you decided, was to drag your boyfriend onto the dance floor with you, even though, and he'd been very adamant about this, Matt didn't dance.

"Steve, my man," Matt slapped a hard hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Do me a solid," he gestured to you as you were tipsily trying your best to reel Matt in with your imaginary fishing rod. "I don't dance."

Steve furrowed his brow, pretended to unhook Matt from your wire, and placed the imaginary hook onto his own collar. Ten seconds later, you were both stood on the dance floor, in dancing position, holding onto each other, just like everyone else was.

You mused together about how you were grown ups now. Real adults. With adult lives, and adult responsibilities. People your age were getting married now, having kids, had steady jobs, careers even and had fucking mortgages. It was such a trip if you thought about it for too long, and were glad to learn that Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

"We're grown ups who make sensible choices now," you almost said it like it was dirty.

"We're grown ups who know when to stop drinking," Steve said, giving you a look. You had definitely nearly tripped over your own feet a few times already.

"Ouch, don't let Eddie hear," you joked and, sure, maybe it was too soon for jokes like that, but you'd said it now anyway and it made Steve turn to check if Eddie hadn't accidentally heard you.

"We're grown ups who use our indoor voices," Steve pointedly said, visibly relieved Eddie hadn't been near you to have heard that.

"We're grown ups who decide for themselves how loud they want to speak," you were practically screaming over the music, and it had the two of you giggling into each other as you danced.

Dancing with Steve was fun. He sort of knew what he was doing and would hold you tightly when he did a spin. You'd seen Joyce smile and point you out to someone and knew it was solely because of the way Steve was moving you across the floor.

That was, until you were interrupted.

"Mind if I cut in?" Eddie suddenly appeared beside you, clasping a hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Of course, but be careful with him, Steve's got two left feet," you joked, and pretended to step back to let Eddie dance with Steve.

"Idiot," Steve laughed and pulled you into a hug, whispered "grown ups!", in your ear and then smiled at Eddie as he passed your hand into his.

"Oh my God," you feigned nervousness as you let Eddie pull you close, one hand on the small of you back, the other holding your hand, just like every single other couple on the dance floor.

"I'm dancing with Eddie Munson," you said sarcastically, copying Matt's tone from earlier, squealing like an excited fan, smiling hard enough to make your eyes squint.

He furrowed his brows to appear offended, hurt even, but it was futile. The smile on Eddie's face was there to stay.

"You've clearly had a few, I see," Eddie noted, and if Eddie was trying to make you feel guilty over it, it wasn't working. You were totally allowed to drink, and weren't going to let Eddie - Eddie, who was responsible for the most difficult years of your life - guilt-trip you for it.

So, you just smiled. And nodded. Because yes, you had had a few. Eddie returned your smile and for a couple of seconds, you just danced and smiled at each other.

"You really do look nice," you said, noticing the blush in Eddie's cheeks that kind of matched your dress, funnily enough.

"Oh my God, stop flirting, people will assume things," Eddie joked in a hushed tone of voice, eyes darting across the room in a fake panic as you looked up at him.

"The people here? I think we both have years of convincing them they shouldn't be assuming shit under our belts, do we not?"

You were definitely flirting, and it felt terrific to feel like you had the upper hand over Eddie this time around. It was such a welcome shift you hadn't anticipated wanting to delve into so badly, but with plenty of others on the dance floor and no possible threat of Matt stepping in, you kind of just went with it. It was fun.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but," Eddie spun you before pulling you back into his chest. Not as smoothly as Steve would've done it, but still nice. "I don't think we ever really managed to properly convince anyone," Eddie grimaced, as if it was the worst news he could've ever broken to you.

You smiled at your feet before whipping you head back up to look at him. With Eddie smiling down at you like that, it seemed like Eddie appreciated you trying to keep the ball in your court. Tonight, Eddie could just look at you as you played with it. He could eagerly wish for you to toss it over the net, which you weren't planning on doing willingly, though you never ruled out the option of the ball slipping from your hands momentarily. Eddie might not have been drinking, but you definitely were. Maybe the ball would accidentally bounce over to him every once in a while, and those moments could be tests - you wanted to see if Eddie would throw the ball back to you on his own accord. And he better. He still had shit to make up to you.

"I got your letter," you blurted out, immediately regretting bringing it up, but Eddie's smile didn't falter.

"Lot of big confessions," you almost sounded challenging in your tone, a playful smile tugging at your cheeks.

"Yeah," Eddie scrunched his face as he elongated the word and nodded, not embarrassed to have written them down, but embarrassed you were talking to him about his feelings now.

"You never wrote me back, though,"

"I didn't,"

Eddie looked at you questioningly, and you were quick to frown at him.

"Um, how does one reply to, 'I was always head over heels, over the moon, out of this universe, so God damn in love with you, and I didn't even fucking know it'... any suggestions?"

"Um, I don't know, thank you, maybe,"

You laughed heartily at him, and Eddie bent into you as he laughed too. When the laughing ceased, and you returned to crow-feeted smiles for one another, Eddie realised that you'd memorized that part of his letter, and you realised that you'd just given that away.

"I do love you too, you know, if that's what you wanted to hear,"

Eddie gasped a small breath.

"You do?"

You nodded and grimaced, almost as if to say, I don't know why either, joining him in his bit.

"I had no idea," Of course Eddie fucking knew.

"What a shocker, hey?"

"I can not believe it. I don't think our friendship can take blows like this."

The music switched from a slight mellow one into a real slow, romantic one. There was no getting out of having to sway slowly to the gentle tunes, and to be honest, you didn't mind at all.

You sighed deeply, then thought of Matt.

"It's too late, is all," you said, ignoring the fact that, actually, even if you had been single, you still probably wouldn't have just accepted Eddie back into your life as easily. Even just as a friend, it was going to be difficult going for him.

"I know,"

You saw Eddie glance over your shoulder, no doubt to look at Matt. When he kept his eyes trained in the same direction for too long, you turned to look and saw Steve look at the two of you. His expression read a little confused, but didn't really say much else. Not to you anyway - you didn't know what had been going on behind your back before you turned around.

"Then again... is it?" Eddie whispered in your ear and then looked at you as he stepped back, let go of you entirely and took three steps backwards before turning on his heel and leaving the dance floor, and then, the solarium entirely. Eddie left you standing there alone, and you turned to look at Steve.

Steve, who, with big eyes, immediately mouthed 'no!' at you.

But you just shrugged, looked at Steve like you kind of had no other choice as your feet started following Eddie's footsteps.

Steve waved his arms to beckon you as discreetly as he could, inaudibly telling you to 'stop', and to 'come here', followed by 'we're grown ups!' but then Matt suddenly popped up next to him, and Steve proved once again that he was the best fucking friend you couldn't even have ever dreamed of asking for. Steve grabbed Matt by the shoulders, gave him a big smile, and engaged into conversation immediately as he turned him around, facing away from you, leaving you every opportunity to slip out and find Eddie.

You found Eddie at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, which, thank fuck, was empty.

He held out his hand for you to grab, and when you did, wanted to leave through the main entrance, but you had a different idea.

"Upstairs,"

"Upstairs?"

"Upstairs."

You held onto Eddie's hand as you lead the way upstairs. Looking down the hallway from the landing, you saw a door that read 'Presidential Suite', and seconds later, you were stood in what was very obviously the bridal suite Jonathan and Nancy were going to be staying in that night. You were both staring at the four poster bed that was covered in rose petals.

"Maybe this isn't..." Eddie turned his head to look at you, and found you were already looking up at him.

"It definitely isn't..." you absolutely knew what he meant, but turned your body into him and snuck an arm into his jacket to curl around his waist.

Shit. You wanted Eddie. Sure, you'd been drinking, but not enough to be taken advantage of. You wanted Eddie, and you wanted him now.

"We might regret this," Eddie spoke softly, just above a whisper, but his nose was already nudging around yours. You couldn't manage a proper reply, but just let out a whimper that sounded enough like you agreed with him before you closed any distance left between the two of you and kissed him.

You kissed Eddie. Took hold of his face, pushed a hand into his hair, and you kissed him. Eddie wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly, but didn't move otherwise, and let you kiss him for however long you wanted.

Eddie could cry with how much he needed this, needed you, but didn't make any further moves. You'd been right earlier; the ball was in your court.

You hummed, moaned and panted into Eddie's mouth, let your tongue roam and teeth nibble and you loved every single second of it. You could kiss Eddie like this for hours, and you easily would have, but then, you felt his erection press up against you and suddenly, just kissing wasn't enough. With your mouth still on him, you moved a hand down to press a palm over him, and you felt him flinch. It broke your kiss, and you looked down at it.

Eddie did too.

You palmed him for a few seconds, unable to look away from it, heard how Eddie held his breath and then, you let out a shuddered breath of your own.

"Get on the bed."

Eddie didn't need telling twice. He crawled onto the bed, let himself flop against the pillows sat somewhat upright, and started undoing his pressed trousers as you got busy hiking up your dress at the foot of the bed. After sliding down your underwear and stepping out of them carefully, you climbed onto the bed and Eddie reached out with both arms to help you get on top of him.

Straddling Eddie, and with all lights in the room turned on, you got to look at Eddie's face crumble as you started moving, slowly writhing, sliding up and down. Eddie's hands were clasped onto your sides and both your hands made sure they stayed there. You cocked your head, like a puppy hearing a new sound it tried to figure out, and studied Eddie's face as his eyes rolled to the back of his head before he let his full head fall backwards against the curtained wall behind the pillows. Fascinating. A huge turn on. You couldn't help but dip down and kiss him, and Eddie immediately returned it, full forced, moaning and groaning as he did.

Eddie looked up at you when you broke away from him, and you felt his hands move, firm fingers now digging into your hips as you picked up your pace, and you swore you could see it in his eyes.

You won.

You deserved to win, and you’d won.

You were the focal point of Eddie’s whole world. Past, present, and future. The first and only choice. He’d follow you anywhere, he’d just proven it, just to be near you, to be with you.

You’d won, and you could feel it, looking into Eddie's eyes with your foreheads locked together. Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit your lip before you moaned, and it drove Eddie wild.

You were having devastatingly romantic sex in a bridal suite not meant for you, with a man not meant for you. But you were strong. Made your own decisions. Decided how close you were going to let Eddie get. Chose to fuck him all on your own accord. You'd deal with repercussions later, if there'd even be any, because maybe, you wouldn't allow there to be any. That's how powerful you felt, and you deserved it, Eddie thought so too.

You rode Eddie until your legs cramped, then let Eddie hold you steady as he rammed into you until you saw stars. You toyed with the idea of not letting Eddie get there, but then decided you wanted to feel every single muscle of him shudder underneath you, and so you kept it up until Eddie saw stars too.

A panting puddle of limbs on silk - now wet - sheets, you took a moment to catch your breaths. Let Eddie hold you close. Whisper sweet nothings into your hair. Words that could make you cry if they weren't laced in guilt and shame. You let Eddie do whatever he felt he needed to do, because you didn't mind him fighting for it. You let him, until the pauses between his words drew longer. You let him, until the blinks of his eyes grew slower. You let him, until he'd completely drifted off into blissful dreams of soft kisses, tender touches and sweet smiles.

"Eddie, what the fuck?!"

"What are you doing up here?"

"Get out of here!"

Eddie was rudely awoken by the shrill voice of Nancy, and the very confused voice of Jonathan just a couple hours after he'd fallen asleep in their bed. They'd walked in on him with his dick in his boxers, thank God, but his trousers halfway down his legs still.

"What the..." is all Eddie managed to say in a groggy voice as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Eddie! Get out!" Nancy wasn't going to give him time to adjust and hit him with her bouquet of flowers that she was meant to keep safe, making Eddie roll away from her.

"What's this?" he heard Jonathan on the other side of the bed and saw him pick up a note from a pillow.

Eddie was quick to snatch it from him as he rolled off the bed and was chased into the hallway by Nancy, trying to pull his trousers up as he did.

She slammed the door loudly, making Eddie wince at the echoing sound. He did up his zipper and closed the button before turning his attention to the now crumpled up note in his hand. Eddie rubbed his face and blinked his eyes into focus more, turned the note so the words were no longer upside down. As he read the words you'd left him with, a grin slowly took over his face.

'Sure. Next week. Coffee. x'

It could mean nothing, Eddie knew. It could absolutely totally have zero meaning. But, then again, if Eddie dared let his mind wonder, it held every potential to mean everything.

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Read the final installment: Never Over

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munsons fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x y/n #stranger things 4 #joe quinn #joseph quinn #over now #only now #then again

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diceriadelluntore · 2 months ago

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Storia Di Musica #345 - Buzzcocks, Spiral Scratch, 1977

L'Extended Play ha avuto un momento di grande successo durante la stagione del punk. Nell'era d'oro del movimento (1976-1980) la facilità e i minori costi di produzione resero il formato piuttosto amato dalle giovani band punk, che così, in pieno stilema del movimento, potevamo mettere sul banco quel poco che erano capaci di suonare all'inizio: lo spirito ultimo del punk era, soprattutto all'inizio, la ribellione (fittizia a volte, ma è un altro discorso) ai canoni del musicista preparato, per virare in una sorta di spontanea espressione personale, a volte al limite del dilettantismo (principio che se allora poteva apparire rivoluzionario, ai giorni nostri ha tutt'altro significato). La storia musicale di oggi riguarda una band che non solo esordì con un Ep, ma, cosa davvero storica, fu la prima ad autoprodurselo, dando il via alla strada delle etichette indipendenti in Gran Bretagna.

Tutto nasce nel 1975 quando due ragazzi di Bolton, vicino Manchester, Peter McNeish e Howard Trafford, appassionati di musica, decidono che vogliono fondare una band. Si cambiano il nome in Pete Shelley e Howard Devoto, Shelley suona la chitarra e canta, Devoto canta soltanto, e chiedono in giro chi vorrebbe unirsi a loro. Hanno un accordo con un batterista, e leggendo sul New Musical Express che i Sex Pistols stanno iniziando un Tour in Inghilterra vanno a Londra per incontrare la band. Prendono accordi con il manager Malcom McLaren per aprire la data di Manchester, ma malauguratamente tutti i batteristi che contattano sono indisponibili. Ci riescono alla seconda data, nel luglio del 1976, quando vennero reclutati il bassista Steve Diggle e il batterista John Maher, e la loro esibizione d'apertura è possibile rivederla in un documentario su quel primo tour dei Sex Pistols, nel documentario Punk: Attitude diretto da Don Letts.

Quella sera si presentarono al pubblico con un nome decisamente punk: Buzzcocks, che è un misto tra il nome dialettale di quelle zone per chiamare i ragazzi (cocks) e una battuta di un celebre telefilm molto famoso in quei tempi, Rock Follies, che aveva una sorta di battuta tormentone in "that's the buzz, cocks" che vale più o meno "è la voce che gira, ragazzi". Tra l'altro Pete Shelley come lavoretto era commesso in un sexy shop a Bolton, particolare che dava una vena ironica alla scelta.

Decidono, con una mossa che farà scuola, di autoprodursi il primo lavoro, che è l'Ep di oggi. Fondano una propria casa discografica, la New Hormones, che è stata la prima etichetta indipendente di punk in Gran Bretagna. Producono, insieme al mitico produttore Martin Hannet (il capo produttore della Factory di Manchester, fido collaboratore dei Joy Division e di altre storiche band del periodo) questo Ep, che sin dal titolo, Spiral Scratch (a ricordo del suono della puntina sul vinile quando non funziona bene) è un inno al loro punk che sin da subito prende una strada diversa: abbandona i toni "politici" che in parte avevano i Sex Pistols e in seguito i Clash, per scegliere una vena ironica ma non meno devastante, parlando, per primi, dei problemi di droga dei giovani del tempo, della loro solitudine, del sesso. Chiesti 500 sterline a parenti ed amici, affittano con Hannett il 28 Dicembre del 1976 gli Indigo Sound Studios di Manchester, e in tre ore registrano 4 brani, che diventeranno loro icone e piccole perle del primo punk. Breakdown apre il lavoro, con il suo ritmo sostenuto e la chiara devastazione di essere non ancora formato in nulla di una generazione per la prima volta allo sbando (Whatever makes me tick it takes away my concentration\sets my hands a-trembling, gives me frustration\I'm gonna breakdown, I'm gonna breakdown yes). La nervosa Time's Up ha un piccolo refrain che è una dichiarazione d'intenti (Your time's up and me too\I'm out on account of you) prima che si apra la prima canzone icona del gruppo: Boredom prende alla lettera il titolo sviluppandosi in una canzone che in pratica utilizza solo due note, ed è il manifesto di una generazione apatica che ripete come un mantra "noia, noia noia" e, per la prima volta nella musica, ha paura nel futuro. Devoto, che lascerà la band dopo questo Ep dicendosi stanco del già sentirsi "definito e stereotipato" cambierà idea poco dopo fondando una nuova band, i Magazine. Friends Of Mine, con la voce diabolica di Devoto, è molto più estrema del resto, e rimarrà una sorta di unicum del gruppo, he nei lavori successivi amplierà il lato pop-punk, molto ironico, diventando la risposta europea ai Ramones.

Il disco, che fu stampato in sole 1000 copie, divenne una sorta di piccolo culto, e con il passaparola e con l'aiuto decisivo del manager del Virgin Records Store di Manchester, che lo consigliò ad altri negozi del gruppo, fu ristampato tantissime volte, fino a vendere nelle edizioni New Hormones oltre 16 mila copie. La casa discografica, che ebbe tra le mani i primi lavori di band poi eccezionali come The Fall, Cabaret Voltaire, Gang Of Four, in un primo momento non poté produrre nulla per mancanza di soldi. Solo dopo che la band, nel 1980, ebbe dissidi e non produsse niente l'etichetta iniziò a realizzare lavori, in tutto 21 dischi, ma a Manchester lo scettro era arrivato nelle mani della Factory, che produsse i dischi più innovativi e belli del periodo. Devoto una volta uscito, verrà sostituito spostando Steve Diggle alla chitarra, al basso Garth Smith, che venne ben presto rimpiazzato da Steve Garvey. Pur essendo stati i fondatori della prima piccola etichetta DIY (Do It by Yourself, termine coniato dal critico Simon Reynolds in un capitale saggio sul punk) la band siglerà un accordo con la United Artist per distribuire gli ultimi dischi della band. Con una formazione a 4 pubblicheranno nel 1978 Another Music In A Different Kitchen, uno dei migliori lavori del biennio punk '77-'78, decidendo di curare molto di più la produzione e a brani come Fast Cars, You Tear Me Up e I Don't Mind. Nello stesso anno pubblicano Love Bites, che doveva essere il nome del loro secondo Ep, che contiene la loro canzone più famosa, Ever Fallen In Love?, 2 minuti e 39 di chitarre e cori che sono un'apice del pop-punk, e vi consiglio di ascoltare anche la cover che anni dopo fanno del pezzo i Five Young Cannibals. Poi si sciolgono, e si riuniscono nel 1993, senza lasciare granchè. Una band punk ma non troppo questi Buzzcocks.

#buzzcocks #spiral scratch #1977 #recensione

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bijouxcarys · 6 months ago

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Make It Better (Robert Plant x fem!OC)

Masterlist

Description: They say work and pleasure don't mix. But sometimes the former is made more bearable by the latter... **NSFW, minors please don't interact**

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is filthy. Disgusting. And yes, I think I'm okay. Just... bear with me.

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @firethatgrewsolow @callmethehunter @inanebula @tangerine1969

@ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @angrychicksposts @dzdndcnfsd @friccinfricks @chromations

@m-faithfull @strsmn (let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Robert fics)

It all started with a creative disagreement.

One thing about being a part of one of the world’s most successful rock bands was the constant pressure to get things right. The back and forth, not only between band mates, but producers too. Sure, these producers knew the industry like the back of their hands, but Robert Plant wasn’t content with adhering to any status quo.

“D’ya think Hendrix put up with this crap?!” was a line heard by dozens down the street the more the weeks passed. He was coming home with battered fingernails and dishevelled hair from the time he’d spent gnawing and gripping. All because he felt he was being pushed into the same old bubble. Rock ‘n’ roll was nice, but what about da blues… where’s the soul gone?

Nowhere, that’s where the soul is.

“There’s no bloody soul in it!”

There was a time when all three could be intricately woven together to create one enigmatic, timeless masterpiece. But now it was all disco and structured ear worms.

The only person who helped Robert feel anything else lately was his significant other. His lady-friend that started as a heated affair but quickly spiralled into a complicated web of I love yous in bed, and “I don’t know what I want” the morning after.

But as she laid on her back, the familiar feeling of Robert’s girth stretching her out as he slowly rippled in and out of her, the pleasure had vanished. Much like the music, the soul was scarce.

Not that he was lacking; Robert was the master when it came to pleasuring the opposite sex. It was the mere idea of Robert being in such a state with the creative process that the joy and light from his eyes had disappeared; a state she had never seen him in during her time of knowing him. And it hurt her, knowing his soul was void of life, of colour.

“I wish there was something I could do to make it better…”

“There isn’t, luv. It’s just the way of the game.”

Swallowing hard, she ran her fingers up his defined arms, holding his flushed cheeks between her palms, coaxing him to look up at her and halt his movements. He scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong?” he asked, licking his lips.

“No, no,” she reassured, smiling up at him. “I just…” She looked off to the side, chewing her lip. Her lover sighed, having the decency to pull out of her and take her into his arms.

“What is it, darlin’? What’s going on up there?” he asked with such a softness that belied any of the turmoil he was facing mentally. She shivered at the tender kiss he placed on her hair, sensing his inhale as he did. He always liked how her hair smelled.

“You.”

It was a simple, one-worded answer. But it spoke volumes in encyclopaedias.

“Yer not still worryin’ about all that shit at the studio, are ya?” Robert was almost dismissive, huffing under his breath as the subtle reminder ground on him harsher than he expected it to. And she felt guilty initiating that reminder, but not as guilty as she’d feel if she had no resolution.

The idea that sprung to mind was risky, and she was somewhat nervous to propose such an idea. But it had been circling in the recesses of her mind since the night Robert arrived back home with bags under his bloodshot eyes—the usually jovial and bubbly vocalist muttered a mere four words the entirety of that night and passed out on the sofa not even an hour after returning.

“I have an idea—don’t laugh at me, or think it’s weird. I mean, it kind of is a bit weird, but I’m just trying to figure out a way to help you, but just tell me if I’m being ridiculous and we can jus–”

“Yer rambling, luv…” he broke her stream of vocalised thinking. Not that he minded in the slightest; he could listen to her ramble on for hours.

“Sorry,” she let out a flustered laugh. “I just… want you to hear me out here, okay?” Robert only responded by shifting on his side and propping his head up on his balled up fist. “I know you said there isn’t anything I could do to help you–”

“And there isn’t.”

“Just listen to me, please,” she pleaded, peering up at him. “What if… you could relieve that stress?”

“Relieve the stress?” he echoed with a quizzitive brow.

“Yeah, relieve the stress… on me.”

She bit her lip hard, searching his eyes for any sign that she should just shut up right now and leave whilst her dignity was still partially intact. But that sign never appeared. Instead, clouds of further confusion, then concern, but mostly intrigue took over his intense gaze.

“You want me to do that with you?” His question was quiet. Small. Cautious.

Once she’d given him a nod of confirmation, he rolled back on top of her with a swiftness that contrasted everything he embodied just seconds before. It was more like the leap of a lion once faced with its desired prey. He pounced.

“Yer sure you want me to do that?” he checked, delicately running his fingertips over her cheek, lowering them down to her throat and her chest.

“Yes…” she whispered, looking up at him with parted lips. “Just wanna make you feel better, baby…”

“Hm,” he hummed, a smirk appearing on his face. “You are a good little girl, aren’t you, darlin’?” He lowered his face and nuzzled her with his nose. “Always makin’ sure I’m satisfied, eh?”

“Mhm,” she confirmed with a childlike nod. “I trust you, Robert. I want you to let go. Use me… please.”

He took a deep breath, the hesitance still somewhere floating in the back of his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she reassured him with steady eyes. “I promise.”

Studying her for a moment longer, he slowly nodded, eyes darkening with desire. “Alright, luv,” he whispered. “But remember, you asked for this.”

Without further reluctance, he pressed his lips against hers with a newfound intensity, claiming her mouth in a passionate, almost feral kiss. His hands roamed her body, no longer gentle but demanding, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched.

“You really want this?” he murmured against her lips, his breath hot and ragged. “You want me to let go?”

“Yes,” she breathed, arching into his touch.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he moved his mouth to her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. She let out a light gasp, her hands instinctively reaching up to grip at his shoulders, but he swiftly grabbed her by the wrists, pinning them beside her head.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warned in a seductive purr, “or I’ll tie them up.”

Her eyes widened, a thrill running through her at his words. “Maybe you should,” she whispered. “Maybe you should stop me from being able to do whatever I want…”

His gaze locked onto hers, absorbing her words and the weight they held beyond this moment. Appreciative, he smirked and reached over her to blindly pull his silk scarf from where he had discarded it over the headboard. “You asked for it, luv,” he said, wrapping the scarf around her wrists and securing it in a knot—tightly, but still comfortable enough.

With her wrists bound just above her head and her body completely at his mercy, Robert’s restraint snapped. He leaned down, mouth claiming hers in a possessive kiss and his hands lowered to her legs, hoisting them both up to hang around his waist.

“My beautiful girl,” he muttered, trailing more kisses down her throat and to her chest. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She watched with hooded eyes as he slithered down her body, truly taking his sweet time in his worship. The occasional nip from his teeth jolted her, reminding her of who exactly was in charge of this moment.

“Absolutely drenched for me, angel,” he patronised, cooing with his lips slightly pouted. “So desperate.” He pushed her thighs open, roughly baring his palms down on them so she was fully exposed to him.

“Please, Robert…” she whimpered, trying her best to angle her hips upwards, utterly starving for the exquisite feeling of his silk tongue.

He gave no warning as he laid an open mouth kiss between her legs, tongue circling over any expanse of skin he could find. Groaning at the taste, he sucked her clit into his mouth, not bothering to avoid the use of his teeth. Soft ridges glided over her sensitive bud, the sensations heightening as he did. She gasped, tugging at the scarf around her wrists, fingertips aching to dig into Robert’s curly blonde roots.

Instead, she attempted to tighten her legs around him, but his vice grip only intensified. Muscles under his skin protruded as he bared more weight down onto her legs than perhaps necessary. But it made her feel so alive. So… wanted. So controlled.

Robert played with her, alternating between rapidly flicking the tip of his tongue across her clit, to sloppily dragging his entire mouth over her. One minute on the verge of making her cum, and one minute slowing the process down completely.

Nothing happened unless he made it happen.

“Turn over.”

She shouldn’t have enjoyed the humiliation it brought her to struggle with her bound hands as she flipped herself over onto her stomach. He just sat back on his feet, watching her with his cock in his hand. Stroking himself as she fought with herself to get into the position he wanted.

A smug smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he steadily crawled over her, one knee on either side of her legs.

“You alright, luv?”

“Y-yes,” she breathed out, moving to rest her head to the side.

“Good.” With gritted teeth, he pressed his palm down on her lower back, guiding his cock between her legs. “Don’t fucking move… I promise this is gunna feel real good, darlin’.”

Nodding, she bit down on her lip as he squeezed her legs together with his own, all whilst forcing his length into her cunt. Even with the slickness, there was a formidable resistance from the position alone. But it only served to emphasise just how fucking tight she was, and how big he was. Two traits that shouldn’t have meshed so well together, but did.

“O-oh my God…” she groaned, the pain sparking something otherworldly in her abdomen. Both of his hands grabbed at her hips as he sank all the way in, until he was snuggly resting his pelvis against her.

“Hmm… feels good, doesn’t it?” His eyes shut for a moment, twitching at the taut feeling being nestled so deeply inside. All she could do was nod at his question, hands curling into clenched fists above her head. For a moment, she attempted to wriggle away from him, but his eyes snapped open and fingers dug into her flesh. “Nuh-uh, I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

His strength, and overall larger than life presence, caused her back to arch, the tip of his cock pressing bluntly against her cervix.

One sharp thrust.

“R-Robert, I don’t th-think I can—”

“Yes you can. And you will,” he growled, withdrawing his hips, just to slam them back into her. “Bloody hell,” he let out an elongated moan.

Tears filled her eyes, feeling the heat radiating from his body as he leaned over her. To her surprise, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, before murmuring into her ear, “If it’s too much, just say “red” and I’ll stop, ‘kay?”

“Okay…” She had to smile to herself at the care he took, but it was swiftly replaced by an open-mouth, silent scream as he propped himself up on his hands, once again slamming himself into her. The position was new, at least for them, but she already knew she’d want to try it again. His cock had never felt so big inside of her—and he was huge.

His hands were splayed on the mattress on either side of her body, his lower half got to work on pummelling into her at a terrifying pace, with a level of brutality she had never seen from him.

She was merely a plaything. Something to be used. And she loved it. It was like she could feel every ounce of his frustration being spilled into her with every vicious swing, every harsh stroke.

“Yeah… that’s a good girl,” he grumbled under his breath, losing himself in the way her cunt sucked and gripped onto him, her whimpers and high-pitched yelps and moans encouraging his unholy behaviour.

“Ah!” she gasped for air as he gripped harshly on her hair, yanking her up so only her head was lifted. Her vision was blurry, but every square inch of her being convulsed and throbbed for him.

“You like that, darlin’, huh?” he spat, not necessarily searching for an answer. “Yeah, you do… I know you do,” he continued to ramble through clenched teeth, jaw tightened and brows narrowed. “You like it when Daddy fucking tears you apart… When Daddy’s in charge… Fuck!”

She could feel her legs turning to jelly, quivering as her head became fuzzy, and her body fell entirely limp as he took her how he wanted. And whilst he’d never called himself Daddy before, and she had never thought to utter such a name to him, there was nothing else she could have seen him as in that moment.

He was her Daddy. Her master. Her universe. Everything. All. About. Him.

By now, his hand had lowered to her throat, where his grip became almost unbearable. It hurt. She coughed and sputtered through her moans and whines.

“You sound so fuckin’ pathetic right now, luv. Such a fucking mess, all because of me, eh? That it? All those noises, just for me… All for me.”

“Yes!” she choked out. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me c–”

“I know. I can feel it.”

He pulled her up as far as she could in the position they were in—so far, in fact, that it strained her spine, her neck, her shoulders. Eyes rolled to the back of her head before they were clamped shut, his lips once again ghosting beside her ear.

“Tell me I’m in charge, baby,” he pled through uneven grunts. “Tell me everything’s mine… tell me, tell me, please.”

With all the strength she could muster, she turned her head, his large hand maintaining its death grip. “You’re in charge, baby,” she whimpered up at him, droplets of sweat from both of their heads combining as they pressed together. “It’s all yours…” Her teeth clenched down painfully. “Fuck, you’re the fucking best!”

“That’s right,” he huffed, his jarring thrusts becoming unstable, hips jutting. “Gunna fill you up, make you walk ‘round with me inside you… show everyone who you belong to… Ah, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck—”

He couldn’t even hold it back, couldn’t even wait for her, as he bust everything he had inside of her, emptying his seed. She was sure she blacked out for a second as he grasped around her neck even harder than before. Her thighs were sticky as he continued to pump himself dry, causing it to seep out before he’d even finished.

“Fuck, sorry, darlin’,” he almost inaudibly apologised, before pulling himself out of her and swiftly replacing his cock with three of his long fingers. His arm hooked around her neck as he kept her pressed against his looming form. Now, he relentlessly fucked her with his fingers, her juices and his seed covering his hand and the sheets as she cried out, whole body flushed and shaking.

“God, yes, right there—right there, Robert–” Her release cut her off, gushing and soaking him and his bed. Never had she ever cum this hard, for this long, and this intensely.

“There you go… Fuck, darlin’, I really made you feel that good, eh?” he breathlessly talked her through it, his softening cock resting on her backside as she came down, losing all grasp of reality in the process.

Once he’d let her go, she collapsed, every limb weak and her throat hoarse from the ungodly noises.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he reassured her as she tried to reach out for his hand, forgetting momentarily that she still had her wrists bound in silk. He freed her, capturing her shaky hand and enveloping his arm around her body. He still covered her, protecting her body. Laying sweet kisses along her spine and on her shoulder. Once he got up to her neck, he mumbled very gently against her tacky skin.

“I love you. Thank you.”

No gratitude was needed, as she’d do it all again, for him, in a heartbeat.

#robert plant #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #classic rock #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #rock music #70s #bijouxcaryslibrary #writing #writer #author #wattpad #ao3 #fic writer

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rayd3nnn · 1 year ago

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Hello again! I just love the last fic you did for my request and couldnt stop thinking about it so I had a wonderfully angsty idea and thought I should share lol

so today is my birthday 🎊🎉🙌

and it got me thinking about an angsty phantom fic (I love torturing this boy and my self as well 😢) what if the ghouls held birthdays like summoning days or something and phantom previously witnessed everyone throw Aurora a huge party and when his birthday rolls around and nothing happens he thinks they all know it's his birthday but since he's like a replacement he's not worth celebrating he gets all in his head during the day and messes up during practice anf gets yelled at by dew and judged by the othees so he spends his birthday night silently singing happy birthday to himself

(If you wanted to do a longer story or a part to you could have like aether call and ask how phantoms birthday go and everyone's like birthday "What birthday? And they realize that they had forgotten his birthday and yelled and pressured him on his b-day, and they all make it up to him) just another idea I love your writing style! ❤️

GJEICJTJEHXURJWHZE YOUR REQUESTS ARE FEEDING ME. Thank you thank youuu for the request. And I hope your having a very very happy birthday! So here’s my present to you.

Warnings: angst, comfort, forgotten, upsetting thoughts, abandonment issues, abandonment, yelling, pressure, overwhelmed thoughts, slight panic attack. Please let me know if I miss anything!

Below the cut if you will <3

“Happy birthday..”

Aurora’s summoning day was merely a day or two ago, the pack had thrown a huge party for the girl, filled with treats and laughter, happiness and joy. Phantom enjoyed celebrating his friends 2nd birthday, aside from her real one. He wondered what everyone would do for his birthday…which just so happened to be today!

Phantom was very excited, it was his summoning day, and him still being new to topside, and slightly naive and innocent…was kept wondering what his pack would do for him. And how fun and exciting it would be. His tail swayed behind him excitedly as he stretched, getting changed into his given uniform before walking into the bus’s common room, where Rain and Swiss were.

“Goodmorning!!” Phantom chirped happily, “..morning, what’s got you so excited for?” Rain asked confused. Phantom tilted his head confused. “Do you guys know what day it is?” He asks, Swiss shrugs and says “it’s Thursday.” Causing Phantoms ears to droop. “Oh” he mutters, walking away. He walked to Aurora’s room, the two were close given they were summoned merely days apart. He knocked on her door, eagerly waiting her reply. She would know what day it is! She’s got to have something planned for him. He just knows it. Her door unlocks and she peeks out from behind the door tiredly.

“Goodmorning Phantom…uh, did you need something..?” She asks, very confused. Phantom’s poor ears droop even more. “Oh, Uhm..nevermind..” He says, Aurora only nods before giving a small smile and closing her door again. Phantom walks back to his room, slightly upset. Maybe they were gonna throw a surprise party??? Yea. That’s what they’d do.

Band practice came around quickly, for the upcoming ritual they had tonight. He walked off the bus, seeming to be the last and walked into the venue. Searching for where everyone was, quickly finding them by their loudness and foolish behavior, like a bunch of cats. “Ah, Phantom it’s about time you showed up, yes?” Copia asked, announcing his arrival so they can start practice and soundcheck. Phantom merely nods before getting into position.

Phantoms thoughts began to spiral, he wondered. They must’ve known it was his birthday, right? The day he was summoned, everyone knows when the packmates are summoned, their all there to witness it. So how come they aren’t celebrating or wishing him a happy birthday..? Was it just because he’s a replacement? But, Aurora’s one too…so why did they celebrate hers but not his..? Was he not good enough? Did they just not care? Tears began to well in his eyes underneath of his mask, but he quickly shook off his tears, making a few mistake in the process causing the song to stop.

“For fucks sake Phantom get it together! What the hell is wrong with you? You were perfectly fine yesterday and now you can’t find the right chords??” Dewdrop yells, and the others simply look at him with disappointed faces from beneath their masks.

“I-I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to-” phantom tries to say, “fucking save it and fix your shit.” Dew snaps. Causing phantom to quietly whimper. Did they really just…not care about him at all??..he sighed. Fixing his grip on the guitar and getting through the rest of practice.

The day went on like normal, no celebrations, no happy birthdays..nothing. Although Papa had called him over, pat him on the shoulder and said “it is your birthday, yes? Cheer up and have a happy day.” Which made phantom feel just slightly better about the day.

He still had hope that the pack would do something for his birthday, anything at all it didn’t have to be big. The Ritual had come, and it went on well, although Phantom was lacking his usual energetic kitten energy, seeming tired and just not his usual self, earning glares from the other ghouls. It hurt, they really didn’t care about him, not a single bit. He thought they did, they were so nice to him. What did he do wrong to make them all hate him so suddenly…? Judge him and yell at him, and not celebrate his birthday..?

Soon enough nightfall came, Phantom ignored any after ritual games or chatter and went straight to his room, taking off his uniform and mask and changing into comfier clothes. He was so upset, so abandoned. Why was he here? What was he even here for..? Phantom sighed, looking at the clock. “11:33PM” the exact time he was summoned a year ago. Tears welled up in his eyes as he grabbed a large cookie from his bedside and a stick, using a lighter to light the stick, and place the cookie on the floor.

“Happy birthday..to me…h-…happy birthday…to me…” phantom sings to himself with a cracked voice, trying not to cry. “Happy- birthday..dear phantom…happy- birthday..to me..” phantom cries softly and quietly as he blew the fire off of the stick, and ate the cookie softly through choked silent sobs. His tail curled around his waist. Why did they hate him? What did he do so wrong?? Why were they having fun doing other things and not celebrating his birthday..? He shook his head, he was just a replacement. So what was there to celebrate at all..? Phantom cried himself to sleep, instead of enjoying his birthday like he should’ve.

The next morning, Phantom stayed in his room. The pack members were all gathered in the bus common area talking with Aether on his daily face call. “So, how was the birthday?” He asks suddenly. The pack looked confused. “The birthday?? Aurora’s birthday was fine, she loved it. Why?” Cirrus asks. Aether furrows his brows through the face camera. “No, not Aurora’s. Phantoms. How was phantoms birthday?” Aether asks again, being more specific. “Phantoms…birthday? What do you mean…?” Rain asks confused.

Aether’s face drops through the screen, before yelling. “You forgot his birthday?! You didn’t- you didn’t do anything for him? At all?! His birthday was yesterday!!” He yells through the phone. And the packs faces all pale. “…we yelled at and judged him— on his birthday…? We forgot his birthday…?” Swiss asks, mainly to himself. “Oh Satan, you forgot the poor boys birthday…” Aether sighs. “Listen…you better make it up to him. Because knowing him he’s probably overthinking everything, thinking you all hate him. Make it up to him or your all getting an earful when you get back from tour.” Aether says sternly. Ending the call.

The pack looks at eachother, nodding. Simply coming up with an idea in merely seconds. It was a travel day, so they didn’t have to leave the bus. They had some left over decorations from Aurora’s party. And since the Ghoul’s always get presents for their packmates ahead of time, they already had gifts for phantom. Dew decided he’d be the one to collect phantom from his room after everything was set up. And so the ghoul’s quickly got to work. And within half an hour, a perfect party set up was done.

Dewdrop walked to Phantom’s bunk room, knocking softly on the door. “Hey, Babybat are you in there?” He asked softly. He heard a soft groan in response, not an ‘im just waking up’ groan, but a ‘why are you here..?’ Groan. Dewdrop carefully opened the door and walked into Phantoms bunk, phantom sat there fiddling with the spade of his tail, looking up and making eye contact. “Hm..?” Phantom hummed in question.

“Come here real quick bug, I’ve got something for you.” Dew said Phantom cautiously and limply got up, and followed Dew. “Close your eyes bug” Dewdrop said to him, and Phantom did as he was told. And when Dew told him to open his eyes, his eyes immediately sparkled with hope and happiness.

“Happy birthday Phantom!!!”

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thewolvesof1998 · 1 year ago

Text

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

Edit: must have accidentally copied someone else’s intro without realising 😂

I’ve posted 57,184 words to ao3 this year (I also started in June) I have almost the same number of words in my wips 😭 This year has been crazy and this fandom has provided me so much joy, not just writing but getting to know all my wonderful mutuals <3 The 911 brainrot is strong and I can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!

I posted the more words to Ao3 this year than I have in any other previous year, which is wild since I only really started writing again in June. It's wild the choke hold that Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley have on me. Here's my writing round-up for 2023 :)

June

I posted my first fic on June 20 and in nine days I had posted 6 fics 😂

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown

Teen | 826w

Rage, like a broken window to an oxygen-deprived room that’s already in flames, explodes within him and almost takes him out. He resists the urge to slam the phone’s receiver into the wall until it's just fragments of plastic that dig into the palm of his hand, drawing blood. He breathes through his nose and then out of his mouth and repeats that until he gets himself under control. or Eddie's in Jail and he almost calls Buck.

You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes

Mature | 1.6k

Blue eyes meet his, washed out in the morning light, he's like the watercolour paintings they had seen in the museum with Chris last week, soft and fuzzy around the edges, with just a hint of bright colours. Blue like the sky, splashes of pink at his eyebrow and lips. Those lips, that still looked bruised from last night. Or The morning after Buck and Eddie finally get together.

asking all these questions, just to be polite, while dying inside

Teen | 1.2K

But Eddie looks good, like really good, like how is anyone allowed to look that good in jeans and a green henley? His hair is all fluffy which means he hasn't put any product in it, he wonders if it still smells like the green apple conditioner that Eddie and Chris liked to use. There's a new wrinkle at the corners of his eyes like he's been smiling a lot these last few years and it shouldn't hurt this much to know that Eddie's been happy without him but it does. or Buck dreams of what it would be like to lose Eddie as a friend and run into him five years down the line and having to ask all of these stupid questions just to be polite while dying inside.

Tapping Morse Code into your heart

Explicit | 2.8k

Buck can’t keep still. It was a known fact that some part of Buck’s body will be in constant motion, and when it wasn’t? You should be concerned. A bouncing knee, an elastic band wound around his fingers, head bopping, fingers tapping Morse code he had learned on a whim after Eddie told him that he knew it. So Buck can’t stay still even if his life depended on it. Or in this case an orgasm. And Eddie-well Eddie is annoyed. or Buck and Eddie use Morse Code to communicate when words can't be said.

I want you to be selfish with me

Mature | 4.6k

When Eddie gets the call is 12.24 am. He’s lying awake in bed, trying to avoid spiralling but failing when his phone lights up, vibrating and blaring out the stupid song Buck had changed his ringtone to. “So you know it's me calling.” Eddie didn’t say that he always knew it was Buck calling even without the ringtone. Buck’s the only one that calls him this late at night, it's also the only time Buck calls since he prefers to text during the normal hours of the day. Eddie sighs, dragging a hand over his face, looks like trying and failing to fall asleep is going to have to wait. His other hand reaches for his phone, answering. “Buck,” He says, he can hear a lot of background noise, voices and music, so it’s not an ‘I woke up from a nightmare and I needed to make sure you're still alive’ call. “Eddie,” Buck slurs, drunk, “Eds, Eds, did I wake you?” or Buck called Eddie while drunk and Eddie ends up using some of his military training to save him.

You bring me comfort

Teen | 4.1k

Frank asks him “When was the last time you were hugged?” He’d hugged Chris that morning. “No, I mean the last time you were held” He didn’t really understand the difference, he regularly hugs Christopher, Tia Pepa, Abuela, and even a few quick hugs with Buck which never seem like enough. “Not you holding someone else, comforting someone else, just purely someone holding you because you need it” Eddie thinks back to the hospital, thinks back to seeing Shannon’s body on the gurney, the way Bobby’s arms had gone around him and held him up. “When Shannon died, Bobby, my Captain, he-he hugged me” It had been so long ago, years and before that? He couldn’t remember. Frank doesn’t exactly give him homework called “get hugged” but he suggests that Eddie should ask for want he wants next time he needs comfort instead of putting on the sweater. or Eddie is touched starved and just needs a hug instead, instead he has his sweater.

July

I Can See You

Teen | 3.1k

Eddie gets out of his truck and watches as Buck sings along to whatever song is playing in his car. It’s captivating but Eddie thinks many things about Buck are. He’s unashamed as he belts, singing into his phone like it’s a microphone. Buck looks up and makes eye contact with Eddie, who can feel his lips stretched in a smile. Buck smiles back, continuing his impromptu show, now singing to Eddie even though he can’t hear it from across the parking lot. Eddie watches for a minute or so before walking over to Buck’s jeep, drawn to him like he has his own gravitational pull, stronger than the earth's as if Buck is the only reason Eddie hasn’t gone floating off into space yet. As he gets closer he can hear the muffled music, he can see the blue of Buck’s eyes as they gleam from joy. Eddie can barely make out the words: I see you, I see you, baby, Oh, baby OR Buck’s a Swiftie and he makes Eddie listen to Speak Now (TV) and accidentally confesses his love because of the song I Can See You

Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em

Explicit | 17k | 2/3

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks as Eddie slides up to the bar. “Whiskey, neat, thanks” “Make that two” A voice says from beside him, Eddie turns and takes in a black leather protection vest that’s undone over a bright blue button-down shirt. He drags his eyes up, over pale skin, an adam apple and stubble to blue eyes a shade or two lighter than his shirt. His white cowboy hat is back on, it makes the pink mark on his eyebrow stand out. There's a small smirk on his lips that Eddie does not linger on. “Evan Buckley,” He says, holding out his hand. Eddie clears his throat, “Eddie Diaz” He says shaking the offered hand, noticing the callous and firm grip before pulling back. OR What if Eddie had never left El Paso? What if Buck became a bull rider after being a ranch hand? After Eddie gets back from Afghanistan and Shannon divorces him some of his high school buddies decided to drag him to the rodeo to cheer him up. I don’t think they had in mind Eddie getting blown by a rodeo star behind the stable but it sure did improve his mood. Now Eddie can’t get Buck out of his mind and he might just become a rodeo regular.

Under the Guise of Violence

Explicit | 3k

Buck was kneeling. Not in the way Eddie had too frequently fantasised about, though from the lascivious smile on his face, maybe in a way Buck had fantasised about. There’s a cut above his right eyebrow, it’s a reflection of his pink birthmark, his nose is broken and blood-half dried-is trailing down to those plump pink lips. Eddie has to force himself to drag his eyes away. His hand tightens on the pummel of his sword, careful of its sharp edge that rests against the fragile skin of Buck’s neck. He doesn’t know how they got here. OR Eddie can't touch Buck unless it's to hurt him, after a sparring match Buck confronts him and it leads them back to Eddie's bedroom.

August, September and October I didn't post any fic- I was moving country and could not finish a fic to save my life 😂

November

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make

Teen | 800w

“Bobby, I’d like you to meet, Robin Buckley-Diaz,” Buck looks at the small bundle in his arms, bright blues staring right back up at him, “This is your Grandpops.” Bobby clears his throat, “Grandpops?” Buck looks up at the man who’s been more of a dad to him than his own blood, who had been by his bedside at every hospital visit and helped him grow up into the man he is today, “If that’s okay with you?” OR Bobby and Athena meet Buck and Eddie's new baby girl.

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest)

General | 1.9k

“Seat theif,” Buck pouts, “Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks and look, if he purposely makes his eyes all big and puts a little whine in his voice in a deadly combination that usually has Eddie folding to his whims that it’s between him and the universe okay? “Here,” Eddie says, patting his thigh and it shortcircuits Buck’s brain for longer than it probably should’ve. Eddie doesn’t actually mean that, he’s just messing with Buck right? Because as much as they’ve been accused of practically sitting on each other, they’ve never actually sat in each other’s laps. Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times before deciding that if Eddie is pulling his chain then he’s going to regret it and if it’s being earnest then it probably is comfier than the floor and better than being squeezed into a too-tight spot. “Okay,” Buck says, Eddie offers him a smile and his hand, as if daring him to do it. Buck takes the offered hand and Eddie pulls Buck onto his lap. OR What starts out as a normal 118 gathering ends with Buck sitting on Eddie's lap.

December

even when the heat breaks I’m still yours

Explicit | 6.1k

Eddie has many regrets in his life, lying on the floor of the cabin in the middle of a heat wave with his six foot two best friend pressing into his side while they were both trying to stay cool under the pitiful breeze of the ancient ceiling fan had the possibility to be high on that list. He turns his head to be confronted with a tattooed and freckle-covered shoulder, he can’t remember when they decided to strip down to their boxers -he might have suggested it after Buck’s third shirt had been soaked with sweat and had been clinging to his muscles in a dangerously distracting way- but at the time it had seemed like a good idea, he wasn’t sure about that now considering this was the third time in the last hour that he’s found himself turning to stare at the miles of bare skin. OR Buck and Eddie get stuck in a cabin during a heatwave, they finally take the next step and fuck nasty on the floor.

We might end up real close

Explicit | 2.2k

“Said you wanted us to bond. We might end up real close.” When Buck said those words to Bobby just merely few hours ago, it had been a joke about how if the bomb went off they would be reduced to blood, shards of bone and flesh, mixed so together that you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart without DNA testing. He hadn’t meant it in the way that it was now true with Eddie balls deep in him as he fucks Buck against the tile wall of the firehouse showers, both of them still fully dressed, uniform pants undone and pulled only down to mid-thigh in their haste. Though he thinks maybe Bobby wouldn’t be too surprised by this development given Buck’s recent past. OR the 2x01 Rewrite where Buck and Eddie fuck after removing the bomb.

They don’t know (your name is already mine)

General | 7.6k | 3/4

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Buck opens his mouth, his tongue feels like lead, “E-ed-” “Ed? Is your name Ed?” Buck shakes his head and winces when he sends a spike of pain through his head. Hands pull at his shirt and he feels the cold metal of scissors as they cut his brand new shirt. He’s supposed to be wearing that to tomorrow's Christmas Eve dinner. Eddie had said the colour makes his eyes pop. “He’s wearing dog tags…Eddie Diaz,” Buck moans, blackness at the edges of his vision seeps in, he tries to blink it away, no, they need to call Eddie, “It’s okay Eddie, we’ve got you,” is the last thing he hears before the darkness takes over. OR Buck gets in a car accident on Christmas Eve Eve and the only ID he has on him is Eddie's dog tags. A case of mistaken Identity, a trip to the hospital and a Christmas Surprise.

tagged by: @exhuastedpigeon @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @buddierights @callmenewbie @try-set-me-on-fire @hoodie-buck @carrierofthepaperclips

tagging (no pressure): @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @malewifediaz @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @mangacat201 @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @jeeyuns @thosetwofirefighters @monsterrae1 @princehattric @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @singlethread @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @blurredbuddie @aquamarineglitter @devirnis

#9-1-1 #buddie #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes #2023 writing round-up #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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