#if i had an opportunity to do a song with bob

[gardenschedule]

What Happened In India?

(or around that time...)

Before

Shortly before we were due to leave for India John spent the weekend with Derek Taylor, a former journalist who had become the Beatles' press spokesman and a good friend to us all. He, his wife Joan and their five children lived in a big country house where they seemed incredibly contented. When he came home after that weekend John put his arms around me and said, 'Let's have loads more kids, Cyn, and be really happy' Despite my increasingly strong feeling that John was slipping away from me, it seemed at moments like that as though nothing had changed. John was off drugs and seemed almost like his old self. 'We can make it work, Cyn,' he said. 'When we're in India we'll have time for us and everything will be fine.' I hoped he was right.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

Cyn hoped that Rishikesh would afford seclusion, privacy and an opportunity for her and John to rediscover each other and to revive their marriage. ‘Impossible hopes,’ she said sadly. ‘John said to me just before we went to India that he wanted us to have more children. Well that came out of the blue, I can tell you. I was really surprised, as he’d never said a word about that before.

Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

Cynthia: “It was a time for us all to drop out for a while. The years of fame and fortune had taken their toll on our nerves and minds. John and I both felt closer. There seemed to be a greater possibility of our finding a solution to personal difficulties. If our trip to India wasn’t going to solve our emotional problems, then nothing would.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

That letter made it crystal clear that they [John and Yoko] had been in contact. How well had they got to know one another? I tackled John, who told me she'd written many times, both letters and cards, but said, 'She's crackers, just a weirdo artist who wants me to sponsor her. Another nutter wanting money for all that avant-garde bullshit. It's not important.' I had no way of knowing whether he was telling me the truth. He sounded genuine, but a sixth sense told me there was more to this than he was admitting. I tried to put it to the back of my mind. We were going to India, and I wanted that to be a special time for us.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

John panicked at the accumulating threats from the Princess of Darkness. That was when he decided to go to India with Cynthia to put some distance between himself and Yoko. If he stayed away long enough, he could hope Yoko would just go away. Maybe she’d go back to America, or vanish in a puff of smoke. Her scissors act might go horribly wrong, or while she was bagged up one day the Royal Mail might frank the bag and deliver it to anywhere but India. Yes, a long trip to the ashram, where he could meditate and learn how to be calm and in control, give up drugs and spend romantic moments with Cynthia and glue his crumbling marriage back together, seemed opportune.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

“I don’t like the unhappiness she [Yoko] caused. She was horrible. John wanted to avoid her at first. He said, ‘Get rid of the bloody woman!’ But after India, he saw her differently — perhaps filtered through an exotic mindset.”

Tony Bramwell - the band’s ex-road manager

During

“The pressure of being the Beatles had driven a wedge between them individually and that had all percolated in the months leading up to their visit to Rishikesh,” he said. “Once they got there, and they unburdened themselves from all of that, they reconnected with their songwriting and their creativity. It just flowed forth.”

Bob Spitz to the New York Times

 “I was in a room for five days meditating,” said Lennon in The Beatles Anthology. “I wrote hundreds of songs. I couldn’t sleep and I was hallucinating like crazy, having dreams where you could smell. I’d do a few hours and they you’d trip off, three- or four-hour stretches. It was just a way of getting there, and you could go on amazing trips.” Cynthia Lennon said in Bob Spitz’s book The Beatles that for John, nothing else mattered when it came to mediation, adding “John and George were [finally] in their element [at the ashram]. They threw themselves totally into the Maharishi’s teachings, were happy, relaxed and above all found a piece of mind that had been denied them for so long.”

The Beatles in India: 16 Things You Didn’t Know

I was right in the Maharishi’s camp writing “I wanna die” you know. I’m So Tired and Yer Blues where they were pretty sort of realistic, you know, they were about me

Lennon Remembers

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da was born on the steps of one of the low slung cottages where the entourage lived. One day, remembers Saltzman, he was passing by the cottage when he saw Lennon and McCartney sitting on the front steps and strumming the tune on their acoustic guitars. He ran back, picked up the camera and took pictures of the two with a pensive-looking Starr sitting on the side, from outside a wicket gate. Saltzman remembers the two were singing the first two lines of the song "over and over again, going fast and slow, having fun". "That's the riff we have," McCartney told Saltzman, "but no words yet".

filmmaker Paul Saltzman

Jenny Boyd, Patti’s sister “I sat with John a lot, since he didn’t feel well, either from terrible jet lag, and insomnia. He would stay up late; unable to sleep, and write the songs that would later appear on The Beatles’ White Album. When I was at my lowest, he made a drawing of a turbaned Sikh genie holding a big snake and intoning, ‘By the power within, and the power without, I cast your tonsil lighthouse out!’ Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear John singing those sad songs he wrote during those evenings, like ‘I’m So Tired.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

John “I went to the Maharishi and, regardless of what I was supposed to be doing, I did write some of my best songs while I was there. It was a nice scene. Nice and secure and everybody was always smiling. The experience was worth it if only for the songs that came out. It could have been the desert or Ben Nevis. The funny thing about the Maharishi camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth, like ‘I’m So Tired’ and ‘Yer Blues.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

Meanwhile, I was not having the second honeymoon I'd hoped for. John was becoming increasingly cold and aloof towards me. He would get up early and leave our room. He spoke to me very little, and after a week or two he announced that he wanted to move into a separate room to give himself more space. From then on he virtually ignored me, both in private and in public. If the others noticed they didn't say so. I did my best to understand, begging him to explain what was wrong. He fobbed me off, telling me that it was just the effect of the meditation. 'I can't feel normal doing all this stuff,' He said. 'I'm trying to get myself together. It's nothing to do with you. Give me a break.' What I didn't know was that each morning he rushed down to the post office to see if he had a letter from Yoko. She was writing to him almost daily. When I learnt this later I felt very hurt.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

And because the Beatles didn’t know anything about ashrams and they haven’t seen anything before because they went for Maharishi, not for the ashram. Maharishi didn’t allow men to stay with their wives. John was delighted with the idea. He loved it, actually. I think it made Cynthia very unhappy. She wanted to stay with John, everybody had his own problems. My great interest was with John. I was very happy because I found John much healthier. The color in his face was different and he was happier and he took the whole thing very seriously, and he was trying hard and he was so excited when I arrived because perhaps I was part of the reason he was there.

Magic Alex in All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

We all went through a depression after Maharishi and Brian died; it wasn’t really to do with Maharishi, it was just that period. I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods. I was just about coming out of it around Maharishi, even though Brian had died – that knocked us back again. Well, it knocked me back.

John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

By spending two months in deep meditation in India, John brought his deepest problems to the surface but he was unable to resolve them: the contradiction between his family life and his life as a rock star with all the drugs and groupies was too great. Had he stayed with the Maharishi until the end of the course, he might have avoided some of the pain, but by terminating the instruction abruptly, he was left hanging in thin air. During the weeks at the camp, he had been receiving daily letters from Yoko, though nothing sexual had yet happened between them. He was very attracted by her but he felt tremendous guilt about breaking up his marriage: doing to Julian what his own parents had done to him, repeating the pattern.

Many Years From Now - Barry Miles

He [Mick Jagger] told me with amusement that the real reason why the Beatles left the Maharishi was that he made a pass at one of them: “They’re simple north-country lads; they’re terribly uptight about all that.” Am still not sure if I believe this story.

“The Sixties,” the second volume of Christopher Isherwood’s diaries

After

And I was slowly putting myself together after Maharishi, bit by bit over a two year period. I destroyed me ego and I didn’t believe I could do anything. I let Paul do what he want and say, them all of them do what they want, I was just nothing, I was shit. And then Derek tripped me out at his house after he got back from LA, and he sort of said you’re all right and pointed out which songs I’d written, and ‘you wrote this and you said this, you are intelligent, don’t be frightened’. And then next week I went down with Yoko and tripped out again and she filled me completely to realize I was me and it was alright.

Lennon Remembers

So much had changed since I’d last seen the Beatles just a few months previously. They had come back from their trip to India completely different people. They had once been fastidious and fashionable; now they were scruffy and unkempt. They had once been witty and full of humor; now they were solemn and prickly. They had once been bonded together as lifelong friends; now they resented one another’s company. They had once been lighthearted and fun to be around. Now they were angry.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

The rage that was bubbling inside John was the most obvious sign that something was seriously wrong. There was new tension between John and Paul, and even between John and Ringo, in addition to the often strained relationship that Paul had with George and the resentment that Ringo sometimes exhibited when Paul coached him too much on drum parts. In fact, the only two Beatles who seemed to get along during the White Album sessions were John and George. Perhaps that came from the experience they had shared at the ashram—after all, they were the two who had stuck it out, staying on long after Ringo and Paul had gone back home. Maybe they felt deserted by their bandmates, or betrayed. The undercurrents between the four Beatles were so complex at that point, it gave me a headache just thinking about it.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

Our first night back in the studio began, as usual, with small talk and catching up. “So how was India?” I asked. “India was okay, I guess… apart from that nasty little Maharishi,” John replied, venomously. Harrison looked deflated, as if it were a conversation they’d had many times before. With a deep sigh, he tried to calm his agitated bandmate. “Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad,” he interjected, earning a withering glance. Lennon’s bitterness and anger seemed almost palpable. Ringo tried deflecting things with a little humor. “It reminded me of a Butlins holiday camp, only the bloody food wasn’t as good,” he said with a wink. I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed. They were searching for something, but they didn’t know quite what it was; they had journeyed to India looking for answers, and they were disappointed that they hadn’t found them there… but it seemed to me that they didn’t even know the questions.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

“By all accounts, John had hit an all-time low [after India]. “John was in a rage because God had forsaken him,” George recalled. “Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.” According to Pete Shotton, who was spending time with John at Weybridge, there was an overriding feeling of humiliation—from the Maharishi, from the Apple Boutique shambles, from his deteriorating marriage, from what he felt was his shrinking position in the Beatles. “He was more fucked up than I’d even seen him,” Shotton remembers. “It seemed like everything was going to the dogs. He’d been desperately grasping [at] straws, as far as I was concerned, and there wasn’t even a straw there.”

the beatles: the biography, bob spitz

JOHN: How can two women split up four strong men? It’s impossible. You know, The Beatles were disintegrating slowly after Brian Epstein died, it was a slow death, and it was happening. It was evident in Let It Be – uh, although Linda and Yoko were evident then, but they weren’t when it started, I don’t think. It was evident in – in India, when George and I stayed there and Paul and Ringo left.

October, 1971 (St Regis Hotel, New York)

There was little need for me to repeat my instructions. As soon as we got there, it was obvious that things were not hunky-dory with the Beatles. Their recent month-long meditation retreat with the Maharishi didn’t seem to have helped their relationships very much, and the estrangement was definitely having an effect on their work. I don’t think any actual recording got done that night. Paul, George and Ringo were rehearsing some new songs, trying different ways of playing and singing them. Meanwhile, John spent most of his time sitting on the floor next to Yoko, chatting privately with her as she stroked his hair. He seemed no more involved in the proceedings than me and Lawrence, who watched the uncomfortable tension building from the other side of the studio. “Hey John.” Paul turned around to face him at one point. “Are you in this band or what?”

Leslie Cavendish, The Cutting Edge: The Story of the Beatles’ Hairdresser Who Defined an Era

Back at Kenwood John continued to be distant towards me. Now that we were away from the others and the charms of India, I felt increasingly afraid and depressed. John and I were back in the same bed, but the warmth and passion we had shared for so long were absent. John seemed barely to notice me. He was little better with Julian and was more likely to snap at him than give him a hug. There was just one moment of real warmth between us and that was, ironically, when John confessed to me that he had been unfaithful. We were in the kitchen when he said, out of the blue, 'There have been other women, you know, Cyn.'

John (Cynthia Lennon)

On the flight back from India, he had gotten very drunk and, for some reason, decided to confess all his affairs to Cynthia. Brutally, he ticked off a very long list, which included groupies, models, prostitutes, the wives and girlfriends of his and Cynthia’s friends and, possibly cruelest of all, Cynthia’s own girlfriends. Cynthia felt totally betrayed.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

The shattering of his faith in the Maharishi, meanwhile, had left John spiritually adrift once more; his instinctive response was to return with a vengeance to his former drug habits. (Like the other Beatles, John had totally abstained from alcohol and drugs while in India.) In retrospect, it's easy to see how wide open John was, at this particular juncture, to anything—or anybody—that might conceivably lift him out of his rut.

The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton

PAUL: I gave myself a set period, and then if it was gonna be something we really had to go back for, I was thinking of going back. But at the end of my month I was quite happy and I thought… this’ll do me. This is fine. If I want to get into it heavy, I can do it anywhere. That’s one of the nice things about it, you don’t have to go to church to do it, you can do it in your own room. So I was quite happy.

RINGO: I left just a little disillusioned, and John was a little disillusioned when he came back, and Paul was. [pause] George just loved it.

1993 rough cut of the Anthology series

Although Paul was the first to leave [India] disillusioned, John left in the mind of, ‘OK, well, we tried, we surrendered to God but it wasn’t God, it was Maharishi and this God thing is proving itself to be a total fallacy’ - and then went back to being The Beatles.

I left Rishikesh with John. Alex [Madras] had been the naughty boy who’d stirred everything up. John went in a rage because God had forsaken him (although it was nothing to do with God, really). Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.

I went to South India […] and everything that happened to me went wrong to the point that I felt, like John and Alex, that the Maharishi had put the heeby-jeebies in me.

George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)

JOHN: I’ve got no regrets at all, ‘cause it was a groove and I had some great experiences meditating eight hours a day—some amazing things, some amazing trips— it was great. And I still meditate off and on. George is doing it regularly. And I believe implicitly in the whole bit. It’s just that it’s difficult to continue it. I lost the rosy glasses. And I’m like that. I’m very idealistic. So I can’t really manage my exercises when I’ve lost that. I mean, I don’t want to be a boxer so much. It’s just that a few things happened, or didn’t happen. I don’t know, but something happened. It was sort of like a click and we just left and I don’t know what went on. It’s too near—I don’t really know what happened.

John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: The first Rolling Stone interview. (November 23rd, 1968)

Cynthia Lennon “John had taken acid once more and enthused, ‘Cyn, it was great. Christ Cyn, we’ve got to have lots more children. We’ve got to have a big family around us.’ At this point, I burst into tears … All I could blurt out was that, in no way, could I see us as he did. I was so disturbed by John’s outburst, that I even suggested that Yoko Ono was the woman for him. John protested at my crazy suggestion and suggested that I was being ridiculous. Although life went on as usual, my fears grew and I felt nervous and depressed. John was aware of my depression and suggested that, as he had to work for long hours in the recording studios for a few weeks, I should accompany Jenny, Donovan, Gyspy and Alexis on a holiday to Greece. The very thought of sun and sea really brightened my outlook.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

During the spring of 1968, John was as confused, lonely, and unhappy as I'd seen him in years. Though his relationship with the other Beatles was still free of serious strain, he was seeing increasingly less of Paul and George, both of whom were now pursuing independent lives and interests of their own.

In My Life, Pete Shotton

The resentment might have been coming from a different place. With his marital problems still unsettled and Cynthia gallivanting around Greece, drugs continued to govern John’s fitful moods. He dosed himself continuously with LSD, tweaking its random effect with any spare pills he happened to find lying around the house. In the right company, it plunged John into a deep, unfathomable trance that altered between indecipherable rambling and deadpan silences. At Weybridge, into which Pete Shotton had moved in order to keep his friend company, he stayed up nights, tripping and battling wave after wave of incendiary rage. One night, after the usual snack of hallucinogens, Shotton says he noticed John moving his arms around very slowly in a circle. “I said, ‘What are you doing?’ ” recalls Pete, “but John couldn’t explain it. He said, ‘I can’t stop. There’s something making me do this. I can’t help myself.’ ” Tears followed, uncontrollable rivers of tears, intermingled with hideous laughter. When Shotton tried to comfort him, John resisted. “I’m not crying,” he insisted peevishly, wiping his eyes with the back of a hand. Suddenly John declared that he was Jesus Christ, back from the grave. “He was convinced of it,” Pete recalls, “saying… ‘This is it, at last—I know who I am.’ ” The next day the Messiah convened an emergency meeting at Apple to announce his identity to the other Beatles. Unimpressed, they said: “Yeah, all right then. What shall we do now?” After someone suggested lunch, the matter was dropped.

That night at Weybridge, in the middle of another drug-induced reverie, the TV flickered off, whereupon John, already chastened and in a self-abasing mood, asked Pete if it was okay if he invited a woman to the house. Shotton, who had no intention of staying up another night with his friend, was relieved. “Well, I think I’ll call up Yoko,” John said.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

What happened that night can only be left to the imagination, but since it patently wasn’t the coming together of two virgins for the very first time, did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. So it must have been something pretty potent that made John fall headlong out of his casual affair with her into a mad obsession. Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania. If he really did believe that he was Jesus, Yoko would probably have convinced him she was the Virgin Mary. A virgin at any rate. John was shortly to tell the world that they spent the night at the top of the house in his bloodred music room, recording the Two Virgins tape. They say that a moose in heat can waken the dead and achieve the impossible with his bellows. John and Yoko spent the night screaming.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

Whatever her reasoning, Cynthia remained determined to see the marriage through [after finding John and Yoko together]. Convinced that John still needed her, she returned to Kenwood, mollified by his apparent denial that anything improper had occurred. “For a while, everything was wonderful,” she recalled. “We could speak more openly and honestly with each other, and there really was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.”

But the tunnel was short, and the light soon faded. Within weeks their life together had disintegrated into a revolving state of solicitude and withdrawal, resignation and despondence. Following a stretch when John became disturbingly incommunicative, Cynthia packed once again, escaping on still another vacation to Pesaro, Italy, with her mother, Julian, and a favorite aunt and uncle.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

No sooner were they back from India, than Jane returned to her work at the Bristol Old Vic, and Paul launched into what was probably the most relaxed time of his life. He opened wide the doors of Cavendish Avenue and the groupies, who had camped as faithfully outside as they had in Wimpole Street during the years that Paul had lived there with the Asher family, were astonished to find they were now invited in. Not only were they invited into the house, but also into Paul’s bed. Whenever I went up to see Paul, the house was filled with giggling, half-naked girls, cooking meals, walking Martha, or glued to the phone for hours on end, calling the world.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. But Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem; there was a lot of dope-smoking before takeoff and even during the transatlantic flight. But Jane Asher also helped spike Paul’s mood. The grudging engagement between Beatle and actress had been ticklish at best. But since traveling together in India and a subsequent ten-day trip to Scotland, Jane’s eccentricities rankled. Paul was having serious second thoughts about the relationship, which had reached a kind of critical, now-or-never stage.

Between John’s attitude and Paul’s paranoia, the Beatles were a PR nightmare. “It was a mad, bad week in New York,” recalled Derek Taylor, who met the two Beatles there to chaperone a round of press conferences, followed by interviews. Taylor had fashioned himself into a debonair drug aficionado since the Beatles first dosed him at Brian Epstein’s housewarming party, and now he and John gorged themselves on speed and a “mild and extremely benign hallucinogen” called Purple Holiday, courtesy of their New York chauffeur. The effect of it came through in the interviews. John was gallingly withdrawn and dismissive, Paul unusually distracted—which made them come off as two rich, snooty rock stars peddling another product.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

+ a couple of extra things

A quick timeline

December 25 Paul and Jane announced that they were engaged to be married.

February 15 George, Patti, John and Cynthia flew from London Airport to India.

February 19 Paul, Jane, Ringo and Maureen flew from London Airport to India.

March 26 Paul, Jane and Neil Aspinall flew back to England from Rishikesh, leaving George and Patti, John and Cynthia and “Magic” Alex who had come out to join them.

April 12 John and Cynthia, George and Patti and “Magic” Alex left in a hurry from Rishikesh, India, after “Magic” Alex convinced John and George that the Maharishi was using his position to gain sexual favours from at least one of the female meditators.

May 11 John and Paul, accompanied by “Magic” Alex, Neil Aspinall, Mal Evans, Ron Kass and Derek Taylor, flew to New York to launch Apple in the US.

May 15 Accompanied by Linda, Nat Weiss drove John, Paul and “Magic” Alex to the airport for their flight back to London.

May 19 With Cynthia taking a short holiday, John called Yoko Ono and invited her out to Kenwood. They made a random sound tape, which was later issued as Two Virgins with the notorious sleeve showing them both naked.

May 26 Cynthia returned home from a brief holiday in Greece, to discover Yoko Ono in residence with John.

May 31 Abbey Road. The White Album sessions. Work continued on ‘Revolution 1’ and the last six minutes was removed to form the basis of the chaotic ‘Revolution 9’. Yoko screamed on the track, her first appearance on a Beatles recording.

June 4 Paul began seeing Francie Schwartz.

July 20 Jane Asher, appearing on Simon Dee’s BBC Television show Dee Time, said that her engagement to Paul was off – but that it was not she that had broken it. She told Dee that they had been engaged for seven months, after knowing each other for five years. (She had arrived back at Cavendish Avenue one day to find Paul in bed with a girl named Francie Schwartz.)

The Beatles Diary Volume 1 The Beatles Years (Barry Miles)

A comment from Heydullblog, which I find interesting and think sums up how insufficient & unsatisfying most explanations are for how John changed during this period:

Michael Gerber November 25, 2021 at 4:31 pm

What, in all that, makes you HATE Cyn, and divorce her in the most abrupt and vicious way, even attempting to get her to commit adultery so you can give her (and your own son) as little as possible? Why not a quick and amiable divorce from a woman who, let’s be honest, knew she was getting cheated on pretty constantly since 1961.

What, in all that, makes you HATE Paul McCartney, who has been your closest professional collaborator since 1957, and engage in a five-year campaign to smear and demean him in the press? Why do you insist your millions of fans choose you or him? Why not simply pause the group, and everybody goes solo and remains friends, as was predicted at the end of touring?

What makes you DETERMINED to bust up your rock group, the most popular group in the world, the source of all your fame, money, and power?

What makes you pick Yoko Ono IN PARTICULAR out of all the groupies, hangers-on, and even sensible appropriate partners within your current circle? Eighteen months ago you were attracted to Maureen Cleave, Sonny Freeman, Alma Cogan, etc — pretty much the type of women you always picked — but now, you pick a conceptual artist offering total submersion into someone else’s ego?

And what makes you spend the rest of your life pretending all this was the greatest thing ever, the fullest flowering of your genius?

It’s not that John Lennon looked around at his life in early 1968 and thought, “I don’t want this anymore. This isn’t for me.” It’s that he lashed out incredibly fiercely, in every direction, made no distinction between friend and foe, demonstrated a huge amount of resentment and bitterness towards the very people who it would seem had helped him the most, and spent literally the rest of his short life at least arguably LESS happy than he’d been before. He didn’t dump his wife for the nanny and live happily ever after; he started a process of picking things up and throwing them away with great force that, if he’d been that way in 1957, would’ve kept any of his genius from ever emerging.

He changed, fundamentally, in a short time. Why?

Midlife crises happen, they are to be expected, but this one gets more singular the more you look at it. And the thing about post-India Lennon is how he’s no more happy, no more productive, no more self-aware, no more comfortable in his own skin, than pre-India Lennon. What does the guy in August 1980 have to be angry about? Really? It was only after I reached middle-age and went through my own version of crisis (crises) that I thought, “How strange.”

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #there are probably a million posts on this topic but the completionist in me had to do one too

[tweeterwilbury]

Everytime i listen to dirty world i think about how they did that song. It was probably something like

George: bob, do you have anything we could use?

Bob: "he loves your sexy body". Idk.

George: i'm deeply in love with you

#george harrison #bob dylan #traveling wilburys #sighs. #he was down BAAADDD #if i had an opportunity to do a song with bob #and it started with “he loves your sexy body” #i'd cry #but at least. #it's bob fucking dylan. #i hate him #i don't even know if i should tag this with the other members #sorry tom jeff and roy

[koqabear]

congratulations on 2k!! im so proud of you so heres a song equation that i think is so genius

the weeknd, one of your girls + beomgyu + smut and fluff = popular fuckboy!beomgyu x popular sweet!mc

this song is so beomgyu to me😵‍💫😵‍💫

♫: One of the Girls, The Weeknd // [2K Masterlist]

"Beomgyu’s a lot more obsessed with you than he’d like to admit."

beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 2.1K // genre: smut, pwp, only a bit of fluff sorry <3 MDNI.

warnings: dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, oral (m & f rec), name calling (slut), finger sucking(?), spitting, praise, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, etc.), deep throating, dacryphilia maybe, possessiveness, overstimulation, cumming untouched ig. unprotected sex.. lmk if i should add anything

Notes: 2k followers ended months ago and this bitch is still here

Beomgyu never intended to keep you around this long.

Pretty girls like you were never his type. Saccharine sweet, innocent smiles, bright eyes and an energetic attitude that brought people to you like flies to honey. You had the world in the palm of your hand, opportunities at your feet and friends that were loyal like dogs— you were perfect, untouchable, untainted. 

Everything he was not. 

Maybe that’s how he got where he is now, low lidded eyes observing you carefully, watching as your shining doe eyes plead up at him, careful hands smoothing up and down the rough material of his jeans; you’re so pretty like this, he finds himself thinking, all pliant and weak to him, waiting for his command like a mindless puppy— your throat bobs and your tongue darts across your lips, dainty fingers playing with the loops of his belt as you silently plead for permission to let him feel good.

“My friends were talking about you today,” Beomgyu murmurs, tilting his head and reaching down to caress your face gently; warm hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone, smiling at your head that immediately goes to lean into his touch, “said they couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout the way you looked in the dress you wore to last weeks party.”

Memories flash in your mind; the party your friends dragged you to, only complying because you were aware of who was taking part in hosting it— the pure, innocent image that hung over your head causing heads to turn the whole night— you could hear it, practically, the whispers and comments wondering what you were doing in such a place, all having speculated you the type to hate loud, rowdy environments like these.

They weren’t wrong; you barely lasted an hour in that dark, crowded place, finding yourself having a much better time in the back of Beomgyu’s car, pretty dress bunched at your hips and your makeup smudged by the time he dropped you off at your place, greedy hands refusing to let you go so easily, not one to put up much of a fight yourself; you’ve always been fond of waking up to the sight of Beomgyu first thing in the morning, anyway. 

Beomgyu’s eyes darken; you’re snapped out of your reverie by the feeling of blunt nails digging into your skin, your head tilted back as you’re forced to stare back at Beomgyu’s dangerous gaze.

“They also couldn’t stop talking ‘bout how bad they wanna fuck you,” he seethes, nails digging in deeper at the very thought; your eyes glisten and you shift restlessly on your knees, a shaky sigh escaping your lips at his tone— his thumb quickly reaches over to weigh down at your bottom lip, parting your lips slowly. 

“Would give anything to feel your mouth,” he recounts, thumb pushing into your mouth, a gentle pressure against your tongue as he surveys how easily you obey him; his brows knit together and his thumb hooks down against your tongue, opening your mouth roughly as he hovers over you; his face is inches away from yours as he speaks, his voice barely audible. “Said it’s such a shame they didn’t get their hands on you that night.”

Beomgyu could only sit back in his seat and listen; a spectator to it all, jaw clenched and arms crossed as he took in the way they spoke about you, salivating over you— the very reminder is enough to have his blood boiling. But, who was he to lash out at them? As far as the world was concerned, you were a pure, pretty girl that was expected to marry the son of an influential family friend. Beomgyu was never supposed to be in the picture.

“Wonder what everyone would think if they saw you now,” he mutters, voice patronizing and eyes filled with a sick arrogance as he stares down at you, “a good little slut on her knees for me.”

Without further warning, he spits; you flinch slightly at the action, a whine ripping through you as he straightens back up. Deft fingers smooth down your head, digging into your scalp and forcing your head forward— your hands are quick to undo his jeans, not needing another word from him for you to know what he wants. 

“Fuck,” Beomgyu breathes out, dazed at the sight of your eager actions, quickly undoing his jeans and getting to his leaking cock; your hand is warm and soft against him, and he feels himself twitching pathetically the moment you finally pull him free from his underwear; your pace is familiar and your lips are plush as they kiss at the tip of his cock, doe eyes glancing back up at him for approval.

“So perfect for me,” Beomgyu coos, caressing your cheeks and watching as you take him in your mouth slowly, lidded gaze glued onto the lewd scene like he’s determined to ingrain everything about this moment into his mind, “Know just what I like, such a good girl.”

His voice is soft and deep as he purrs out praise to you, hand wandering down until it’s placed at your throat curiously— you relax instinctively, jaw falling slack as he begins to thrust shallowly, whispered curses and rumbled groans making your thighs clench pitifully— but your hands simply fall down on your thighs, knowing that Beomgyu never likes it when you touch yourself like this. 

Your tearful yet determined gaze has Beomgyu’s pace stuttering— you just look so damn pretty under the dull lights of his room, the feminine and cute outfit you’ve put on today not helping at all; your makeup is already getting smudged from the tears that cling to your lashes and the drool that builds up at the corners of your mouth, taking everything Beomgyu gives you with nothing but a wide doe-eyed look. 

“Shit…” Beomgyu groans, his thrusts a lot rougher than they were moments ago; he’s getting closer, you can tell, your hands balling into fists on your thighs as you continue to let him fuck your mouth just how he likes— his hand is frantic to grab at the back of your head, fingers stinging at your scalp as he pulls you flush against his pelvis; he’s still, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth— your throat stings and your eyes squeeze shut, hot tears running down your cheeks as you swallow instinctively; Beomgyu lets out a sharp moan at the feeling.

“D–Don’t— don’t… do that,” Beomgyu huffs out, hips grinding subconsciously against you, your lungs starting to burn as you place a frantic hand on his thigh— but Beomgyu pays no mind to you, clearly lost in his head as he lets out a shaky sigh; at the sudden feeling of you placing a slight pressure on him, he looks down at you curiously. 

“Hold it,” he tells you, lips twitching darkly as he feels you swallow again, body tensing as he simply ruts into your throat gently, “just a bit longer… you can take it baby.”

Your throat constricts around him, your eyes sting and you whine on his cock that continues to stuff your mouth— Beomgyu only pulls out once he feels you tapping weakly at his thigh, watching with low lidded eyes as you immediately begin to sputter and cough, a string of spit connected from his tip to your lips; he leans down to get a good look at you, watching you with a deceivingly soft smile as you try to regain your breath— his hand smoothes down your hair fondly, head cocking to the side as he prompts you to look at him. 

“Good?” he asks gently, watching you nod without hesitation; he chuckles, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before he takes your hands in his, pulling you up and beginning to walk you backwards toward his bed, “Good.”

As Beomgyu hovers over you, your he can’t help but find himself thinking about how fond he’s grown of this sight; of you, your breathless figures and your shiny eyes that catch his every movement, from his gaze that takes you in hungrily to his hands that slowly push the skirt of your dress up. 

“Such a pretty girl,” Beomgyu breathes out, your wide eyes watching as he shifts down to lay on his stomach, slow, warm hands running up and down your thighs— you squirm impatiently at the feeling, hips bucking and lips parting in a gasp as he places a slow kiss onto your clothed cunt; mouth lingering for a moment, smiling coyly at the wet patch that already seems to have formed— and he looks back up at you, fingers hooking under your panties to pull them down as he speaks. “All mine too, right?”

Without thinking, you nod.

“Wouldn’t let anyone else see this perfect body,” he murmurs, fingers beginning to wander up and down your slit, toying with your clit and watching the arousal leak out of you desperately, “It’s all for me.”

Beomgyu always seems to get like this, you think to yourself— his touches are teasing, needy, and his tongue is warm as he licks at your clit, fingers picking up where he left off so he can talk— he’s insatiable, possessive, and his words always make you clench a little tighter against him; you think he must feel the way you react to him, and that’s why he’s taken a liking to running his mouth so much. 

You couldn’t be any more incorrect, though— because as Beomgyu finally begins to use his mouth on you, tongue fucking your hole and nose pressing insatiably against your clit, he can only find himself thinking about how he’d like to spend the rest of his life like this— here, with you, listening to the way you keen and cry and bury your fingers in his hair, whining incoherently into the air. 

“I’m— I’m close,” you stutter, your hips bucking and chasing after Beomgyu’s mouth; he simply hums in response, eyes closed with bliss as he feels your thighs shake and close around his head— your voice is pretty and airy as you stutter out mindless praise, every moan of his name causing his cock to twitch and leak against your mattress, unable to stop the way he grinds against it stupidly. 

“R-right— Right there, oh my god, please don’t stop, please— coming, I’m coming, Beomgyu—!”

Your hips buck up and your back arches— your nails dig into his scalp and pull at his hair, shaky moans falling from your lips as your body tenses up and your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu remains keen to it all— every sound you make, the way your body shakes and falls limp, he takes it all in, tongue still lapping hungrily at your arousal and hips still grinding into your mattress. 

He helps you ride it all out— your eyes prick with tears all the while, sensitivity sending shocks throughout your body as you feel him groan against your cunt, burying his head further in even after you’ve begun to whine that it’s too much; when his head emerges from between your legs, he looks just as dazed and out of breath as you— if not more so. 

“Gyu…” you mumble out, eyes drifting down to his chest that heaves, down to his stomach and noticing something that makes your eyes widen; Beomgyu follows your gaze, glancing down and looking away with red tinted ears.

“Can’t help it,” he huffs, not ashamed in the slightest as he hovers over you, cupping your face and leaning down to capture your lips, barely parting so he can speak, “you’re so hot when you cum.”

“Am I?” you ask softly, laughing at the immediate nod you get; your hand wanders down between your bodies, fingertips brushing over his cum-stained stomach and on his already hardening cock— your brows jump, and you smile. “Need me to clean you up?”

Beomgyu’s fervent shake of his head catches you by surprise; he’s never been one to deny the feeling of your mouth on him, so to say that this unexpected was an understatement.

“Just wanna be inside you,” he mumbles against your lips, the feeling of his cockhead grinding against your clit bringing about a sigh from both of you, “wanna see you cum again.”

The whine you let out at his words is enough to have him entering you slowly; dark eyes taking in every change of your expression, watching as your brows furrow at the stretch— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of the sight. 

No other girl has ever managed to do what you have; the man above you feels entirely enamored as he watches the way you cry and clench around his cock, gasping his name and clinging onto him desperately— you drive him crazy, and this only serves to prove it further. 

You were never supposed to leave such an impact on him. But now that you have, Beomgyu will do anything to make sure that you don’t escape his clutches.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fanfiction

[lvndrdaaze]

Genshin Men - Giving or Receiving?

Part 1 - Mondstadt and Liyue

(includes Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Childe, Kazuha, Xiao, and Zhongli)

(fem!reader, NSFW so no minors!!)

ALBEDO truly believes your body is the most fascinating experiment he has ever conducted. Delving his tongue into your pussy is his favourite way to spend time when he gets a break from his work, and it shows by how good he is at it. He knows exactly where to flick the tip of his tongue to have your back arching, exactly how hard to suck on your clit to make you clutch at his silky blond locks. He pays rapt attention to every reaction you give, wide blue eyes staring up at you from between your parted thighs, and he can see your orgasm coming before you can even feel it.

"Fascinating…"

DILUC places your feelings above all else, and so as much as he adores the feeling of your lips wrapped around his cock, he prefers to bury himself between your thighs. At the end of a long day, he'll spend hours bringing you orgasm after orgasm with nothing but his mouth. His tongue moves with deliberate purpose through your folds, lapping and sucking as though every action is second nature to him. Every mewl and whimper you let out fill his chest with pride, and his strong, calloused hands hold your hips down against the mattress firmly until he's satisfied that you're satisfied.

"Just relax, love. Allow me to take care of you."

KAEYA loves the incredible sense of power he gets from receiving from you. The sight of you on your knees, tongue hanging out of your spit slick lips has him throbbing in his own hand whilst he teases you, and the way you wait so patiently, so obediently, for him to give you his cock brings a smug smirk to his face. With a hand on your cheek, he guides the tip of his cock into your mouth, tapping it lightly against your waiting tongue and breathing out a chuckle at how quickly you wrap your lips around him, his knees almost buckling as you swirl your tongue around the swollen head.

"My my, I had no idea you were so eager, sweetheart. Go on then, show me how badly you want this."

VENTI has no real preference; no matter whether he's sloppily eating you out or has his cock deep in your throat, he's ecstatic. Everything Venti does, he does with the utmost enthusiasm, and oral is no different. When giving, he's a messy eater, moaning and drooling all over your twitching heat, and he won't stop until he's satisfied. When receiving, he's very vocal about his pleasure, trembling and thrusting into your mouth desperately as unbelievably loud whines pour from his lips like the finest song he's ever written.

"Hah, windblume, s-so good…"

CHILDE will never turn down the opportunity to have you on your knees for him, and in his opinion, there's no bad place to do it. In the privacy of either of your bedrooms, in his office at the Northland Bank, even in an alleyway on the way back from Liyue market, he's always eager to feel your wet throat constrict around his length. He puts no effort into the experience, however, not even guiding you onto his length with a hand in your hair. He just leans back and watches your bobbing head and teary eyes with a predatory grin on his face, feeling the heat bubbling within him with every drag of your tongue against the underside of his cock.

"Don't stop, princess. I want you to swallow everything I give you, got it?"

KAZUHA is an impossibly selfless lover. He'll almost never allow you to go down on him, and certainly not without returning the favour. He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of every inch of your skin, of every spot that makes you whimper and cry out for him, and he uses the knowledge to bring you to a world shattering orgasm every single time. The sounds you make are his favourite melody, and he'll have you singing for him whenever he gets an opportunity to have you in private.

"So sweet, love…I adore the way you sound."

XIAO has been obsessed with your mouth since the first time he felt it, warm and blissful around the tip of his cock, like a perfect slice of Celestia made just for him. He insists he doesn't deserve it, but when you sink so willingly to your knees before him, he can't bring himself to turn you away. His fists clench tight by his sides and his eyes slip closed at the feeling of your tongue on his aching tip, gently lapping up his essence to ease him into the sensation, then your lips wrap fully around him and he almost loses himself to the feeling, his hips twitching forward with moans muffled by his own hand as you take all of him in.

"I've, hnng, never felt anything so…perfect."

ZHONGLI may not be an Archon anymore, but he still loves to be worshipped by you. You look so sweet, kneeling between his parted legs with your fingers wrapped tentatively around his cock before you take him into your mouth. Sometimes he'll use his hand on the back of your head to guide your movements, and sometimes he'll just sit back and enjoy your show of devotion to him. He's so big, you can't possibly take all of it into your throat, but that never spoils it for him. After all, even the most resilient of beings couldn't resist the opportunity to watch an adorable thing like you eagerly gagging on his cock.

"That's it, my sweet thing. Just a little more…"

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #venti x reader #childe x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader

[turnstileskyline]

The Oral History of Take This To Your Grave – transcription under the cut

The pages that are just photographs, I haven't included. This post is already long enough.

Things that happened in 2003: Arnold Schwarzenegger became governor of California. Teen Vogue published its first issue. The world lost Johnny Cash. Johnny Depp appeared as Captain Jack Sparrow for the first time. A third Lord of the Rings movie arrived. Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, and Andy Hurley released Take This To Your Grave.

"About 21 years ago or so, as I was applying to colleges I would ultimately never go to, Fall Out Boy began as a little pop-punk side project of what we assumed was Pete's more serious band, Arma Angelus," Patrick wrote in a May 2023 social media post.

"We were sloppy and couldn't solidify a lineup, but the three of us (Pete, Joe, and I) were having way too much fun to give up on it."

"We were really rough around the edges. As an example of how rough, one of my favorite teachers pulled me aside after hearing the recording that would eventually become Evening Out With Your Girlfriend and tactfully said, 'What do you think your best instrument is, Patrick? Drums. It's drums. Probably not singing, Patrick.'"

"We went into Smart Studios with the Sean O'Keefe... So, there we were, 3/5 of a band with a singer who'd only been singing a year, no drummer, and one out of two guitarists. But we had the opportunity to record with Sean at Butch Vig's legendary studio.

"Eight or so months later, Fueled by Ramen would give us a contract to record the remaining songs. We'd sleep on floors, eat nothing but peanut butter and jelly, live in a van for the next three years, and somehow despite that, eventually play with Elton John and Taylor Swift and Jay-Z and for President Obama and the NFC championship, and all these other wildly unpredictable things. But none of that would ever come close to happening if Andy hadn't made it to the session and Joe hadn't dragged us kicking and screaming into being a band."

Two decades after its release, Take This To Your Grave sits comfortable in the Top 10 of Rolling Stone's 50 Greatest Pop-Punk Albums, edging out landmark records from Buzzcocks, Generation X, Green Day, The Offspring, Blink-182, and The Ramones.

It even ranked higher than Through Being Cool by Saves The Day and Jersey's Best Dancers from Lifetime, two records the guys in Fall Out Boy particularly revere.

Fall Out Boy's proper full-length debut on Fueled by Ramen is a deceptively smart, sugar-sweet, raw, energetic masterpiece owing as much to the bass player's pop culture passions, the singers deep love of R&B and soul, and their shared history in the hardcore scene as any pioneering punk band. Fall Out Boy's creative and commercial heights were still ahead, but Take This To Your Grave kicked it off, a harbinger for the enduring songwriting partnership between Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz, the eclectic contributions from Joe Trohman, and the propulsive powerhouse that is Andy Hurley.

The recordings document a special moment when Fall Out Boy was big in "the scene" but a "secret" from the mainstream. The band (and some of their friends) first sat down for an Oral History (which doubled as an Oral History of their origin story) with their old friend Ryan J. Downey, then Senior Editor for Alternative Press, upon the occasion of the album's 10th anniversary. What follows is an updated, sharper, and expanded version of that story, newly re-edited in 2023. As Patrick eloquently said: "Happy 20th birthday, Take This To Your Grave, you weird brilliant lightning strike accident of a record."

– Ryan J. Downey.

A Weird, Brilliant Lightning Strike Of A Record. The Oral History Of Fall Out Boy's Take This To Your Grave.

As told by:

Patrick Stump

Pete Wentz

Joe Trohman

Andy Hurley

Bob McLynn - Crush Music

Sean O'Keefe - Producer/Mixer

John Janick - Fueled By Ramen

Tim McIlrath - Rise Against

Mani Mostofi - Racetraitor

Chris Gutierrez - Arma Angelus

Mark Rose - Spitalfield

Sean Muttaqi - Uprising Records

Rory Felton - The Militia Group

Richard Reines - Drive-Thru Records

"To Feel No More Bitterness Forever" - From Hardcore to Softcore, 1998-2000

PETE WENTZ: When I got into hardcore, it was about discovering the world beyond yourself. There was a culture of trying to be a better person. That was part of what was so alluring about hardcore and punk for me. But for whatever reason, it shifted. Maybe this was just in Chicago, but it became less about the thought process behind it and more about moshing and breakdowns. There was a close-mindedness that felt very reactive.

TIM MCILRITH: I saw First Born many years ago, which was the first time I saw Pete and met him around then. This was '90s hardcore - p.c., vegan, activist kind of hardcore music. Pete was in many of those bands doing that kind of thing, and I was at many of those shows. The hardcore scene in Chicago was pretty small, so everyone kind of knew each other. I knew Andy Hurley as the drummer in Racetraitor. I was in a band called Baxter, so Pete always called me 'Baxter.' I was just 'Baxter' to a lot of those guys.

JOE TROHMAN: I was a young hardcore kid coming to the shows. The same way we all started doing bands. You're a shitty kid who goes to punk and hardcore shows, and you see the other bands playing, and you want to make friends with those guys because you want to play in bands too. Pete and I had a bit of a connection because we're from the same area. I was the youngest dude at most shows. I would see Extinction, Racetraitor, Burn It Down, and all the bands of that era.

WENTZ: My driver's license was suspended then, so Joe drove me everywhere. We listened to either Metalcore like Shai Hulud or pop-punk stuff like Screeching Weasel.

MCILRITH: I was in a band with Pete called Arma Angelus. I was like their fifth or sixth bass player. I wasn't doing anything musically when they hit me up to play bass, so I said, 'Of course.' I liked everyone in the band. We were rehearsing, playing a few shows here and there, with an ever-revolving cast of characters. We recorded a record together at the time. I even sing on that record, believe it or not, they gave me a vocal part. Around that same time, I began meeting with [bassist] Joe [Principe] about starting what would become Rise Against.

CHRIS GUTIERREZ: Wentz played me the Arma Angelus demo in the car. He said he wanted it to be a mix of Despair, Buried Alive, and Damnation A.D. He told me Tim was leaving to start another band - which ended up being Rise Against - and asked if I wanted to play bass.

TROHMAN: Pete asked me to fill in for a tour when I was 15. Pete had to call my dad to convince him to let me go. He did it, too. It was my first tour, in a shitty cargo van, with those dudes. They hazed the shit out of me. It was the best and worst experience. Best overall, worst at the time.

GUTIERREZ: Enthusiasm was starting to wane in Arma Angelus. Our drummer was really into cock-rock. It wasn't an ironic thing. He loved L.A. Guns, Whitesnake, and Hanoi Rocks. It drove Pete nuts because the scene was about Bleeding Through and Throwdown, not cock rock. He was frustrated that things weren't panning out for the band, and of course, there's a ceiling for how big a metalcore band can get, anyway.

MANI MOSTOFI: Pete had honed this tough guy persona, which I think was a defense mechanism. He had some volatile moments in his childhood. Underneath, he was a pretty sensitive and vulnerable person. After playing in every mosh-metal band in the Midwest and listening exclusively to Earth Crisis, Damnation A.D., Chokehold, and stuff like that for a long time, I think Pete wanted to do something fresh. He had gotten into Lifetime, Saves The Day, The Get Up Kids, and bands like that. Pete was at that moment where the softer side of him needed an outlet, and didn't want to hide behind mosh-machismo. I remember him telling me he wanted to start a band that more girls could listen to.

MCILRATH: Pete was talking about starting a pop-punk band. Bands like New Found Glory and Saves The Day were successful then. The whole pop-punk sound was accessible. Pete was just one of those guys destined for bigger things than screaming for mediocre hardcore bands in Chicago. He's a smart guy, a brilliant guy. All the endeavors he had taken on, even in the microcosm of the 1990s Chicago hardcore world, he put a lot of though into it. You could tell that if he were given a bigger receptacle to put that thought into, it could become something huge. He was always talented: lyrics, imagery, that whole thing. He was ahead of the curve. We were in this hardcore band from Chicago together, but we were both talking about endeavors beyond it.

TROHMAN: The drummer for Arma Angelus was moving. Pete and I talked about doing something different. It was just Pete and me at first. There was this thuggishness happening in the Chicago hardcore scene at that time that wasn't part of our vibe. It was cool, but it wasn't our thing.

MCILRITH: One day at Arma Angelus practice, Pete asked me, 'Are you going to do that thing with Joe?' I was like, 'Yeah, I think so.' He was like, 'You should do that, dude. Don't let this band hold you back. I'll be doing something else, too. We should be doing other things.' He was really ambitious. It was so amazing to me, too, because Pete was a guy who, at the time, was kind of learning how to play the bass. A guy who didn't really play an instrument will do down in history as one of the more brilliant musicians in Chicago. He had everything else in his corner. He knew how to do everything else. He needed to get some guys behind him because he had the rest covered. He had topics, themes, lyrics, artwork, this whole image he wanted to do, and he was uncompromising. He also tapped into something the rest of us were just waking up to: the advent of the internet. I mean, the internet wasn't new, but higher-speed internet was.

MOSTOFI: Joe was excited to be invited by Pete to do a band. Joe was the youngest in our crew by far, and Pete was the 'coolest' in a Fonzie sort of way. Joe deferred to Pete's judgement for years. But eventually, his whole life centered around bossy big-brother Pete. I think doing The Damned Things was for Joe what Fall Out Boy was for Pete, in a way. It was a way to find his own space within the group of friends. Unsurprisingly, Joe now plays a much more significant role in Fall Out Boy's music.

WENTZ: I wanted to do something easy and escapist. When Joe and I started the band, it was the worst band of all time. I feel like people said, 'Oh, yeah, you started Fall Out Boy to get big.' Dude, there was way more of a chance of every other band getting big in my head than Fall Out Boy. It was a side thing that was fun to do. Racetraitor and Extinction were big bands to me. We wanted to do pop-punk because it would be fun and hilarious. It was definitely on a lark. We weren't good. If it was an attempt at selling out, it was a very poor attempt.

MCILRITH: It was such a thing for people to move from hardcore bands to bands called 'emo' or pop-punk, as those bands were starting to get some radio play and signed to major labels. Everyone thought it was easy, but it's not as easy as that. Most guys we knew who tried it never did anything more successful than their hardcore bands. But Pete did it! And if anyone was going to, it was going to be him. He never did anything half-assed. He ended up playing bass in so many bands in Chicago, even though he could barely play the bass then, because simply putting him in your band meant you'd have a better show. He was just more into it. He knew more about dynamics, about getting a crowd to react to what you're doing than most people. Putting Pete in your band put you up a few notches.

"I'm Writing You A Chorus And Here Is Your Verse" - When Pete met Patrick, early 2001.

MARK ROSE: Patrick Stump played drums in this grindcore band called Grinding Process. They had put out a live split cassette tape.

PATRICK STUMP: My ambition always outweighed my ability or actual place in the world. I was a drummer and played in many bands and tried to finagle my way into better ones but never really managed. I was usually outgunned by the same two guys: this guy Rocky Senesce; I'm not sure if he's playing anymore, but he was amazing. And this other guy, De'Mar Hamilton, who is now in Plain White T's. We'd always go out for the same bands. I felt like I was pretty good, but then those guys just mopped the floor with me. I hadn't been playing music for a few months. I think my girlfriend dumped me. I was feeling down. I wasn't really into pop-punk or emo. I think at the time I was into Rhino Records box sets.

TROHMAN: I was at the Borders in Eden's Plaza in Wilmette, Illinois. My friend Arthur was asking me about Neurosis. Patrick just walked up and started talking to me.

STUMP: I was a bit arrogant and cocky, like a lot of young musicians. Joe was talking kind of loudly and I overheard him say something about Neurosis, and I think I came in kind of snotty, kind of correcting whatever they had said.

TROHMAN: We just started talking about music, and my buddy Arthur got shoved out of the conversation. I told him about the band we were starting. Pete was this local hardcore celebrity, which intrigued Patrick.

STUMP: I had similar conversations with any number of kids my age. This conversation didn't feel crazy special. That's one of the things that's real about [Joe and I meeting], and that's honest about it, that's it's not some 'love at first sight' thing where we started talking about music and 'Holy smokes, we're going to have the best band ever!' I had been in a lot of bands up until then. Hardcore was a couple of years away from me at that point. I was over it, but Pete was in real bands; that was interesting. Now I'm curious and I want to do this thing, or at least see what happens. Joe said they needed a drummer, guitar player, or singer, and I kind of bluffed and said I could do any one of those things for a pop-punk band. I'd had a lot of conversations about starting bands where I meet up with somebody and maybe try to figure out some songs and then we'd never see each other again. There were a lot of false starts and I assumed this would be just another one of those, but it would be fun for this one to be with the guy from Racetraitor and Extinction.

TROHMAN: He gave me the link to his MP3.com page. There were a few songs of him just playing acoustic and singing. He was awesome.

WENTZ: Joe told me we were going to this kid's house who would probably be our drummer but could also sing. He sent me a link to Patrick singing some acoustic thing, but the quality was so horrible it was hard to tell what it was. Patrick answered the door in some wild outfit. He looked like an emo kid but from the Endpoint era - dorky and cool. We went into the basement, and he was like, trying to set up his drums.

TROHMAN: Patrick has said many times that he intended to try out on drums. I was pushing for him to sing after hearing his demos. 'Hey! Sing for us!' I asked him to take out his acoustic guitar. He played songs from Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. I think he sang most of the record to us. We were thrilled. We had never been around someone who could sing like that.

WENTZ: I don't think Patrick thought we were cool at all. We were hanging out, and he started playing acoustic guitar. He started singing, and I realized he could sing any Saves The Day song. I was like, 'Wow, that's the way those bands sound! We should just have you sing.' It had to be serendipity because Patrick drumming and Joe singing is not the same band. I never thought about singing. It wasn't the type of thing I could sing. I knew I'd be playing bass. I didn't think it'd even go beyond a few practices. It didn't seem like the thing I was setting myself up to do for the next several years of my life in any way. I was going to college. It was just a fun getaway from the rest of life kind of thing to do.

STUMP: Andy was the first person we asked to play drums. Joe even brought him up in the Borders conversation. But Andy was too busy. He wasn't really interested, either, because we kind of sucked.

WENTZ: I wanted Hurley in the band, I was closest to him at the time, I had known him for a long time. I identified with him in the way that we were the younger dudes in our larger group. I tried to get him, but he was doing another band at the time, or multiple bands. He was Mani's go-to guy to play drums, always. I had asked him a few times. That should clue people into the fact that we weren't that good.

ANDY HURLEY: I knew Joe as 'Number One Fan.' We called him that because he was a huge fan of a band I was in, Kill The Slavemaster. When Fall Out Boy started, I was going to college full-time. I was in the band Project Rocket and I think The Kill Pill then, too.

MOSTOFI: After they got together the first or second time, Pete played me a recording and said, 'This is going to be big.' They had no songs, no name, no drummer. They could barely play their instruments. But Pete knew, and we believed him because we could see his drive and Patrick's potential. Patrick was prodigy. I imagine the first moment Pete heard him sing was probably like when I heard 15-year-old Andy Hurley play drums.

GUTIERREZ: One day at practice, Pete told me he had met some dudes with whom he was starting a pop-punk band. He said it would sound like a cross between New Found Glory and Lifetime. Then the more Fall Out Boy started to practice, the less active Arma Angelus became.

TROHMAN: We got hooked up with a friend named Ben Rose, who became our original drummer. We would practice in his parents' basement. We eventually wrote some pretty bad songs. I don't even have the demo. I have copies of Arma's demo, but I don't have that one.

MOSTOFI: We all knew that hardcore kids write better pop-punk songs than actual pop-punk kids. It had been proven. An experienced hardcore musician could bring a sense of aggression and urgency to the pop hooks in a way that a band like Yellowcard could never achieve. Pete and I had many conversations about this. He jokingly called it 'Softcore,' but that's precisely what it was. It's what he was going for. Take This To Your Grave sounds like Hot Topic, but it feels like CBGBs.

MCILRITH: Many hardcore guys who transitioned into pop-punk bands dumbed it down musically and lyrically. Fall Out Boy found a way to do it that wasn't dumbed down. They wrote music and lyrics that, if you listened closely, you could tell came from people who grew up into hardcore. Pete seemed to approach the song titles and lyrics the same way he attacked hardcore songs. You could see his signature on all of that.

STUMP: We all had very different ideas of what it should sound like. I signed up for Kid Dynamite, Strike Anywhere, or Dillinger Four. Pete was very into Lifetime and Saves The Day. I think both he and Joe were into New Found Glory and Blink-182. I still hadn't heard a lot of stuff. I was arrogant; I was a rock snob. I was over most pop-punk. But then I had this renaissance week where I was like, 'Man, you know what? I really do like The Descendents.' Like, the specific week I met Joe, it just happened to be that I was listening to a lot of Descendents. So, there was a part of me that was tickled by that idea. 'You know what? I'll try a pop-punk band. Why not?'

MOSTOFI: To be clear, they were trying to become a big band. But they did it by elevating radio-friendly pop punk, not debasing themselves for popularity. They were closely studying Drive-Thru Records bands like The Starting Line, who I couldn't stand. But they knew what they were doing. They extracted a few good elements from those bands and combined them with their other influences. Patrick never needed to be auto-tuned. He can sing. Pete never had to contrive this emotional depth. He always had it.

STUMP: The ideas for band names were obnoxious. At some point, Pete and I were arguing over it, and I think our first drummer, Ben Rose, who was in the hardcore band Strength In Numbers, suggested Fall Out Boy. Pete and I were like, 'Well, we don't hate that one. We'll keep it on the list.' But we never voted on a name.

"Fake It Like You Matter" - The Early Shows, 2001

The name Fall Out Boy made their shortlist, but their friends ultimately chose it for them. The line-up at the band's first show was Patrick Stump (sans guitar), Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, drummer Ben Rose, and guitarist John Flamandan in his only FOB appearance.

STUMP: We didn't have a name at our two or three shows. We were basically booked as 'Pete's new band' as he was the most known of any of us. Pete and I were the artsy two.

TROHMAN: The rest of us had no idea what we were doing onstage.

STUMP: We took ourselves very seriously and completely different ideas on what was 'cool.' Pete at the time was somewhere between maybe Chuck Palahniuk and Charles Bukowski, and kind of New Romantic and Manchester stuff, so he had that in mind. The band names he suggested were long and verbose, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. I was pretty much only into Tom Waits, so I wanted everything to be a reference to Tom Waits. The first show was at DePaul [University] in some cafeteria. The room looked a lot nicer than punk rock shows are supposed to look, like a room where you couldn't jump off the walls. We played with a band called Stillwell. I want to say one of the other bands played Black Sabbath's Black Sabbath in its entirety. We were out of place. We were tossing a few different names around. The singer for Stillwell was in earshot of the conversation so I was like 'Hey, settle this for us,' and told him whatever name it was, which I can't remember. 'What do you think of this name?' He goes, 'It sucks.' And the way he said it, there was this element to it, like, 'You guys probably suck, too, so whatever.' That was our first show. We played first and only had three songs. That was John's only show with us, and I never saw him again. I was just singing without a guitar, and I had never just sung before; that was horrifying. We blazed through those songs.

ROSE: Patrick had this shoulder-length hair. Watching these guys who were known for heavier stuff play pop-punk was strange. Pete was hopping around with the X's on his hands. Spitalfield was similar; we were kids playing another style of music who heard Texas Is The Reason and Get Up Kids and said, 'We have to start a band like this.'

MOSTOFI: The first show was a lot of fun. The musical side wasn't there, but Pete and Patrick's humor and charisma were front and center.

TROHMAN: I remember having a conversation with Mani about stage presence. He was telling me how important it was. Coalesce and The Dillinger Escape Plan would throw mic stands and cabinets. We loved that visual excitement and appeal. Years later, Patrick sang a Fall Out Boy song with Taylor Swift at Giants Stadium. It was such a great show to watch that I was reminded of how wise Mani was to give me that advice back then. Mani was like a mentor for me, honestly. He would always guide me through stuff.

MOSTOFI: Those guys grew up in Chicago, either playing in or seeing Extinction, Racetraitor, Los Crudos, and other bands that liked to talk and talk between songs. Fall Out Boy did that, and it was amazing. Patrick was awkward in a knowing and hilarious way. He'd say something odd, and then Pete would zing him. Or Pete would try to say something too cool, and Patrick would remind him they were nerds. These are very personal memories for me. Millions of people have seen the well-oiled machine, but so few of us saw those guys when they were so carefree.

TROHMAN: We had this goofy, bad first show, but all I can tell you was that I was determined to make this band work, no matter what.

STUMP: I kind of assumed that was the end of that. 'Whatever, on with our lives.' But Joe was very determined. He was going to pick us up for practice and we were going to keep playing shows. He was going to make the band happen whether the rest of us wanted to or not. That's how we got past show number one. John left the band because we only had three songs and he wasn't very interested. In the interim, I filled in on guitar. I didn't consider myself a guitar player. Our second show was a college show in Southern Illinois or something.

MCILRITH: That show was with my other band, The Killing Tree.

STUMP: We showed up late and played before The Killing Tree. There was no one there besides the bands and our friends. I think we had voted on some names. Pete said 'Hey, we're whatever!'; probably something very long. And someone yells out, 'Fuck that, no, you're Fall Out Boy!' Then when The Killing Tree was playing, Tim said, 'I want to thank Fall Out Boy.' Everyone looked up to Tim, so when he forced the name on us, it was fine. I was a diehard Simpsons fan, without question. I go pretty deep on The Simpsons. Joe and I would just rattle off Simpsons quotes. I used to do a lot of Simpsons impressions. Ben was very into Simpsons; he had a whole closet full of Simpsons action figures.

"If Only You Knew I Was Terrified" - The Early Recordings, 2002-2003

Wentz's relationships in the hardcore scene led to Fall Out Boy's first official releases. A convoluted and rarely properly explained chain of events resulted in the Fall Out Boy/Project Rocket split EP and Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend. Both were issued by California's Uprising Records, whose discography included Racetraitor's first album and the debut EP by Burn It Down. The band traveled to Wisconsin to record their first proper demo with engineer Jared Logan, drummer for Uprising's 7 Angels 7 Plagues.

TROHMAN: This isn't to be confused with the demo we did in Ben's basement, which was like a tape demo. This was our first real demo.

STUMP: Between booking the demo and recording it, we lost Ben Rose. He was the greatest guy, but it wasn't working out musically. Pete and Joe decided I should play drums on the demo. But Jared is a sick drummer, so he just did it.

TROHMAN: We had gotten this great singer but went through a series of drummers that didn't work out. I had to be the one who kicked Ben out. Not long after, our friend Brett Bunting played with us. I don't think he really wanted to do it, which was a bummer.

STUMP: I showed up to record that demo, feeling pulled into it. I liked hanging out with the guys, but I was a rock snob who didn't really want to be making that type of music. The first few songs were really rough. We were sloppy. We barely practiced. Pete was in Arma Angelus. Joe was the guy determined to make it happen. We couldn't keep a drummer or guitar player, and I could barely play guitar. I didn't really want to be in Fall Out Boy. We had these crappy songs that kind of happened; it didn't feel like anything. Joe did the guitars. I go in to do the vocals, I put on the headphones, and it starts playing and was kind of not bad! It was pretty good, actually. I was shocked. That was the first time I was like, 'Maybe I am supposed to be in this band.' I enjoyed hearing it back.

SEAN MUTTAQI: Wentz and I were pretty tight. He sent me some demos, and while I didn't know it would get as big as it did, I knew it was special. Wentz had a clear vision. Of all the guys from that scene, he was the most singularly focused on taking things to the next level. He was ahead of the game with promotion and the early days of social media.

STUMP: Arma Angelus had been on Eulogy. We talked to them a bit and spoke to Uprising because they had put out Racetraitor. At some point, the demo got to Sean, and he decided to make it half of a split with Andy's band, Project Rocket. We were pretty happy with that.

HURLEY: It was kind of competitive for me at the time. Project Rocket and Fall Out Boy were both doing pop-punk/pop-rock, I met Patrick through the band. I didn't really know him before Fall Out Boy.

TROHMAN: We got this drummer, Mike Pareskuwicz, who had been in a hardcore band from Central Illinois called Subsist.

STUMP: Uprising wanted us to make an album. We thought that was cool, but we only had those three songs that were on the split. We were still figuring ourselves out. One of the times we were recording with Jared in the studio, for the split or the album, this guy T.J. Kunasch was there. He was like, 'Hey, do you guys need a guitarist?' And he joined.

MUTTAQI: I borrowed some money to get them back in the studio. The songwriting was cool on that record, but it was all rushed. The urgency to get something out led to the recording being subpar. Their new drummer looked the part but couldn't really play. They had already tracked the drums before they realized it didn't sound so hot.

STUMP: The recording experience was not fun. We had two days to do an entire album. Mike was an awesome dude, but he lived crazy far away, in Kanakee, Illinois, so the drive to Milwaukee wasn't easy for him. He had to work or something the next day. So, he did everything in one take and left. He played alone, without a click, so it was a ness to figure out. We had to guess where the guitar was supposed to go. None of us liked the songs because we had slapped them together. We thought it all sucked. But I thought, 'Well, at least it'll be cool to have something out.' Then a lot of time went by. Smaller labels were at the mercy of money, and it was crazy expensive to put out a record back then.

MUTTAQI: Our record was being rushed out to help generate some interest, but that interest was building before we could even get the record out. We were beholden to finances while changing distribution partners and dealing with other delays. The buck stops with me, yes, but I didn't have that much control over the scheduling.

WENTZ: It's not what I would consider the first Fall Out Boy record. Hurley isn't on it and he's an integral part of the Fall Out Boy sound. But it is part of the history, the legacy. NASA didn't go right to the moon. They did test flights in the desert. Those are our test flights in the desert. It's not something I'm ashamed of or have weird feelings about.

STUMP: It's kind of embarrassing to me. Evening Out... isn't representative of the band we became. I liked Sean a lot, so it's nothing against him. If anybody wants to check out the band in that era, I think the split EP is a lot cooler. Plus, Andy is on that one.

TROHMAN: T.J. was the guy who showed up to the show without a guitar. He was the guy that could never get it right, but he was in the band for a while because we wanted a second guitar player. He's a nice dude but wasn't great to be in a band with back then. One day he drove unprompted from Racine to Chicago to pick up some gear. I don't know how he got into my parents' house, but the next thing I knew, he was in my bedroom. I didn't like being woken up and kicked him out of the band from bed.

STUMP: Our friend Brian Bennance asked us to do a split 7" with 504 Plan, which was a big band to us. Brian offered to pay for us to record with Sean O'Keefe, which was also a big deal. Mike couldn't get the time off work to record with us. We asked Andy to play on the songs. He agreed to do it, but only if he could make it in time after recording an entire EP with his band, The Kill Pill, in Chicago, on the same day.

MOSTOFI: Andy and I started The Kill Pill shortly after Racetraitor split up, not long after Fall Out Boy had formed. We played a bunch of local shows together. The minute Andy finished tracking drums for our EP in Chicago, he raced to the other studio in Madison.

STUMP: I'm getting ready to record the drums myself, getting levels and checking the drums, pretty much ready to go. And then in walks Andy Hurley. I was a little bummed because I really wanted to play drums that day. But then Andy goes through it all in like two takes and fucking nailed the entire thing. He just knocked it out of the park. All of us were like, 'That's crazy!'

WENTZ: When Andy came in, It just felt different. It was one of those 'a-ha' moments.

STUMP: Sean leaned over to us and said, 'You need to get this guy in the band.'

SEAN O'KEEFE: We had a blast. We pumped It out. We did it fast and to analog tape. People believe it was very Pro Tools oriented, but it really was done to 24-track tape. Patrick sang his ass off.

STUMP: The songs we had were 'Dead On Arrival,' 'Saturday,' and 'Homesick at Space Camp. There are quite a few songs that ended up on Take This To You Grave where I wrote most of the lyrics but Pete titled them.

WENTZ: 'Space Camp' was a reference to the 1986 movie, SpaceCamp, and the idea of space camp. Space camp wasn't something anyone in my area went to. Maybe they did, but it was never an option for me. It seems like the little kid version of meeting Jay-Z. The idea was also: what if you, like Joaquin Phoenix in the movie, took off to outer space and wanted to get home? 'I made it to space and now I'm just homesick and want to hang out with my friends.' In the greater sense, it's about having it all, but it's still not enough. There's a pop culture reference in 'Saturday' that a lot of people miss. 'Pete and I attack the lost Astoria' was a reference to The Goonies, which was filmed in Astoria, Oregon.

HURLEY: I remember hearing those recordings, especially 'Dead on Arrival,' and Patrick's voice and how well written those songs were, especially relative to anything else I had done - I had a feeling that this could do something.

WENTZ: It seemed like it would stall out if we didn't get a solid drummer in the band soon. That was the link that we couldn't nail down. Patrick was always a big musical presence. He thinks and writes rhythmi-cally, and we couldn't get a drummer to do what he wanted or speak his language. Hurley was the first one that could. It's like hearing two drummers talk together when they really get it. It sounds like a foreign language because it's not something I'm keyed into. Patrick needed someone on a similar musical plane. I wasn't there. Joe was younger and was probably headed there.

HURLEY: When Patrick was doing harmonies, it was like Queen. He's such a brilliant dude. I was always in bands that did a record and then broke up. I felt like this was a band that could tour a lot like the hardcore bands we loved, even if we had to have day jobs, too.

"(Four) Tired Boys And A Broken Down Van" - The Early Tours, 2002-2003

STUMP: We booked a tour with Spitalfield, another Chicago band, who had records out, so they were a big deal to us. We replaced T.J. with a guy named Brandon Hamm. He was never officially in the band. He quit when we were practicing 'Saturday.' He goes, 'I don't like that. I don't want to do this anymore.' Pete talked with guitarist Chris Envy from Showoff, who had just broken up. Chris said, 'Yeah, I'll play in your band.' He came to two practices, then quit like two days before the tour. It was only a two-week tour, but Mike couldn't get the time off work from Best Buy, or maybe it was Blockbuster. We had to lose Mike, which was the hardest member change for me. It was unpleasant.

TROHMAN: We had been trying to get Andy to join the band for a while. Even back at that first Borders conversation, we talked about him, but he was too busy at the time.

STUMP: I borrowed one of Joe's guitars and jumped in the fire. We were in this legendarily shitty used van Pete had gotten. It belonged to some flower shop, so it had this ominously worn-out flower decal outside and no windows [except in the front]. Crappy brakes, no A/C, missing the rearview mirror, no seats in the back, only the driver's seat. About 10 minutes into the tour, we hit something. A tire exploded and slingshot into the passenger side mirror, sending glass flying into the van. We pulled over into some weird animal petting zoo. I remember thinking, 'This is a bad omen for this tour.' Spitalfield was awesome, and we became tight with them. Drew Brown, who was later in Weekend Nachos, was out with them, too. But most of the shows were canceled.

WENTZ: We'd end up in a town, and our show was canceled, or we'd have three days off. 'Let's just get on whatever show we can. Whatever, you can pay us in pizza.'

STUMP: We played in a pizza place. We basically blocked the line of people trying to order pizza, maybe a foot away from the shitty tables. Nobody is trying to watch a band. They're just there to eat pizza. And that was perhaps the biggest show we played on that tour. One of the best moments on the Spitalfied tour was in Lincoln, Nebraska. The local opener wasn't even there - they were at the bar across the street and showed up later with two people. Fall Out Boy played for Spitalfield, and Spitalfield played for Fall Out Boy. Even the sound guy had left. It was basically an empty room. It was miserable.

HURLEY: Even though we played a ton of shows in front of just the other bands, it was awesome. I've known Pete forever and always loved being in bands with him. After that tour, it was pretty much agreed that I would be in the band. I wanted to be in the band.

WENTZ: We would play literally any show in those days for free. We played Chain Reaction in Orange County with a bunch of metalcore bands. I want to say Underoath was one of them. I remember a lot of black shirts and crossed arms at those kinds of shows. STUMP: One thing that gets lost in the annals of history is Fall Out Boy, the discarded hardcore band. We played so many hardcore shows! The audiences were cool, but they were just like, 'This is OK, but we'd really rather be moshing right now.' Which was better than many of the receptions we got from pop-punk kids.

MOSTOFI: Pete made sure there was little division between the band and the audience. In hardcore, kids are encouraged to grab the mic. Pete was very conscious about making the crowd feel like friends. I saw them in Austin, Texas, in front of maybe ten kids. But it was very clear all ten of those kids felt like Pete's best friends. And they were, in a way.

MCILRITH: People started to get into social networking. That kind of thing was all new to us, and they were way ahead. They networked with their fans before any of us.

MOSTOFI: Pete shared a lot about his life online and was intimate as hell. It was a new type of scene. Pete extended the band's community as far as fiber optics let him.

ROSE: Pete was extremely driven. Looking back, I wish I had that killer instinct. During that tour; we played a show in Colorado. On the day of the show, we went to Kinko's to make flyers to hand out to college kids. Pete put ‘members of Saves The Day and Screeching Weasel’ on the flyer. He was just like, 'This will get people in.'

WENTZ: We booked a lot of our early shows through hardcore connections, and to some extent, that carries through to what Fall Out Boy shows are like today. If you come to see us play live, we're basically Slayer compared to everyone else when we play these pop radio shows. Some of that carries back to what you must do to avoid being heckled at hardcore shows. You may not like our music, but you will leave here respecting us. Not everyone is going to love you. Not everyone is going to give a shit. But you need to earn a crowd's respect. That was an important way for us to learn that.

MOSTOFI: All those dudes, except Andy, lived in this great apartment with our friend Brett Bunting, who was almost their drummer at one point. The proximity helped them gel.

STUMP: There were a lot of renegade last-minute shows where we'd just call and get added. We somehow ended up on a show with Head Automatica that way.

MCILRITH: At some point early on, they opened for Rise Against in a church basement in Downers Grove. We were doing well then; headlining that place was a big deal. Then Pete's band was coming up right behind us, and you could tell there was a lot of chatter about Fall Out Boy. I remember getting to the show, and there were many people there, many of whom I had never seen in the scene before. A lot of unfamiliar faces. A lot of people that wouldn't have normally found their way to the seedy Fireside Bowl in Chicago. These were young kids, and I was 21 then, so when I say young, I mean really young. Clearly, Fall Out Boy had tapped into something the rest of us had not. People were super excited to see them play and freaked out; there was a lot of enthusiasm at that show. After they finished, their fans bailed. They were dedicated. They wanted to see Fall Out Boy. They didn't necessarily want to see Rise Against play. That was my first clue that, 'Whoa, what Pete told me that day at Arma Angelus rehearsal is coming true. He was right.' Whatever he was doing was working.

"My Insides Are Copper, And I'd Like To Make Them Gold" - The Record Labels Come Calling, 2002

STUMP: The split EP was going to be a three-way split with 504 Plan, August Premier, and us at one point. But then the record just never happened. Brian backed out of putting it out. We asked him if we could do something else with the three songs and he didn't really seem to care. So, we started shopping the three songs as a demo. Pete ended up framing the rejection letters we got from a lot of pop-punk labels. But some were interested.

HURLEY: We wanted to be on Drive-Thru Records so bad. That was the label.

RICHARD REINES: After we started talking to them, I found the demo they had sent us in the office. I played it for my sister. We decided everything together. She liked them but wasn't as crazy about them as I was. We arranged with Pete to see them practice. We had started a new label called Rushmore. Fall Out Boy wasn't the best live band. We weren't thrilled [by the showcase]. But the songs were great. We both had to love a band to sign them, so my sister said, 'If you love them so much, let's sign them to Rushmore, not Drive Thru.'

HURLEY: We did a showcase for Richard and Stephanie Reines. They were just kind of like, 'Yeah, we have this side label thing. We'd be interested in having you on that.' I remember them saying they passed on Saves The Day and wished they would have put out Through Being Cool. But then they [basically] passed on us by offering to put us on Rushmore. We realized we could settle for that, but we knew it wasn't the right thing.

RORY FELTON: Kevin Knight had a website, TheScout, which always featured great new bands. I believe he shared the demo with us. I flew out to Chicago. Joe and Patrick picked me up at the airport. I saw them play at a VFW hall, Patrick drank an entire bottle of hot sauce on a dare at dinner, and then we all went to see the movie The Ring. I slept on the couch in their apartment, the one featured on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. Chad [Pearson], my partner, also flew out to meet with the band.

STUMP: It was a weird time to be a band because it was feast or famine. At first, no one wanted us. Then as soon as one label said, 'Maybe we'll give 'em a shot,' suddenly there's a frenzy of phone calls from record labels. We were getting our shirts printed by Victory Records. One day, we went to pick up shirts, and someone came downstairs and said, 'Um, guys? [Owner] Tony [Brummel] wants to see you.' We were like, 'Did we forget to pay an invoice?' He made us an offer on the spot. We said, 'That's awesome, but we need to think about it.' It was one of those 'now or never' kinds of things. I think we had even left the van running. It was that kind of sudden; we were overwhelmed by it.

HURLEY: They told me Tony said something like, 'You can be with the Nike of the record industry or the Keds of the record industry.'

STUMP: We'd get random calls at the apartment. 'Hey, I'm a manager with so-and-so.' I talked to some boy band manager who said, 'We think you'll be a good fit.'

TROHMAN: The idea of a manager was a ‘big-time' thing. I answered a call one day, and this guy is like, 'I'm the manager for the Butthole Surfers, and I'd really like to work with you guys.' I just said, Yeah, I really like the Butthole Surfers, but I'll have to call you back.' And I do love that band. But I just knew that wasn't the right thing.

STUMP: Not all the archetypes you always read about are true. The label guys aren't all out to get you. Some are total douchebags. But then there are a lot who are sweet and genuine. It's the same thing with managers. I really liked the Militia Group. They told us it was poor form to talk to us without a manager. They recommended Bob McLynn.

FELTON: We knew the guys at Crush from working with Acceptance and The Beautiful Mistake. We thought they'd be great for Fall Out Boy, so we sent the music to their team.

STUMP: They said Crush was their favorite management company and gave us their number. Crush's biggest band at the time was American Hi-Fi. Jonathan Daniels, the guy who started the company, sent a manager to see us. The guy was like, "This band sucks!' But Jonathan liked us and thought someone should do something with us. Bob was his youngest rookie manager. He had never managed anyone, and we had never been managed.

BOB MCLYNN: Someone else from my office who isn't with us anymore had seen them, but I hadn't seen them yet. At the time, we'd tried to manage Brand New; they went elsewhere, and I was bummed. Then we got the Fall Out Boy demo, and I was like, Wow. This sounds even better. This guy can really sing, and these songs are great.' I remember going at it hard after that whole thing. Fall Out Boy was my consolation prize. I don't know if they were talking to other managers or not, but Pete and I clicked.

TROHMAN: In addition to being really creative, Pete is really business savvy. We all have a bullshit detector these days, but Pete already had one back then. We met Bob, and we felt like this dude wouldn't fuck us over.

STUMP: We were the misfit toy that nobody else wanted. Bob really believed in us when nobody else did and when nobody believed in him. What's funny is that all the other managers at Crush were gone within a year. It was just Bob and Jonathan, and now they're partners. Bob was the weird New York Hardcore guy who scared me at the time.

TROHMAN: We felt safe with him. He's a big, hulking dude.

MCLYNN: We tried to make a deal with The Militia Group, but they wouldn't back off on a few things in the agreement. I told them those were deal breakers, opening the door to everyone else. I knew this band needed a shot to do bigger and better things.

TROHMAN: He told us not to sign with the label that recommended him to us. We thought there was something very honest about that.

MCLYNN: They paid all their dues. Those guys worked harder than any band I'd ever seen, and I was all about it. I had been in bands before and had just gotten out. I was getting out of the van just as these guys got into one. They busted their asses.

STUMP: A few labels basically said the same thing: they wanted to hear more. They weren't convinced we could write another song as good as 'Dead On Arrival.' I took that as a challenge. We returned to Sean a few months after those initial three songs, this time at Gravity Studios in Chicago. We recorded ‘Grenade Jumper' and 'Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy' in a night or two. 'Where is Your Boy' was my, 'Fine, you don't think I can write a fucking song? Here's your hit song, jerks!' But I must have pushed Pete pretty hard [arguing about the songs]. One night, as he and I drove with Joe, Pete said, 'Guys, I don't think I want to do this band anymore.' We talked about it for the rest of the ride home. I didn't want to be in the band in the first place! I was like, 'No! That's not fair! Don't leave me with this band! Don't make me kind of like this band, and then leave it! That's bullshit!' Pete didn't stay at the apartment that night. I called him at his parent's house. I told him I wasn't going to do the band without him. He was like, 'Don't break up your band over it.' I said, 'It's not my band. It's a band that you, Joe, and I started.' He was like, 'OK, I'll stick around.' And he came back with a vengeance.

WENTZ: It was maybe the first time we realized we could do these songs titles that didn't have much do with the song from the outside. Grand Theft Auto was such a big pop culture franchise. If you said the phrase back then, everyone recognized it. The play on words was about someone stealing your time in the fall. It was the earliest experimentation with that so it was a little simplistic compared to the stuff we did later. At the time, we'd tell someone the song title, and they'd say, 'You mean "Auto"'?

JOHN JANICK: I saw their name on fliers and thought it was strange. But I remembered it. Then I saw them on a flyer with one of our bands from Chicago, August Premier. I called them and asked about this band whose name I had seen on a few flyers now. They told me they were good and I should check it out. I heard an early version of a song online and instantly fell in love with it. Drive-Thru, The Militia Group, and a few majors tried to sign them. I was the odd man out. But I knew I wanted them right away.

HURLEY: Fueled By Ramen was co-owned by Vinnie [Fiorello] from Less Than Jake. It wasn't necessarily a band I grew up loving, but I had so much respect for them and what they had done and were doing.

JANICK: I randomly cold-called them at the apartment and spoke to Patrick. He told me I had to talk to Pete. I spoke to Pete later that day. We ended up talking on the phone for an hour. It was crazy. I never flew out there. I just got to know them over the phone.

MCLYNN: There were majors [interested], but I didn't want the band on a major right away. I knew they wouldn't understand the band. Rob Stevenson from Island Records knew all the indie labels were trying to sign Fall Out Boy. We did this first-ever incubator sort of deal. I also didn't want to stay on an indie forever; I felt we needed to develop and have a chance to do bigger and better things, but these indies didn't necessarily have radio staff. It was sort of the perfect scenario. Island gave us money to go on Fueled By Ramen, with whom we did a one-off. No one else would offer a one-off on an indie.

STUMP: They were the smallest of the labels involved, with the least 'gloss.' I said, 'I don't know about this, Pete.' Pete was the one who thought it was the smartest move. He pointed out that we could be a big fish in a small pond. So, we rolled the dice.

HURLEY: It was a one-record deal with Fueled By Ramen. We didn't necessarily get signed to Island, but they had the 'right of first refusal' [for the album following Take This To Your Grave]. It was an awesome deal. It was kind of unheard of, maybe, but there was a bunch of money coming from Island that we didn't have to recoup for promo type of things.

JANICK: The company was so focused on making sure we broke Fall Out Boy; any other label probably wouldn't have had that dedication. Pete and I talked for at least an hour every day. Pete and I became so close, so much so that we started Decaydance. It was his thing, but we ended up signing Panic! At The Disco, Gym Class Heroes, Cobra Starship.

GUTIERREZ: Who could predict Pete would A&R all those bands? There's no Panic! At The Disco or Gym Class Heroes without Wentz. He made them into celebrities.

"Turn This Up And I'll Tune You Out" - The Making of Take This To You Grave, 2003

The versions of "Dead on Arrival," "Saturday," and "Homesick at Space Camp" from the first sessions with Andy on drums are what appear on the album. "Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy" and "Grenade Jumper" are the demo versions recorded later in Chicago. O'Keefe recorded the music for the rest of the songs at Smart Studios once again. They knocked out the remaining songs in just nine days. Sean and Patrick snuck into Gravity Studios in the middle of the night to track vocals in the dead of winter. Patrick sang those seven songs from two to five in the morning in those sessions.

STUMP: John Janick basically said, ‘I'll buy those five songs and we'll make them part of the album, and here's some money to go record seven more.'

MCLYNN: It was a true indie deal with Fueled by Ramen. I think we got between $15,000 and $18,000 all-in to make the album. The band slept on the studio floor some nights.

STUMP: From a recording standpoint, it was amazing. It was very pro, we had Sean, all this gear, the fun studio accoutrements were there. It was competitive with anything we did afterward. But meanwhile, we're still four broke idiots.

WENTZ: We fibbed to our parents about what we were doing. I was supposed to be in school. I didn't have access to money or a credit card. I don't think any of us did.

STUMP: I don't think we slept anywhere we could shower, which was horrifying. There was a girl that Andy's girlfriend at the time went to school with who let us sleep on her floor, but we'd be there for maybe four hours at a time. It was crazy.

HURLEY: Once, Patrick thought it would be a good idea to spray this citrus bathroom spray under his arms like deodorant. It just destroyed him because it's not made for that. But it was all an awesome adventure.

WENTZ: We were so green we didn't really know how studios worked. Every day there was soda for the band. We asked, 'Could you take that soda money and buy us peanut butter, jelly, and bread?' which they did. I hear that stuff in some ways when I listen to that album.

HURLEY: Sean pushed us. He was such a perfectionist, which was awesome. I felt like, ‘This is what a real professional band does.' It was our first real studio experience.

WENTZ: Seeing the Nirvana Nevermind plaque on the wall was mind-blowing. They showed us the mic that had been used on that album.

HURLEY: The mic that Kurt Cobain used, that was pretty awesome, crazy, legendary, and cool. But we didn't get to use it.

WENTZ: They said only Shirley Manson] from Garbage could use it.

O'KEEFE: Those dudes were all straight edge at the time. It came up in conversation that I had smoked weed once a few months before. That started this joke that I was this huge stoner, which obviously I wasn't. They'd call me 'Scoobie Snacks O'Keefe' and all these things. When they turned in the art for the record, they thanked me with like ten different stoner nicknames - 'Dimebag O'Keefe' and stuff like that. The record company made Pete take like seven of them out because they said it was excessively ridiculous.

WENTZ: Sean was very helpful. He worked within the budget and took us more seriously than anyone else other than Patrick. There were no cameras around. There was no documentation. There was nothing to indicate this would be some ‘legendary' session. There are 12 songs on the album because those were all the songs we had. There was no pomp or circumstance or anything to suggest it would be an 'important’ record.

STUMP: Pete and I were starting to carve out our niches. When Pete [re-committed himself to the band], it felt like he had a list of things in his head he wanted to do right. Lyrics were on that list. He wasn't playing around anymore. I wrote the majority of the lyrics up to that point - ‘Saturday,' 'Dead on Arrival,' ‘Where's Your Boy?,’ ‘Grenade Jumper,' and ‘Homesick at Space Camp.' I was an artsy-fartsy dude who didn't want to be in a pop-punk band, so I was going really easy on the lyrics. I wasn't taking them seriously. When I look back on it, I did write some alright stuff. But I wasn't trying. Pete doesn't fuck around like that, and he does not take that kindly. When we returned to the studio, he started picking apart every word, every syllable. He started giving me [notes]. I got so exasperated at one point I was like, ‘You just write the fucking lyrics, dude. Just give me your lyrics, and I'll write around them.' Kind of angrily. So, he did. We hadn't quite figured out how to do it, though. I would write a song, scrap my lyrics, and try to fit his into where mine had been. It was exhausting. It was a rough process. It made both of us unhappy.

MCLYNN: I came from the post-hardcore scene in New York and wasn't a big fan of the pop-punk stuff happening. What struck me with these guys was the phenomenal lyrics and Patrick's insane voice. Many guys in these kinds of bands can sing alright, but Patrick was like a real singer. This guy had soul. He'd take these great lyrics Pete wrote and combine it with that soul, and that's what made their unique sound. They both put their hearts on their sleeves when they wrote together.

STUMP: We had a massive fight over 'Chicago is So Two Years Ago.' I didn't even want to record that song. I was being precious with things that were mine. Part of me thought the band wouldn't work out, and I'd go to college and do some music alone. I had a skeletal version of 'Chicago...'. I was playing it to myself in the lobby of the studio. I didn't know anyone was listening. Sean was walking by and wanted to [introduce it to the others]. I kind of lost my song. I was very precious about it. Pete didn't like some of the lyrics, so we fought. We argued over each word, one at a time. 'Tell That Mick...' was also a pretty big fight. Pete ended up throwing out all my words on that one. That was the first song where he wrote the entire set of lyrics. My only change was light that smoke' instead of ‘cigarette' because I didn't have enough syllables to say 'cigarette.' Everything else was verbatim what he handed to me. I realized I must really want to be in this band at this point if I'm willing to put up with this much fuss. The sound was always more important to me - the rhythm of the words, alliteration, syncopation - was all very exciting. Pete didn't care about any of that. He was all meaning. He didn't care how good the words sounded if they weren't amazing when you read them. Man, did we fight about that. We fought for nine days straight while not sleeping and smelling like shit. It was one long argument, but I think some of the best moments resulted from that.

WENTZ: In 'Calm Before the Storm,' Patrick wrote the line, 'There's a song on the radio that says, 'Let's Get This Party Started' which is a direct reference to Pink's 2001 song 'Get the Party Started.' 'Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today' is a line from the movie Rushmore. I thought we'd catch a little more flack for that, but even when we played it in Ireland, there was none of that. It's embraced, more like a shoutout.

STUMP: Pete and I met up on a lot of the same pop culture. He was more into '80s stuff than I was. One of the first things we talked about were Wes Anderson movies.

WENTZ: Another thing driving that song title was the knowledge that our fanbase wouldn't necessarily be familiar with Wes Anderson. It could be something that not only inspired us but something fans could also go check out. People don't ask us about that song so much now, but in that era, we'd answer and tell them to go watch Rushmore. You gotta see this movie. This line is a hilarious part of it.' Hopefully some people did. I encountered Jason Schwartzman at a party once. We didn't get to talk about the movie, but he was the sweetest human, and I was just geeking out. He told me he was writing a film with Wes Anderson about a train trip in India. I wanted to know about the writing process. He was like, 'Well, he's in New York City, I'm in LA. It's crazy because I'm on the phone all the time and my ear gets really hot.' That's the anecdote I got, and I loved it.

O'KEEFE: They're totally different people who approach making music from entirely different angles. It's cool to see them work. Pete would want a certain lyric. Patrick was focused on the phrasing. Pete would say the words were stupid and hand Patrick a revision, and Patrick would say I can't sing those the way I need to sing this. They would go through ten revisions for one song. I thought I would lose my mind with both of them, but then they would find it, and it would be fantastic. When they work together, it lights up. It takes on a life of its own. It's not always happy. There's a lot of push and pull, and each is trying to get their thing. With Take This To Your Grave, we never let anything go until all three of us were happy. Those guys were made to do this together.

WENTZ: A lot of the little things weren't a big deal, but those were things that [felt like] major decisions. I didn't want 'Where Is Your Boy' on Take This To Your Grave.

JANICK: I freaked out. I called Bob and said, 'We must put this song on the album! It's one of the biggest songs.' He agreed. We called Pete and talked about it; he was cool about it and heard us out.

WENTZ: I thought many things were humongous, and they just weren't. They didn't matter one way or another.

"Our Lawyer Made Us Change The (Album Cover)" - That Photo On Take This To Your Grave, 2003

STUMP: The band was rooted in nostalgia from early on. The '80s references were very much Pete's aesthetic. He had an idea for the cover. It ended up being his girlfriend at the time, face down on the bed, exhausted, in his bedroom. That was his bedroom in our apartment. His room was full of toys, '80s cereals. If we ended up with the Abbey Road cover of pop-punk, that original one was Sgt. Pepper's. But we couldn't legally clear any of the stuff in the photo. Darth Vader, Count Chocula…

WENTZ: There's a bunch of junk in there: a Morrissey poster, I think a Cher poster, Edward Scissorhands. We submitted it to Fueled by Ramen, and they were like, 'We can't clear any of this stuff.’ The original album cover did eventually come out on the vinyl version.

STUMP: The photo that ended up being the cover was simply a promo photo for that album cycle. We had to scramble. I was pushing the Blue Note jazz records feel. That's why the CD looks a bit like vinyl and why our names are listed on the front. I wanted a live photo on the cover. Pete liked the Blue Note idea but didn't like the live photo idea. I also made the fateful decision to have my name listed as 'Stump' rather than Stumph.

WENTZ: What we used was initially supposed to be the back cover. I remember someone in the band being pissed about it forever. Not everyone was into having our names on the cover. It was a strange thing to do at the time. But had the original cover been used, it wouldn't have been as iconic as what we ended up with. It wouldn't have been a conversation piece. That stupid futon in our house was busted in the middle. We're sitting close to each other because the futon was broken. The exposed brick wall was because it was the worst apartment ever. It makes me wonder: How many of these are accidental moments? At the time, there was nothing iconic about it. If we had a bigger budget, we probably would have ended up with a goofier cover that no one would have cared about.

STUMP: One of the things I liked about the cover was that it went along with something Pete had always said. I'm sure people will find this ironic, but Pete had always wanted to create a culture with the band where it was about all four guys and not just one guy. He had the foresight to even think about things like that. I didn't think anyone would give a fuck about our band! At the time, it was The Pete Wentz Band to most people. With that album cover, he was trying to reject that and [demonstrate] that all four of us mattered. A lot of people still don't get that, but whatever. I liked that element of the cover. It felt like a team. It felt like Voltron. It wasn't what I like to call 'the flying V photo' where the singer is squarely in the center, the most important, and everyone else is nearest the camera in order of 'importance.' The drummer would be in the very back. Maybe the DJ guy who scratches records was behind the drummer.

"You Need Him. I Could Be Him. Where Is Your Boy Tonight?" - The Dynamics of Punk Pop's Fab 4, 2003

Patrick seemed like something of the anti-frontman, never hogging the spotlight and often shrinking underneath his baseball hat. Wentz was more talkative, more out front on stage and in interviews, in a way that felt unprecedented for a bass player who wasn't also singing. In some ways, Fall Out Boy operated as a two-headed dictatorship. Wentz and Stump are in the car's front seat while Joe and Andy ride in the back.

STUMP: There is a lot of truth to that. Somebody must be in the front seat, no question. But the analogy doesn't really work for us; were more like a Swiss Army knife. You've got all these different attachments, but they are all part of the same thing. When you need one specific tool, the rest go back into the handle. That was how the band functioned and still does in many ways. Pete didn't want anyone to get screwed. Some things we've done might not have been the best business decision but were the right human decision. That was very much Pete's thing. I was 19 and very reactionary. If someone pissed me off, I'd be like, 'Screw them forever!' But Pete was very tactful. He was the business guy. Joe was active on the internet. He wouldn't stop believing in this band. He was the promotions guy. Andy was an honest instrumentalist: ‘I'm a drummer, and I'm going to be the best fucking drummer I can be.' He is very disciplined. None of us were that way aside from him. I was the dictator in the studio. I didn't know what producing was at the time or how it worked, but in retrospect, I've produced a lot of records because I'm an asshole in the studio. I'm a nice guy, but I'm not the nicest guy in the studio. It's a lot easier to know what you don't want. We carved out those roles early. We were very dependent on each other.

MCLYNN: I remember sitting in Japan with those guys. None of them were drinking then, but I was drinking plenty. It was happening there, their first time over, and all the shows were sold out. I remember looking at Pete and Patrick and telling Pete, ‘You're the luckiest guy in the world because you found this guy.' Patrick laughed. Then I turned to Patrick and said the same thing to him. Because really, they're yin and yang. They fit together so perfectly. The fact that Patrick found this guy with this vision, Pete had everything for the band laid out in his mind. Patrick, how he can sing, and what he did with Pete's lyrics - no one else could have done that. We tried it, even with the Black Cards project in 2010. We'd find these vocalists. Pete would write lyrics, and they'd try to form them into songs, but they just couldn't do it the way Patrick could. Pete has notebooks full of stuff that Patrick turns into songs. Not only can he sing like that, but how he turns those into songs is an art unto itself. It's really the combination of those two guys that make Fall Out Boy what it is. They're fortunate they found each other.

"I Could Walk This Fine Line Between Elation And Success. We All Know Which Way I'm Going To Strike The Stake Between My Chest" - Fall Out Boy Hits the Mainstream, 2003

Released on May 6, 2003, Take This To Your Grave massively connected with fans. (Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend arrived in stores less than two months earlier.) While Take This To Your Grave didn't crack the Billboard 200 upon its release, it eventually spent 30 weeks on the charts. From Under the Cork Tree debuted in the Top 10 just two years later, largely on Grave's momentum. 2007's Infinity on High bowed at #1.

WENTZ: I remember noticing it was getting insane when we would do in-stores. We'd still play anywhere. That was our deal. We liked being able to sell our stuff in the stores, too. It would turn into a riot. We played a Hollister at the mall in Schaumburg, Illinois. A lot of these stores were pretty corporate with a lot of rules, but Hollister would let us rip. Our merch guy was wearing board shorts, took this surfboard off the wall, and started crowd-surfing with it during the last song. I remember thinking things had gotten insane right at that moment.

HURLEY: When we toured with Less Than Jake, there were these samplers with two of their songs and two of ours. Giving those out was a surreal moment. To have real promotion for a record... It wasn't just an ad in a 'zine or something. It was awesome.

MCLYNN: They toured with The Reunion Show, Knockout, and Punch-line. One of their first big tours as an opening act was with MEST. There would be sold-out shows with 1,000 kids, and they would be singing along to Fall Out Boy much louder than to MEST. It was like, 'What's going on here?' It was the same deal with Less Than Jake. It really started catching fire months into the album being out. You just knew something was happening. As a headliner, they went from 500-capacity clubs to 1500 - 2000 capacity venues.

WENTZ: We always wanted to play The Metro in Chicago. It got awkward when they started asking us to play after this band or that band. There were bands we grew up with that were now smaller than us. Headlining The Metro was just wild. My parents came.

MCLYNN: There was a week on Warped Tour, and there was some beel because these guys were up-and-comers, and some of the bands that were a little more established weren't too happy. They were getting a little shit on Warped Tour that week, sort of their initiation. They were on this little, shitty stage. So many kids showed up to watch them in Detroit, and the kids rushed the stage, and it collapsed. The PA failed after like three songs. They finished with an acapella, 'Where is Your Boy,’ and the whole crowd sang along.

WENTZ: That's when every show started ending in a riot because it couldn't be contained. We ended up getting banned from a lot of venues because the entire crowd would end up onstage. It was pure energy. We'd be billed on tour as the opening band, and the promoter would tell us we had to close the show or else everyone would leave after we played. We were a good band to have that happen to because there wasn't any ego. We were just like, "Oh, that's weird.' It was just bizarre. When my parents saw it was this wid thing, they said, 'OK, yeah, maybe take a year off from college.' That year is still going on.

MCLYNN: That Warped Tour was when the band's first big magazine cover, by far, hit the stands. I give a lot of credit to Norman Wonderly and Mike Shea at Alternative Press. They saw what was happening with Fall Out Boy and were like, 'We know it's early with you guys, but we want to give you a cover.' It was the biggest thing to happen to any of us. It really helped kick it to another level. It helped stoke the fires that were burning. This is back when bands like Green Day, Blink-182, and No Doubt still sold millions of records left and right. It was a leap of faith for AP to step out on Fall Out Boy the way they did.

STUMP: That was our first big cover. It was crazy. My parents flipped out. That wasn't a small zine. It was a magazine my mom could find in a bookstore and tell her friends. It was a shocking time. It's still like that. Once the surrealism starts, it never ends. I was onstage with Taylor Swift ten years later. That statement just sounds insane. It's fucking crazy. But when I was onstage, I just fell into it. I wasn't thinking about how crazy it was until afterward. It was the same thing with the AP cover. We were so busy that it was just another one of those things we were doing that day. When we left, I was like, 'Holy fuck! We're on the cover of a magazine! One that I read! I have a subscription to that!'

HURLEY: Getting an 'In The Studio' blurb was a big deal. I remember seeing bands 'in the studio' and thinking, Man, I would love to be in that and have people care that we're in the studio.' There were more minor things, but that was our first big cover.

STUMP: One thing I remember about the photo shoot is I was asked to take off my hat. I was forced to take it off and had been wearing that hat for a while. I never wanted to be the lead singer. I always hoped to be a second guitarist with a backup singer role. I lobbied to find someone else to be the proper singer. But here I was, being the lead singer, and I fucking hated it. When I was a drummer, I was always behind something. Somehow the hat thing started. Pete gave me a hat instead of throwing it away - I think it's the one I'm wearing on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. It became like my Linus blanket. I had my hat, and I could permanently hide. You couldn't see my eyes or much of me, and I was very comfortable that way. The AP cover shoot was the first time someone asked me to remove it. My mom has a poster of that cover in her house, and every time I see it, I see the fear on my face - just trying to maintain composure while filled with terror and insecurity. ‘Why is there a camera on me?'

JANICK: We pounded the pavement every week for two years. We believed early on that something great was going to happen. As we moved to 100,000 and 200,000 albums, there were points where everything was tipping. When they were on the cover of Alternative Press. When they did Warped for five days, and the stage collapsed. We went into Christmas with the band selling 2000 to 3000 a week and in the listening stations at Hot Topic. Fueled By Ramen had never had anything like that before.

MOSTOFI: Pete and I used to joke that if he weren't straight edge, he would have likely been sent to prison or worse at some point before Fall Out Boy. Pete has a predisposition to addictive behavior and chemical dependency. This is something we talked about a lot back in the day. Straight Edge helped him avoid some of the traps of adolescence.

WENTZ: I was straight edge at the time. I don't think our band would have been so successful without that. The bands we were touring with were partying like crazy. Straight Edge helped solidify the relationship between the four of us. We were playing for the love of music, not for partying or girls or stuff like that. We liked being little maniacs running around. Hurley and I were kind of the younger brothers of the hardcore kids we were in bands with. This was an attempt to get out of that shadow a little bit. Nobody is going to compare this band to Racetraitor. You know when you don't want to do exactly what your dad or older brother does? There was a little bit of that.

"Take This To Your Grave, And I'll Take It To Mine" - The Legacy of Take This To Your Grave, 2003-2023

Take This To Your Grave represents a time before the paparazzi followed Wentz to Starbucks, before marriages and children, Disney soundtracks, and all the highs and lows of an illustrious career. The album altered the course for everyone involved with its creation. Crush Music added Miley Cyrus, Green Day, and Weezer to their roster. Fueled By Ramen signed Twenty One Pilots, Paramore, A Day To Remember, and All Time Low.

STUMP: I'm so proud of Take This To Your Grave. I had no idea how much people were going to react to it. I didn't know Fall Out Boy was that good of a band. We were this shitty post-hardcore band that decided to do a bunch of pop-punk before I went to college, and Pete went back to opening for Hatebreed. That was the plan. Somehow this record happened. To explain to people now how beautiful and accidental that record was is difficult. It seems like it had to have been planned, but no, we were that shitty band that opened for 25 Ta Life.

HURLEY: We wanted to make a record as perfect as Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. A front-to-back perfect collection of songs. That was our obsession with Take This To Your Grave. We were just trying to make a record that could be compared in any way to that record. There's just something special about when the four of us came together.

WENTZ: It blows my mind when I hear people talking about Take This To Your Grave or see people including it on lists because it was just this tiny personal thing. It was very barebones. That was all we had, and we gave everything we had to it. Maybe that's how these big iconic bands feel about those records, too. Perhaps that's how James Hetfield feels when we talk about Kill 'Em All. That album was probably the last moment many people had of having us as their band that their little brother didn't know about. I have those feelings about certain bands, too. 'This band was mine. That was the last time I could talk about them at school without anyone knowing who the fuck I was talking about.' That was the case with Take This To Your Grave.

TROHMAN: Before Save Rock N' Roll, there was a rumor that we would come back with one new song and then do a Take This To Your Grave tenth-anniversary tour. But we weren't going to do what people thought we would do. We weren't going to [wear out] our old material by just returning from the hiatus with a Take This To Your Grave tour.

WENTZ: We've been asked why we haven't done a Take This To Your Grave tour. In some ways, it's more respectful not to do that. It would feel like we were taking advantage of where that record sits, what it means to people and us.

HURLEY: When Metallica released Death Magnetic, I loved the record, but I feel like Load and Reload were better in a way, because you knew that's what they wanted to do.

TROHMAN: Some people want us to make Grave again, but I'm not 17. It would be hard to do something like that without it being contrived. Were proud of those songs. We know that’s where we came from. We know the album is an important part of our history.

STUMP: There's always going to be a Take This To Your Grave purist fan who wants that forever: But no matter what we do, we cannot give you 2003. It'll never happen again. I know the feeling, because I've lived it with my favorite bands, too. But there's a whole other chunk of our fans who have grown with us and followed this journey we're on. We were this happy accident that somehow came together. It’s tempting to plagarize yourself. But it’s way more satisfying and exciting to surprise yourself.

MCILRITH: Fall Out Boy is an important band for so many reasons. I know people don't expect the singer of Rise Against to say that, but they really are. If nothing else, they created so much dialog and conversation within not just a scene but an international scene. They were smart. They got accused of being this kiddie pop punk band, but they did smart things with their success. I say that, especially as a guy who grew up playing in the same Chicago hardcore bands that would go on and confront be-ing a part of mainstream music. Mainstream music and the mainstream world are machines that can chew your band up if you don't have your head on straight when you get into it. It's a fast-moving river, and you need to know what direction you're going in before you get into it. If you don't and you hesitate, it'll take you for a ride. Knowing those guys, they went into it with a really good idea. That's something that the hardcore instilled in all of us. Knowing where you stand on those things, we cut our teeth on the hardcore scene, and it made us ready for anything that the world could throw at us, including the giant music industry.

#long post #lke. VERY long post #fall out boy #fob #take this to your grave #tttyg #patrick stump #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley #if theres any typos lmk and i'll fix em this. hust took fucking forever to transcribe.

[romantichomicide95]

summary: anon request- HCs for megumi having a crush/drabble for how he confesses.

notes: i literally am loving the fluff for my gumi.

Megumi tends to be rather reserved. If he had a crush on you it would take him awhile to realize. He would be super observant, trying to figure out your likes and dislikes and it would kind of randomly hit him like “Why do I want to know these things?”

Gumi such a thoughtful boy, he would go above and beyond to make sure his crush is like doing okay. He’d watch out extra for you on missions, offer a hand.

He’s Mr.Broody but he’d be like way better of a friend to you than he is to anyone else. Wouldn’t even realize it either, he’d be so much nicer. Laughing at your dumb jokes, engaging more in conversation. He’d definitely go see Human Earthworm without hesitation if you asked.

Probably a little awkward around you. Tries to act like he’s not, or that he doesn’t care. But he does. You won’t be able to tell though, on the outside his demeanor is still stoic and reserved. Inside, he’s crumbling.

If you touch him in any way though my boys at least blushing. A graze against his hand, a hug. If you kiss his cheek it’s over for him.

Protective as hell. Better not fuck with you or middle school fushiguro might come out.

Remembers everything you have ever told him. Favorite movie, that weird fact you randomly brought up in passing conversation. That song he played that you bobbed your head to. That you don’t like pickles on your sandwiches. Everything.

Stares at you a lot. Doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, you’re just so pretty and he can’t help himself.

Megumi is not one to openly express his feelings, like I said he’s Mr.Broody. So it would be super hard for to come to terms with his crush, like boy would not realize it and if he did wtf would he do.

More than likely you would have to confess first I truly believe that. BUT if he did do it he would probably end up just blurting it out.

————

“So you like y/n right? It’s kind of obvious man. I think you should ask her out.” Yuji says, as him and Megumi wait for you and Nobara to meet them for lunch. “She likes you too. You guys would be perfect.”

“What? I- How do you know she likes me?” Megumi’s brows knit together and he’s annoyed at the blush on his face. Why would Yuji bring this up now? You’d be here any moment.

“She doesn’t stop smiling when she’s around you. She’s always trying to be near you or sit next to you…plus Nobara told me.” Yuji says nonchalantly.

Megumi’s mind starts to race. Shit. Is that true? Now he really doesn’t know what to do. I mean, you are pretty…really pretty. He knows that much. Plus, you always smell good. He actually enjoys spending time with you, and he thinks you’re really smart. And damn, your laugh is one of the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard, and sometimes he thinks he’s gunna choke on his words when he talks to you. Shit, he does like you. Now what?

“Nobara told you she likes me? She actually said that?” He says, once realization kicks in. He doesn’t know what this flutter he feels in his stomach is and why the hell his heart is racing. He glances over at Yuji who gives him a nod.

“Alright," Megumi says firmly. "I'm not saying you’re right and that I like her. But if you were…don’t say anything.”

Yuji gave him a nod as his eyes glance up to the cafes entrance. “Alright dude. I won’t. You can just tell her now.”

Before Megumi can protest. You and Nobara walk in and the pretty sound of your laughter fills the air as you scoot in to sit next to him. Now that he thinks about it, Yuji was right...you do always try to be around him. You always sit next to him when you can, you continuously seek opportunities to study together, and you do ask him for help with training all the time. But, how was he supposed to tell you he felt the same?

Megumi sat in silence contemplating as you, Yuji and Nobara chatted. You and your friends were different than Megumi, although, admittedly, Yuji and Nobara were on a whole other spectrum. But the three of you could get lost in conversation, while Megumi usually just quietly listened, only adding insight when he felt it was appropriate.

“You alright? You’re even quieter than usual.” You ask Megumi, sipping your tea. Since you arrive you’ve noticed he’s being a lot more introverted than usual.

He’s pissed at how much his heart is racing, and he can feel the heat on his cheeks as he looks at you. He doesn’t respond at first, he feels like he can’t find words, not when he’s so distracted by how pretty your eyes look in the light and how your smile makes his head go crazy.

“ ‘M fine.” he mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee. Suddenly Yuji gets up, mumbling something about how him and Nobara need to go to right this instant to check out the store next door and would be back in a few minutes.

You’re not mad at the opportunity to be alone with Megumi for even a small amount of time, in fact you’re quite happy about it. But you could swear you saw Yuji give Megumi a small thumbs up as he left.

“You sure? You seem off today. You can talk to me ya know?” You continue, once they’ve left.

You notice Megumi's silence and the hint of a blush on his face. You gently reach out and place a hand on his, trying to silently give him some sort of support.

Megumi's free hands grip tightens on his coffee cup as he avoids your gaze for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, was he supposed to tell you now? Is that why Yuji gave him a thumbs up? How was he supposed to tell you, when he just figured it all out.

“Uh-Yeah I’m fine.” He takes a deep breathe, finally returning your gaze.“ I-I like hanging out with you ya know?” He manages to say.

“Yeah?” You’re a little taken aback by the randomness of his comment, but appreciative nonetheless. “Thanks. I like hanging out with you too. You’re different than the others. It’s nice.” you continue.

He realizes your hand is still on his. He looks down at it, then looks back up at you. The warmth of your hand on his is making his heart beat even faster, he thinks he’s even starting to sweat. It’s now or never, he thinks. “Well…also…I like you. So uhm…thought you should know.”

Your eyes grow wide as he says this. You’re not really sure how to respond right away. “You like me? Like we’re friends?” You ask, you weren’t sure if that was a confession of some sort or what it was.

“No like…more.” He says, his eyes are looking anywhere but at you. Until he sees you smile out of the corner of his eye and finally meets your gaze. His face doesn’t betray his feelings in any way, except for the pink on his cheeks.

“You-more?” you stammer…” I uhm-Me too- I mean…I like you too Fushiguro.”

“Cool.” Is all he says, he’s really unsure how to act. He’s not the best at expressing himself and now that it was out in the open he wasn’t sure what came next.

You notice his uncertainty and decide to break the tension. "You know, 'cool' wasn't quite the response I was expecting, but I'll take it." You say with a small laugh.

His lips curl into the slightest of smiles. "I'm sorry, I'm not really good at this stuff. But, I'm glad you feel the same way." He says, and realizing you’re still holding hands he gives you a slight squeeze. “Maybe we can- hang out sometime…alone?”

“Mhm I’d like that.” You reply with the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever seen. As you say that Yuji and Nobara return, and things go relatively back to normal. Although they both smile at each other as they are both aware of the fact that underneath the table, you and Megumi’s hands are still laced together.

taglist: @satorizz @cassiefromhell @withthegraceofthewind @chilichopsticks @leviismybby @rlvsmegumi @belfiguevel @nobody289x

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #jjk fushiguro

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Wild Nights || CL16 {4}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Voice claim: Ashe <- link to her Spotify here if you want to listen to the songs Summary: It's time to say goodbye to Monaco but not to Charles. Warnings: 18+only, phone sex WC: 2.4k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

You had arrived in Monaco heartbroken and angry but somehow some of those broken pieces had been glued back together in just a few short nights. Now, as you walked through the airport for your flight to Los Angeles you felt a different ache entirely. You were off on a new adventure and following your dreams, but it had come at a cost. 

You turned and blew one last kiss to Charles as he stood still in the busy terminal, a few people waiting patiently to get his attention and an autograph. He smiled sadly and pretended to catch it, holding it to his chest until you disappeared inside the security area.

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing,” you murmured to Bea as she hooked her arm in yours and kept you walking when your feet stopped moving.

“This is your dream and I don’t need to remind you that you can’t waste this opportunity. There aren’t second chances in this industry. You know it and he knows it.” She placed her bags on the belt to be x-rayed and you put yours behind it. “Stop doubting yourself.”

You stepped through the metal detector and jolted when alarms went off. The security guard pointed to your arm and you remembered the charm bracelet that Charles had clasped to your wrist before you left for the airport. The miniature race car hanging was a reminder of your time together and the empty spaces were the promise of more to come if your schedules allowed it. It hadn’t seemed like a big ‘if’ at the time but now you wondered if it was a gentle way of saying goodbye.

“Hello?” Bea asked as she waved a hand in front of your face. “Take it off.”

You swallowed down the emotion that had tightened your throat and fumbled with the clasp until she rolled her eyes and did it for you. “What’s got into you?”

“Nothing,” you uttered as you passed back through the machine without setting it off and grabbed your bags back from the x-ray. You couldn’t put the bracelet back on and felt the emotional weight of the thin chain heavy in your pocket. Bea was still looking at you oddly so you forced a smile on your face. “I’m fine.”

“Mhmm, you nearly put salt in your coffee. You can barely function.”

You groaned as you remembered tripping over your feet getting into Charles’ car. “It was just an early morning, after a late night.”

“Well get used to it, you’re going to live in the recording booth for the foreseeable future.”

“Speaking of, I have a few ideas. Here, have a listen.” You handed her an airpod and went through the recordings you had made with Charles last night. Her head bobbed along to the tune Charles had written on the piano while you played around with some word variations to see which worked best. 

“I like it,” she said with a grin. “Do you have more lyrics?”

You nodded, not needing to tell her that you were overflowing with them. Charles had been your inspiration and your muse all night as he sat beside you on the piano bench, his fingers dancing across the keys with a grace you were envious of. It was easy to imagine endless nights spent sitting right there, everything with Charles was easy - you were just two broken pieces that fit together to hide the jagged edges.

The lights on the plane had turned dark and Bea was fast asleep like most of the passengers as you crossed over the Atlantic Ocean but you had been unable to close your eyes. Your thumbs flew across the keyboard on your phone as words spilled like a torrent from your head and you looked through the collections of songs you had written. 

There was a clear definition between the ones that were written before you landed in Monaco to the ones on your mind now.

You only hoped the record label liked the direction your music was heading. The samples Bea had sent through were all snapshots of your heartache and regret but these new ones were going to show your healing. You weren’t sure what you would do if you couldn’t record them all to narrate the evolution of your growth and help you move forward.

Album Track Playlist: Side A: Moral of the Story Hope You're Not Happy Save Myself I'm Fine ft. Bea Side B: Love You Need Shower With My Clothes On Til Forever Falls Apart ft. Finneas Love Is Letting Go ft. Bea

You were so excited that you didn’t even think about the time when you called Charles. The bracelet on your wrist chimed since you couldn’t keep still and you ran your fingers over the charms he had added when he found time to stop in LA. You had even gone to Miami for the weekend when he was racing there and experienced the explosive atmosphere that he lived for, something that was so vastly different from his calm disposition.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It’s me, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The call dropped and a second later his name popped up requesting a video chat that you rushed to answer. 

“Is everything alright?” Charles asked, the side lamp beside his bed casting a warm glow across his bare chest as he sat up against the headboard.

“I did it,” you squealed as you held up the large vinyl album you had spent months working hard on. “I fucking did it!”

The sleepy glazed look in his eyes disappeared in an instant as he sat up straighter and leaned in to get a closer look at the album art, a proud smile bright on his face. “I knew you would, I never doubted you. Now can I finally listen to it in full?”

“Hold on,” you said as you crossed the room to the record player and showed him the two sides. “Before I met you or after?”

“What’s the difference?” he asked with a smirk since he certainly knew the answer after being a sounding board for your writing process during some very late night phone calls. 

“One is morose and dark, which is kind of your favourite to listen to when you are alone in your bed.”

“You know me so well, but I want to hear you happy.”

You flipped the album to the second side and put it gently onto the tray, carefully dropping the pin onto the edge. The speakers crackled to life before the opening track began, the piano intro sparking the memory of sitting beside him as he played the tune idly at 3am on a Sunday morning. 

You sprawled in the middle of your living room floor watching Charles as he listened to the song with you. It didn’t matter that it was after midnight in Monaco while the California sun blistered outside your window, for those precious minutes where he lay with you on the other side of the world, you were connected. 

His eyes closed as he absorbed it all and you could have believed he had drifted back off to sleep with the peaceful look on his face, but his fingers danced along invisible keys. Still, those green eyes would peek open with a smile whenever you harmonised along with some of the lines but he didn’t dare to say anything and disturb the moment.

One song merged with the next, then the next, until the needle reached the centre and started scratching. You flicked it off and let the silence wash over the room before rolling onto your stomach and propping your phone up, waiting to hear the verdict. 

Charles ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed deeply before he ran his finger beneath his eye and captured the glistening tear that spilled over his thick lashes. “Magnifique, chérie. Je suis tombé amoureux de toi.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “You made me lose my english.”

You buried your face in the cushion you had been resting your head on and smothered the scream of excitement you let out knowing he liked it. “Thank you, and I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It was worth it,” he said sincerely, “and I can sleep on the plane to Austin tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Same, unless you were planning to wear those assless chaps again,” you teased and he groaned at the reminder.

“They told me everyone was wearing them!”

“Maybe in a Texan strip club,” you laughed. “I think you nearly broke the internet.”

He settled back amongst the pillows and pulled one into his arms, hugging it tight. “I wouldn’t mind it breaking.”

You saw his eyes turn down and you sat up, bringing your phone closer to inspect him more closely. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said dismissively but you weren’t going to let it drop when there was obviously something on his mind.

“Charles, there’s no secrets between us, I know you better than I know myself,” you softly encouraged him. “Whatever is worrying you, you can tell me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his biceps flexing as he did, a nervous tick of his. “My contract runs out next season and this one has been terrible. What if we don’t improve?”

He sighed and the dejection broke your heart as you wished you could reach through the phone and hold him like he needed. Tomorrow, you promised yourself, tomorrow you would hold him and tell him what he always told you - that everything will work out exactly how it is supposed to be.

“I can feel my dreams slipping away, chérie, and I don’t know what to do. This is all Jules and I talked about, winning a championship with Ferrari, and I feel like I’m letting him down, and myself.”

“A lot can happen in a year, Charles, just focus on right now and keep trying your best, that’s something that is in your control.” You could see no amount of words were going to get through to him when he was stuck in his head like he was, so you tried for something different. 

You made your way to your bedroom and closed the door behind you, the sound of the lock clicking enough to draw Charles attention back to the screen. He sat up a little as you put the phone on your drawers giving him a full view of the room he had spent dozens of nights in, whenever he could schedule a layover between flights or have a few days break from work.

“I thought this might distract you,” you smirked as you began to push the straps of your dress off your shoulders, the material pooling at your feet. 

Charles bolted upright and shuffled back against the headboard as his chest rose with the deep breath he took. “You have my attention.”

“Do I?” you teased as you ran your fingertips over your collarbone and over the swell of your breasts still hidden by the lace of your bra. “You look a little sleepy, are you sure you don’t want to sleep instead?”

“You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned as threw the sheets back and pressed a palm to his erection.

“You drive me crazy, especially when I’m in bed all alone and missing your hands on my body.” You reached for the clasp of your bra and let it fall to the floor with your dress, sighing as you teased your nipples and imagined it was him. “What would you do if you were here, Charles?”

“Everything,” he said with a smirk as his hand started to slowly rub over the tented material of his boxer shorts. “I would start with your lips, I love how soft they are on mine. I would kiss every inch of your skin and taste you on my tongue.”

Your lips parted with a moan as the memory of his touch warmed your belly and your hands drifted lower, your thumbs hooking under your panties to slide them down your legs. “What else?”

“Fuck,” he echoed your moan and pushed his boxers over his hips before fisting his cock. “Get on the bed, chérie. I want to see you pleasure yourself.”

You practically floated to the bed on cloud nine and you knew you were already wet before you parted your legs for him to see. His heavy breaths reached you through the speakers as you dragged a finger through the warmth and glided it over your clit. 

“You make me feel so good, Charles. Nothing compares to you, my fingers can’t fill me like you can.”

His abs tensed as he tightened his grip and stroked himself faster. Your cunt clenched at the sight and you fucked yourself in time to his strokes. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut as your toes began to curl but you would daren’t miss a moment of watching Charles pleasure himself.

His chest rose and fell, his lips parted with soft pants as he ran the pad of his thumb over the bead of precum leaking at his tip, his other hand cupping his balls and gently squeezing them in time. You were so familiar with the sounds he made and you knew he was close, just like you were. 

The warmth in your belly was quickly spreading across your body and your back arched as it ignited into a fire that burned through you and Charles’ name tumbled from your lips. 

“Mon Dieu, t'es trop sexy,” he moaned as his entire body tensed and his cock throbbed, thick ropes of cum shooting over his abs. He shuddered as he squeezed out every last drop before sagging back against the headboard and sighing with relief.

“Better?” you asked with a giggle.

“Beaucoup,” he replied with a lazy smile, his body completely relaxed and his mind free for the moment from the worries that had burdened him.

“You’ve lost your English again.”

His chest bounced with a quiet laugh and he reached for a dirty shirt on the floor beside the bed, wiping his mess off his skin. “You have that effect on me.”

“I pride myself on it.” You saw his eyes starting to turn heavy and remembered it was the middle of the night where he was. “You should go back to sleep. I’ll see you in Austin.”

He was already starting to drift off as he snuggled back down in his bed and it wouldn’t have been the first time that the video call had stayed connected overnight. There were bad days when one of you needed that extra comfort of knowing you weren’t alone and it was the only way you could be there for each other. 

“Sweet dreams, Charles,” you whispered as he closed his eyes.

“I love you,” he murmured and you wondered if he would remember saying those words come morning light. Your stomach tied itself in knots as you hoped he did. 

“I love you too.”

Click here for part five.

Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen 

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Forever and Ever, Amen - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis. It's a cute song and it feels Bob coded imo. It's not a religious song other than the word "amen" being used.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 1k

Mornings were never particularly easy for you, but mornings before Bob had to leave for a mission were on the verge of unbearable. At the start of your relationship, they were less frequent, only a few times scattered throughout those first few months of the honeymoon period, spoiling you with plenty of opportunities to spend time together in the early stages. Now at the end of your first year together, it felt like Bob was gone every 4-6 weeks, sometimes just to come home and leave again a day or two later. 

You breathed a heavy, reluctant sigh as you hit snooze on your phone and rolled over to face Bob in bed, who was just reaching over for his glasses. He adjusted them on his face and hummed softly, almost looking defeated as he faced you.

“That time already?” He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, “I don’t want to go this time.”

“I don’t want you to go either, but I don’t think we get a choice in the matter, Bobby,” you sighed heavily as you turned on to your side, a frown forming on your lips as you looked at him. He shut his deep blue eyes for a minute and sighed.

“Alright, we have time for breakfast together first, right?” He said quietly, a strained smile on his face as he looked to you, trying to mask his sadness and frustration with his chosen line of work in this moment.

“Of course we do, you start getting ready, I’ll go make breakfast, yeah?”

Bob pressed his lips to your cheek in a loving kiss as he sat up, frowning as he looked out the window. You reluctantly got yourself up, padding down the hall to the kitchen, leaving Bob alone for a moment to collect his thoughts as he got himself prepared to go out again. The smell of fresh cooked bacon and eggs wafted through the house as you made breakfast for the two of you, the warm rays of the early morning sun came pouring through the window. 

Bob came up behind you, gently snaking his arm around your waist as you poured him a cup of orange juice. He pressed his nose into the back of your hair as he murmured a soft spoken “I love you”. You set the glass down on the counter before turning to face him, forcing a happy smile to hide the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes as you caught sight of him in his uniform khakis. You adjusted his name tag for him, nodding your head once as you brushed any lint off his shoulders. You breathed in the smell of his aftershave, cupping your hands on either side of his face as you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“There, now you look perfect,” You gave him a nod of approval as you handed him his glass from the counter.

“Wait,” He shook his head and laughed as he set the glass on the table, “I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise you what, exactly?” Your brows furrowed together into a frown that probably appeared more like a pout than mild frustration.

“Promise me you don’t forget that I love you?”

“What on earth kind of promise is that, Bobby? Of course I’m not going to forget.”

“Just promise me, ok? You’ve had to be without me a lot lately, and I feel bad, but I want you to always remember that I love you, and I spend the entire time thinking about how I want to come home to you.”

“Alright,” you nodded your head as you looked at your feet, blinking back tears as you took a breath to collect yourself before looking back up at him, “I promise.”

 “Good, don’t make me sing that song to you,” He flashed a bright grin at you before pressing his lips to your forehead in an affectionate kiss. 

“What song might that be?”

“You’re really gonna make me sing it, aren’t you?” 

“You betcha, Robert”

Bob let out a playful sigh as he grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate on the table and bit into it carefully, being mindful not to make a mess out of his uniform. He swallowed his mouthful and rolled his eyes before clearing his throat and breaking out into song. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna love you forever, forever and ever amen, As long as old men sit and talk about the weather–”

“As long as old women sit and talk about old men —” you chimed in, harmonizing with Bob as he sang.

“If you wonder how long I’ll be faithful, I’d be happy to tell you again, I’m gonna love you, forever and ever, forever and ever, amen”.

Bob smirked as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Happy now?”

“Mhmm, how long was it you said you’d love me for again?” You returned his smirking glance, biting your lip to hold back a giggle. 

“Forever and ever, baby.”

“That’s what I thought. If I ever feel like I’m forgetting, I’ll just listen to that song until I remember, deal?”

“Perfect,” Bob nodded his head as he kissed you again before taking his seat at the table, quickly tucking into his breakfast.

A half hour later, as you say your goodbyes to one another at the base, you wave to Bob and give him a smile, refusing to let him see you upset as he leaves. Bob wraps you in his strong arms, enveloping your body as he gave you a passionate kiss. 

“Remember, forever and ever, baby,” he whispered softly as he held you tight.

“Forever and ever,” Your voice echoing his as you gave a subtle nod, breathing in his scent and taking in as much of him as you could, committing it all to memory before letting him go for any stretch of time again.

“Forever and ever, amen,” Bob grinned.

#lt. robert floyd #lt. bob floyd #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #lt. robert floyd x reader #lt. bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd x ofc #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc

[jellyluvr]

Behind you

- Tate langdon x fem!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Thinking about writing some sad stuff. I love vagina commercials. Anyway this is just gonna be tate bein gross. (Kinda like divinelyruled's 'tate bein horny n gross' but there's no lube and he's watching you 😉😉

Tw: masturbation obvi, stalker type shit, some blood. Just a lil bit tho. And suggestive stuff but I mean that's not really a surprise?? 😭

S: tate likes watching u shower

Tate stood infront of the mirror, looking at his face as he began to see visions again. His eyes tricked him into seeing blood.. seeping down from his hair, dripping all over the sink... tates breathing quickened, and he began to panic. He still didn't have a good way of handling himself besides jerking off.. not that it was bad. He liked the euphoria.. the pleasure. Made 'm feel good.

- back to you -

You were on your bed, the velvet pillow propped under you as you began to kick your feet listening to the song. Coward - warthog. You liked the funky beat.. the rhythm. Your head bobbed, your mouth lip singing to the lyrics. You turned up your iPod, sighing with the freedom you now had. With your parents just moving it put you in a wonderful place. A place for opportunity. That's what your mom would say at least.

Not that you cared. You liked the 'murder house'. It was nice.. comfy. Your style too. You were always called emo, grunge, freakish.. and it was all because you had style? How disappointing. It made you wince. You hated thinking about how people hated you. You didn't even understand why either.. but, whatever. You were cool? What was stopping you from being the best version of yourself?

So, to keep yourself from rotting in boredom, you thought about taking a shower. Maybe even a bubble bath... that'd be too annoying to clean up though. So, shower. You turned off your iPod, getting out of bed as you adjusted your camisole. You began to walk, the creak of the floorboards giving you some accompaniment.

Tate was still having his minor breakdown in the mirror, but once he heard you approaching he held himself together. He was invisible to you. He never showed himself, but he of course knew who you were. He had his fair share of watching you sleep.. he may or may not have had a chunk of your hair, but that was besides the point. Tate backed up to the wall, giving you space to walk in.

Your feet hit the cold tile, and you face the mirror, looking at yourself, catching a glimpse of something behind you. Naturally, you looked, but there was nothing. You turned back, telling yourself it was just paranoia. The blinds were closed... it was pretty late but no one could see in. That's what you thought at least.

With that, you closed the bathroom door, making it the seal to tates accompaniment with you in the bathroom. Not that he didn't like it.. he loved it actually. He liked watching you study your facial features. Humming stupid lyrics.. he used to do that too. Before he died.

He sighed, watching you. He admired your every move. He loved you. It was true love. You'd like him. He knew it. He just needed time to.. prepare himself. Everyone always had a different reaction to him. But.. it never seemed to be happy. That was his goal with you. You were his little test subject. Not a puppet.. he couldn't control you. But he would.

His eyes watched your finger tips go to the hem of your camisole, it hugging your body tight as you pulled it up, showing your back in all glory. He looked in the mirror, admiring your chest. Once it was pulled of your head, his eyes were practically glued to your tits. He licked his lips involuntarily, feeling one of many sparks of arousal from you.

You began to pull your shorts down, not thinking anything of it. It was practically anything. Your mind was just stuck on what body wash you'd use. Marshmallow? Rosey..? Coconut? Pineapple would've been nice. You still didn't understand why that hadn't been made yet. But, either way, your mind traveled relevant things while you pulled your panties down, placing your clothes on the counter. You placed them away from the sink, avoiding any accidents.

Tate watched you walk over to the bathtub, watching your hips move perfectly. God... you made him almost twitch. His hand went to clutch his bulge, and he watched as you bent over slightly to turn the shower on, sticking your hand in to make sure it's warm. Even the slightest movements made him melt. He was so obsessed with you..

Your hand stuck in the water, goosebumps appearing on your skin from the coldness. You moved on your heel, waiting for the water to heat up. This old shower was horrible. Outrageous even. You hated having to wait so long for it, but thankfully the water heated up faster.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain forward as you looked down at your feet, your hair dampening. Soon, it got wet, and it almost looked like silk. You played with it for a moment, but you then turned to the options of body wash and just chose coconut. It was simple enough, plus it was summer. It was a summer scent, and quite relevant.

Tate had eventually moved his hands in his pants, his rough calloused palms moving up and down his shaft. Tate had moved to the side of the tub, just to get a good view. He watched you wash your body.. nice and slow in the right areas. His heart almost burst seeing your soapy body.. he wanted to fuck you so hard.. till you couldn't think. Till the only thing you cared about was his dick.

It was a shame you didn't even know who he was. But even not knowing, you sensed something behind you and where it could've just been chills you turned around quickly. But, of course, nothing. You decided to be a bit more quicker, avoiding closing your eyes from childhood fears. It could've been anything. Monsters were real. Just, they were human monsters. Like tate.

But, tate was a little disappointed. He wanted to scare you. To scar you for life. It wasn't like you had much time anyway. It was all he thought about. Blood.. carnage.. sex. Just the slightest thought of blood was a major turn on for tate. Imagining you covered in it made his cock almost feel too hot. Regardless, he continued stroking his shaft, stopping when there was too much stimulation.

While you had the idea of a short shower it wouldn't hurt to just touch yourself a little.. so when your hand slipped down to wash your thighs, you rubbed your clit with the soapy bubbles, gasping almost in the feel. It had been awhile since you touched yourself, but you sure did miss it. You bit down on your lip, your finger tip moving fast against your sensitive bud.

Tate soon realized what you were doing and his pace grew as his head threw back in pleasure. Even with the harshness of his speed he loved it. Watching the water cascade down your body make his climax come ever so slightly closer.

Your hand rubbed in between your thighs, but you eventually took it out sighing. Your parents were home.. what if they heard you? You couldn't do that. And with the paranoia growing you moved onto washing your hair. You lathered it, taking the time to brush it when there was a tangle. Once your hair was silky again, you turned off the water, immediately alarming tate. He had been so close he had closed his eyes, but now they were open, and he continued to touch himself.

He moved a little so he could see you better and his eyes watched as you stepped out of the tub. You had to have been some sort of godess.. so beautiful. He'd do anything to bury his face in your chest. He just wanted to make you feel good... that was all.

Tate thought of the most unholy things as you walked back to the mirror, being careful to not slip. You got a towel out and rubbed the steam off the mirror and began to dry off. You just stared at yourself. Your head turned every so often, but it was just because you felt off. So off..

And that was when tate finally finished. It wasn't much, he jerked off a lot so there wasn't much to dispose. But, his thoughts about blood and gore all washed away. His head went back as he panted, finally feeling the humidity to the room getting to him. He sighed watching you get dressed once more.

He really wanted to rip that off of you..

And while he watched, he pulled his hands out of his pants and walked over to you, standing right behind you.

♫⋆｡♪ ˚♬ ﾟ.

Kay that's all

Taglist: @tatelangdonsgirll @kaismanwich

Just comment or reply if you want to be added!

Not proofread either none of my fics are lol

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #tate ahs #tate x reader #american horror murder house #american horror story

[beelz-bub]

I keep seeing people complain about the lack of Prisjake fics on Ao3 and y'know just in general, sooOOOO I made one--

It's not on Ao3 because I don't have an account, I wrote this in ma notes app 💀💀

**Warning, I'm not really a writer, my stuff ass**

"Drunk and Stupid"

Jake visits Prismo's party to get his mind off something but goes a little too hard, worrying his friend. **Alternate Universe where Jake lives a lot longer, he's an older dude. For reference Finn is in his mid-20s.

Finn glared at his brother while tapping his foot impatiently. Jake lay motionless covered in his blanket, "Dude." he mutters, frustrated with his brother.

"Not now." A faint murmur came from his bed, if you could call it that. It was just an open drawer.

"Common man, you've been lying around for over a month!" Finn stepped over, shaking Jake on the shoulder, "Let's go out on an adventure dude! You need to get out of the house."

"No man." he waved his hand around in an attempt to shoo Finn away.

"Ugh, fine." he backed up to the window, "But I'm gonna bring you something to eat." he pointed at him angrily, then climbed down the ladder into the kitchen.

"Uh-huh..." Jake didn't move an inch.

Finn wandered around the kitchen in thought. The first thing that came to his mind was a sandwich, Jake loved them. He needed to make it good, only the best ingredients for his bro. He fiddled with his beard, then remembered they still had a few more Prismo pickles left. Reaching over to the cabinet, he was startled by a bright light. The pickle jar was glowing with all sorts of bright colors. Flashing and moving all around like stage lights at a concert. Confused, he decided to bring the jar up to Jake. Surely he knows what this means, besides, it'll at least get him out of bed. Couldn't hurt.

Finn carefully climbed back up the ladder, the pickle jar under his arm, still flashing, "Ugh," he plopped it down, "Hey Jake?"

"Mhm...?" he mumbled, barely moving.

"Do y'know what it means when Prismo's pickle jar is like all glowing colors and-"

"PRISMOOO!!" Jake threw off his blankets and hurried over to the jar, stretching out of the bed. He put his little paws on the lid, "Aw man, I should really answer this time." he sighed.

"What? Is it important," Finn climbed up, sitting down on the ledge and looking into the jar. The pickles danced around with the colors like it was a little pickle party in there.

"Nah man..." he rested his head on the jar, "He's inviting me to a party."

"Oh hey! There you go!" Finn lit up, "This is the perfect opportunity to get out of the house! Go let loose with your buddies man!"

"Guh... I dunno. I'm not really in the mood to party. I'll just be a bummer."

"Shove it, dude. You can at least see Prismo, he's a cool dude!" he stood up, "Just go. You're better off dancing around and drinking than laying in bed." he put his hands on his hips, the robot arm barely holding onto him.

Jake sighed, "Oh, alright." giving into Finn's demands. His paws held onto the sides of the jar, "Prismo I accept your invita-" Before he could finish, his form broke apart into several long rectangles, carrying Jake out of Ooo and into the entrance of Prismo's time room.

Bright flashing lights blind him the moment he enters Prismo's domain. The light forced Jake to cover his eyes for a second. As he stood there, he felt the beat of the song vibrate the ground under his feet. Walking inside he was met with an array of different cosmic and cursed beings drinking and dancing to music. The big man himself in the center, bobbing his head to the music.

Jake stretched down, walking past a few familiar faces, and exchanging short pleasantries, although he was mostly ignored. That was until he reached the far wall and made himself known to the host, "Prismo!!" he called out.

Almost instantly, Prismo stopped dancing and glanced down at his canine friend, "Jake! Wow, you came!" he was gitty, a huge grin stretched across his face.

"Hah, yeah." he rubbed the back of his head.

There was a short uncomfortable silence between the two, which unnerved Prismo, "Yo man, are you alright?" he said, far quieter.

"Yeah! Yes. I've just been uh... Going through a lot recently." he smiled to imply it wasn't a big deal.

Prismo frowned, shrinking a little to be on Jake's level, "Dude, if you wanna talk about it you know I'm here for you. We can go inside the cube if this is too much." he glanced at the party.

"Pshh-" he swatted at Prismo, "Whaaat?! No! I'm here to party! Gotta get my mind off things!"

"Ah-" Prismo backed off, "If you say so..." he pointed to the table, "I have snacks if you're interested, plenty of cheesy crackers!" he smiled.

"I'll take you up on that offer! Hehehe!" Jake made his way to the table indulging in all sorts of snacks and cracking open his first beer. Prismo continued to enjoy the party but kept a close eye on Jake. He felt like something was off. The fact that Jake was here to 'get his mind off things' was worrisome on its own. Partying can only do so much, and Prismo knew this.

Jake had chugged a beer, and then another all while dancing to the music. As he drank more and more, Jake would get more pushy as if it were a mosh pit. Prismo watched nervously, "Jake?" he called over, not getting a response.

After 8 more beers, chugged and slammed into his head, he jumped into the spa, splashing Cosmic Owl with all that hot water. Jake rose from the water and laughed hysterically while Cosmic Owl frowned, holding a cup of chips and pool water. Prismo was getting more and more frightened by Jake's behavior, "Dude! Step out, common!" he continued to ignore him, "Jake! Dude chill out-"

Prismo continues to beckon Jake to calm down or step away to no avail. The dog is preoccupied with getting totally wasted which is concerning him. Drink after drink, pushing around and roughhousing with other guests along with other stupid shit like jumping off tables and messing around with his stretching ability drove Prismo over the edge. Something was making him act out like this and Jake wouldn't calm down or listen. At his other parties, Jake would just hang out, eat some food, and maybe have a drink or two while resting in the hot tub. This time he was out of control.

In an act of desperation, Prismo teleported Jake out of the main room and into the cube. The shards of multicolored squares assembled Jake in an empty room inside the endless labyrinth making up the inner cube.

He jumped, still heavily drunk, "Wah- where a-am I?" he slumped to the ground, his limbs piling up together like spaghetti.

Prismo faded into the room, presenting himself on the wall in front of Jake, "Inside the cube." he sighed, "You were really going crazy out there dude!"

"Mwhas just enjoying myself! PRIS-MO!" he yelled, turning on his back, and getting tangled in his noodle arms. He kicked his feet around, "Send me BACK!"

"Jake. This isn't helping! You need to relax!" he conjured a pillow under Jake's head to make him more comfortable, "Just... Relax. Take a breath."

Jake took the loudest, most obnoxious breath he could muster before groaning, "OK!? N-now lemme back."

This was going nowhere, Prismo decided to speed up time for Jake to get him sober. The room felt like it was moving fast, like sticking your head outside a car. Prismo was unaffected, "Jake!" he exclaimed, a little frustrated with his friend.

"Ah-" it took a moment for his brain to catch up. He flipped over on his hands and knees, "Ughh... Ok, I'm ok! Oof," he stood up, wiping his face. His drunkenness has passed which pleased Prismo.

"Jaaake?" Prismo tilted his head, "Can we have a talk now?" he smiled.

"Yeah, yeah... Sorry for being such an ass. I'm just not in a good headspace right now man."

"Tell me about it! I'm worried about you."

"Alright." He stretched himself into a recliner, "I..." he held onto a breath, "Lady left me Prismo."

"What?!" He was genuinely caught off guard by this. Primo's assumptions weren't even close. He was speechless, sitting there while Jake lamented about his strained relationship.

"After the pups grew up, I dunno. It was like we drifted apart. I've always been out adventuring. I didn't even see the kids grow up. They grew up quickly. I changed a lot over the years and so did she..." he put a head into his hands, returning to his normal shape, "She just wants to take a break right now, but Prismo," he looked up, "I haven't seen her in months. It's eating me up inside."

Prismo frowned, thinking of some kind words for his friend, "Well, have you tried to see her?"

"No. She wants some space."

"Is that not why you two grew apart? Being away from each other for long periods of time?"

"I guess."

"Jake, you should try to see her. Even if it's just as friends! I'm sure if you two truly love each other it will work itself out! Things like this happen in relationships, it's normal. It's... Why I avoid them."

"Hm." Jake rubbed his face some more.

"Just try to talk to her! Maybe she wants you to reach out and make the effort!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He peeled his head away from his paw, sitting up, "Man Prismo, what would I do without you? You're literally the best!"

"Oh! hehe hahhaha~" he giggled, his hand covering his mouth, "Heh..." his figurative heart melted to the simple off-hand compliment.

"I'm serious man! You're like the coolest friend I have,"

"Mmm," Prismo smiled, a little bothered that he was just his 'cool friend'. Part of him wanted to go on and on about how he felt about him, but his friend was clearly in a tough spot. His feelings are being shelved for the time being, as they have been many times before. This was Jake's moment, he clearly loves his girlfriend still. Inserting himself will do no good. "I think you're pretty cool too Jake." he said gritting his teeth.

"You wanna go back and party? Chill style~" his arms curled around.

"Oh nahh, the party is probably over by now-"

"What??"

"I sped up time! Remember?"

"Oh yeeah," Jake started walking to the hole in the wall, assuming it was an exit, "You wanna just hang out then?"

"I would love that."

#prismo #prismo the wishmaster #adventure time #fionna and cake #jake the dog #Dont expect another fic #I'm anxious about my writings #Unless y'all like it then maybe #prisjake #Fic

[heartofwritiing]

Dance with me

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: you’re at a music festival with lovejoy, you and wilbur can’t help but be pulled together when a certain song from your favorite band plays.

authors note: I got inspired by this clip I think it’s from ash’s tiktok, its one of my favorite wilbur clips and for some reason the idea of dancing with wilbur at a music festival sparked within my weird little brain lmao. enjoy this quick fic as (i like to call them) my writers block is killing me ughh

warnings: none, just fluff, established relationship, reader is a member of lovejoy, very short, and unedited!

Sweaty bodies screamed around you, shouting back lyrics to the band that was preforming on the main stage you were just on hours before.

It was one of your favorite bands Arctic Monkeys. you still couldn’t believe you were here, only dreaming of performing on stage in-front of big crowds like this when you were little, putting on concerts in your living room for your family members. It was all thanks to the band you had joined a little over a year ago.

Lovejoy was looking for a keyboard player to only do live gigs. After some time and getting to know them more and more, watching them grow into their style and become best friends with all the band members. You had unofficially joined the group along with the other respective trumpet players joining on tour.

Now you were traveling the world, getting to see new places and having an experience like no other.

Wilbur and you had only met three years ago during quarantine, almost right away you knew he was the one. You had joined in on a call with a mutual friend to play some online game. since then, you had met in person several times, moved in together, joined his band, and the rest was history. Getting to travel the world with your partner was an absolute plus.

You rocked along to the rhythm of the guitars, the beat of the drums pounding through the speakers stimulating your brain. Ash and Mark, were standing to your right, bobbing along to the music with grins on both their faces.

Ash was filming the stage, panning around to show the camera Mark, who was watching the stage intently. Ash unexpectedly moved the camera to you noticing you looking at him and now was your opportunity to show off your goofy side. While still dancing, you started making faces, this caused Ash to hold back laughter.

You continued this, oblivious to the fact Wilbur was sneaking up behind you. You missed Ash's quick glance behind you, and a pair of arms came around your waist, pulling you flush against a person's chest. You let out a surprised yelp, you almost were about to elbow the person in the ribs for grabbing you but the smell of musky cologne flooded your senses. it instantly made you discover who it was. Ease came over you knowing it was Wilbur.

Taking a breath, a smile inched up your lips as he placed his chin on your shoulder and rocked you side-to-side to the beat of the music. You said nothing as you crept up your arms to rest on top of his, lacing your fingers together in a tangled mess.

Wilbur hummed as you leaned into his touch once the song ended, cheers erupted around you but soon died down due to the next song starting up with the rift of the gutair. Letting out an audible squeal you recognized the track, quickly spinning out of Wilbur’s arms to face him he saw the evident smirk on your lips as you took his hands in yours once more.

“Dance with me?” you asked playfully.

How could he say no to you? Wilbur noticed how your hips started to move with every beat of the drum, taunting him to move with you. Your eyes sparkled mischievously casting a spell and drawing him to your further.

Wilbur took your left hand and placed it on his shoulder. Then your other hand is in his. You felt his arm go around your waist and he began to move in a sway.

The crowd around you appeared to vanish. Having your arms around your lover was the only thing that mattered in your mind. He took you into a swinging step as the music got faster, and you wondered when the crowd had dispersed to make more room for you.

Wilbur spun you around quickly by the arm, causing you to trip over your feet. With a gasp, you collided with his chest. Giggles crawled out of your chests. He helped you stand upright as your eyes crinkled with happiness.

Your laughter died down, and he leaned his head to your level to press your foreheads together in a blissful moment of contentment.

Taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez

if you want to be added or removed let me know!

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #fanfiction #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #x reader #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #musicianbur x reader #musicianbur

[kentocee]

So Anxious • Gojo x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: smut( sexting, nudes, dirty talk, masturbation, gojo being unnecessarily horny for reader, impatient!gojo), slight humor bc gojo is VERY unserious 😭

Cee’s Note: I heard this song on tik tok and it instantly reminded me of Gojo (don’t ask) but I hope y’all enjoy

Song inspo: So anxious by Genuwine

[Minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead]

Satoru: Babe

Y/N: Yes?

Satoru: come thru ;)

**Delivered**

It was embarrassing the amount of times Gojo checked his messages to see if you responded to him.

Granted it only was a couple minutes but with his growing erection tightening his pants, his patience was running thin.

He knew you were at work but he was hoping you would be out already to help him with his little…problem.

Suddenly he noticed his phone lit up due to a notification and he nearly dropped his phone, fumbling to unlock it.

***

Y/N: im at work but I should be there in 30

Satoru: seconds? :D

Y/N: …

Y/N: minutes -.-

Satoru: :(

Satoru: :((

Satoru: thats too looooong :(((

Y/N: BYE! Ur so dramatic lmaoo

Y/N: ill be there before u kno it

Y/N: and then im all yours tonight ;)

Satoru: but I have a bit of a problem…

***

The tightness was becoming unbearable to the point where his print was visibly showing through his sweatpants. Suddenly it was as if a lightbulb appeared above his head.

***

Satoru: *image attachment*

Satoru: u see my dilemma

Y/N: OH

Y/N: O.O

Y/N: that’s a BIG problem alright

Y/N: it might be too much for me to handle

***

You were such a tease. Acting all innocent as if Gojo hasn’t had you folded like a pretzel on many occasions. But this was usually how it started. You feigned innocence and next thing you know Gojo would end up sending detailed messages on how exactly he planned to fuck you later on.

He knew this all too well, yet here he was falling for it yet again. Usually he was the one doing the teasing but the times when he was needy you were quick to seize the opportunity.

***

Satoru: my baby can handle it ;)

Y/N: and what if it doesn’t fit

Satoru: oh imma make it fit

Satoru: and u gonna take it like a good girl

Satoru: u gonna be a good girl for me?

Y/N: yes baby only for u ;)

***

“Sh-shit” Gojo groaned through gritted teeth, palming himself under his sweatpants.

The thought of him stretching your tight pussy to fit his size made his dick twitch subconsciously. He can just imagine the way your mouth would hang open and eyes widen as he bottoms out inside you. He can just imagine all the whines and moans through your pretty lips you make on his dick.

***

Y/N: how u want me to take it?

Satoru: want ur arms and legs around me

Satoru: want u so close to me

Satoru: wanna see ur pretty face wen I fuck u

Y/N: mmm can’t wait ;)

Satoru: i cant either

Satoru: need u so bad rn baby

Satoru: need to feel u

Satoru: need to hear your pretty moans in my ear

**Delivered**

All this dirty talk was just making him hornier by the second and he didn’t think he could wait much longer.

After a couple minutes, Gojo was once again checking his phone, anxiously waiting for your response. The longer he waited for your responses the more anxious he was getting.

After five minutes and no response, he knew you were still teasing him. Got him riled up and left him high and dry.

Oh how cruel.

His eyes wandered to the time almost as if it would go faster the longer he gazed at it.

“Fuck it”

Gojo slipped down his sweatpants and briefs, his cock springing out, bobbing slightly.

He closed his eyes and imagined his fist was your wet pussy. He started stroking himself at a desperate pace, trying to release what he’s been holding for what felt like hours.

The sounds of his low moans and wet sounds filled the air as he continued to chase his pleasure.

Just when he could feel himself reaching close, he heard a door opening from outside his room.

“Babe! I’m home”

Oh shit.

Gojo practically fell out his bed trying to pull his underwear and sweatpants back on.

When he finally made it out his room, he found you by the front door hanging your coat up and taking your shoes off.

“There you are! I told you I’d be home before y- TORU!”

Gojo had scooped you up and brought you over his shoulder, having your ass next to his head as your body dangled behind him.

Gojo brought his hand up and smacked your ass, “That’s for leaving me hanging earlier”

“I dunno what you mean”

He couldn’t see it but he knew you were smirking behind him. Oh you were gonna be in for it.

With that, Gojo ran to his bedroom with you over his shoulder. He was bout to make his imagination a reality.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo saturo #satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo

[eagerbby]

night moves | e.m

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| realistically, you can only run from your feelings for so long. being trapped at steve harrington’s lake house with eddie munson during the worst storm of the summer presents an interesting opportunity. 

an| just some late summer vibes. once again not canon, but i imagine it would take place after the events of season 4. lightly inspired by one of my favorite songs; bob segers ‘night moves’. 18+

warnings| 9k+ words, lots of angst in this one, drug use, jealous! eddie, skinny dipping if you squint, hand job, oral (male receiving), PnV (wrap it up folks), lots of fluff, light sub! eddie, light dom! reader 

You didn’t want it to seem like you were running away, because you weren’t. But you did need to escape the confines of Steve’s lake house before you went crazy. You needed to get high, which wasn’t an easy feat at the moment.

The late summer breeze rolled through the trees, cool against your damp skin. You wanted to enjoy the way the summer humidity faded into the night sky as the early tips of autumn shook the leaves of the massive trees covering the property. But every time you tried to light your bowl, the wind blew it right out. Extinguishing the flame instantly. Which led you to your current position, huddled under the gazebo next to the lake covering yourself with the hoodie you grabbed as you made your escape. The hoodie was the perfect block and you finally lit the bud in your precious purple glass bowl and took a long toke. You held the smoke in your lungs long enough to peel the gray material from your body, exhaling a plume of white fog as you sat down in the hammock that hung from the gazebos trusses.

The weed made your fingers tingle and you took a much needed deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Again and again until your shoulders eased and the tapping of your foot ceased. It had been a long couple days. 

When Steve approached you with the idea to gather the masses and go spend a week up at his lake house, you thought he was brilliant. The kids needed the escape, the ability to just be kids after the hell they’d gone through. When you asked who was all going to be there, Steve clammed up a little, offering you a quick, “Oh, you know. You, me, Robin, the kids.” before begging you to come. He didn’t have to beg, you were in the moment he started talking. 

But the day of, Steve arrived with a car full of kids, and Eddie Munson.

Eddie. Fucking. Munson.

It was almost enough to make you not want to go. Not because of Eddie, although he definitely played a role, but because you knew it was a set up. You knew by Robin’s manic smile and the way Steve couldn’t even look at you as you glared at him through the rearview mirror, smushed in the backseat between Dustin and Eddie. 

When you had arrived, you grabbed your friends by the collars of their shirts and pulled them to the side, away from the children and Eddie. 

“What the actual fuck?” You hissed.

“Whatever do you mean?” Robin was trying, and failing, to act perplexed by your annoyance. 

Steve came clean fast, never one to offer himself up to your wrath, snitching on Robin and Dustin. As much as you wanted to be surprised, you weren’t. Robin had snooped through your journal so often she could probably write a book about your life, and Dustin, well he looked at Eddie like he put the moon in the sky. Eddie was his idol, his mentor, and Dustin was nosy. He’d over heard you and Steve one night and had refused to let the little tidbit he found out that night go. Much to your chagrin.  

Steve begged you to be nice, which you were offended by, because you were nice. A little rough around the edges, but definitely nice. Robin, on the other hand, might as well have been rubbing her hands together menacingly. You could see the cogs turning in her head. Her master plan finally coming to fruition. 

The first night was easy, the ten of you sitting around the fire roasting marshmallows, swimming in the lake, Steve telling the worst ghost stories you’d ever heard. Of course ghost stories were nothing in comparison to what all of you had already lived through. You fell asleep next to Robin that night listening to the crickets chirping and the wind through the leaves. 

Day two, you wavered just slightly. You woke up alone, the house oddly quiet. It gave you the chance to smoke, take a shower, and eat something with a little more substance than pizza and s'mores. When you finally walked out onto the front porch you could see your group splashing in the lake, the sun bright and warm. And then you heard it.

It was soft, just the simple strumming of the guitar. You followed the sound blindly, barefoot against the cool wood of the wrap around porch. It didn’t take you long to find him, but it sure did knock you a little breathless at the sight of him. 

He was sitting against a wooden pillar, one long leg hanging off the side of the porch, his acoustic perched on his lap. He was wearing shorts, which was rare, and his Hellfire Club shirt. Admittedly, it was a weird outfit choice but it was undeniably him. He had his eyes closed, not even watching as he strummed the chords of a song you instantly recognized. It was his guilty pleasure song. A song he’d rather go to his grave than admit he liked. But here he was, lazily swinging his leg and smiling softly to himself.

You thought, for a split second, about going over to him. Sitting down cross legged in front of him like you used to. Back when you were a part of his life. But you hadn’t spoken to Eddie in a long time. Things were different. So you walked away from him, much like you had almost a year before. 

Day three and four were full of awkward exchanges and sideways glances. It didn’t take long for the kids to realize something was amiss. The tension every time you two were in the same vicinity was palpable. 

Day five, you came to the realization that everyone was in on Robin’s masterplan. Everyone, except you and Eddie. The two of you were teamed up at every chance possible. It started innocently enough, but soon it became glaringly obvious. You tried to roll with it, refusing to be the reason the week was ruined, but it wasn’t easy being around him. Looking at him proved difficult enough, but being able to smell him, to physically feel his presence, it was starting to unravel you. Especially after the two of you won a game of fruit punch pong and Eddie scooped you off your feet in a victorious hug. It had sent lightning zinging through your body. But then he all but dropped you to your feet. You stood like a statue as he scratched at his head, avoiding looking at you. You could hear the snickers from the kids, see the way Robin smiled proudly. 

Day six came a storm so bad it flooded the driveway separating the property from the main road. Steve promised that that water would rescind soon enough, that you’d only be here a couple extra days. The kids didn’t care, but you felt that knot in your gut. That anxiety at not being able to leave. You all spent the day inside, watching movies and playing board games. Listening to Eddie play guitar and the kids have an impromptu karaoke battle. It was still raining on day seven, and Steve left Eddie in charge as you, him, and Robin walked down the muddy path to the end of the driveway. Except the entire bottom half was completely covered by a steady stream of water. Too deep to drive through. You were stuck. The three of you arrived back to the house with the news, dripping on the porch like a couple wet dogs with mud covered paws. The kids cheered. You and Eddie shared a fleeting, knowing, look.

So here you were, a day after you were supposed to leave, high and alone as thunder rolled in the distance. You could feel the rain coming in, that slight pulse in your foot, the telltale sign of a storm rolling through. Eddie always thought you were crazy when you told him your foot told you it was going to rain. But that small ache in the bone that you had broken back when you were in middle school was never wrong. 

The day had been spent taking advantage of every brief moment of peace from the rain. Steve was being his normal self, which was a total mom, refusing to let the kids out unless they promised to stay out of the mud puddles. Made them go down the row, one by one, saying “I promise not to play in the mud.”, until every last kid had said it. When he finally opened the front door to let them out, they ran out like a herd of bulls, straight for the mud. Steve had the audacity to act surprised, waving his hands and stomping his feet as the kids defied him. 

What a shock. 

Robin and yourself were doubled over, laughing so hard not a sound was heard until you both were gasping for air. Eddie chuckled and clapped his hand over Steve’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment before he followed after the gaggle of children, sparring with Dustin whose face was mud brown and cakey.

After showers and a dinner of spaghetti, which you cooked, everyone gathered in the living room. Mike had not so casually suggested a game of truth or dare. You were forced to play. It was fine. Fun even. Lucas dared Steve to lick the bottom of Robin’s foot, which he did, but not without gagging and whining the whole time. 

Dustin was determined to make everyone miserable, dare or not. Two fights had almost broken out between the boys. Once when Dustin dared Mike to eat the very questionable pickles in the back of the Harrington fridge. The problem? Mike hates pickles and swore up and down that he was “very susceptible to food poisoning”. Dustin called bullshit. No pickles were eaten. The second time, Will chose the truth. The question was something about Will purposefully losing the last DnD campaign, which started a whole, very heated, argument. That ended when Steve screamed at everyone to shut up before bopping Dustin upside the head. “Quit being a butthead.”

When it was Eleven’s turn to ask a question, she turned towards you with her big golden brown eyes. She was so innocent. So sweet. You picked the truth, just to appease them since you really didn’t want to play, and she thought to herself for a second and asked, “Have you ever been in love?” 

It was almost like a movie, the way every head in the room had snapped towards you, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t speak at first, pretending like you were seriously thinking about it, while trying to calm your creeping anxiety. You could feel Eddie staring at you like the others, watching the way you shifted on the beanbag you sat on. All that time you two had spent together, those words were never said. But you felt them. Had felt them from the moment he had laid his head on your shoulder that night in his van when he picked you up because you just couldn’t be at home anymore. 

“Yeah, I’ve been in love..” You looked directly at El as you said it, absolutely refused to look anywhere else. It wasn’t an obvious admission, but to the few people in the room that knew, you might as well have sung it from the rooftops. El had smiled at your answer, unaware of the dam she had just shattered, and the game went on. You sat there for another couple rounds before it felt like you were gonna crawl out of your skin. You excused yourself, power walked to your shared room to grab your weed, and grabbed the hoodie off the hook as you raced out the door. 

You didn’t have high hopes that it’d be easy, but you never thought it’d be this hard. Things ended badly between you two. After that night, when he almost died, Eddie was a different person. You understood how hard it was on him. Coming back from the Upside Down irrevocably changed. Injured and still wanted. You stood beside him as he healed, as he and Hopper fought to clear his name. But you felt him pulling away. Could feel yourself losing him no matter how hard you tried to hold on. Then that night, when he told you he couldn’t do it any longer. That whatever you two were, was over. You thought, okay maybe he just needs space. So you gave it to him. Waited around for him to call. Days turned into a month and then another. You knew what he was up to, because despite removing you from his life, he was still friends with your friends. Hanging out, playing gigs at the Hideout, getting high with Robin next to the dumpster behind Family Video. It became all too real. He didn’t need space. He just didn’t need you. 

The rain was pouring down in sheets as you sat in the hammock, nursing your bowl easily now that the wind had shifted. It felt good to be high. To feel the electrified numbness take over your senses. Thunder rumbled in the distance and you swung happily, relishing in the wet smell of the earth, in the swell of the breeze and the occasional cold drop of rain on your toes. You loved storms. Felt like you had one living in your chest. You’d become good at masking the pain of being tossed aside. Leaving it to brew like black storm clouds in your heart. 

You had never put a name on your relationship. You were just friends. Friends who spent maybe a little too much time together. Friends that bonded over music and shitty parents. Friends who fooled around while high or drunk but acted like nothing happened when sober. It was a little confusing, but you grew accustomed to the mystery of it all. It was you and Eddie. That’s the only title it really needed.    

There were moments during the week where things felt like they used to. But then you’d lock eyes with Eddie and the fantasy would come crashing down around you. You couldn’t ever read the expression on his face in those moments. You could tell something was simmering under the surface, but you couldn’t make it out. Your doubt said it was disdain mixed with a little hatred. Your hope said it was longing. That’s why you had to get out of there. The storm clouds in your chest crackled with lightning the moment you said what you did. 

Yeah, I’ve been in love.

He was sitting in that very room. Watching you say what you’d been too scared to. You grew up thinking love was a hopeless, fickle, thing. You swore it off completely. But Eddie had weaseled his way in, made himself at home. 

And then ripped it right out from under your feet. 

Yet stupidly, those feelings still remained. So maybe the weed could bury them back down. At least for the night.  

“Are you alive?” No such luck. 

You raised your heavy head to peer up at the voice. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, but it was a pleasure to see him standing in front of you with his curls all wet. 

“I’m alive. Just high.” You said into the wind. 

“Shit you have weed? I ran out four days ago.” He shuffled closer, eyes darting from the bowl in your hands to your red eyes. That’s a pretty long time for him to go without, so you reach your hand out, offering the bowl to him as you swung to and fro.

“Really? Shit, thanks.” He takes your offer quickly, taking the bowl and holding it to his plush pink lips. You could still remember the way they felt against your skin. The memory made you shiver. 

The two of you stayed in a peaceful silence, passing the bowl back and forth. Your fingers would brush every other pass, his fingers cold against the palm of your hand. It was exhilarating. You missed his touch so much it made your chest heavy. After a while you heard your names being called. Couldn’t quiet the disappointment as you sighed loudly, struggling to leave the hammock. The two of you walked the cobblestone path back to the porch, lingering on a look as you were pulled your separate ways. You went with Robin to the kitchen, Eddie with Dustin to the living room. 

You laid in your bed next to a snoring Robin, hours after everyone had gone to sleep, rubbing the path his fingers had taken on your palm. You could still feel him, the lingering tickle of his skin against yours. Your ability to keep your distance from him was dissolving, fluttering away on butterfly wings every time you caught him watching you with furrowed brows and his big doe eyes. You missed him. Missed him so badly you hated yourself for it. Because you shouldn’t miss someone who threw you to the side without a second thought. 

Maybe you were a glutton for punishment. 

—-

“So what, you’re just gonna stay out here all night?” 

Steve tossed you another pillow, which you fluffed before placing it on the makeshift bed you’d been building in the gazebo for the past hour. The sun was setting, tinting the cloudy sky in shade of red and orange. You had spent the day curled up in the hammock, watching the kids splash around in the lake. Steve and Robin had joined them, getting too competitive at chicken and marco polo, while you read the book you had forgotten you’d packed. 

Eddie had taken up camp just in front of you. Six feet away. Laying on the ledge of the gazebo in only a pair of shorts hung so low on his hips you could trace the hill of his hip bone with your eyes. He’d brought his guitar out with him again and a very worn copy of Dante’s Inferno. He touched neither, instead he laid there for hours with the sun casting bright warm rays against his pale skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the pages of your book but your resolve wasn’t the strongest. You couldn’t stop yourself from peeping at him from behind your paperback. The black widow tattoo next to his collarbone, the demon just underneath it. His chest was a little more defined, his soft tummy a little firmer, the trail of dark hair leading to his thick pretty co-

Snap out of it. 

You weren’t trying to objectify him, but when he looked like *that, you couldn’t help but to stare. To roam your eyes over every expanse of skin you could see. You were looking at him like a whore, clenching your thighs together and growing wet at just the sight of him. He never failed to make you horny. He could simply place one of his big, calloused, ring covered hands on your thigh and you’d be wetter than the amazon.

He caught you at one point with your book held against your chin, teeth biting into the flesh of your lips. Your eyes had been focused on the slight bulge in his pants. He wasn’t hard, just big, and it made your mouth water remembering the way the heavy head of his cock tasted in your mouth. Your eyes snapped to his when he cleared his throat and you hurried to stuff your nose back in your book, absolutely petrified that he caught you.

“I’ll be fine, Steve. The house is right there.” You busied yourself in your task, ignoring the sound of Eddie’s white Reeboks as he walked past with Max. “Look, if I have to sleep next to Robin, the Snore Queen, one more night I might smother her in her sleep.” 

Steve laughed at that, walking over to the lattice walls of the gazebo and turning on the fairy lights. 

“It looks good.” He said, standing next to you to admire your work. “What if it rains?” 

“I tested that theory last night. I’ll stay dry as long as I stick to the middle.” 

“Is the hammock gonna be in your way? I can take it down.” He offered, moving to do just that, but you held his elbow and shook your head. 

“No, I’ll probably end up using it.” 

“Mm, okay. Robin’s gonna have a cow that you’re leaving her, you know.” Steve nudged you with his elbow as the two of you made your way up the cobblestone towards the house. 

“She’ll live. She can always bunk with you.” You smiled at him when he turned to you with a glare. 

“What, so I can deal with Miss Snores a lot, no thanks.” The two of you laughed together. 

“To be honest, I just want to get really fucking stoned and relax in peace.” 

“Well, I’ll try to keep all the children contained so you can get some much needed alone time.” Steve held the door for you, waving his hand for you to enter first. You offered him a curtsy, turning back towards him as you entered. 

“You’re such a good dad.” He rolled his eyes at this, shoving your shoulder lightly. You tossed your head back in a laugh, your favorite pastime was bugging the shit out of Steve. 

Eddie was quiet the rest of the night, seemingly irritated if the drag of his fork against his plate was any indication. You could feel his eyes on you every time you talked to Steve. Catching him in your peripheral with his jaw clenched, his head low but his eyes locked onto you. He was jealous, you could tell. He was always jealous over how close you and Steve were. He told you once he couldn’t understand how Harrington had never made a move with the way you threw yourself at him. But you weren’t doing that, your feelings for Steve had always and would always be platonic. You were just a touchy person when it came to your friends. 

It was wrong the way his jealousy made you dewy between your thighs. Eddie was a protective, maybe a little possessive, person when it came to those he cared about. So it was definitely wrong of you to laugh a little harder at Steve’s jokes. To run your fingers down his arm as you talked about him getting a tattoo. It was just a fun little game, a cruel but fun one. He had no right to be jealous. 

He left you, remember? 

But then his chair scraped across the hardwood floor so loudly it made everyone jump and he stormed out of the dining room leaving his food mostly untouched. You felt it, that disgusting guilt in the pit of your stomach. The kids were confused, watching after him and calling his name, but you all heard the way he stomped up the stairs to his room. It wasn’t until the chatter of the kids resumed that Steve leaned over and whispered into your ear, “Is that what you wanted?” 

“What?” You whispered back, Steve rolled his eyes.

“You were so obviously trying to make him jealous, even I noticed it.” 

“I was not.” It was easier to just deny it. 

“Whatever,” He hissed. “Just go up there and fuck each others brains out already. I’m over this whole will-they-won't-they shit. You two obviously still like each other. You just need to get over yourself.” 

You just need to get over yourself.

His words played on repeat through the rest of dinner. They still echoed through your brain as you helped build a giant blanket fort in the living room for the kids. Eddie never came back down and when you walked by his room on the way to yours you could hear the sound of music blaring through his Walkman. You stopped at his door, hand hovering to knock, but thought better of it. You were wrong for what you did, but that didn’t mean you wanted to apologize.

After grabbing your things and saying goodnight to the group in the living room, you made your way back to the gazebo. It was pretty and you felt a sense of pride at it. The hammock blew softly in the breeze and your makeshift bed was dry and warm, the whole space lit up by the soft orange glow of the lights hung around the space. You should have done this earlier, maybe you would have gotten some decent sleep. As much as you loved Robin, sleeping next to her was next to impossible. But out here it was just you and the crickets. The soft twinkling of windchimes off in the distance. No one could see you nestled under the blankets, your book in your hands. You caught yourself a mild high, just enough to feel the buzz under your skin but not too much that you couldn’t focus on the winding romance you followed from page to page. 

You lose track of time deep in your book, but you hear the sound of shoes against the path, hear the heavy exhale as they stop at the steps in front of you.

“Uh, hey.” It’s Eddie, dressed in his usual black jeans and shirt combo, but he’s wearing a red flannel now. He looks pretty, and tired. 

“Hey?” It’s more of a question as you set your book down next to you. 

“Do you, uh, do you have any more weed?” 

“I do.” 

“Mind sharing? I could really use it right about now.” 

You pass the bowl to him, watch him take a long hit and hold it deep in his lungs. The breeze takes the smoke as it billows out his mouth and in the distance thunder rolls. Just like the other night, you two pass it back and forth in silence until you can’t take watching him shift around uncomfortably. 

“You can sit, if you want.” You said as you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. He lingers for a minute before kicking off his shoes and crawling in next to you. Your heart beats a little faster as he makes himself comfortable, his shoulder grazing yours as he does so. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled, taking the bowl back from you.

“Yeah, of course.” 

He goes to pass the bowl back to you, but you hold up a hand, telling him to finish the bowl pack. You’re watching him, not even being secretive about it. Fuck that. You didn’t care anymore, not when he looked this fucking good doing something as simple as smoking weed. 

“Hey, Eds?” He almost snaps his neck with how fast he turned to look at you. It was the name. Eds. You were the only person that ever called him that. You could see him shiver under your heavy stare. 

“Yeah?” He was unsure, eyes a little wider than usual. 

“I’m sorry I was so clingy, after- well you know- after everything that happened.”

He looked confused, so you went on. 

“But I wish you could have just told me you didn’t want me around anymore. It really hurts that you just dropped me like I meant nothing to you.” You were fiddling with your fingers now and he watched, aware of your nervous ticks. 

“Bunny,” His nickname for you. It used to drive you crazy when he called you Bunny, but you couldn’t help but relish in it at the moment. “It wasn’t you.” 

“Huh?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought I was fucking helping you, Bunny. When we came back to Hawkins, all I wanted was to be with you but I was fucked up and everyone thought I was a fucking serial killer… I thought if you stayed with me you’d end up resenting me.” 

“They cleared your name, Eds.” 

“Yeah, and yet I still get dirty looks and yelled at in town. Not everyone believed I was innocent. Especially not your parents.” 

“My parents?” Of course they had something to do with it. 

“They came into Family Video one day, told me if I didn’t break it off with you that they’d keep your college fund from you. That they would disown their own daughter. I- Bunny all you ever talked about was getting the fuck out of Hawkins, if they did that you’d never be able to leave. I couldn’t let that happen. You were gonna leave me anyways, go off to college and get your dream job. I felt like I was just holding you back.” His eyes were searching your face as he finished, looking for a reaction before you could even process the words he said. 

“Eddie, you should have told me.” 

“You wouldn’t have listened to me. I wasn’t gonna be the one to take that away from you.” 

You laughed darkly, looking out over the pitch black lake. “Eds, they took the fucking money away from me anyways. I crashed my dad's car while driving out to Forest Hills a couple months ago. Completely totaled it. It was never about you, Eddie, my parents are fucking horrible. They were just waiting for a reason to take that money back. I think they’re gonna use it to get divorced.” 

“What? Were you hurt?” His whole body is turned towards you now, searching every inch he could see for any sign of injury, as if it had just happened. 

“I broke my wrist.” You held it up in front of his face and he gingerly took it between his large hands, tracing the small scar with his thumb. “I’m fine now. I’m surprised the peanut gallery didn’t tell you.” 

“I asked them not to tell me about you.” He said softly, gauging your reaction to his words. “It hurt too much to think about you out there without me.” 

 “You can be really dense, you know that?” He gives you a look you can’t help but giggle at. “I’ve missed you, Eddie.” 

“Have you?” He asked, hands still holding your wrist. “Couldn’t tell. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague since we got here.” 

“Can you blame me? You broke my heart.” The words escape you before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you know he meant it just by the sad expression he wore, his frown almost upsetting. He was so pretty when he smiled, it almost killed you to see him frown. 

“S’okay. I’m okay. It was hard but I got over it.” Lies. 

“I heard.” That stops you in your tracks and you squint your eyes up at him, suspiciously. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“What? Nothing. I just heard that you’ve been dating, s’all.” 

He heard you’ve been dating? From who?

“Yeah, thought you didn’t keep tabs on me?” 

He shrugged. “Dustin lets things slip.” 

“Dustin’s a child. He thinks he knows more than he does.” 

He nodded. “So you aren’t going out with Chris Younger?” 

Fucking Dustin. That nosy little punk. 

“I wouldn’t call it going out.” You said, cocking your head to the side. The orange glow made his eyes look lighter, a more honey brown, but the clench of his jaw was unmistakable. 

“What would you call it then?” He asked slowly, each word spoken like he was forcing them out of his mouth. 

“Eddie…” It was a warning. You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“Bunny.” It was a firm order of your nickname; he wanted to know.

“I fucked him senseless and never called him back.” 

There it was, the flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw so tight you feared it would lock up, and his eyes so narrowed all you could see in the dim light was his black pupils. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear, Eddie? That I fucked him in the backseat of his car? That I let him call me baby as I rode his cock?” You were getting a rise out of him. He shook his head and looked away from you, his hands balled up in fists in his lap. His anger wasn’t enough to shut you up however. You had him right where you wanted him. So you grabbed his chin with your fingers and pulled him into you, your breath fanning over his face.

“Or maybe you want to hear about how I imagined he was you the whole time. That I called him by your name as I came. Because it doesn’t matter who it is, no one can fuck me as good as you can, Eds.” 

You kissed him before you could think twice about it. Kissed him so hard he gasped, toppling onto his back in surprise, his hands coming up to hold your face to his. You bit his lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he moaned. You were never the one to take the lead, that had always been his job, but you weren’t gonna be submissive to him this time. He had to earn that. 

You pushed him until he was propped up against the pillows, looking all pretty with his hair splayed over the pillow and his cheeks all red. Crawling onto his lap, you sat right on his hardening cock, feeling the bulge so clearly through the thin fabric of your shorts. 

“Tell me, Eddie. Use your words. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Bunny.” He only whispered as he gazed up at you. 

“Bunny.” You mocked him, pouting over exaggeratedly down at him, before an evil thought crossed your mind and you ground your hips down onto him. Your clothed pussy dragging up the length of his hard cock. His hands clapped down on your waist, seizing a hold of your hips with bruising force. He moaned. Long and languid, his eyes falling shut and his mouth parting wide. 

“Eddie, focus.” You teased him, grinding against him even harder. Even slower. Circling your hips on top of him at such an agonizing pace it drove even you crazy. 

“I can’t.” He whined, eyes still pinned shut, his heartbeat pounding through his chest underneath the palm of your hand. 

“I want an answer, Eddie. Is that what you wanted to hear?” His hands flew from your hips to pull at his hair. You could tell how hard you were making this for him. He didn’t want to say it. To say that it made him hard thinking about you cumming over some other guys dick while you screamed Eddie’s name. It made him furious, but it also made him throb. “Say it, Eddie.”

“I-I can’t.” He cried out, slamming his fists down onto the blankets underneath you two. 

“Okay.” It was all you said before you removed yourself from him, kneeling between his spread legs instead. His eyes sprung open at the loss of you, propping up on his elbows with a cute little frown.

“Why’d you stop?” He pouted, reaching out for you with his ringed, greedy, fingers. You swatted him away as he pulled at your shirt, giving him your best disapproving look. Inside, though, you were a live wire, crackling with electricity. 

“I’m not gonna give you what you want unless you answer me.” You stated. Eddie groaned. 

“Why does it matter, Bunny?” 

“Because it does. Because for months I waited for you to come back and you never did. Because I had to sit there and listen to Steve talk about Heather Mott coming into the fucking video store every week just to flirt with you. Because I couldn’t *stop thinking about you taking her out to lovers lake and fucking her in the back of your van like you did with me.” 

Your chest heaved with every breath you took, spilling your heart out to him as he sat there and looked at you with those big brown eyes that you loved so much. You needed him to say it, because you couldn’t be the only one suffering through your separation.

“Bunny… Dustin didn’t tell me about you and Chris.” He paused, shook his head, and laid back down. His eyes burned holes into the rafters of the gazebo. “I saw you two, at the movies. He had his hand on your thigh and you were whispering to each other and I stood there and I watched you kiss him. It felt like shit seeing you like that with someone else. So I left, went into the parking lot and punched a dent in the side of my van.”

There it was. You had felt like you were going crazy, knowing he didn’t need you but still beating yourself up with the thought of his hands on someone else's body. It certainly wasn’t healthy. But knowing he felt it too made you feel a little less alone.

Your fingers began unbuckling his belt, pulling the leather through the loops and tossing it to the side. Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stalling your work on his zipper.

“Bunny, w-what are you doing?” Once again you swatted at his hands, grabbing him by his wrists and pinning them to his sides. 

“I’m gonna suck your cock and you’re not gonna touch me until I say so, understood?” 

Eddie was visibly shocked by your words, but he still nodded his head and laid as still as he could as you pulled his jeans down his legs. His cock sprang free, laying against his stomach, precum dripping down the sides of its head. You wanted to lick it all up, savor every drop. But then something else caught your attention.

“What, no boxers?” It was only a tease as you worked his jeans off his strong legs. Eddie shook his head, cheeks heating in a blush of embarrassment. 

“Ran out.” He grunted, watching your fingers dance up his shaft. 

“Of course you did. Let me guess, you didn’t pack enough?” You wrapped your hand around him fully as you spoke, following the shaky inhale he took at the feeling with lustful eyes. You bit your lip as he arched into your stroke, pressing his head back into the pillows with a groan. 

“No,” He said after wetting his lips, his mouth dry. “No, I… I just went through them fast.” 

You narrowed your eyes at this, stroking your thumb over his wet tip. “How’d you do that, Eds?”

“Ah shit, that feels- fuck, I-I��ve been jerking it like crazy since I ran out of weed.” A funny feeling grows in your chest at his words, a wide smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You continued the slow caress of your thumb to his most sensitive part as you leaned back on your heels a little, offering him a naïve look. 

“Whatchu been thinking about, hmm?” He met your look with one of his own. It was an attempt to look irritated at what he thought was such an obvious question. He knew you knew. But that look wouldn’t hold, not with you swiping the precum from his slit before smoothing the salty taste down your tongue. Because you already knew the answer. You fucking knew. 

“Y-you, Bunny. I was thinking about you. I always think about you.” His voice falls off at the end, if you weren’t paying such close attention to him you probably wouldn’t have heard it. But you did, and it sends heat right to your core. His hands shake at his sides.

“What am I doing, in these thoughts of yours?” You flatten your tongue against his tip, keening at the way his brows knit together and the way the head of his cock is warm against your tongue. 

“Can’t tell ya. S’too dirty for me to say.”

“I already know you’re a dirty boy, Eddie.” You wrapped your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks as you coaxed him into your mouth. You took him as far into your throat as you could, gagging on his thickness. You weren’t sure if it was the sound you made or the feeling that got him, but as you pulled up his length his hands sprung to your head. He didn’t force you back down, no, he grabbed your head and stroked your cheeks gently. Peering up at him you found he was gazing down at you so intently, so much affection radiating off him. He broke your rule, but only to silently thank you. 

“That feels incredible, Bunny.” Another gentle stroke of your cheek before he lays his hands back down at his sides, allowing you to continue your trail up his shaft. 

You go back to the task at hand; slowly unraveling his wits with your hot wet mouth and tongue. Eddie was getting more talkative, a sure sign he was close, and you didn’t want that yet. He wasn’t allowed to cum yet. One last swirl around his tip, his hands found your elbow and you pulled away from him fast. His hands blindly followed after you, reaching out into the orange glow around you. You were already on your feet when he sat up, his hard cock bobbing as he shuffled forward. 

“Wh-where are you going?” His voice was strained, his face pinched together. 

You pulled your shirt over your head, looped your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs. 

“Skinny dipping. You coming?” 

“What? Bunny, I was so close.” 

“I know. You can wait though.” You tried to hide your smile while taking off your bra and throwing it into his face. “Now, are you coming?” 

“I’m trying to.” He was starting to whine and you felt so powerful. Loved the way he looked ready to get on his knees and grovel for you. “What if someone sees?” He asked, eyes taking in your bare body, his own hand now wrapped around his cock. You push his hand away with your foot, tsking at him. 

“Stop that.” You chastised. “And no one will see, with the day they had they’re probably all asleep. Come on Eddie, don’t you want to see me all naked and wet?” 

“You’re already dripping wet.” So he noticed. The slick between your legs was starting to trail down your thigh, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable. 

“Come. Don’t come. It’s your choice.” With that you sprinted to the dock, ignoring him calling after you as you jumped. The warm water swallowed your whole, caressing your heated skin, relaxing your muscles. The water was too dark to see but you felt the rumble of water as Eddie jumped in behind you. 

You broke through the surface with a laugh, smoothing your hair out of your face and searched the dark expanse of the lake for him. He popped out beside you, grabbing you by the waist and anchoring you to his chest. He kissed you sweetly, letting his tongue trace the shape of your lips. You didn’t push him away, chose to let him kiss you as passionately as he wanted, because this was all *you wanted. To be with him like this again felt too good to be true. But Eddie was sturdy under your touch, there was no doubt that this was really happening.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help the giggle that flew out your mouth. His hair was wild, soaking wet, little curls glued to his face. 

“Hi. You came.” You said as you pushed the hair from his eyes. 

“Yeah, how could I not?” He let you finish fixing his hair before he laid your head against his shoulder, a firm hand holding your body to his. His cock was still hard, pressed against your hip, and as much as you wanted to reach your hand between the two of you, you felt content just letting him hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He cooed into your ear, kissing the wet hair at your temple. 

“Next time, just tell me, Eds. All this angsty teenage bullshit was for nothing.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing, Bunny.” 

“I know. I know.” 

“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” 

“Me too, Eds. So lonely without you.” 

He squeezed you tighter, holding in his warm embrace until the sky opened up and rain poured from the dark clouds in rivets. You shrieked as a pierce of lightning hit the sky, thunder bursting around you making the water shake with the vibration. The two of you raced back to the shore, running through the cold rain toward the gazebo in a fit of laughter. 

When you finally reached shelter, you snatched up his red flannel, pushing your arms through the sleeves with chattering teeth. Eddie grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders like a giant cape, pulling you into his warmth. You wrapped your arms around him, nosing the slight patch of hair between his pecs as he held you close, eyes watching the rain pound the water. 

“What the fuck just happened.” He chuckled, rocking his body back and forth. You jerked side to side with him, poking him in the ribs when he took you off balance. 

“I guess it was time to get out.” You mused kissing his sternum, taking advantage of the blanket you were both wrapped up in, to slip your hand between your bodies and stroke his softening cock.

His head fell into yours, humming at the feeling of your cold hand slowly jerking him off. 

“Eddie, lay back down.” 

“I’m all wet, Bunny.” 

“Don’t care, want you inside me. Now.” 

You figured you wouldn’t have to beg and you were right. Eddie dropped the blanket and settled down into the pillows. You crawled into his lap, placing your pussy right down against him. He was already hard, hips rutting up into your slick folds as you teased his length. It didn’t take long for him to get needy, impatient. Whining to himself and digging his nails into your thighs. How could you have missed out on this. On teasing him until he couldn’t form a single rational thought other than “fuck me”. 

His hands went to your tits as you sank down on him, keening and groaning as you took him to the hilt. It was a little too much, he hadn’t been inside you for so long it felt like the first time all over again. Eddie must have thought so too as one of his ringed hands left your breast to grip your hip, holding you down on top of him. This was always his favorite part, the stillness before he fucked you senseless. Except he wasn’t in control this time, and despite the need you felt to ride him until the sun came up, you wanted to savor this.

So you sat on his cock, pulsing deep inside you with every clench of your walls, and slowly starting to roll your hips. You used the already quivering muscles of your thighs to guide yourself up and down. Slow at first, making sure you were ready, and then faster until your tits were bouncing in his face. He sat up, meeting you halfway, his mouth closing around your pebbled nipple. He flicked his tongue against the bud and your head lolled back, his flannel slipping from your shoulder. 

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. So fucking pretty like this, bouncing on my cock. Feels just like our first time, can’t believe how fucking tight you are.” He’s breathless as he rambled, palms splayed against your back, helping you fuck his cock at a steady, brain rotting, pace. 

“So good, Eds. So good.” You cried out when his hips snapped up into you causing you to fall into his sweaty chest. Your thighs were shaking and your knees ached, but you wanted to be on top. Wanted to be in control, but his cock was hitting you in all the right places and he was looking you dead in the eye. Eye contact was a favorite of his. Loved being able to see the moment you came, the way your eyes squeezed shut.

“Let me take over, Bunny.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “Let me take care of you, show you how much I missed you.” 

“No.” You growled, shoving him back against the makeshift bed. You paused your hips to lean over top of him, getting comfortable in this new position with your hands next to his head. You sank down fast and hard once you were ready and Eddie choked on whatever words he was about to say. 

“I’m in charge, this time.” You punctuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, sighing as you hung your head forward, unable to tear your eyes away from your pussy greedily swallowing his cock. 

Eddie was the one to pull you back to him, kissing you deeply, your tongues swirling together in your mouth. You whined when his thumb started making small tight circles around your swollen clit, snapping your hips down on him at the same pace. The fire in your belly felt like it was gonna burst, your thighs shaking as they desperately tried to carry on. But the approaching wave of your orgasm had you losing rhythm, stalling your hips at their own accord. Eddie saw but didn’t say a thing, only rolled you onto your back and hitched your legs over his hips.

You went to complain, but Eddie shushed you, covering you with his body and cradling your face. 

“You’re still in charge, Bunny, M’just helping you.” His hand dipped between your bodies, fingers resuming their tight circles. “You’re such a good boss.” 

“Don’t-” You whimpered as his thrusts made your back arch and your toes curl. “Don’t patronize me.” 

Eddie chuckled, sucking a hickey to your chest. “I’m not, Bunny, I promise. You did such a good job being on top. My good girl.” 

His good girl. Fuck you missed that. Forgotten how good it felt to be called his. You clenched around him causing his thrusts to falter. You were so close, you could feel it burning just under the surface. You wanted to tell him, let him know how good he felt inside you, but there was no reason to. You took one look at him and knew he knew. He could feel it in how wet you were getting, as if it was humanly possible for you to be even more wet, could see it in the pout of your lips and the pinch in your brow. 

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum all fucking over my cock. I know you want to, baby. Just let go.” 

Your nails dug into his hips as you came, hard. You didn’t make a peep, the air trapped in your throat prevented any sound that tried to escape your open mouth. Eddie fucked you through it wildly, his fast thrusts and your wet core making a sloppy sound when he buried himself to the hilt and pulled back out. 

“I’m so close, Bunny. W-where do you want me to cum?” Eddie’s voice was ragged, sweat beading down his chest as he fucked into you. 

“Inside, Eds.” You were still out of breath, but you had regained at least a small part of your senses back. “Cum inside me.” 

Eddie was dumbstruck, groaning at your words, but that rational side of him made him say, “But, I’m not wearing a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill, Eds. Been on the pill since you took my virginity.” And since you took his. “I wanna feel it inside me, Eds.” 

“Ah, shit. You- You can’t just say shit like that, Bunny. So dirty. My little freak. Gonna make me come too fast.” 

“I thought you were close?” You hiccupped, holding onto him like your life depended on it.

“I am. Just wanna h-hold off a little longer.” He was so focused, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he watched the way your soaked pussy continued to take him. “M’not ready to cum yet. Keep thinking about what you said, h-how you thought of me while you fucked that punk Younger.” 

You caressed his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Stop thinking so much, Eddie.” 

“Can’t, shoulda been me. Can’t believe you fucked someone else. Hate the thought of it. Hate that it makes my cock twitch.” His pace was brutal now, his hips slapping against yours so roughly the sound echoed through the trees. 

“I wanted it to be you, Eddie.” You spoke softly against his ear, carding your fingers through his tangled curls. 

“F-fuck, say my name again. Please, Bunny.” 

“Cum inside me, Eddie. Fill me up. Make me yours, Eddie. I wanna be yours.” You chanted in his ear all the praise he’d been desperately missing for months now, clenching down around him when his hips stuttered and his breath caught in his throat. 

He came with a shaky grunt, his arm wrapping behind your waist to hold you in place as he fucked himself through it in a few hard, sloppy, jerks of his hips. His cum painted your insides, leaking out around his base as he collapsed on top of you. 

“Jesus Christ, that was fucking amazing, so much better than my hand.” Eddie joked as he kissed up the column of your neck, licking at your pulse point and chuckling when it made you shiver under him. 

“You really didn’t fuck anyone else after you left?” You asked because you wanted to know, because if he hadn’t you’d feel like shit about the fact that you *had. 

“No,” Eddie said, raising to his elbows to look down at you. “I didn’t want to. Felt wrong even thinking about someone else.” 

Well, that made you feel like shit. Because you did fuck someone else, and it didn’t matter that it was horrible and your regretted it immediately, because you knew it felt wrong and you still did it. 

“Hey, Bunny, don’t cry. Why are you crying?” Eddie rolled off you and pulled your head against his chest, cradling you in his arms while he stroked your hair. 

“I was so lonely, I fucked him because I was so lonely and just wanted to be touched and y-you didn’t and I’m such a shitty person.” You were blubbering into his skin, hot tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t do that. We weren’t together, you’re allowed to sleep with other people.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t. You could have and you still didn’t.” 

He said your name, your real name, so softly and so lovingly that you nuzzled closer to him, too scared to look him in the eye. The moment reminded you of the night you took each other's virginities. How he held you so close afterwards, stroking your hair, and he hummed your name. Said it in a way you’d never heard before. That night, the sex had been okay, you were both new to it all working together to figure out what felt good and what made your eyes roll back into your heads. Every time after had been better than the last as you learned together what sex could be. But it didn’t matter how high he was, how wrecked and worn out he was, he always held you after. Said your name like it was the only thing that mattered. It was his thing, a thing you never even asked for but it made you feel whole inside.

Eddie was always just doing these things for you without you even asking because he wanted to do them. 

“Hey, look at me.” He lifted your chin until he could see your sad face. “I don’t care that you fucked someone else.” 

“But-” You tried to interrupt but he put his hand over your mouth, efficiently shutting you up. 

“I don’t care about that, at least I’m trying not to. I’ll work on it but you need to stop this ridiculous hate fest going on in that pretty little head of yours. It only took you fucking one person to realize the truth.” 

“What truth is that?” You asked with a weak voice, muffled by his hand over your mouth. 

“That I’m the fucking god of sex.” 

He says it with such a straight face you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, shoving at his chest so you could roll onto your back. You were still giggling as you wiped the tears from your eyes, that ball of guilt in your chest a little lighter. 

“Am I wrong? Seriously, Bunny. You can’t say I’m wrong.” He’s trying to be serious but he can’t stop the toothy smile that spreads across his face when he hears you snort again. 

“I taught you everything you know, Eds. Shouldn’t that make me the sex god.” 

“You know what, you just have to steal my moment, huh?” You coo at him when he says this, patting his cheek with so much condescension he bats your hands away and grabs you by your cheeks with his fingers. “Don’t be a brat, Bunny.” 

You smooch at him and he rolls his eyes, drawing you up to his lips. He dropped his hand to your jaw, kissing you so tenderly it made your already wobbly knees weaker. 

“Eddie?” You asked as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please don’t leave me like that again, I don’t think I could take it.” 

He turned serious as he said, “I promise, Bunny. I’ll try to use my brain a little harder next time.” 

“Good.” You ran your thumb over the sharp edge of his jaw. “Good, your brain needs the exercise.”

Eddie tossed his head back against the pillow, dark curls flying into his face and you giggled even harder, loved how dramatic he just couldn’t help being. 

“God, you’re such a brat!” He laughed along with you, pulling you tight against his side, and you knew right then that you didn’t have to worry about missing him so deeply it tore you apart ever again. 

He wasn’t gonna run away this time. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff

[cherrycola27]

Desire

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, Smut 18+

It shouldn't be this hard to fuck your husband. I mean, for crying out loud, you and Rooster were the only married couple in the Dagger friend group. Sure, Phoenix and Hangman were engaged. Bob had his girlfriend that he brought with him, and Maverick and Penny were, well— Maverick and Penny.

But you were the only married couple, and it seemed like this month, the universe had been conspiring to keep you from getting laid.

First, you had the flu and didn't want Rooster anywhere near you. Then your period came early. And not that you were opposed to period sex. You definitely weren't. You just weren't feeling it. And then Rooster had to spend a week in Lemoore demonstrating some new tech, and now that he was finally home, the two of you were like dogs in heat.

That was until Jake had called him a few hours ago to remind him about Javy's birthday celebration at the Hard Deck.

So here you were, leaning up against the wall, watching your husband play pool with the boys.

God he looked so fucking good in the new Hawiian shirt you had gotten him. The sleeves were fitted just enough to strain against his biceps when he flexed them to line up his shot. And you're sure that he wore those light washed blue jeans just to fuck with you, because boy did they make his ass look good.

It wasn't fair that he was walking around like sex on legs, and you couldn't do anything about it.

Or could you?

You smirked wickedly behind your drink as you met Rooster's eyes across the pool table. You definitely weren't trying to distract him from his game. It was a total coincidence that you just happened to lean forward and squeeze your chest together at the exact moment he took his shot.

And you definitely didn't mean to graze his ass when you walked behind him the next time was bent over the pool table.

And you just had to squeeze past him and brush your ass against his crotch so you could do a tequila shot with Phoenix.

You tipped your head back and let the clear liquid burn its way down your throat. You bit the lime, and you couldn't help that a stray drop of juice from it ran down your face along your neck.

All of those events were just— happy accidents.

Rooster's grip on the pool cue tightened. He knew what you were doing. He was doing his best not to let you win. Trying to focus on anything but you and the little game you were playing.

He took a breath and tried to drown out your laughter by listening to the music coming from the jukebox. However, U2 singing about a fever getting higher and desire growing wasn't helping his situation.

You and Phoenix dancing on each other while the song blasted through the speakers also didn't help.

Thankfully it was no longer his turn at the pool game, so he could take a seat for a minute and try to discreetly readjust the semi he was sporting. Normally he wouldn't be this turned on by your little stunts, but it had been almost a month since he had fucked you, and it was starting to get to him.

You noticed he had sat down, so you took the opportunity to waltz over and plant yourself in his lap. You gave him a sweet smile as you wiggled your ass against his cock, all in the name of getting comfortable.

His hands harshly grabbed your hips to still your movements as he let out a hiss. He gave you a stern glance before whispering in your ear.

"Sweetheart, if you don't stop teasing me right now, I'm going to take you to the bathroom and bend you over my knee." He warned.

"Is that a promise?" You asked with another wiggle of your rear.

"Honey. I mean it, be a good girl and cut it out." He growled in your ear before giving your hips a squeeze.

You turned and looked him dead in the eyes before saying, "Make me."

Rooster was stunned at your words. He pulled back and looked at your face. You sat there still smiling at him with big, innocent doe eyes. To those around you, it looked like the two of you were having a sweet exchange, but it was much more wicked than that.

You gave him a peck on the lips before hopping off his lap and walking towards the bathroom. Before opening the door, you turned back and shot Rooster a wink before gesturing to your phone and shutting the door.

Rooster quickly checked his phone and noticed the new text from you, telling him to meet you in the bathroom in five minutes.

He watched the time slowly tick by on his phone before finally excusing himself from the group. He sped to the bathroom, ignoring the calls of Hangman and the others asking him to come back.

He can vaugly hear Bob saying something about not waiting on him, but he doesn't really care at this point.

No, he's on a mission to fuck you... pool game be damned.

He pushes his way through the door and locks it before turning to look at you. You're perched up on the counter, leaning back on your hands.

"Took you long enough," you say as he makes his way over to you and harshly kisses you.

His hands are all over your body. He tugs down your tank top and pulls your bra cups down in one swift motion. He attaches his lips to one of your perky nipples and swirls his fingers around the other one.

Your hands fly to his hair as you try to hold him closer to you.

Normally, Rooster would take his time with you. Build you up to the edge over and over again until you were a babbling, crying mess. But he knew the two of you were on borrowed time, and you didn't have long before someone came looking for you.

"C'mon baby, we don't have much time before people start wondering what we are doing. My pussy is aching to have your cock inside it." You moan against his ear, trying to urge him on

"You don't think my cock is aching to be inside you? I haven't had you in almost four weeks, woman." He growls back, jerking your hips forward on the counter to pull you flush against him.

"Not my fault you've been in Lemoore the past week." You tease back, nipping at his ear lobe.

"Don't fucking remind me about Lemoore. I was so wound up I had to jerk off in the barracks like a fucking horny teenager." He groaned while reaching for the button of your jeans.

"Watched some of those videos I have of you on my phone. Was nice, but not nearly as good as the real thing." He moaned while pulling your pants and panties down in one swift motion.

"Oh, baby," you moan as his fingers skimmed along your soaked folds. "Which ones did you watch? The ones where I'm choking on your cock?" You hummed against him. He grunted in response. "Or what about the ones where I'm finger fucking myself? Was it one of those?" You ask him. He doesn't respond. Instead, he sinks to the floor in front of you. His breath is hot against your core as he speaks.

"No, I watched my personal favorite. The one we made in front of the mirror. Love seeing my girl so cock drunk and fucked out while she's taking me so well. You're like my own personal pornstar in that one baby." He tells you before burying his face in your heat.

He pulls one of your thighs over his shoulder to give him more access. His tongue laps against you in fast, hard strokes. It doesn't take long before you feel your release build in your belly.

"Oh fuck, Rooster! Feels so good!" You cry out as you grind your pussy against his face, trying to get some more friction.

Rooster slips two fingers into your weeping cunt, burying them past the knuckles and crooking them just the way he knows you like. He finds that wonderful spongy spot inside you and curls his fingers over it, over and over again.

You throw your head back unable to contain the moan that leaves your mouth. You really were going to try and be quiet, but it was no use. They way his hands and mouth were working you, you wanted everyone to know how good he made you feel.

"Right there, baby, please don't stop!" You cried out, and he sped up his fingers while his tongue drew figure eights on your clit. You gripped his shoulder to ground yourself, red nails digging into him as your climax washed over you.

Rooster rose up, your release glistening all over his face. He wiped it with the back of his hand before licking his fingers clean.

"Nothing line having my favorite meal after going so long without it." He tells you. You roll your eyes at him.

Rooster doesn't give you time to respond before he pulls you off the counter, spins you around, and jerks your pants down to your ankles before pushing you down against the counter.

He slots his thigh between yours and kicks your legs further apart.

He pushes into you in one fluid motion. He gives you a few moments to adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. You'd think you'd be used to him by now, but even now after a year of marriage and years of being together, you still need some time to adjust to his size, because he's just so damn big.

Once you've settled down, you rock your hips back against him, signaling for him to move.

He starts out slow, building a rhythm. His fingers flex against your hips, pulling you flush against him with each snap of his hips. He wants, no, needs to be deeper inside you. He has the overwhelming urge to fill you, consume you, possess you. He wants to fuck you dumb, push every thought out of your brain, until all you know is him.

The sounds that are coming from you are lewd. If you had half a brain about you right now, maybe you would be embarrassed. But all that's on your mind is a carnal desire to be fucked senseless by your husband.

Your skin is flush. You feel like a candle that's been lit and left alone, burning out of control. Each thrust of his hips, each drag of his cock through your folds, each filthy thing he whispers in your ear only fans that flame that's burning in you.

Rooster hips are relentless against yours as he continues to pound into you. You're trying so hard to stay quiet, but it's damn near. Impossible.

"Come on baby, let them hear you. I want everyone to know how good I make you feel." He moans in your ear. You can't contain the groan that comes from deep inside you.

You lull your head back against Rooster's shoulder as the arm he has wrapped around your torso pulls your tighter against him.

You're so close, and he knows it. Rooster probably knows your body better than you do. He feels your walls flutter around him. Gripping him, not wanting to let him go.

He grabs your chin and forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. He wants you to watch yourself fall apart.

"Look at you, honey. So beautiful. So fucked out. I want you to watch. Want you to see what I see. Want you to see how fucking gorgeous you look when you cum all over my cock." Rooster whispers hotly in your ear.

He holds your face there as his hips repeatedly snap into yours.

The hand around your middle moves so he can draw tight circles on your overly sensitive clit.

Without him supporting you, you lean forward, searching for something to grab onto. Your hand lands on the handle of the sink faucet.

You grip onto it for dear life. Your eyes never leaving the mirror.

This is truly the most erotic thing you've ever done. Your breast bounce with each thrust of his hips. You can see the fucked out expression all over your face. Your cheeks are flushed, your mouth hangs open in an O shape.

You lock eyes with Rooster in the mirror just as he brings you over the edge. You cry out his name and clamp down on him, sending him to his finish right behind you.

You watch as his face twists in pleasure as he cries out your name.

It's so overwhelming that your whole body shakes before both of you collapse on top of the counter.

It takes you both a minute to come down from your high, Rooster slowly pulls out of you. You wince at the loss of contact, already missing the fullness of him.

He tucks himself back into his pants and attempts to make himself presentable. He grabs a few paper towels to help clean you up, but when he goes to reach for the sink, he sees it. The faucet handle laying haphazardly next to you.

His eyes go wide before he lets out a laugh. It takes a moment before your brain catches up with the rest of your body to realize what you've done.

"Oh Fuck!" You screech out, jerking you clothes back into place. "Penny is going to kill us! Not only did we desecrate her bathroom, we broke something too."

"I'll just pay for it. Don't worry, baby." Rooster says to you casually.

"I can't go back out there with this. If I do, everyone will know what we did. I can not do the walk of shame— again, " you groan.

"Baby, for one, I'm pretty sure everyone knows what we did—even if we didn't break the faucet. And for two—it's not a walk of shame. It's a victory lap." Rooster grins.

"I'm not going out there, Bradley. I can't." You start to panic.

"Since when are you shy? This was your idea." He reminds you.

"I know, I know but I didn't take into account the possibility of property damage!" You scold him.

"C'mon honey, I'll explain everything to Penny, and we will all have a good laugh about it." Rooster grabs your hand, trying to tug you out of the bathroom.

You plant your feet, refusing to move. "Fine, if you want to do this the hard way, don't say I didn't try." Rooster sighs. Before you can respond, he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. He grabs the faucet handle before carrying you out of the bathroom.

"Bradley Alexander Bradshaw! You put me down this instant you—you big lug!" You scold as you smack his back.

Rooster just laughed and rolled his eyes before approaching the bar. You buried your face in your hands, trying to ignore the wolf whistles from your friends.

He walks up to where Penny and Maverick are sitting and drops the handle down on the counter with a smug grin on his face.

"Sorry Penny, just put it on my tab," He states. Penny looks at the handle, too stunned to speak, before looking back at him. She opens her mouth, but Maverick cuts her off.

"Rooster— Rooster is the broken faucet a result of you defiling my daughter in the restroom?" Maverick sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He already knows the answer.

"Well, Dad, you did say you wanted grandkids." You reply as you crane your neck to look at him because Rooster still has you thrown over his shoulder.

"I—ugh" Maverick sighs, not sure how to respond. He's pretty sure Goose and Carole are laughing at him from Heaven right now.

"Like I said, Penny, just put it on my tab, gotta get the missues home to work on those grandkids for you and Mav," Rooster winks before strolling out with you still over his shoulder.

Hey babes! Here is my second contribution to @roosterforme love is in the air challenge! Inspired by the U2 song "Desire"

Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #lt. bradley bradshaw #love is in the air tgm #roosterforme #cherrycola27

[themousefromfantasyland]

Was Star really supposed to be Asha's love interest in the beginning of the development of Disney's Wish?

I keep seeing this being brought up everywhere, appearing even on Trivia TikTok videos about the movie, but as far as I know this is coming from a deeply misunderstanding of the development process.

The main idea is that Star-boy was supposed to be Asha's love interest and that At All Costs was supposed to be their love song.

Seeing the concept arts of Star-boy I can see where most people are coming from. I'm also think that Asha and him are definitely shippable.

However, in the Art of Wish, Star-boy was just the third stage of the character development, and on that stage he was meant to be Asha's deceased grandfather reborn. On the first stage he was supposed to be a shapeshifter and on the final stage a ball of pure energy.

You can say they missed the opportunity of having Star stay as a magical boy like Peter Pan, but it's clear that on that stage his relationship with Asha was probably going to be platonic. No romance here.

Then why do At All Costs sound so much like a love song?

Luckily for us, Jennifer Lee, one of the writers for the film and chief creative officer of the Walt Disney Animation Studios, and Julia Michaels, the songwriter for the movie, gave an interview to Variety explaining their reasons.

The song “At All Costs,” sung by Asha and King Magnifico, was important to Lee. The song navigates the importance of the wishes to each of them, and the two are emotionally aligned here. Lee pushed for a song expressing this. “You had to understand what it felt like to hold someone’s wish in your hand. How do we viscerally understand that when you’re with them, you feel like you’re holding someone’s raison d’être?” she says. “You can’t do this in any other way but song.

Since there was no love song in the film, Michaels wanted to write a song that as a standalone sounded like a love song that could be played at weddings. Yet in the context of the film, it’s about the heroine and villain. Says Michaels, “How cool would it be if we wrote a song that if you listened to on its own, it sounds like a love song, it could be something you could play at your wedding, or be a lullaby to your kids, just something really beautiful, but when you watch the film, it’s the heroine and it’s the villain.” She continues, “You realize they’re coming about this both from various points, one from a very selfless standpoint and one from a selfish standpoint.”

Basically Jennifer Lee wanted a song about the importance of the the wishes for both Asha and Magnifico, but Julia Michaels wanted to write a love song. As there were no opportunities to write a love song, Michaels wrote At All Costs to sound like one.

But in the demo, they sing "Love you, as one does", instead of "Promise, as one does"?

Probably Julia Michaels wanted to write a love song, but had to tone it down so as to not confuse the audience. Clearly, it didn't work that well.

Disney is lying!

Why would Disney lie about the development of Wish? As far as I know, there's nothing to hide, no scandals, no controversies.

Jenifer Lee is literally the chief creative officer, the highest ranking position of the creative team within the Walt Disney Animation Studios. She along Allison Moore WROTE the screenplay and she is part of the team that came up with that story. Wish was her brainchild. Why would she need to lie?

Maybe higher ups like Bob Iger and Bob Chapek screwed with the project. That's completely possible. Maybe we learn later some big and super shady controversy in the development of the movie.

But, by the time being, with all the evidences available, Wish seems to be the story she and others of the studio wanted to tell, even if general audiences reacted badly.

And so far, no evidence of romance.

Unless someone comes out with some legitimate evidence of the contrary, Star was never supposed to be Asha's love interest, and everything else is consequence of fans being dissatisfied with the end product and wanting for something more Disney-like.

#disney #wish #disney wish #star x asha #disney concept art #wish 2023

[motomamita]

Whiplash

Based on the movie Whiplash (2014)

Pairing: Guitarist!Eddie Munson x Female!Guitarist!reader

Summary: (YN) puts Eddie's place in the music group at risk, so he decides to visit her at night and clear things up.

Warnings: Smut, +18, a looot of cursing and dirty talk, possesive Eddie, rough sex, hatefuck, unprotected sex, Fletcher is a warning himself, violents talks, idk.

Do not copy or translate, and sorry for my bad english. Muak.

Eddie entered the rehearsal room carrying his guitar case while trying not to bump into his classmates, reading the sheet music that Fletcher had given them days before.

He had been in the select group at the conservatory for 2 weeks and still felt nervous like the first time. After Fletcher fired his previous guitarist, Eddie was chosen from among many guitarists at the conservatory to take his place. He finally had an important position on the team and he wasn't going to let anyone take him away from there.

Everyone took their places and began to warm up their instruments, practicing individually without paying attention to the rest of their classmates. They stayed like that until Fletcher came into the room. The silence became absolute and the nervousness was present.

"We are weeks away from the presentation at the exhibition." Fletcher commented looking at his musicians who kept their eyes on the floor. "My reputation and that of the Conservatory depends on your performance there." He spoke seriously. "So if any of you, fucking shits, decide to make some mistake and ruin everything...! You'll just have to pick up your stuff and leave before I kill you with my own hands, okay?!" Fletcher's voice echoed throughout the place.

Neither Eddie nor the others dared to speak. They kept their eyes on the ground and their hearts pounding, not moving to avoid attracting Fletcher's attention and automatically becoming his next victim.

"OK?!" He repeated angrily.

"Yes sir!" They all responded in unison.

"Good very good." Fletcher sat down in his chair and everyone quickly get ready to play. "We start with Caravan."

The band began to play immediately, following the scores with their eyes to avoid mistakes that could harm them. Eddie fixed his gaze on his fingers on the strings as he bobbed his head rhythmically. He had already studied this song the night before to avoid mistakes so he knew it by heart from beginning to end. He didn't want to be the victim of Fletcher's fury, not again.

It took a few seconds until Fletcher waved his hands in the air asking them to stop immediately, which they did. A grimace of disgust settled on the man's face. Someone had made a mistake and Eddie prayed it wasn't him.

"Edward. What the fuck was that!?" It had been him. "Is smoking affecting your damn retarded chimpanzee brain?"

Fletcher yelled at him from his spot, placing his hands on his hips and still looking at him. Eddie lowered his gaze embarrassed and didn't say a word, anything he could say was going to complicate the situation even more.

"I think I'm going to have to hit your damn fingers with a hammer to get them to play ONE note right! Son of a bitch.."

Fletcher was interrupted by a knock on the door of the room. He walked to open the door, welcoming whoever was behind.

"Thank God you came! This idiot is ruining everything!" He exclaimed with a certain tone of calm in his voice. "Everyone, meet (YN). She'll be our lead guitarist."

Eddie looked up from the ground when he heard the name. His eyes connected with hers, his 'former fuck' and now 'new enemy'. He hadn't seen her since the last time they fucked, before they both entered the conservatory and had a fight over who was the best player.

"Thank you for considering me and giving me the opportunity to play with you." She smiled. That damn smile.

"You deserve it, sweetie. So take Munson's seat."

Eddie smiled, anger coursing through his body. Was this all an evil plan on Fletcher's part? Did he want to humiliate him even more?

"But... I'm the lead guitarist..." Eddie tried to defend his place.

"You're not anymore. Until you improve your technique and keep your mind on the scores and not thinking about whores and drugs." Fletcher responded harshly. "Now you are going to be in charge of turning the pages of (YN's) sheet music."

The girl walked to Eddie's seat, who reluctantly gave her his place and stood next to her. (YN) set up her guitar and took out her own folder of sheet music, extending it to Eddie.

"We're back again with Caravan." Fletcher informed, returning to his place in the room.

"You heard, place my pages on Caravan." (YN) murmured with a mocking smile to Eddie, who closed his fists trying to mitigate his anger and followed the girl's orders.

"And one, two and.. Three!"

Three loud knocks echoed on the door of (YN's) small apartment. The girl, who had just come out of the shower, put on a t-shirt that reached her thighs and ran to the door still with her hair wet.

When she opened she found Eddie Munson, who also didn't seem happy to see her again. Many times he had shown up at her door, months ago, with desire and need in his eyes and then fucked her until dawn. Now, his gaze expressed pure annoyance and it was more likely that he wanted to finish her off before making her finish.

"Why? Uh? Why the hell do you want to sabotage me?" He asked placing his hand on the door frame, preventing her from closing it.

"I didn't sabotage you, you just did." She explained calmly. "It's not my fault I'm better than you." She smiled cynically.

"No! You're not better than me and you know it. It's all a damn plan to drive me crazy and push me over the edge, right?" Eddie raised his voice upset.

(YN) sighed and grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket, making him enter the apartment before the neighbors complained about the noise.

"You're really paranoid if you think I'm doing all this for you. I made the team on my own merit, I'm not part of any 'evil plan' to make you suffer, as much as I'd like to see that." She explained, taking a few steps forward to stay close to him.

"Did you fuck Fletcher?" Eddie asked quietly as he looked into her eyes.

"What?" She asked after a few seconds confused.

"You did it, right? All so you could steal my place on the team." He asked again, now more confident.

"No, I never did." She shook her head, still looking into his eyes. "But I might try, if that makes you even more jealous." She murmured mischievously after a few seconds.

Neither of them moved for the first few seconds. The street lights entered through the windows of the apartment, leaving little visibility and turning them into shadows for the outside gaze. The ticking of the clock resonated almost at the same tempo as the rapid heartbeats of both, creating a melody as dangerous as it was captivating.

Eddie couldn't contain himself any longer and launched himself at her, placing one of his hands behind her neck and pulling her towards him, kissing her desperately. (YN) did not refuse and received him gladly, hugging him by the shoulders and pressing her body even closer to his. The kiss became more violent, showing that there was not only desire there but also a great amount of hatred in both of them. Without separating, they moved to the couch where (YN) collided with him, becoming cornered between it and Eddie.

"Damn whore, trying to steal my place..." Eddie murmured against her lips while one of his hands moved up her thighs until he reached her core. "And you're not wearing panties... It seems like you were waiting for me to arrive and find you like this..." He growled and one of his fingers began to make circular movements on her clitoris. Her legs trembled at the sudden stimulus, closing her thighs instinctively.

"I wasn't waiting for you, but for Fletcher.." she joked, enjoying Eddie's jealous look.

In one quick movement Eddie turned her and placed her face down, with her abdomen over the back of the couch. One of his hands grabbed hers and her t-shirt, leaving her bare from the waist down. (YN) let out a moan at that, getting even wetter from Eddie's mini aggressions. He knelt, still holding her hands, and brought his head to her center.

"You smell as exquisite as always.." He spoke and then took his mouth and began to lick her folds with need. She moaned loudly, rolling her eyes back as the tip of Eddie's tongue found her clit. "My pussy, this is my fucking pussy.." he growled, tasting all the wetness of her.

"Eddie! Shit..!" She moaned desperately at the wave of pleasure he was giving her with just his mouth. The neighbors were definitely aware of what was happening.

He abruptly separated from her center, uncomfortable by the boner that formed inside his pants. He clumsily pulled down his pants along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock whose tip was glistening from the accumulation of precum.

"Shit.." He mumbled at the sight, not at all surprised at the effect (YN) had on her. "You make me so fucking hard.."

With his free hand he brought his cock up to her wet hole. Eddie released a trickle of saliva, trying to make the stretch not so painful for her, and spread it with the tip of his cock over her folds. (YN) bit her lower lip, eager to feel him inside her after several months.

In a slow but confident movement, he entered inside her making sure not to leave any centimeters out. They both moaned at the sensation and didn't move for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling. Progressively, Eddie couldn't hold on any longer and began to move at a normal pace, grunting like an animal.

"God, I hate you so much but this pussy is so wonderful.." He spoke between moans, admiring how his cock entered and left her with ease thanks to the wetness of both of them.

"Well, I hate you, you and your big fat cock.."

Eddie stopped dead when he heard her and in an unexpected movement he released her hands and grabbed her neck, bringing her back to his chest. Without warning he fucked her again, only this time with a rougher and more hateful rhythm. For (YN) it became impossible to hide her moans, the pleasure was absolute and did not seem to end.

"Moan, moan for me. Let everyone know that you will always be my fucking whore.." Eddie laughed as he heard pure moans coming from her mouth.

His balls rhythmically slapped against her clit, bringing sparks of pleasure to both of them. Her hands went to Eddie's arm that was holding her neck, noticing that out of desperation Eddie was still wearing his pants at the height of his ankles.

"Eddie..! Please..!" From the tone of her voice, he knew that she was ready to cum and it wouldn't be long until he did too.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.." Eddie repeated to the rhythm of each hard thrust, feeling her walls hug him as she cums.

(YN)'s legs shook but that didn't seem to matter to Eddie at all, who continued fucking her through her orgasm until he felt she was close. He brought his mouth to her neck, biting lightly as he stifled a moan of pleasure. After a few seconds he ended up inside her, without noticing that due to the force of his bite he had left a mark on her neck.

Slowly Eddie pulled out of her, letting some of his cum fall down her thighs and stain the floor. (YN) had to hold on to the couch to avoid falling to the floor because of how weak her legs felt. Eddie noticed and held her for a few seconds to make sure she was okay. Then, he pulled up his boxers and pants and acted as if nothing had happened, although his red cheeks and messy hair showed otherwise.

Neither of them said anything, there was no need to do so either. (YN) watched as Eddie walked to the exit but turned around before leaving.

"This doesn't end here. Soon I will regain my place on the team and you will be my whore inside the conservatory too."

Then, he left the apartment.

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #whiplash #guitarist!reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn