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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Celebrity Crush

Hi guys!

This is a new one, but it's kind of a suit from this story. A bonus chapter, I don't know how we can call it.

I hope you will like it :)

TW : Ona Batlle being perfect as ever.(I'm so in love)

Summary : You're a worldclass singer in an interview after you left your group because your manager and staff were asshole.

Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

After leaving your group's separation, you quickly felt better. The depression that awaited you flew away like a cloud of smoke once the stress and pressure that were constantly on your shoulders stopped existing. Even when you were on trial against your old record company, your former bosses and manager, you felt good. Because even if you ended up paying millions, it meant you were free again. And that, in your eyes, was priceless.

You must also admit that being able to be with your girlfriend on a daily basis is probably the main reason for your well-being. Ona has always been the most important person in your life and since your return to Barcelona, you have trouble being separated from her. You gladly accompany her to her training sessions and you will also happily get her when she has finished. You go to each of her games as well, even if they are on the other side of Spain or in another country. You have so much time to catch up and your wear your jersey with her name with pride.

You were afraid at first that having you around all the time would end up bothering Ona, but she seems as happy to have you back as you are. At first, you didn’t know what to do while the footballer was training, so you cleaned up your house. As the days passed, you started composing and playing music again, for fun. Your apartment may no longer shine like a mint, but it has the advantage that your housekeeper stops staring at you when you don’t put their products in the right place.

It's only two years later that you decide to release a music album, entirely produced by you. You don’t want to experience the same kind of problems as before and you’ve decided that you’re never better served than by yourself. The songs are mostly love songs related to Ona to be fair.

When you looked for musicians, you asked the guys but only Ricardo agreed. You didn’t blame the other two, even if you now use the thing to annoy them when you see them again and you start bickering like fifteen year olds.

You choose your interviews yourself and it's you who plans your concert schedules, arranging to place them at times or places that don't make you miss any match of Ona. It's sometimes more difficult for her to come see you in concert, but these being the same each time, you don't hold it against her. You have an agent, though, who is no one but your big brother, who you have complete confidence in, and who knows how to be a watchdog when it comes.

After dropping Ona off at practice today, you head to the centre of Barcelona for an interview. You initially hesitated before accepting, but when sold to you as a way to also talk about homosexuality that is forced to hide in the music world, you quickly accepted.

"Drive carefully. I will try to listen to you" Ona promised before kissing you tenderly caressing your cheek.

"All right. Be careful Onita."

Ona smiled at you and left the car, not without kissing you one more time when you whines when you saw her leaving your car.

The report that is broadcast before your interview attracts all your attention and you are happy that the subject is approached in this way. The way they educate young people on the subject also pleases you very much. During the ad page and the beginning of your interview, you send a quick message to Ona and your mother, telling them that the interview will soon begin.

The headphones on your ears, you smile at the journalist who is interviewing you. She is a well-known and respected journalist in Spain and you are happy that she is the one doing your interview.

"So Y/N, hello! How are you?"

"I’m fine thank you and you?" you answer with a smile.

"Well, I’m glad you’re here."

You smile and nod. She informed you that the interview was being filmed to be broadcast online on the radio’s website, but don’t forget that most people can’t see you. So you also thank her orally.

After discussing the report and general views, she gently guides the discussion on your own case, as agreed. You naturally asked Ona’s permission to talk about her before accepting the interview.

"And so in your case, it was your record company at the time that prohibited you from mentioning your girlfriend?"

"Yes. In truth, I was not allowed to talk about my homosexuality at all. It was the record company that started releasing subtle information to make the fans believe that something was going on between Juan and me"

"And you were already with your girlfriend when it all started?"

"We’ve been together since we were 17 and I’ve never kept the truth from them" you shrug your shoulders.

"It must have been hard for you, but also for her, I guess."

You swallow nervously, the difficult moments through which you passed coming back in memory. Playing nervously with your fingers, you quickly shift your attention to your interlocutor.

"Very. Honestly, I’m very lucky that she stayed. Many other people would have given up on me I think."

The reporter smiles at you before moving on to another question. You knew this kind of moment would come and you were prepared. But that doesn’t mean it’s nice to talk about it anyway.

"I can see people reacting to what you said and some people find it unbelievable that your former employers have not managed to separate you" she comments looking at a screen next to her.

"Oh, actually they almost succeeded. But that’s precisely when I decided to stop everything. I could see my life without music, but I couldn’t see my life without Ona" you say timidly while smiling.

The journalist smiles back at you and winks at you before grabbing a small pile of cards next to her.

"Thank you for your sincerity. Now a quick round of questions on anything and everything, all our guests come through. Are you ready?"

"Ready" you answer, a little more relaxed.

You laugh softly when she throws a jingle, before you ask the first question.

"What is your favorite season?"

"Summer" you answer. The summer break would be fairer, considering Ona’s busy schedule.

"Your favorite food?"

"The fideua of my mother-in-law, sorry Mama I love you"

"If you had to live in a city other than Barcelona, which one would it be?"

You give yourself a few seconds to think, quickly listing the places you know in your head.

"Um… Maybe Palma de Mallorca"

An hour’s flight from your families, the little island is a place you enjoy. So why not. In addition, you need the sun to live properly. Even if you enjoy London, you don't see yourself living there permanently.

"Real Madrid or FC Barcelona?"

"Barcelona, obviously" you answer with a smile.

"The first thing you do in the morning, only the answers that can be listened by our youngest ears are allowed" jokes the journalist, making you laugh.

"Turn off my girlfriend’s alarm clock I guess"

You never understood how Ona got up and got to practice on time during your absence. She never hears the sound of her alarm clock.

"Ok and last question. Who is your celebrity crush? Ban to mention Ona's name"

You laugh again and roll your eyes.

"Okay then… The Number 22 of Fc Barcelona Femini is kind of cute" you answer with malice, mentioning Ona's number.

It makes the journalist laugh and you smile while shrugging your shoulders before answering.

"What? You saw my girlfriend? There’s no way I’d mention another name"

This is where the interview ends and you warmly thank the whole team for their kindness. After posing for a photo for their social networks, you still stay with them to talk a little bit. At this time, Ona is probably coming home, Salma having offered to bring her back for once since you were not sure to arrive on time.

When you go out, some fans are waiting for you and you take a few minutes to talk to them, sign autographs or take pictures. When you finally get to your car, you answer Ona’s message that she is home to tell her that you are coming too.

"I’m home mi Amor!"

Ona appears smiling in the entrance after a few seconds and you don't hesitate to pass your arms around her to squeeze her against you. It’s only been a few hours but it’s pretty incredible how much you missed her. You smile while feeling the comforting smell of her shampoo and smile even more when she drops kisses in the hollow of your neck.

"How was the training?" you ask her while playing with her long hair.

"Very good. Only three games left and we’re on vacation"

You smile and nod. Barcelona are already sure to win the championship and you saw their third straight victory in the Champions League a few weeks before.

"I can’t wait"

You have already planned your vacation, three weeks under the sun of Hawaii. You know how tired Ona is and you intend to do everything possible so that she can recover properly. What she doesn’t know is that you plan to propose to her there and that almost everything is already organized.

Ona turns you away from the last details you have to do by putting her lips on yours, waking the butterflies in your stomac.

"Come, I ordered food. I took sushi as I didn't know what time you would arrive"

"It’s perfect" you assure her, letting her train you in your kitchen by the hand. "Like you" you add with a smirk, lightly squeezing her bum.

Ona laughs and turns around to face you and put her arms around your neck.

"What a sweat talker and a charmer" she whispers against your lips before kissing you again, making you shiver.

"I’m so in love with you it’s disgusting" you smirk a few minutes later when you’re sitting in front of your plate.

"Oh yeah? Well it seems to me that you also appreciate the number 22 of FC Barcelona?"

Sitting in front of you, Ona has eyes that sparkle with mischief and you laugh by pointing with one of your sticks.

"You can’t blame me. She’s amazing."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine

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greynatomy · 8 months

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football or football?

lucy bronze x reader

lucy won the very close poll.

been seeing the whole taylor swift and travis kelce thing on tiktok and got this idea.

this became longer than Iithought it’d be. was supposed to be a ficlet. oh, well.

let me know what you think!

-grey

———

For the past two weeks, you’ve been trending on twitter. At first you don’t know what it’s about, but your publicist caught you up saying how there’s a footballer — American footballer — who keeps mentioning you in interviews and on his podcast. It was honestly getting pretty annoying, not just to you, but also to your very jealous girlfriend.

You’d both decided to keep your relationship private, with you being a popular musician and your girlfriend being a top footballer in the league. Except, the media has been labeling your relationship as friends, best friends who support each other. Never once has there been an article where you both are speculated to be dating.

You’ve both been fun with it, being able to not have to hide anything, but with the whole Travis Kelce using your name to stay relevant to the media, your girlfriend is getting fed up.

“I don’t know why he keeps bringing you up? Not once have you mentioned him on anything. ‘The ball is in your court?’ Like what does that mean?” Lucy rambles.

“Honestly, I’m getting tired of it too. I’ve been so busy with touring that I didn’t even know about it until Sarah told me.” You reply, cuddling up to her on the bed, your head on her chest.

“Did Sarah tell you what you should do?”

“Sarah’s pretty much fed up like the both of us so she said it’s up to me. She doesn’t care if I tell him to fuck off, I’d do it anyway without telling her.”

“Didn’t you say he invited you to a game?”

“Yeah, he did. Why?” You we’re getting skeptical with the way Lucy has a smirk and mischievous look on her face.

“Don’t you think it’s time for us to come out, no?”

“Been together four years. Probably long overdue.”

“Well you better tell him that you’d love to accept that invitation, with a plus one of course.”

“I’m liking the way you think.”

———

Now a week later, you and Lucy were dressed up in red, arriving at Arrowhead Stadium. Lucy had a red England bucket hat on that she took off your head. You were being escorted to the friends and family box by security, running into people who recognized you. One hand holding Lucy’s the other waving to people as you passed.

Walking into the box, you were met with lots of people, Travis’ mom was the one to come and greet you.

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Kelce.”

“Oh, please call me Donna. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your music, been wanting to meet you ever since Travis said that you’d both started talking.”

“That’s so nice of you, thank you, but unfortunately all the conversations your son had with me are one sided. I’ve never once entertained anything he said. The only time I’ve texted back was to tell him I’d love to attend a game. Never been to an American Football game before.”

“Really? My son said you guys were getting along.”

“Unfortunately for him, we haven’t. But I’d like to introduce you to my partner Lucy.”

“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you as well Lucy. I’m sorry if my son cause any trouble between the two of you.”

“It’s no worries at all. Excited to watch the game.”

“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?”

“From England.”

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for accents. But let’s not let the situation get in the way and enjoy this game.”

———

liked by fan1, fan2 and 23,749 others

ynupdates yn seen at the kansas chief’s game

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fan1 NO WAY SHES THERE

fan2 MAMA KELCE IS WITH HER

fan3 is ynvis real?!?!

fan4 is everyone gonna ignore lucy bronze right next to her

———

The game just finished. Everyone is cheering as the Chief’s won a game at home. You and Donna hug each other close, jumping up and down. Lucy was actually awestruck by all the people celebrating their team winning, thinking back to all the times fans of hers and her team celebrated like this.

Moments after, you follow Debby to the hallways, no doubt leading to her son. Travis comes out freshly showered and changed a bit after, going straight to his Mom for a hug. Then he turns to you opening his arms out for a hug, so you give him a side hug, not wanting to be mean. Cameras click nonstop towards the two of you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says to you.

“You as well. Great game you played out there.”

“Thank you. Wanna go somewhere more private so we can hear each other better without the prying eyes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He leads towards the exit, you following behind him, your hand holding Lucy’s tightly, who Travis hadn’t acknowledged at all. Exiting towards the garage where his and your cars are parked, you relax a bit, relieved to be away from the cameras. Lucy walks a bit off to the side to let you two talk, but still close enough to hear, in case he says something he shouldn’t.

“Im glad you accepted my invite.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ve never been to or seen an American Football game.”

“American Football?”

“Well, yeah. The U.S is the only one that plays this sport. Football is played throughout the world.”

“Wow, you’re gonna be like that?” He says, thinking you’re flirting with him by saying his sport isn’t widely played.

“Be like what?”

“Never mind. But I just wanted to ask if you wanna hang out right now? Get to know each other a bit more.” He steps closer towards you, but you step back.

“I’d have to decline. My girlfriend and I have to get back to England. She’s got a couple Football matches coming up.”

“Girlfriend?” Travis is shocked by the information. “I didn’t know you were even with someone.”

“I’m surprised no one knows. They see two girls and automatically think they’re best friends or something. But, no, been with that girl right there four years. It was very obvious.” You wave Lucy over. “Travis this is Lucy Bronze, my girlfriend—”

“—Actually fiancé. Proposed a couple weeks ago, so there’s still some getting used to. It’s nice to meet you mate. Heard you’ve been talking ‘bout my girl pretty often past few weeks.”

The look on Travis’ face is laughable.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, we’re very private people. But now that you’ve met my girl after being all up in her DM’s, you’d stop using her name to stay relevant yeah? ‘Cause it’s making you look desperate.”

You didn’t interfere. You’re stood off to the side, a proud look on your face.

“Yeah, of course. Never again.”

“The last thing you should talk about in that little podcast of yours is a public apology using her name for fame like many men have in the past.”

After a moment of Lucy staring at Travis she speaks up again. It was a bit funny how intimidated he looked at Lucy, seeing as she’s almost a foot shorter than him

“Well, mate, we best be off. I’ve got some Football to be preparing for, my girl by my side always. Best of luck to you. Hope you find someone that isn’t taken.”

With that, she takes a hold of your hand, leading you to the car. You give him a little wave, leaving him speechless in the middle of the parking garage.

———

liked by leahwilliamsonn, lucybronze and 10,375,829 others

yourinstagram Thank you travis for the invite! Had a lot of fun at my first ever American Football game with my Fiancé. Congrats to you and your team on the win! #KansasCityChiefs

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lucybronze very different from football for sure

↳ yourinstagram very different

leahwilliamsonn where was my invite?

↳ yourinstagram you didn’t get one

↳ leahwilliamsonn rude

fan1 SHES ENGAGED

fan2 ynvis isn’t real thank god!

fan3 OHMYGOD ITS LUCY BRONZE ALCJHD

fan4 this is a very polite way of saying ‘keep my name out your fucking mouth’

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader

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upsidedownmvnson · 8 months

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much more interesting things | eddie munson

summary: you're stuck in a rut, and starting to hate your crappy high school friends. eddie helps you see that there are better, more beautiful things out there - he just didn't expect you to think that he was one of them

warnings: underage drinking, shitty ex bfs and friends, cheating ex

a/n: i started this and finished it in like 4 straight hours, replies & comments appreciated, i love feedback fr

Eddie sees you sitting alone in a large group of people.

He recognizes most of them from high school, but he can't put any names to faces. He'd only been graduated a year, but it was like he had no memory of that place, or those people. Trina? Tina? That party girl who hosts that crazy Halloween bash every year... and... uh, Carol? Was that Carol sitting there? No idea.

But he doesn't really care, because he's busy noticing you, and the way you pick at the label on the beer bottle, focusing your gaze on your fidgeting fingers. He notices how you're so ridiculously beautiful. He notices the way you mouth every word to the local musician playing a Johnny Cash cover. But most of all, he notices the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. He notices how you keep looking behind you to the door. Waiting for someone? Or planning an escape? He can't quite tell, but he was dying to find out.

Steve smacks him on the arm, whispering something, and Eddie has to tear his eyes away from you. Robin and Nancy shared a look between themselves, and then looked over at the girl who had Eddie's attention. They started whispering amongst themselves.

"What?" he asks, looking over at Steve, not having heard a word he said.

"I asked if you were ready to go?" Steve repeated, rolling his eyes.

He's not. Eddie is so... intrigued by you that he feels the need to stick around. See who you're waiting for, or hiding from, or ... he doesn't know. Eddie's not even sure what he's expecting.

"You go," he answers after a long minute, "I'm gunna grab another drink at the bar."

"We can stay longer," Nancy suggested, smiling at Eddie, and sneaking another peak at you.

"No, it's okay," Eddie smiled, letting his eyes fall back on you. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

And then they left, saying their goodbyes to their friend and paying their bills, heading off into the parking lot while Eddie took a new seat at the bar. He sat facing away from you, not wanting to be a complete creep, but there was just something that kept him around.

You wanted to leave. This whole idea was stupid, you were stupid for agreeing to it.

A month ago, your best friend had started dating your ex-boyfriend. She didn't exactly ask you if it was okay, she just dropped it on you and expected you to be okay with it. But you were realizing, sitting here celebrating his birthday, that you absolutely were not.

What kind of friend was she, anyway?

You tried pushing passed it, but as you sat their, watching all your other 'friends' laugh and giggle as Tina and Reed climbed all over each other.

It was clear that most of them had known about this little affair long before you had. You needed a drink...

You brought your beer bottle up to the bar, putting all the little pieces of paper you'd ripped off it inside of it. You leaned against the counter beside Eddie, looking over and watching as he chugged a sip of his beer. You watched his adam's apple bob as he drank, but you saw that he was watching you. You thought maybe you'd been him watching earlier too, when his friends were still there.

"Eddie, right?" you said, using him as a distraction. He nearly choked on his beer.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, "hey..."

"y/n," you said, smiling. It was refreshing, Eddie not knowing who you were. He wasn't one of the popular crowd, and you were honestly jealous of that. You wanted to fall away from them. You wanted to fall from grace.

"I knew that," he said, looking away, the lie clear on his features. But you weren't mad, you smiled.

"You didn't," you said, winking at him. How many drinks have you had? You felt the warmth and confidence radiating.

After showing the bartender your handy fake I.D, you ordered a beer and two shots, pushing one towards Eddie. He picked it up, looking at it for a moment, and then you, waiting expectantly to cheers it.

"You don't have to take it," you joked, "but could you let me know so I can put my arm down?"

He chuckled lightly, goofy grin taking over his cheeks, and he cheers you, downing the shot alongside you. It burned, but you liked it. You chased it with a sip of your beer, the bubbles making the linger sting fade.

You heard your friends calling you name, and you turned to see them giggling and whispering. You assumed it was because they thought hanging out with Eddie was slumming it.

"I guess I should get back," you said, your face showing your honest lack of interest.

"Why do you hangout with them if you don't like them?" he asked, and it was your turn to nearly choke on your drink. You coughed, surprised by the suddenly deep line of questioning.

"Who says I don't?"

He laughed, "you should get back, I'd hate to ruin the party."

"That party was ruined when it started," you mumbled, and he just laughed harder.

"Yeah you're right, I really feel the love."

You laughed, and he felt pride settle into his chest. The smile climbed all the way to your eyes, lighting them with a sparkle that made you even more beautiful than you already were. Eddie feels butterflies in his stomach, and he looks away, softly smiling at the beer in his hand.

Talking to Eddie was... fun, and returning to the table full of fake people with fake smiles was ruining that.

"What were you talking to him for?" Carol asked, boney fingers biting into your skin as she held your arm.

"Uh, because I was waiting for a drink and he was sitting there?" you asked, looking at her with a look like she was an idiot. Because she was - she was an idiot.

"Well, don't. He's bad news, and bad publicity."

"Unlike my friends here, who would never do anything to hurt me, right?" you asked, looking to where Reed and Tina were showing a disgusting amount of PDA. Why the fuck were you still sitting here.

"Don't be like that," Carol snapped, "it's not their fault they fell in love. They both felt really bad about it."

"How long have you known about them, anyway?"

Carol looked down at her lap, and Tommy, sitting nearby laughed obnoxiously.

"Go on, tell her." He kept laughing, especially when she hit him on the arm, because apparently everyone in the world was in on. "But tell her the truth..."

Tommy didn't care about the truth, he'd just had five beers and wanted to stir the pot. The people sitting close to you guys had gone quiet, no one willing to meet your eye, while Reed and Tina stayed oblivious to the whole scene, kissing each other like they were alone in her bedroom.

You chugged the beer in your hand, figuring this was probably the end of the party for you, you wouldn't make it through much more without snapping. "Yeah, Carol," you said, slamming the bottle down on the table, but still somehow, Reed and Tina stayed in their trance. "Tell me the truth."

"Three months..." she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on her lap. the table was silent.

"Nooooo," Tommy sing-songed, "I'm pretty sure I said the truth."

"Shut up, Tommy!" Carol snapped, glaring at him. Those two were not perfect for each other, and should probably break up. You grew impatient.

"What can be worse than my best friend going out with my ex right after we broke up?"

"How about fucking behind your back for two months before that."

Carol wouldn't meet your eye, Tommy was laughing, and Reed and Tina had these stupid, guilty pouts on their face like they expected you to never find out. You felt numb, like you should be more mad but you just... didn't care.

Eddie was right, you didn't even like these people.

Your eyes drifted over your shoulder to Eddie, where he was still sitting at the bar, eyes forward but you knew, you knew he was paying attention. He was nothing like anyone sitting with you at that table. He was perfect.

You slid out from the table, chair squealing loudly in the silence, as every looked at you. Fuck these people, fuck this group, fuck this place, and really really fuck Reed and Tina. You were over it, outta here, and moving on, but not before a glorious, "go to hell," that made your chest feel ten time lighter, like a load was suddenly lifted off of it, freeing you from the chains that these poisonous people kept on you.

You didn't storm out, or start crying, or even rush. You just stood up, put your coat on, and sauntered over to where Eddie was sitting, turned towards you and watching with a huge smile on his face, like he was proud of you, and honestly, you were proud of yourself.

"Wanna get out of here?" you asked, leaning beside him again, making sure those assholes could see you were still wearing a pretty smile.

Eddie grinned from ear to ear, saying "lead the way," before getting up and putting on his leather jacket.

Outside of the bar, you two walked silently for a minute. You still weren't even that broken up about it, you kinda suspected he was fooling around behind your back, and you always knew Tina was a shitty a friend, so this was just, what it was.

"Can I just say that was awesome," Eddie said, breaking the silence.

"You can," you smiled, trying to break your thoughts away from them entirely. "And you should."

"Those guys are jerks," he said, "you're better off."

"I know, right?" you laughed, "It's my fault really, I shouldn't have even shown up tonight. I should've ditched them months ago."

"What even was that? Those guys were all over each other the whole time. I don't even think they spoke to any of you after you sat down."

"How long were you watching, creep?"

Eddie blushed, looking down at his feet. You hit him with your elbow, showing him the smile you wore, assuring him that you're just teasing.

"That guy was my ex," you sighed, "and the girl he was with is supposedly my best friend."

Eddie laughed, "I'm sorry, it's not funny," he said, still laughing. "But that's insane."

"Tell me about it," you huffed, kicking a rock with your shoe. You weren't sure if you were leading, or if Eddie was leading, but you were just kind of walking down the dark sidewalk. You were kinda headed towards the elementary school. It was late, sure, but neither of you had a curfew to worry about. "But anyway it was his birthday yesterday, so everyone wanted to go out to celebrate. They're throwing a party at Tina's after, I think the whole school is going."

Eddie hummed in understanding, not really knowing what else to say.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear all about this," you said, "it was the hottest gossip last season."

"I don't really listen to that stuff," he said, shrugging. "I don't think I even really know who Reed is. I feel like Harrington knows him, maybe?"

You nodded. You liked this about Eddie. He didn't want to gossip, or spread rumours, and he didn't revel in other people's misery. He couldn't name the entire basketball team, but you could bet he knew all his friends birthdays, or like, their favourite snack.

Most of your friends nearly missed your birthday if you hadn't reminded them the day before. You'd been with Eddie five minutes, and your other group already could barely hold a light up to him. You can't remember why you hung out with them before, and you can't fathom why you'd never thought Eddie was cute until now.

"So what brought you to the bar tonight? I thought you guys went to that other spot, uh, The Hangout?"

"The Hideout," he corrected, "that's where my band plays. And Steve wanted to go here tonight. He likes the deep fried macaroni bites that you can apparently only get there."

"Ah, I see, so very important stuff."

"Very important."

It fell silent again, and you worried that you'd made a mistake. Like, maybe Eddie didn't want to be here. Like he felt bad for you or something.

"It's nice out here," he said softly, and you noticed he'd stopped a few steps back, you were too distracted by your anxiety to notice. You turned towards him, copying him by tilting your head back, looking at the star filled sky. It was peaceful, standing here with Eddie.

"Yeah," you agreed, letting the beauty of the night's sky clear your anxieties. You'd been so used to shitty friends, that you didn't know what is was really like to be treated nicely.

You were still looking up when Eddie came back into focus on you. You were beautiful. Like, really beautiful. He was kinda shocked when you first spoke to him, and he was totally floored when you asked him to leave with you, smile covered in sincerity and eyes filled with trouble. He knew the odds of this turning out well for him were slim, but he wanted to see it out anyway. You seemed different than the rest of them, and he was going to give you a chance to be.

Your hair was falling over your neck in a way that tempted him you reach out, and brush it over your shoulder.

Instead he looked at his feet, shuffling a rock around while he shook those thoughts out of his head. Obviously after a situation like that you were in a vulnerable state, and he wasn't going to be some jerk who took advantage of that.

"Safety infraction," he said, pointing at your shoe, and before he could stop himself, he was on one knee, tying your shoelace for you. He realized it was entirely dorky and weird to just start tying someone else's shoes, but it would've been weirder to stop.

But you didn't think it was weird at all. You thought it was sweet, and kind, and... well, it made you blush, the burning sensation was so prevalent you knew he'd be able to see it when he looked back up at you, and he did. Eddie took note of the fact that he'd made you smile, blush and laugh all night, without trying.

He thought... Eddie thought maybe there was a chance here, a chance for something special.

You were something special, and it baffled him that more people weren't aware of this. He was confused about how guys weren't throwing themselves at your mercy and declaring their servitude.

"Thanks," you said, smiling as he stood level with you again, and you noticed the light blush across his own cheeks.

"You're welcome," he said, and the two of you started walking again, letting a calm silence fall between you.

You were closer now, so close you could feel the odd brush of his knuckles against the back of yours, and you could hear his breath hitch every time. You wanted him to reach out and grab it, but he didn't.

"C'mon," you said, grabbing his hand and tugging him across the street, "I want to swing."

But neither of you let go once you were across the street. His hand was rough. Hard with callouses from years of guitar, but it was also warm, strong, comforting. You didn't want to compare him to Reed, you had no right to think of Eddie like this, but you couldn't help it. He was cute, and when you were sure he wasn't a rebound moment, you'd tell him.

Eddie didn't let go of your hand until you made it to the swing set, only releasing his grasp to climb onto the swing beside yours. Immediately, he kicked off, trying to swing as high as possible. You swung gently, feeling the breeze and enjoying the moment. Eddie's hair was flying around him wildly, and when he swung forward, all his hair trailing behind him, you could see the unadulterated joy on his face, and it made you smile. It made butterflies flip in your stomach, like a hundred of them were suddenly released into your chest.

"Watch me!" he shouted, jumping off the swing, only to land a few feet away in a thud, shouting a weird sound when he landed. It didn't sound good.

"Hey," you said, slowly down and getting off the swing. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," he said, laying on his back and giving you a thumbs up. "Don't worry about ol' Eddie, he's resilient." But the squeal he let out when he tried to put pressure on his ankle betrayed him.

"Let me help you," you said softly, reaching down to help pull him up. He leaned heavily against you, resting his ankle down, only to wince. "Maybe you should sit down," you said, guiding him to a park bench nearby.

"I don't live far," he said, "through the yard and cut through the Masterly farm, then we're practically there." He coughed, "I mean, if you don't mind, you don't have to I can probably call Wayne at work, there's a payphone-"

"Eddie, stop, of course I'll help you," you said, smiling when he did, despite the pain he felt, he knew you were different. "Let's get you home."

The walk should've been ten minutes, but it turned into over half an hour, with Eddie's injury, he was walking at a snail's pace. He kept repeating how you didn't need to suffer this with him, but you wouldn't hear it. He was helping you in ways he wouldn't understand, just by being a kind presence, showing you that there are much more interesting things out there, way more interesting than some shitty friends.

The whole time you guys just talked. You told him about how you've been feeling lately, neglected and sad. And he told you about his mom and Wayne, and how he wants to pursue music.

At this point, you were sure it wasn't any kind of rebound thing.

When you got to the trailer park, he got quiet, hesitant, like he expected you to take off at the sight of his home. But you weren't fazed. You just helped him in without saying anything, sitting him on the couch.

"Can I take a look?"

"If you've got the stomach for it," he joked, hitting himself in the forehead when you looked away.

But you just laughed, slowly untying his shoe, trying to take it off without hurting him. He didn't say anything, just watched as you did so. He thought you would drop him inside and head out, bu here you were, sliding off his sock with the most gentle touch he'd ever felt.

"It's swollen pretty bad," you said, "ice?"

"I think we've got peas?"

You nodded, getting off the couch and bringing yourself to the kitchen. He watched you shuffle around in the freezer, followed by the drawers. He said nothing, just watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, relishing in the fact there was this work of art in his kitchen.

You finally found a clean dish towel, and wrapped the peas in it, bringing them over to your damsel in distress.

"Thanks," he said, unable to look away. you focused on his ankle, the purple bruise already covering the large bump on the side.

"I don't think it's broken," you said, "but maybe you should get it checked out by a doctor."

"Do you think it can wait until tomorrow? There's a nurse in the green trailer," he said, bashful, "she usually helps us out."

"Yeah, I think so."

It was quiet for a moment before he said, "do you think you would want to stay for a bit?" You both looked away, both suddenly shy and blushing.

"Yeah," you said, "you should really lay down though, and get some pillows under your leg."

"You can come in there," he said, sounding a little too eager. "Not like, for any funny business," he said, catching himself on his embarrassment, but taking solace in your little giggle. "We can just hang out."

"C'mon," you said, grabbing the frozen peas and helping him back up. You helped him into his room, asking where you could find him a pair of sweats to replace his jeans were, and throwing them over when you got them. You turned around, giving him some privacy. You saw his music, and decided to help yourself and put some low music on.

"Thanks again," he said, clearly struggling to undress and dress while laying down. "For helping me home, and- uh, and everything else."

"No problem," you said, shuffling your weight between your feet. "Can I look?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

While laying there, he looked devilishly good. You felt bad for his ankle, sure, but he'd taken his shirt off, his soft tummy on full display, and his legs were strewn between the white sheets, his good leg tucked under, but his bad leg bare, showing his grey sweatpants. His hair was messy, splayed over his neck and shoulders, and he looked good enough to eat.

"Can I sit?"

Eddie smiled, "of course," he said, shuffling over to make space for you.

It was later than you realized, and you were suddenly exhausted. Or maybe you were just justifying crawling into Eddie's bed at your first opportunity. You set up a few pillows under his leg, leaving none left for yourself, just one for Eddie.

"Take one back," he said, pulling it out from the stack. "You need one too."

"No, no," you pulled it out of his hands and returned it, instead opting to lay into his side, resting your head on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his breathing get faster. He smelled like freshly fallen leaves, cinnamon, and the faint smell of weed. It was intoxicating... "Is this okay?"

"It's perfect," he said, wrapping a hesitant arm around you, pulling him in closer to you, "absolutely perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader

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derangedanomaly · 3 months

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if it's ok can you do both the bad sanses and star sanses and epic and cross with an S/O who is a musician. Like they can sing and play guitar, keyboard, ect and performs at clubs

This was a little difficult (since there's so many characters), but it was fun. ^^ (I also didn't do Epic and Cross, since it was too much for me, sorry for that. Maybe I'll do them in a different post, if you still want them?)

Masterlist

SANS AUS X MUSICIAN READER

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Error, Dream, Swap, Ink)

Nightmare:

Nightmare's gonna be so surprised by your skills when it comes to playing so many instruments. He can actually play on a piano, so he will want to play together with you at some point, after he gets more comfortable around you.

He definitely doesn't think you'll be of good use when it comes to combat, but... He WILL want to stick around while you're playing any instrument, all while doing his paperwork.

Nightmare definitely appreciates when a great talent is put to a good use, so he'll arrange a night that happens once every week, where everyone in the castle relaxes, while attending to your little show.

Damn, you feel like quite a celebrity in Nightmare's castle.

Anyways, Nightmare respects you for having such talent, but probably won't respect you outside of that. He's just like that. 😐

It's like he has two different personalities that are switching depending on the situation. If it's a situation where you're performing: "I must say, Y/n, that was an exquisite performance that you played there. I can't wait to listen to it again, when we'll have the chance." But if it's in battle... "YOU DUMB FUCKING BITCH, STOP STANDING THERE BEING SO USELESS!!!" Then you two argue. 💀

He will soften up to you when the time comes, but you know... His shell is tough to crack.

Killer:

BRO'S LIKE -> :O

He gets so hyper after knowing that you can play so many instruments. He's gonna tell you every flirting pun revolving around music known to man. He literally won't stop coming up with new puns, it's a special skill of his at this point..

He literally won't leave you alone while you're preparing to train playing on another instrument. He's such a menace... he just wants to bother you 😂

Doesn't like how Nightmare treats you just because you're "useless" in combat. So he'll try to help you out in that department. He'll tell you some shit like "you could really rip someone's head off with this guitar" 💀 it's the thought that counts.

Wrote a music sheet for you once. It was just scribbles, that he thought you would understand 💀 but after you'd told him that no, you do not understand, he would try to recreate the sounds he meant for you to play, with his own voice...

"Ok, it goes like this! Meew mew pew bom boom! Got it?" You do not understand. 💀

Dust:

You'd think that being the smartest, he'd know a thing or two about musical instruments, but the truth is...he knows NOTHING about that. So having someone so skilled and knowledgeable like you, got him super excited!

He loves learning about new things, so prepare to be bombarded with lots of questions.

After you answer any of his questions and after a countless times of him watching/listening you play... He official wants to learn to play on an instrument! I mean, he once knew how to play the trombone! But it was long since those days, and he completely forgot everything about it, and it would be nice to learn how to play on a different instrument. :)

He's so supportive and tentative to you 😭 he's the first to come to your rescue whenever you're having a tough time in a battle!

Horror:

He doesn't think much of it. Not pretty big when it comes to playing an instrument, but it is nice to listen to you while he's drifting off to sleep.

He doesn't really care for it, hence -> he won't know anything about it. But he will support you. (Depending on what relationship you two have)

Just like the others, he also attends the times you play for the others, but only really focus on you. Not much on your skill.

He just likes you for you, no special skill is going to change that.

Horror is pretty much like your personal guardian when it comes to battles. As stated all the other times, your skill isn't really fit for battlefield, unless......

Horror actually helps you out a lot in this field. He gives you advice on how to use your skills in battle. And they're actually really good! (Unlike Killer's 💀)

He doesn't even know that the things he's saying are actually very helpful 💀

He just says what sounds right for him.

Lmao, bro absentmindedly helps you out the most of the bunch, which is actually really funny.

Error:

Also not big on instruments, but he sees you as an inspiration. Knowing how to play so many instruments is pretty impressive. And you do it flawlessly too!

He also, like the others attends your little "shows".

No matter what you play, he WILL fall asleep. It's not because it's boring, but your music is just calming to him.

You could be playing like a rock music, and he WILL STILL fall asleep. 💀

It's pretty much just impressive from his side at this point.

He thinks that you're actually pretty good in battle. Doesn't know what the other's are on about.

He would suspect you would be dead in seconds, but you actually survive them! Sure, not without injuries, but still. You can defend yourself somehow.

Dream:

Loves to hear you play the more calming instruments, rather than the loud ones. (Rock, Metal, etc. just won't do for him 😭)

He's seriously so proud of you!

As stated before, he doesn't like it when you're playing something loud. It hurts his nonexistent ears 💀🙏🏻

Almost burned your electric guitar one day... Says that it was an accident. (It wasn't.) Look, it was just in the way, and he wasn't looking! (It was annoying him, so he almost committed murder against your guitar 💀)

He hates loud instruments partly because he's supposed to be the protector of hopes and dreams, but it's mostly because it reminds him of his brother... :(

Always rushes to your rescue when in battle. Actually, doesn't even let you fight in the battles.

He just doesn't want to see you harmed in any way. Can't let his little muse die.

Ink:

Unlike Dream, Ink LOVES the loud instruments. (He also thinks you look attractive when playing them, but that's besides the point)

He's constantly encouraging you to play them, which irks Dream in return.

He thinks you're matching with the both of you having "artistic" hobbies. (He's actually so cute while saying that, like it's his best accomplishment)

If he could, he would sell his BRUSH just to hear you sing (not broomie 😭)

Comes to your shows whenever he remembers. His memory isn't that great, as we know.... So he'll most likely forget, and then remember when it's too late. He feels so bad that you actually can't help but feel sad for him.

He's actually on his knees, begging you for forgiveness. (You're not actually mad at him) He's such a sub while doing this that it's crazy 💀

Gets annoyed by your lack of fighting skills. Can't help but roll his eyes. (He'll still help you, because he likes you. But he WILL complain)

Just give him new pencils after, and he'll stop with the complaints.

Swap:

He's at awe at your skills. You inspire him to start learning himself! Of course he tries to learn by himself at first, due to not wanting to bother you. But after he figures out he can't learn by himself, he goes to you for help.

He's a really fast learner, so he gets the hang of it almost immediately. Which you appreciate. ^^

He also comes to listen to you performing! He swore to you that he'd come at every show. And he never broke it either!

After he gets better at his selective instrument and after he'll get more confident, he'll want to join you to perform with you! (Of course, if it's ok with you)

I swear, he's so supportive.

Doesn't care about your lack of fighting skills. It just gives him an excuse to protect you to be honest.

He seriously loves to be your knight in shining armor, definitely has this little fantasy that you're a princess/prince and he's the knight saving you from the HORRIBLE monster. (Nightmare)

#undertale fandom #undertale #sans undertale #sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #killer sans x reader #error sans x reader #horror sans x reader #dream sans x reader #swap sans x reader #ink sans x reader

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Text

celebrity skin. (part two)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.5k summary: your night with eddie continues to haunt you. and now you have to work together — what could go wrong?

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: smut with a plot, oral (fem receiving), aftercare, suggestive & mature themes, other mentions of sex (nothing graphic), adult language, use of pet names, mutual pining, emotional hurt / comfort, topics of guilt / regret — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Eddie Munson hurt your feelings.

Granted, you were just as much to blame. Rockstars are always nothing but trouble and you knew that when you jumped into bed with him.

‘Cause why would Eddie Munson be any different from all the other musicians you’d slept with in the past? He gave you no reason to think otherwise. He never promised you anything.

Letting him occupy your heart and mind after only one night together was your own damn fault, though it was easier to blame him. And you could make a list of excuses, reasons as to why you did what you did, but it really came down to one simple thing: Eddie seemed… different. Almost as if he also wanted to continue this past some single fling.

You asked to stay over. He immediately agreed.

Why? If he was only going to say the night meant nothing to him, why did he agree? Why did he pull you under the silk covers and wrap his arm around your bare shoulder, placing a gentle kiss to your crown? Why did he hold your hand close to his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat as he opened up about his past? Why did he let you trace your fingers along his scars?

If it was just about having sex with you, why did Eddie act like he cared what you thought of him? He could have kicked you out the second you came down to earth following your orgasm, not kiss you again with a feverness that made you believe he was silently begging for more — which foolishly, you gave him.

Then you didn’t call immediately, like you said you would. Again, only you were to blame here, but in your own defence, you didn’t think he’d act so coldly towards you. It was just one delayed phone call and he knew better than anyone how plans often change when you’re in the limelight.

Proof was in the pudding. Eddie didn’t like you nearly as much as he led you to believe he did — as much as you liked him.

And it was fucking foolish of you to fall for him the way you did. Holly thought so too. She actually had a lot of opinions after you told her why you bailed on her at the party.

“Boys are all the same,” she stated while applying the finishing touches to your makeup. “They have one thing on their mind and when they get it, no matter how sweet they act towards you, you’re unfortunately disposable.”

“Eddie doesn’t seem like that,” you defended, which only caused Holly to roll her eyes.

“Hate to be the one to break this to you, but Eddie Munson is exactly that type of guy.”

The cherry on top of this godforsaken mess was your Nana who somehow caught wind of your salacious activities with the Corroded Coffin frontman. She confronted you at her charity luncheon of all places and was actually the main reason you had called him with such a delay, meaning she was also partially to blame for how things turned out in the end.

“You’re not to go anywhere near that boy again,” it almost sounded like a threat. “He’s no good for you or your image. Can you imagine the news? America’s sweetheart canoodling with a devil worshipper. You would be ruined.”

“He’s not a devil worshipper—”

“I don’t want to hear you defending him,” your Nana interjected and looked around, probably to make sure no one was listening in on the conversation. “Honey, I’m just trying to protect you. You’re still a little young to understand just how long our mistakes can follow us around for.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “But I guess you have experience in this area.” And with that you walked away. She didn’t follow.

A few days later, after your brief conversation with Eddie, you showed up at her apartment with tears in your eyes, repeating how she was right — not necessarily the devil worship stuff, just the “not being good for you” piece.

Mid-September 1992, Eddie was supposed to be in New York with his band to perform on Saturday Night Live. He told you that in between trailing kisses down your jawline: “Just in case it’s hard for us to find time to see together,” where his exact words, “This one is a guarantee.”.

You half-debated going to the after party. It wouldn’t be hard to get your name on the guest list, just one simple call from your management team. You even knew what you could wear. Chanel had sent you this gorgeous little black blazer-dress from their Fall 1991 collection, gold buttons at the front creating a v-neck that perfectly accentuated your chest. It was tame enough to keep in style with your image, but bold enough to hail the attention of the Corroded Coffin frontman.

As you stared at the dress however, you knew going would be a mistake. He’d likely view it as an act of despair and the last thing you wanted to do is give him any more power in this situation. So you opted to watch the show from the comfort of your own sofa. Your younger sister Valentine, named after the most romantic day of the year (according to your parents), Val for short, came over to watch with you.

Turns out Val is a big Corroded Coffin fan. Luckily, she remains blissfully unaware of what had gone down between you and the lead singer of her favourite band.

Val ended up being the person who pushed you to do the feature on Corroded Coffin’s upcoming single. She is the person who actually got you to listen to the demo in the first place.

The opportunity first presented itself around January of 1993. After weeks of trying to forget about Eddie Munson, and the way his touch made you feel, your team flushed all that hard work down the toilet in one short meeting. They presented an idea you really wanted no part of — a quick feature that was gonna cost nothing, but make you (and them) five times as much, if not more.

Your initial reaction was a plain and simple no. You had brushed it off as their music not being within your wheelhouse and for a second, they agreed. Only Val had come to the meeting with you. She was only supposed to be a silent observer and take notes for her Business Management module. Of course, she didn’t listen.

“Oh my god! Your voice blended with Eddie Munson’s would make for an automatic hit,” she exclaimed and you swore then you were going to kill her.

“Their sound is just not my thing,” you explained calmly.

“At least listen to the demo before you make any final decisions,” Val reasoned, earning herself nods and yeses from your management team.

Losing the battle, you made your way to the nearest empty recording room with the CD in hand. Knowing this was already hard enough, you asked to go alone. Val was the only one to put up any sort of fight, but older sister rules and she quickly changed her tune.

When the first few notes began to play through the speakers, you felt gratified because the song was totally opposite of what your fanbase enjoyed — just like you rationalised. However, then the melody slowed down. The heavy guitar from the intro was instead replaced by a more acoustic sound, and the loud drums, reduced to a simple beat. They were a mere decoration to the main event. Eddie and his hypnotic vocals.

“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me Let’s call it honesty

You’re a devil in disguise No, that’s what I want you to be ‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream An angel for sure To a non-believer like me Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”

You’re not sure at which point of listening to the demo you started to cry, but you did. The tears are slow, trailing down your cheeks as you clutch the empty CD case tight to your chest.

Was it egotistical to think he’d written this song about you? Most definitely. Yet the sheer emotion in Eddie’s voice, not to even mention the lyrics themselves, made it quite hard to say otherwise.

“Why do they want me?” You asked once you had returned to the room, after listening to the demo three times in a row and taking an additional ten minutes to compose yourself. “They can have any female singer on this, why me?”

“The request came from someone above the band.”

It wasn’t the answer you had secretly hoped for, but you agreed to do the feature nonetheless. There was no denying, the track had huge hit potential, especially as a duet. And Val was right, your vocals mixed with Eddie’s were going to make history. Your reasons for saying yes, however, were a little different. You really just needed to be a hundred percent sure Eddie wrote this song about you.

March 1993 and the day you’d been stressing about since you agreed to do the song had finally arrived.

You had put on the most comfortable yet sexy outfit you could find and done your makeup differently to what Eddie would have seen you in. sprayed on some rose-scented perfume and plastered on a big smile, the fakest sincere shit you had become quite the expert at over the years — your trademark.

The band's manager, Marianne, greeted you on arrival. Holly and your bodyguard, Hank, had come with you to the recording session. You asked Holly to be there as emotional support and Hank was there just to get his paycheck. Either way, you were quite glad not to be facing this alone.

Everything’s fine, you told yourself as you followed Marianne across the building and to a studio where the producer and a handful of sound technicians were waiting for you. Finn, Jane, Kit, and Gavin — in no particular order of importance, their own words. Happy to be working with you, can’t wait to make some magic, big fans of your work, etc. You just smiled. Then Marianne opened the door to the room behind the sound-proof glass and a shiver ran down your spine once you walked through.

Although you did your best to not look his way, Eddie’s presence was instantly known to your senses. As though no one else was ever here, all you could feel was his eyes on you and it caused your heart to rattle inside your ribcage. The sheer fact of being in the same room as him again, after all this time apart, was infuriating yet exciting at the same time. You wondered what he was thinking, was he happy to see you? Surprised? Annoyed?

Holly was on your heels, saying her charming hello’s to everyone you had just introduced yourself to. She actually met Jeff at Eddie’s party so the two of them hugged like old pals and within a split-second, they were off to the side, catching up. You lost your protector quite possibly at the worst time.

“And our frontman, Eddie Munson.” Marianne introduced, one hand hovering over your back while the other extended in the direction of the curly-haired man,

You focused your attention on her arm, refusing to look up and meet Eddie’s chocolate gaze. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as he wiped his palms on the pleather of his pants and held out his right hand in your direction. You glanced at it briefly, the smile on your face faltering.

Suddenly, he was right there. Right at your fingertips. Just take his hand, you thought to yourself, it’s not that big a deal, just take his hand and look at him.

“We’ve met before,” you said with little to no emotion, and without meeting his gaze, then quickly turned to Marianne. “Should we just get started? I listened to the song, I have no notes, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Marianne seemed to be taken aback by your abrupt change in attitude. She glanced at Eddie then back at you. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Of course. Right this way.”

The two of you silently left Eddie’s side, though you continued to feel his eyes burning into your frame. This whole situation was honestly nauseating. Not only were you forced to face the memories of this one magical night you shared with the famous rockstar, you were also about to sing a duet together, a song he most likely wrote about said night. All while pretending you don’t care about him or the night in question.

Marianne propped you in front of a microphone and handed you a set of headphones and shortly after the band had taken their places. You glanced across the room at Holly who gave you an encouraging thumbs up before hurrying out to re-join Finn, Jane, Kit, Gavin, and your bodyguard, Hank.

Your heart was hammering inside your chest. This was so beyond fucked, you almost wished it wasn’t too late to back out. The only thing making this just a little bit worth it was Eddie’s clear discomfort. He was the last to take his place at the microphone placed only a feet away from yours, his movements reluctant. You still refused to look at him, focusing instead on the carpet between your feet, hands now on your hips.

“You know what I’m gonna say,” Marianne’s voice echoed through the room, “The day I don’t say it though is gonna be the day we make a shit piece of art so, here goes, good luck and have fun.”

An unsettling silence filled the air as soon as she closed the door behind her.

You weren’t sure how their band sessions really went, who took the lead and who followed. You hoped someone would speak so you wouldn’t be the first, but no one did. Eddie’s eyes were burning into the side of your head. At this point you were starting to think the universe was playing some sick joke on you. So you glanced upwards, first behind the glass to where you located Holly who gave you another thumbs up, and then you tilted your head in the direction of the man next to you.

You exhaled softly and leaned in closer to the microphone before saying, “Honesty, take one.”

Eddie had thought about you every single day since that fateful night in August. The memory of you, your smile, the colour of your eyes, how you felt to the touch, the pretty sounds you made just for him, it had occupied his mind permanently. And he tried to get over you, really, but nothing seemed to do the trick. Not the drinking, not the weed, not losing himself in music, not even hooking up with strangers after the bands’ shows.

He was a goner, yet too fucking stubborn to call or try contact you in any way.

But now here you are, a mere arms-length away, and you’re singing the song he wrote about you, harmonising with little to no effort as you stare right into his big eyes. Eddie is staring back at you, holding your gaze ‘cause he’s afraid if he’d look away, you’d never look at him again. He wants to know what you’re thinking. He’s trying to decipher the angry sadness behind your eyes. Not like he deserves anything from you, but he wants to know how you’ve been. Most importantly, he wants to know if you even like the song?

“Okay,” Marianne pops her head in as the track ends, “Let’s break for lunch.”

Everyone starts to gather whatever they might need for the next hour — bag, bottled water, smokes — before following Marianne out of the recording studio. You’re still staring at Eddie and he’s thinking now’s his chance to talk to you. However, just as he’s about to open his mouth to start perhaps the most awkward conversation, you drop his gaze and hurry out the door.

“Shit,” the curly-haired rockstar curses under his breath then proceeds to follow you down the long hallway until you disappear into the ladies toilets. “Shit,” Eddie swears again as the door closes in front of his face. He runs a hand through his locks, debating whether he should continue his chase, though, eventually, he decides going inside would be a total breach of privacy. Instead, he leans across from the entrance, lights a cigarette, and waits. You’re bound to return at some point and when you do, he’s going to be here and you would have to talk to him.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long.

The door opens slowly and you emerge, wiping your hands on your denim skirt. Attention solely on fixing your outfit, it takes you a second to realise Eddie’s there ‘cause honestly you didn’t even know he followed you. As you take a step forward and his worn-out converse sneakers come into view, you swallow.

Closing your eyes momentarily, a desperate attempt at some kind of composure in this situation. Ultimately, there’s no use in continuing this childish game of cat and mouse so you gaze upon him.

“Hi Eddie,” you say with all the confidence you can muster.

He exhales a puff of smoke, then replies, “Hey, sweetheart.”

Your heart aches at the moniker and you can’t help but wonder if it’s a nickname solely reserved for you, or if he goes around calling everybody he sleeps with. After all, with the way things turned out to be, you were simply a number on his undoubtedly long list of conquests. You weren’t special.

“It’s nice to see you,” Eddie admits, though his words only twist the imaginary dagger he had jabbed into your heart. “You look… great.”

This makes you roll your eyes. Truthfully, you didn’t have high expectations for your first conversation with the Corroded Coffin frontman, but there was something about him casually flirting as if nothing had happened, that made your blood boil.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

He’s taken aback by your words and the harshness behind them. Obviously he messed up, treated you with an indifference no one deserves to experience, especially someone with a heart as pure as yours. To hear you say that though, mixed with the pure agony behind your eyes, it makes him feel sick.

About to walk away, you turn on your heel. Eddie puts out the half-finished cigarette against the wall, letting the bud drop to the floor, and reaches out to grab your arm. Surprisingly, you don’t flinch at his touch, not at first anyway, which gives him enough time to step in front of you and lift his hands to cup your cheeks.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie begins in a whisper, thumbs caressing along your cheekbones. Your skin is softer than he remembers and it only makes his heart ache more, mournful for the time lost.

“Let me go,” you plead quietly and shake your head, fingers attaching themselves to his wrists, digging at the dips in his knuckles and the valleys of space where his hold met yours, in an attempt to separate the two of you.

Eddie doesn’t budge. He’s stood firm as you claw at him, trying to break free from his grasp. If anything, he inclines closer and in the space of a single heartbeat, you can feel his hot breath as he dips his head to your level, forcing you to meet his gaze. There’s a sense of despair behind his brown eyes and you almost stop fighting.

Almost.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Okay? Is that what you wanna hear?”

His words, although an apology, didn’t sound like one. To you, it seemed like Eddie wasn’t actually sorry for his actions, he just hated the fact that you were giving him the cold shoulder. He wanted to be in your good graces not ‘cause your night meant something to him, but because he had a bruised ego. A cruel joke really.

So you clear your throat and call on the only person guaranteed to get you away from his situation.

“Hank,” there’s very little power behind your voice and Eddie furrows his brows a little confused at first, but then you move your head to the best of your current ability past Eddie’s shoulder and say his name louder, “Hank!”

“Please—”

“Hank!”

Eddie drops his hold on you then and runs a hand down his face as you take a single step forward, arm brushing against his a little too steadily to be called an accident. Seconds pass and neither of you moves, each staring in a separate direction while your bodies continue to press together. Eddie extends his fingers. You feel the metal of his rings and the air hitches in your throat.

How come one second you cannot wait to get away from him and the next you’re aching for his touch? One second you’re pushing him away and the next your fingers are intertwining themselves with his. It was fucking messed up, hating him yet caring for him at the same time, and you didn’t want to feel this way anymore.

When your army-veteran bodyguard appears at the end of the hall, you snatch your hand away from Eddie’s grasp and plaster a fake smile on your face.

“Everything okay, miss?” Hank asks, glancing between the two of you.

“Can you call the car? I’m not feeling well.”

He nods. “Right away.” Then disappears just as fast as he rushed to your aid.

You’re once again left alone with Eddie. Only this time, the Corroded Coffin frontman makes no attempt to reach out for you. Instead, he slides his hands in the pocket of his jacket and tilts his head in your direction. You can see him from the corner of your eyes and it takes all the strength you have to not look his way.

“I am sorry,” he says in a defeated tone, “Whether you choose to believe me or not.”

With that, he walks away.

The world hadn’t stopped spinning since your earlier interaction with the Corroded Coffin frontman.

You felt sick while recounting the moment on loop. The sad look in his eyes, the defeated sound of his voice. His body language was screaming I wanna be closer to you, unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out if he was being sincere, if this whole situation really weighed on him as deeply as it did you.

Holly had berated you for even indulging in a conversation with him, to which you huffed and puffed ‘cause she’s the one who left you alone in the first place for “not-a-date” lunch with Jeff.

“Hope you at least got some,” you tease, rummaging through your half-unpacked suitcase for the box of smokes you carefully hid in there, for emergency situations only.

Holly laughs from her spot on the sofa. You can’t see her face, but you can tell she’s smiling. “Shut the fuck up,” she deflects with a giggle, “We went for some friendly burgers. I wasn’t looking for anything else.”

“Was Jeff?” You quip, placing a cigarette between your lips and reaching for the ashtray. You carry the item towards one of the hotel windows before lighting the tip, slowly inhaling.

“You’re unbearable, you know that?” Holly jests, shifting in her spot to look at you. “Just ‘cause you’re sexually frustrated.”

You smirk, exhaling some smoke. “What gave you that idea?”

Holly raises a brow, an amused look spread across her face, and points to the cigarette you’re holding onto. Before she can make her point of you only smoking when you’re stressed or craving some action — and in this instance, it’s clearly both — there’s a knock on the door. The two of you glance in its direction then back at each other.

“Where you expecting—”

“No,” you answer before Holly can finish her question, “You?”

She shakes her head in response. There’s another knock, louder this time. You quickly put the cigarette out and waved the curtain around, your best attempt to somewhat ventilate just in case this was a surprise visit from your Nana who, despite being a heavy smoker herself, would kill you for indulging in the cancer sticks.

While you spray some perfume on, Holly walks towards the door. She shoots you one last glance, making sure you were presentable for whoever was on the other side of that door, then opens to reveal someone you both were least expecting.

Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh,” he breathes, brows up, “I didn’t think—”

“What are you doing here, Munson?” Holly interrupts, holding onto the door so he knew he wasn’t welcome inside.

“Shit, if you just let me finish.” Eddie grumbles back. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here. I came to see her.” He looks at you then and your heart twists the second your eyes meet his.

Holly tilts her head in your direction and a sigh escapes her lips. There’s a reason she’s your closest friend. She can read you like a book and the expression on your face right now, gaze not leaving Eddie’s even for a second, is telling her to let the rockstar in — whether she agrees with that or not.

So she drops her arm and pushes the door wider before stepping to the side. Eddie looks at her then back at you. He walks inside, not wanting to waste this opportunity since he didn’t know how long it would last, as Holly approaches you. The girl places her hands on your cheeks, forcing you to focus on her just for a moment.

“If you need me, I’m right next door, ‘kay?” Holly whispers and you nod. “Shout, scream, do whatever. I’ll come runnin’. I’m here for you, this time.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“Always,” Holly affirms then lets go of you. She straightens her top before turning around and walking back to where Eddie stood with his hands in his pockets. She sizes up the curly-haired man, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she shuts the door with a timid bang.

Silence settles in the air. Once again, it’s just you and Eddie staring at one another with immense longing yet sadness. Only, unlike earlier today, you don’t want to run away.

There are approximately three pieces of furniture between the two of you and the longer he continues to look at you with his doe-eyes, you’re calculating how exactly to manoeuvre around them to hug him, putting an end to this entire charade.

Something is still holding you back, however.

“What are you doing here, Eddie?”

He swallows and proceeds to hesitantly walk towards you, past the sofas you were debating jumping over mere seconds ago. He stops about an arms-length away, careful not to totally invade your personal space in fear of you pulling away again. Instead, he leans against the back of one of the couches and tilts his head to the side.

“What do you think of my song?”

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Do you like it?” Eddie asks, but doesn’t give you enough time to answer, “I’m thinking you do since you agreed to be on it, but then again maybe you don’t and your reason for doing the feature is to mess with my fucking head.” His fingers are at his temple, pointing to emphasise his words.

There’s an ache in your chest. “You really think that low of me?”

Eddie’s face falls at the deflated tone of your voice and he’s cursing himself for hurting your feelings again. He didn’t mean to. Word vomit, is how his uncle Wayne described it back when Eddie was still living in Hawkins, it’s as though Eddie’s mouth and brain didn’t connect.

He sighs, running a hand through his locks. “I gotta get something off my chest, just in case you kick me out and we never get a chance another to talk alone,” he says then takes in a deep breath, “You probably don’t wanna hear this, and you probably won’t even believe me, but I genuinely cannot stop thinking about you.”

Your face softens at his confession, though you remain in place, arms crossed.

Eddie continues. “And I’ve never experienced that with anyone. I certainly didn’t expect to feel these things for you, especially after spending only one night together. Which is why I acted like a dick when you called. I was hurt that you hadn’t reached out sooner considering how near perfect that night was.”

A timid smile circles your features. Briefly, you’re cursing yourself for giving in to his charm so easily. Very briefly.

“Mr. Rock ‘n’ Roll isn’t used to having someone else’s life take priority over his, huh?”

That’s when Eddie laughs, and the second the melodic chuckle falls from his lips, you drop your arms and take a step towards him. Your fingers reach for his instinctively and he takes your hand gladly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Totally not, no.” He admits. “But I am willing to change.”

“Hmm,” you hum, lifting your other hand to brush a loose strand of his brown locks away from his face. “Hope you’re a man of your word ‘cause I’m booked and busy. Can’t have you throw a fit every time I don’t call you.”

The smile on Eddie’s face widens. His right arm makes its way around your waist and he pulls you in, effectively closing the gap between you. His gaze drops to your lips, if only for a split second as he licks his own, then meets your eyes once again.

“I wanna do this right,” he mutters, his grip on you tightening. “I don’t want us to just jump the gun again and leave things lost in translation, so before we do anything else, I’d like to take you on a date, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat ‘cause who knew Eddie Munson was such a damn romantic — definitely not you.

“And where would we go on this date?” You muse, “Since we can’t really blend in with a crowd.”

Eddie purses his lips together, pondering your question. He lets go of you and places his hands on his hips as he walks around the room. You’re following him with your gaze, the smile ever-present. Then his eyes twinkle.

“Well, how about right here, baby? We can order some room service and watch MTV in bed.” The rockstar announces, pointing to the California King and wiggling his brows.

So that’s exactly what the two of you do.

With a tray of overpriced hotel food between you and the current top tracks blasting through the television speakers, the evening was perhaps the most normal you both have felt in a really long time. Eddie, of course, gave his opinion on every song that played in the countdown while stuffing his face with french fries. Most were unsurprising, like Whitney Houston’s I WIll Always Love You, well Dolly Parton’s is miles better in his humble opinion, or Bon Jovi’s Bed of Roses, the guitar makes the song. Then came number three on the list.

You visibly grimace while moving the now empty tray to the floor beside the bed and Eddie chuckles lightly.

“Not a fan of your own music?”

Shaking your head, you sit back although closer to him since there was no longer anything between you. “Just not my best song, is all.”

Eddie nods, resting his hand on your thigh and turns his attention back to the TV. Suddenly, you’re feeling nervous. For one, he’s touching you, thumb gently rubbing circles into your bare flesh. Then there was the music video which, as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Eddie seemed to be totally hypnotised by.

And full transparency, he was. How could he not be? It was a one-shot type video of you singing while walking down the street as it poured rain. The outfit you had on was sticking to your skin as a result, hair wet and makeup smudged. Raw, is the first word that came to Eddie’s mind. Not to mention completely different from your usual vibe.

“You gotta give yourself more credit, sweetheart.” Eddie says after a minute and tilts his head to look at you. “Personally, I like this a lot more than your other shit.”

You meet his gaze. “You don’t think it’s too… desperate? Like yeah, the song is making rounds and charting in all sorts of places, but it’s so—”

“It’s about me, isn’t it?” He interrupts, scanning your eyes for the answer he already knows.

“Yeah…” You exhale. “Like I said, desperate.”

He squeezes your thigh before effortlessly throwing your legs across his lap and pulling you in even closer. One hand remains in your lap while the other makes way around your lower back, settling on the curve of your ass — all without breaking eye contact.

“There’s nothing desperate about you, sweetheart.” He mutters, face now inches away from yours. “I wrote a song too, remember? One we’re actually performing together, which is arguably way worse.”

That makes you chuckle lightheartedly as Eddie continues, “Plus, you look fucking hot in that music video. Anybody that says differently is stupid and/or blind. If anything, I’m glad I inspired all that.” His voice fizzles into something darker for the end of that sentence while his eyes snap to your mouth.

You can feel him under your legs as he presses his forehead to yours, all of him. It doesn’t help that he’s so pretty from this angle. The curve of his jawline. The dips in his cheeks. His doe-eyes focused solely on yours, dimming by the second with longing. And just like that, almost as if no time had passed, you’re back where you both started. Hearts beating in tandem. Eagerly waiting with anticipation for the other to make the first move.

“I really wanna do this right, baby.” He repeats his earlier statement, but the way he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, dragging it down till it bounces back gently in place, betrays his words.

“We don’t have to do anything right now.” And although you mean it, you hope he doesn’t give up too easily.

Eddie exhales. Eyes closing momentarily. He’s fighting every urge ‘cause he doesn’t want to fuck this up again. For once in his life, he wants to see where things can go. But the feeling of your skin, the smell of your perfume, and the memory of you moaning his name so sweetly, well it’s got his heart racing and his dick harder.

The hand on your thigh tightening in grip, causing you to whimper delicately. And that’s when he loses the internal battle.

“Fuck it.”

He wastes no more time, slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You immediately kiss him back, hands settling on his neck, nails digging into the sensitive skin. He’s groaning against your mouth at the contact, pushing into you further so that you can feel his cock twitch against your leg. And you’re convinced that if you were standing, it would make your knees buckle.

Heads rotating side to side, nose grazing against one another with each wet kiss, Eddie adjusts your positions so that you were now fully resting on your back as he lingered over you. One of his hands was now on your waist, holding you firmly in place as he starts to grind his hips into yours.

“Eddie…” You moan against his puffy lips.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.” Eddie affirms quietly, trailing hot kisses from the dip of your lips down your jaw. And he desperately wants to stay true to his word so before you get a chance to react, he’s removing your underwear then slides down until his head is between your thighs.

You let out a tender giggle as his facial hair grazes against your skin. Eddie shushes you and after adjusting your skirt for easier access, he begins to place kisses along your inner thigh, drawing closer and closer to his desired destination. Aching for his touch, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug at his curls. He smirks against your flesh and proceeds to spread your lips with his fingertips, revealing how wet you truly are, then blows several cool breaths over your hot clit.

He proceeds to gently slide his tongue up and down your pussy, so slowly, you feel every moment of pleasure. Then he flicks his tongue over your clit, sucking and licking the sensitive area until you’re a panting mess. And when you moan his name, Eddie works a little faster. Then continues to increase his speed as his tongue darts in and out of your dripping cunt.

Just when you think you’re on cloud nine, he forces two fingers into you, his lips focusing on your clit. They arch up to reach that sweet spot he didn’t have a hard time finding the last time and you clasp your hand across your mouth, muffling a scream. He’s relentless in his movements and you find yourself grinding into his face, meeting the pace he’s set with overwhelming frenzy.

Faster and faster, his tongue licks up and down, spreading your pussy lips further as his fingers dig deep within your cunt, sending you over the edge with every thrust. Your legs start to shake and thighs clasp hard against his head, trapping him in place, while he continues to sucking till you go limp.

It takes you a moment to recover and Eddie’s feeling mighty proud as he places a tender kiss to your cheekbone before moving to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and it’s enough to drive you crazy all over again.

But Eddie’s got other plans. He’s decided this night is all about you, so despite the desperate hard-on currently concealed by his trousers, he cleans you up before asking where you keep your pyjamas. Your heart soars as he helps you get changed and eventually settled under the covers.

“Stay with me.” It’s a request he’s happy to oblige. Throwing off his t-shirt and jeans, he joins you in bed briskly. The two of you fall asleep shortly after that, MTV still playing in the background. As first dates go, this one was pretty perfect and you were starting to feel like everything with Eddie was going to be this way.

Unfortunately, the serene moment was short lived, which, in hindsight, you should’ve known people of yours and Eddie’s stature weren’t privy to normality.

The following morning, you were both abruptly woken up by a frantic Holly. She doesn’t say anything about Eddie being in your bed, for which you’re grateful, just chucks a newspaper into your lap while you wipe the sleep from your eyes.

Slowly, you sit up then reach for the paper. Glancing between your friend and the guy in your bed, you unfold it. Eddie rests his chin on your shoulder and you both focus on the front page.

“Shit,” he expresses exactly how you’re feeling at that moment ‘cause gracing the front page, with a rather raunchy headline, is a photo, taken yesterday, of the Corroded Coffin frontman towering over you, his hands cupping your face.

#celebrity skin.#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson story #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut

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queen-of-deans-booty · 6 months

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: angst, forgetting an anniversary, feeling like he found someone better than you, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Hey can i request a rockstar Dean where the reader is her girlfriend and he miss them anniversary for some reason and never called the reader to tell her and she go mad and stop talking to him? Happy ending

Summary: Dean is a world-famous musician/singer who is currently on tour. Your five-year anniversary is coming up on a day that he is scheduled to do a show in Japan. What happens when he forgets to call you on this most special day?

Square Filled: celebrity for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

The concert isn’t for another hour but there are already so many fans in the stands and on the floor. One of your favorite things about being in a relationship with a famous musician/singer is to meet their fans. Everyone knows you and Dean Winchester are in a relationship since you’re all he talks about whenever he goes for interviews. They’ve seen plenty of videos of you two together, and both your Instagrams are filled with each other. Your lives are private but you love to share him on all of your social media. You’ve gained a lot of followers since announcing your relationship but you don’t mind.

None of the fans are expecting you to show up even though they’re secretly hoping you do. Not every seat on the floor is filled but a lot of them are. Fans from all over the country grab their seats and mingle with each other, gossiping about the latest news about you and Dean. One girl from a small group sees you and visibly freaks so now everyone is looking her way. Once they see you, they get so excited to meet the elusive Y/N.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you grin and give hugs to those who want them.

“Can I take a picture with you?” someone asks.

You pose with as many fans as you can, making friends and complimenting everyone on their outfits.

“I love your dress! You look so cute in it!” you gush to a fan.

“Oh, my God. Thank you! You look amazing!” she grins. “Would it be too much to ask if you can sign this?”

“Me? You want my signature?”

“Of course! You’re amazing!”

“Okay,” you smile and sign whatever she has for you.

You’re not used to people asking for pictures and signatures since you’re not the famous one, but it’s nice to be recognized. You’re with Dean all the time so all of his fans know who you are. Where he’s the breadwinner, you’re the stay-at-home girlfriend who takes care of the plants and pets. You don’t like working so this is a good setup for you two. You two talked over how this was going to work and both came to the compromise that he would make the money. It’s not like he minded. He loves touring, interviews, and making music with his band. Plus, with no job to hold you down, you get to go with him to different countries and see his shows.

Once you’re done on the floor, you head backstage where your boyfriend is. He’s sitting down on the couch tuning his guitar. The opening act is just about to go on stage so he has some time before he needs to go on stage.

“I found her!”

Dean looks up when he hears his brother from across the room.

“There’s my girl,” Dean smiles and puts his guitar down. “I wonder where you went off to.”

“You have the nicest fans,” you grin and sit next to him.

“They’re all women. Of course, they’re nice.”

Dean wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

“I don’t know, I know some women are monsters.” Dean only smiles at your comment and kisses you slowly. God, it feels so good to kiss him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Winchester.”

“You know me. Give me ten minutes and I’m golden.” He pulls away from you with a sly grin. “Are you staying for the whole show?”

“Of course.”

You two relax on the couch as he tunes his guitar. As soon as the opening act is finished, it’s Dean’s turn to get ready for the stage. He and his band make their way under the stage so they can be lifted up onto it. You walk back onto the floor and over to the VIP section where some other celebrities have come to see his show. It’s also amazing to be friends with actual celebrities. You never thought you’d get the chance t be friends with so many of them.

As soon as Dean and his band are lifted onto the stage, the crowd goes wild. Dean is so happy on stage playing his music for people who make what he does possible. The smile on his face says it all, and you scream along with the fans. The entire concert is about two hours including the opening act which is more than enough time for Dean to get through many of his new songs including a few older hits that are played on the radio. He also plays his version of “Simple Man” as an acoustic set which the fans adore.

When the concert is over, you make your way backstage where Dean is celebrating with his brother, his band, and his manager for yet another successful show. Dean sees you enter the room and his eyes light up. He runs over to you, picks you up, and spins you around.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!”

He sets you down and kisses you quickly.

“Let’s go back to the trailer.”

“You have things to do after every show.”

“Not tonight.” He turns to Sam who only nods. He already knows what he is going to ask. “Thanks, Sammy!”

Dean whisks you back to his trailer which is empty. He has his own that he shares with Sammy while there is another one for the rest of the band. It’s a plan they all came up with since you’re usually with Dean and they really don’t want to hear you two on the road. You two stay in for the rest of the night as Dean shows you just how good it feels to be with someone who is good with his hands.

In the morning, you’re the first one up. The curtains next to his bed don’t cover the entire window so the sunlight on your eyes is what woke you up. You turn to face Dean who is still naked from last night’s activities. His cheeks are naturally rosy, his freckles dance across his face, it seems like his long lashes are touching the top of his cheekbones, and his mouth is slightly parted where soft snores come out. You could stay like this forever but you know you have to get back home.

You’re so much in your own head that you don’t see Dean open his eyes to show you his bright green irises. It’s still early so there is no one asking Dean to do things or needing him. It’s just you and Dean and that’s all you ever want. Dean raises his hand to push back the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes, and you grab his hand to run your finger over his calluses. He’s gotten a lot of them from playing guitar but you don’t mind. You like the roughness of his hands against your soft skin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks in his morning voice.

“How much I love you. How much I wish we could stay like this.”

You lean up and kiss him, not caring that you both have morning breath.

“But?” he chuckles.

“You know me so well,” you smile. “But I can’t stay. I have to get home. Molly and Amber must be missing me so much.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t keep you all to myself. I’ll be thinking of you, though.”

“Same here. Don’t forget, our anniversary is in a month.”

It’s marked for a day that is the same day as one of his shows in Japan but you have that weekend to do whatever you want together.

“I have it marked in my calendar. I won’t forget.”

Your small bubble of paradise has to end sometime, and when it does, you pack up your things to head back home to Austin, Texas. The flight is long but you’re kind of glad to be back home. Your big protective dogs, Amber and Molly, are happy to see you once you’ve picked them up from your best friend’s house. She is eager to hear stories from your travels so you stay at her house for a couple of hours.

“How was his concerts?” she grins and gives you some coffee.

“Really good. I’ve met so many fans and hung out with so many celebrities. It was insane! I even met Ryan Reynolds and his wife. They were so nice.”

“You bitch. Take me next time,” she jokes, and you both laugh.

“I wish I could be with him every day but I have girlfriend-household duties to take care of. For instance, these two,” you grin and pet both your dogs.

“Your anniversary is coming up, right? Any big plans?” Winona asks.

“I’m planning on flying out to Japan to surprise him the weekend after the date. He’s going to be in concert on the actual date. I’m taking him to a Japanese restaurant we’ve both been wanting to try. He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

“That’s so exciting! Think he’s gonna do it this year?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. It’s been five years. I know he wants to do it but he might not since he’s in the middle of a tour.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. He might surprise you,” she winks.

The house is a bit lonely without Dean there but you make do for the three weeks. Amber and Molly are certainly glad to be back in their home with you, and you keep the house looking clean and better than ever. You’ll bring the dogs back to Winona when you leave for Japan next week even though you want to bring them with you.

You wake up on the day of your anniversary with a smile on your face. Today marks five years you’ve been with Dean and you’re so excited to spend another year with him. He is two hours ahead of you so when you wake up at eight, you’re shocked you don’t see a message from him. Every time you have a birthday, he’s always messaging you at midnight so he can be the first one to celebrate with you. He’s done the same thing for anniversaries but you don’t have a message this time. He probably spent last night partying with his bandmates so you’re not too concerned about it.

You get up, make breakfast, enjoy it in the sunroom, and do the dishes afterward. It’s a good day to spend outside in the garden or to relax by the pool so you change into your swimsuit and throw a light sundress over it. The day is spent in the sun and tending to the garden with beautiful vegetables growing. You might pick what you can make a hearty dinner later.

However, as the day goes on without a message or call from Dean, you grow worried. He didn’t forget, did he? You debate on calling him or not to see if he’s okay. No, if he forgot then that’s on him. The day turns to night, and you’re scrolling through TikTok for lives from his concert. He seems so happy on stage without a care in the world. Yeah, he forgot about you. Even well after the concert, he still doesn’t text or call you.

You go to bed with tears stains on your cheeks and a heavy heart.

You wake up the next morning and remember why you feel so shitty. Dean never called or texted. He forgot about you. You’re not upset that he forgot to tell you “Happy Anniversary”. It’s the fact that he could forget you. He’s out in different countries with his bandmates and brother, meeting girls in bars and fans on the floor while you’re back at home taking care of the dogs. You’re not with him while he’s out living this fabulous life. You’re pissed that there is a possibility he found someone better than you. You’re pissed at the possibility that he doesn’t love you anymore.

Your last relationship ended horribly and stuck with you even years into your relationship with Dean. He knows your fear of abandonment and he still didn’t call you.

You decide to head over to Winona’s house and hang with her instead of letting the silence sink into your skin. She is more than happy to have you over, and there is already a pot of coffee going when you arrive. She has a bottle of Baileys on the counter that she’ll add to make the coffees more spicy.

You sit at her kitchen island and put your phone on the tabletop. Just as you let go, Dean’s name pops on the screen. You quickly deny the call because you don’t want to hear his voice right now. Winona sees you deny the call and decides to add a bit of extra Bailey’s to your cup.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“He forgot our anniversary. He didn’t call or text me. I don’t even want to go to Japan anymore.”

“Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“I don’t care that he forgot. I’ve forgotten some pretty important dates. I’m scared he’s gonna leave me for someone else. He’s out there partying with girls from all over the world.”

“Y/N, that man loves you. So he forgot. Big deal.”

She won’t get it. She doesn’t know the details of your three-year relationship with your ex-boyfriend.

Dean calls you again and this time, you turn your phone off without answering him. Winona is a good friend and she helps you through a lot, but this is something you have to deal with on your own. She won’t understand how you’re feeling because she’s never had her heart broken. She never stays with someone long enough to get her heart broken, and she’s the one who breaks it off. She has flings, which is completely fine, but it doesn’t warrant advice about something she doesn’t know.

You keep your phone off for the rest of the day until you’re about to go to bed. You turn it on to see there are fifty missed calls, over a hundred missed texts, and twenty voicemails. All from Dean. You don’t check the messages or the voicemails but instead, call Sam. He picks up on the first ring and explodes in a panic.

“What the fuck, Y/N! Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

“Is that Y/N? Let me talk to her,” you hear Dean in the background.

“Don’t put him on. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Listen, Dean is freaking the fuck out. He’s threatening not to do the show until you call him back.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. Look, something came up and I won’t be able to make it to Japan.”

“What the hell happened between you two? He has no clue what’s going on.”

That breaks your heart a bit. If he doesn't know then you’re not going to be the one to tell him.

“Nothing. Tell Dean he’s being a fucking idiot and to do the damm show.”

You hang up on Sam and turn your phone off again. You won’t want to hear from either of them, not for a couple of days at least. Dean can party with his friends and fuck all the women he wants to over there. The next couple of days are like this. You only have your phone on when you wake up and go to sleep because you know Dean will try non-stop to call you. You’d rather get cut off from the rest of the world than take Dean’s calls.

Those few days are spent with Winona since being in that big house by yourself isn’t ideal. Everything reminds you of Dean and the memories of being happy. She allowed you to sleep in her guestroom even though you two stayed in her bedroom like you were kids again having a sleepover.

Eventually, you had to get home so you begrudgingly walk up the front porch steps. You unlock the door and step inside. There on the floor are dozens of rose petals all leading to the back bedroom you share with Dean. On both sides of the petals is a line of fake candles to show the path you need to take.

You walk carefully to the bedroom to see a dozen more fake candles and much more rose petals. Standing in the middle of the room wearing his best suit is Dean. He turns to face you with a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you gasp and step inside the bedroom. “You’re supposed to be in Japan. You’re supposed to be in concert right now.”

“I am so sorry for forgetting our anniversary.” You look at the ground as the feelings you have come rushing to the surface. “I love you so much. There is no excuse I can give you as to why I didn’t call you that night.”

Before you can say anything, Dean kneels to the ground on one knee. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small velvet box big enough to fit a ring. He opens his mouth to say something but you hold your hands out to stop him.

“Wait, Dean, are you proposing because you’re sorry or because you want to?” He doesn’t say anything to that which tells you it’s the former. You chuckle and kneel down in front of him so you’re the same height. “Baby, the reason why I was so upset wasn’t because you forgot. We all forget. I was scared you found someone else while you were off being a famous rockstar. I was here and you were there and I thought you forgot because you didn’t love me anymore. I was pissed at you for that.”

Dean sets the rose and ring down to grab your hands.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t be me without you. No one can ever replace you.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“I wouldn’t cancel a show for just anyone,” Dean laughs.

“You canceled a show for me? What about your fans?”

“My fans wouldn’t be my fans without you by my side. You’re the one who pushed me into playing. I owe everything to you.” You lean in and kiss him on his full lips, enjoying that you can do this after so long of being apart. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “So, that’s a no on the proposal?”

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you whisper and kiss him again.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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writersdare · 1 year

Text

Password Is Your Birthday | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Y/N never doubted Calum's loyalty, however, once controversial photos were leaked, their relationship was put to the test.

Warning: angsty, mention of alcohol

Word Count: 2 582

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: Thank you for the patience! Lately I've experienced a somewhat burnout, and couldn't write anything normally. That's really frustrating when it happens, so I couldn't post the work earlier – it's really important to me to be sure in a story, to be fully satisfied with the result. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one! Remember, your activity helps so-so much! ♡

There was nothing better than holding his hand in hers. To reflect a smile on his face. To feel the heartbeat of each other every time they were close.

Sometimes Y/N thought she only imagined him. She created him like a puzzle she used to make in the evenings when was very little. Calum was someone the girl could call perfect. Of course, everyone had their flaws, however, when you loved someone the flaws seemed quite insignificant.

She loved him. He was her second breath, her reason the girl believed in happy endings. It was even funny, amusing and little absurd how two people, who were scared of commitment before, were suddenly searching for love in each other.

Calum adored her. He enjoyed her bright laugh in late afternoons, when they were watching some silly comedy. Praised Y/N's little sad face each time he’d forget to buy something from their shopping list or finish a pack of crisps that supposed to be for both of them. He was guilty, he knew it.

But Y/N was guilty, too. For entering his life and turning everything upside down. For not warning that her smile would change everything in him. The musician felt alive next to her, and she knew it.

"Don’t look at me like this," Y/N chuckled, resting hands on his shoulders. Calum led her in a dance, and even though the room was full of strangers, it felt as if there were just two of them.

"Why so?" Cal giggled back, taking his time to observe the girl’s beautiful eyes. They were shining, and he wanted to believe he was the reason of it.

"You make me shy," she smiled wider, and Calum only laughed at such confession. He doubted it was the truth, because his Y/N could be naughty, but not shy. Not at such moment at least.

"I make you shy? And that’s it?" he asked, smiling.

Y/N made an innocent face only and shrugged, so Calum couldn’t help himself but leave a kiss on the lips.

"I’m going to get us another drink," he whispered and pulled away gently, when the music ended.

Y/N nodded, following Calum with a gaze. It felt like the smile didn’t leave her face for the whole evening. Perhaps, she needed to be careful with that thought, as the girl was about to receive a message that could change everything she believed in.

Cal just disappeared from the sight, when the girl’s phone vibrated. Y/N lazily took it out of a purse and checked the notification. It was a blank email with a photo attached, nothing else. The girl rolled the eyes and already wanted to push a button "spam", seeing unknown address, as noticed on the picture preview outlines of her boyfriend. Even when the photo downloaded, and the girl could see Cal with someone else, she still thought it was fake, a silly prank. Calum was loyal, and he wouldn’t cheat on her. They were both very open about their relationship, and Y/N never had any doubts about him. The girl didn’t have a good look at the photo, when the phone vibrated again. She sighed annoyingly and opened another email, where few more photos were included, as well as a link to Google Drive. Curiosity, or maybe already doubts, took over. Y/N looked around and hurried to a more quiet place, away from the guests. She supposed to celebrate Michael’s birthday, like everyone else, but her festive mood disappeared just at the snap of fingers.

The girl seat on a couch and open the link. Surely, she knew it wasn’t safe to open a link from unknown sender, however, it was Google Drive, so the girl doubted it was just spam already. Y/N was too intrigued – and not in a good way, so she took the risk.

The girl saw few dated folders, the most recent one was created last week. Just like she suspected, there were photos inside – Calum, hanging out with some ginger girl. The stranger was clearly older than Y/N, but looked good, she though. Y/N couldn’t find anything provocative, however, by the look of it, those two clearly had a good time together, laughing and even cuddling each other.

"Here you are! Are you hiding from someone? I barely found you."

Y/N looked up and saw Calum standing in front of her, holding two cocktails in both hands. The girl didn’t even have powers to give Cal at least a short smile. She stood up and took the glass, placing her phone in his palm. Confused, Cal glanced at the screen.

"What is it?" Y/N, drinking the cocktail through a straw, could see how the boyfriend’s face changed, slowly. "This is… This is not what you think," she almost chocked at such a banal phrase. "Where did you get this? Did you follow me?"

The irritation and panic was written on his face, and Y/N started to feel sick of Cal all of a sudden. The girl took her phone back roughly, fighting with a desire to splash the drink on his face.

"Y/N…"

"Unknown admire sent it to me," she finally replied, looking at his eyes and still not being able to believe that a person who she trusted the most failed her like that, lied to her. "Why, Calum? You could just tell me if you didn’t feel the same anymore, why to play this game?" the girl couldn’t tell if she was hurt or simply disappointed. Y/N thought they were not just a boyfriend and girlfriend. It always felt like there was something more than that, they were both friends and lovers. A little family in their own world.

"It’s not a game. Look, I didn’t cheat on you."

"Yet?"

Cal sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling.

"Do we really gotta do this now? Right here, with all your friends around?" he asked, hoping to make her come to the senses, however, those questions made Y/N nothing, but angry.

"How dare you to ask me this, like it’s not important?"

"Because it’s not!" Calum snapped, leaving his glass on a tray of a passing by waiter, Y/N did the same. "These photos… It’s not… What it is."

"Then what is it? Sneaking out at nights, hugging her? Do I look like an idiot?"

"Look I can’t tell you, but––"

"Unbelievable," Y/N laughed shorty, but she wasn’t really having fun at that moment. The girl headed to the exit of the room, feeling like she couldn’t stay there any longer.

"Please, don’t go," he almost whispered, tiredly, and hurried up to follow her. "Y/N! You can’t just leave, all our friends are here, let’s not do it now."

"I’m sorry, but this is more important to me now. You can stay, as I already understood that seeing someone else isn’t a big deal to you," the girl smirked, calling a taxi.

"I’m not seeing anyone," Calum repeated, even though he knew how it all sounded, when Y/N literally had photos, proving a completely different thing.

"You keep telling me this, but you don’t explain what it is then," the girl said, grinning sadly. "Before lying you needed to come up with a truthful story, Calum," she smirked and got into a car.

The musician followed her, as he couldn’t just leave the girl like that. Cal had no idea how to explain himself; he was very mad at the person, who leaked those photos. Calum obviously didn’t know that someone was taking pictures of him, otherwise he’d be more careful. However, at that particular moment the guy didn’t care as much about the photos going public, – after all, it was only a matter of time when they’d be all over the Internet – as about his relationship with Y/N. Calum knew he messed up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t fix it.

The way home was accompanied by silence. Y/N had a lot to process. She couldn’t forgive him cheating, and even though the answer was obvious, everything wasn’t as simple as the girl hoped. Despite a clear disappointment in their relationship and even some hate towards Cal, she still loved him. Y/N couldn’t imagine her life without him. The girl thought everything was alright between them. Was is it all really a lie? Was it her fault? Why was Cal seeking a company of someone else?..

By the end of the ride she was so tired of her own thoughts that all what Y/N wanted was to go to bed and wake up happy again. The girl knew it was doubtfully possible to hide from the bitter reality, but she was not ready for another drama that evening.

However, when Y/N went to their bedroom, Calum was not planning to leave it like that.

"Just an hour ago you wanted to talk, so let’s talk," he chuckled, watching Y/N taking off her heels and going to bed. "We aren’t going to bed until we talk about it," Cal said though his teeth, feeling a wave of anger spreading all over his body.

"I don’t have powers to talk about it anymore," the girl replied calmly, covering herself with a blanket. "You should be happy, you’ll have more time to come up with an excuse," she smiled sadly.

"Y/N, I didn’t cheat on you. And I’m not seeing anyone but you," Cal said coldly, taking a seat on the edge of their bed, so he could look in the girl’s eyes. "I swear to you. I love you."

"Then who is it?" Y/N echoed. She wanted to believe Calum, she desperately wanted to believe him, but he wasn’t making it particularly easy. "Are you saying those photos were fake? A photoshop? At the days when you were coming home late because you had night photoshoots with a band? You know, I trusted you, I didn’t even have any doubts, didn’t have a thought to call guys and ask if it was true. I trusted you," Y/N repeated. The tears were stuck somewhere, and the eyes were still dry. She felt simply empty.

"The photos are real," Calum admitted, as there was no point to lie anymore. "But those meeting weren’t dates."

"Give me your phone," Y/N whispered, realising the guy didn’t confirm that he had night shooting sessions with the band. Because he didn’t have them, apparently.

"I can’t…" he whispered back, not looking at her anymore.

"Calum," the girl swallowed, staring at Cal, who seemed like a lost kitten. "Give me your phone," her voice trembled, but she insisted.

The guy looked up and slowly took the phone out from a pocket of his jacket. He hesitated, but Y/N snatched it from his palm immediately.

"Why can’t you just believe me?" the musician chuckled sadly, watching her entering the password – it was her birthday. The password on her phone was his birthday, they did it as a joke, but both kept it in the end.

"Would you believe me?" Y/N asked, opening chats and scrolling his messages, trying to find a familiar face. Cal had a weird obsession with having profile pictures for all his contacts. Funny, but the girl even hoped that the contact she was looking for wouldn’t be there or would remain without a picture. However, Y/N didn’t even need to scroll that far to see an image of that ginger girl.

Opening chat, Y/N saw some photos the stranger was sending Calum. They were sketches of a ring. There were different kinds, Cal’s replies were mostly short as "I like the first variant better" and "can we try it with a blue stone?". They discussed time of their meetings, and Cal would apologise they’d have to meet that late again, explaining it with his crazy working schedule and "too smart girlfriend".

"What is it?" Y/N whispered and looked up at Calum. The guy didn’t move from his place and was watching her every move, while she was reading the messages and checking the photos.

"How do you think?" Cal asked, and it was his time to be disappointed. He wanted it to be a surprise. "That girl is a jewellery designer," he took his phone back roughly, switching off the screen. "I couldn’t find anything in stores, so I contacted someone I knew . We met just few times, and only because I needed to see work in progress with my own eyes. It’s not that easy just by a picture or a sketch, you know," the guy sighed and stood up.

"Calum," Y/N sobbed, feeling like an idiot. She was blaming herself at that moment, however, the reaction the girl had before was rather understandable, too; besides, Cal couldn’t normally explain himself. But how could he? Again, he wanted it to be a surprise.

"I’ll sleep in a couch today, I guess," the musician chuckled sadly, putting the phone back to his pocket. Calum was staring at Y/N’s face, knowing that it wasn’t just her fault, but both of them. And that idiot, who leaked the photos at first place.

"Look, I’m sorry, I thought––"

"I know," Cal interrupted. "But next time trust me what I say."

Y/N jumped off the bed and brushed tears from the face, once Calum left the room.

"Trust you?" she outraged, getting mad that the guy behaved that way. Sure, Y/N messed up, too, but she had her reasons. "You’d react completely the same way if you were on my place, Calum!" the girl caught his hand, so Cal turned around. "It’s not fair. I apologised, I know you wanted to make a surprise, and it’s… it’s such a wonderful surprise, but you can’t tell it’s my fault only! I didn’t believe at first, but what could I do?"

"I know," Cal sighed, cooling off rather quickly, and pressed the girl against his body, cuddling Y/N softly. "I’m sorry," he closed the eyes for a moment. "I just got so upset that my surprise was ruined. It was such a long journey, and you found out like that. Accusing me as well," the guy left a short kiss on her soft cheek. "I love you. Y/N. I’d never cheat on you. You do realise I want you to be my wife?" Calum chuckled, and the smile was sincere.

"Now I do," the girl smiled a bit, still feeling a bit sad that she reacted like that and ruined the surprise. "I love you, too, Calum," the girl said and stood on her toes to kiss the musician on his lips.

"Does it mean you’ll marry me?" he asked through the kiss.

"It does," she cuddled Cal’s neck, once he took her on his arms.

"Y/N Hood, sounds good, huh?" The guys touched her nose with his and then laughed all of a sudden.

"Hey, what are you laughing at?"

"I’m just thinking that this could happen only to us, really," Cal sighed, smiling, and kissed Y/N again. "You know, I gotta admit, you’re extremely hot, when you’re angry. Even though you behaved like a brat."

"Uh, only I did?" the girl squinted, so the musician hurried up to apologise with a short kiss on her neck.

Apparently, that evening they both would never forget for several reasons.

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, found them here @ghost-of-you –

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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folklorebau · 1 year

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the one — eddie roundtree

pairing: eddie roundtree x fem!musician!reader

description: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, eddie tries to win your heart back. through all the hurt, comes a lot of light.

warnings: written in interview style like the book! reader is a musician but she isn’t in the band, use of Y/N (</3). REQ’s are open!

🍸 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🎙️ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🪩 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🎧

Eddie: I asked myself a lot of questions back then, but I could never actually answer any of them. It was like everything good had blown up in my face and it was all my fault. I didn’t really know what to do.

Karen: Chase two girls, lose the one. I always knew Eddie loved Y/N, but he also loved Camila. I told Eddie he had to go away and have a think about everything.

Warren: Whatever he felt for Camila, it was different with Y/N. Camila was his first love, sure, but Y/N is the love of his life.

Eddie took himself away from the band for a few days, he arranged it with the necessary people and put in place a ‘getaway plan’ as he recalls it. He stayed away for an extra week, hiding away in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When he came back he had a new guitar, a green Fender Stratocaster, and a few unfinished love songs.

Warren: Why he took himself up to Oregon of all places I will never know. He would of been welcome to hand on my boat but the man had shit to sort through I suppose.

Karen: Whatever he did those few days he was gone worked wonders.

Eddie: The second I got back I picked Karen up and swung her around. I couldn’t thank her enough.

Y/N: I wouldn’t be a second choice, I left because that’s what it felt like with him, that I was always going to be second choice.

Eddie: I always thought I knew best but I really didn’t. I knew Billy wouldn’t like the songs I had written, because it was always what him and Daisy had written that mattered. I think Karen was nervous when I told her I’d been writing.

Karen: I thought he had gone mad. [Laughs]

Billy: I would have heard him out at least, but… no I probably would have hated whatever he had come up with. I was a control freak like that. We [Him and Daisy] both were.

Eddie: I didn’t care what Billy thought of them. I hadn’t written them for Billy, I wrote them for me, but also for Y/N.

Y/N: [Laughs] They were… well they were okay! He poured his whole heart into them, so they were special but Eddie Roundtree is not a songwriter!

Eddie: She said that? [Laughs] Well… she’s right! I suppose I just wanted to tell her how I really felt. Once I had shown her what I’d come up with she sat down next to me and just started scribbling all over it.

Y/N: I wanted to finish one of the songs.

Eddie: She had picked one out, ‘The 1’. It was about what you wish you had, what you could of had if you hadn’t messed everything up.

Y/N: I kind of wanted to make him sweat a bit.

Eddie: I was so nervous, I just kept thinking say something, say anything!!

Y/N: We stayed up late laughing, drinking, writing. We talked about Eddie’s time in Oregon. I told him what I had gotten up to.

Eddie: Then she told me she had missed me.

Y/N: I was so worried to let him back in.

Eddie: I was so glad she let me in. So glad.

Eddie Roundtree sold the song to an up and coming band. Y/N and Eddie were credited as the songwriters for the record. Upon release it climbed the charts to number 32. The pair celebrated with the band they had sold the record to by buying them lunch one afternoon in California.

Eddie: She made me work for it.

Y/N: Like I said, I wanted to see him sweat.

Eddie: I didn’t mind though. Life was very fast, very unpredictable back then. I got to slow down with her, just making sure she was okay, checking in, having meals together, falling asleep next to each other, it was all… it felt like a sure thing. I felt very lucky, and the most alive I think. Yeah.

Y/N: He had asked me a couple times, can we make this official? I told him to wait it out. I think I wanted to know that he would stick it out, that he would wait for me for once. A lot of our relationship at the start felt like me waiting around for him. It wasn’t a payback thing necessarily, more just, I don’t know. I was protecting my heart.

Eddie: I felt very… unsure. I didn’t know if I was worth it to her. I think she saw that in me, that I didn’t really value myself. She turned that around.

Y/N: One night before a show, I turned up and he was so shocked to see me. I remember his face just lighting up, I knew then. I knew with everything in me, I wanted him and he wanted me.

Eddie: I had pined and grovelled for months and right before I am about to step on stage to a sold out show, she kisses me. I couldn’t believe it. I actually couldn’t believe her! I swear she just liked to see me sweat.

Y/N: I didn’t mean to! At the time I had gone to just see the band. Well, I was going to see Eddie too but I didn’t intend on kissing him! I’m glad I did though.

#eddie roundtree fanfic #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree x fem!reader #eddie roundtree x female reader #eddie roundtree djats #djats #djats fanfic #djats eddie #eddie roundtree x you #eddie roundtree x y/n

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

Text

Finesse (Request)

Words: 1,457

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut

“Alright Jack, before we let you go, we have a few fan questions for you to answer.” The radio DJ pulled out his phone, scrolling to his notes. “Hit me.” “Okay, first question. Which city has the best pizza? Are you a Chicago deep dish fan, or a thin crust New York loyalist?” Jack pretended to contemplate the question before answering. “Thin crust all the way.” He looked at his watch, he hated these interviews more than any other press. “That’s surprising. Question two, early riser or night owl?” Outwardly Jack plastered a smile on his face, but internally he was screaming. These questions were terrible and a total waste of his time. “I’ve gotta say night owl, I hate waking up early.”

“Last question. Who is your celebrity crush?” This question peaked Jack’s interest. He had been very vocal about his current celebrity crush, partially because he thought it was funny to rile up the press, and partially because he was hoping you would hear one of his interviews. “Y/N Y/L/N” he stated without hesitation. The interviewer was taken back by Jack’s sudden response. “Wow, you wasted no time answering that. I’ve heard you mention her name in other interviews, is there something happening there?” Jack laughed before answering. “I mean I don ‘t like to start rumors, but if she wanted to I would not hesitate.” The room erupted in laughter, but Jack was dead serious. “Anything you want to shout out to her over the air?” Jack stroked his beard; if he wanted to have a real chance with you he had to choose his words carefully.

“I mean, I hope you’re well and if you ever want to kick it, you know how to find me.”

______________________________________________________________

“I mean its bold. I like confident guys.” You shrugged when the interviewer from Vanity Fair asked you for your response to Jack’s radio proposition. You’d been in the acting industry for most of your life, and this wasn’t the first time you had been linked to another actor, athlete, or musician, but Jack seemed kind; a lot of guys were crass and lewd with their comments about your body and how attractive they found you. “He’s a few years younger than me, and I don’t usually go for younger guys”, you threw that in to keep the press off your trail; you didn’t care about the age of the guys you dated. “We run in different circles, but I wouldn’t be opposed to getting to know him.”

Not even three weeks after your mutual interviews, Jack was set to attend the GQ Man of the Year Awards in London, where he was to be crowned one of the nights honorees. London was your second home when you weren’t working in the US, so you usually made the rounds at any major parties in the city. Jack spotted you immediately when you walked into the venue. He suddenly felt sick; he was confident until he wasn’t. Urban walked up behind him, double fisting two beers from the bar. He took a sip, gesturing with the bottle. “Look who it is.” He had been teasing Jack ever since that interview. He knew his best friend, and Jack was cocky as all get up, but you made him weak in the knees. “Shut up dude.” Urban laughed at seeing Jack so uncomfortable. “Why don’t you just go talk to her. In fact, let’s make a bet. You don’t get her number tonight, you pay for everyone’s dinner after our next game at Mockingbird.” Jack turned to Urban, “I pay for everyone’s dinner anyway!” “Then you have nothing to lose. Go!” Urban gave his friend a shove in your direction, Jack trying to regain his footing before he faceplanted right in front of his crush.

You were making conversation with the creative director of GQ, Ryan, someone you had gotten to know over the years. He was the biggest gossip and had heard about your situation with Jack. “You usually go for guys who aren’t in the industry, so this is surprising. Have you hooked up already?” You let out a sigh, the rumor mill ran wild with anything. “No, I don’t even know the guy.” You took a sip of your soda water. You had stopped drinking last year when you started getting serious about your health and fitness. “You know he’s here tonight, right?” “No way!” you retorted sarcastically, “crazy that he came to an event that is honoring him.”

Just as you were finishing your drink and waving the bartender over, your new “boyfriend” walked up to you. You turned to him, speaking before he could even introduce himself. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been, boyfriend?” Jack’s face was dumbfounded. He didn’t expect this to move so fast, and he really wasn’t sure what was going on. You looked around to make sure eyes were all on you and Jack before you pulled him in by his bow tie and planted a hard kiss on his lips. It was messy and not at all romantic, but it would have to do. When you pulled away, Jack’s eyes were still closed, lost in the feeling. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bathroom, making sure the stalls were empty before locking the door.

You walked up to the mirror and adjusted your dress and hair before applying another coat of lipstick. Jack was frozen, posted up against the door, unable to move or speak. “You alright there?” you caught a look at Jack’s face through the mirror making you laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, clearing his throat before he responded. “Yeah. What the fuck was that out there?” “I’m sorry about that. I was tired of people talking about us, just needed to give them something to make them shut up.” You sauntered over to him, and Jack gulped as he took in your curvy figure, your silk dress flowing like water as you moved. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Jack. I’m Y/N.” You held out your hand, but Jack’s limbs were still immobile. You backed up to give him some room, giving him a docile smile. “You know you started this right?”

______________________________________________________________

“I don’t know how to fucking shut up sometimes.” You and Jack had moved from the bathroom back to your table to continue the conversation. He was more relaxed now that he knew you were harmless, and beside the passing glances, people had settled down about the rumors. “Had I known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have said anything.” Jack sounded genuine but you knew he was lying. “Bullshit.” Your response made Jack choke on his water. “Sorry?” “I know you’re newer to the industry, but you’re not innocent. You’ve got me exactly where you want me, Mr. Harlow.” A smile crept onto Jack’s face; he threw his head back in a laugh. “If I’m being honest, I’m glad we finally got a chance to meet. I’ve always had a thing for you.” You were being sincere. Jack had your attention with his first single, “What’s Poppin”, and you had been hooked ever since. “You’re lying. I’ve seen the guys you date, they aren’t me.” You gave him a wink. “Maybe that’s the point.”

“So can I take you out sometime?” Jack leaned into you, and you let him invade your personal space, intrigued by his sudden confidence. “I would like that.” You reached for his hand, Jack taking a moment to appreciate how soft your hands were. He looked over at Urban who was a couple tables over looking like a complete stalker with his eye contact. He gave Jack a confirming thumbs up, and Jack flashed him the middle finger. “What’s that about?” Jack turned back to you, apologetic. “Ignore him, he’s a dick. He bet me I couldn’t get your number tonight.” “Really? You wanna fuck with him?”

You and Jack walked hand in hand over to Urban, giving him a big smile. You sat down next to Urban, turning to him in your chair. “Urban right?” Urban may have been making fun of Jack earlier that night, but seeing you, he was just as starstruck. “Uh, yeah.” “Listen, Jack asked me for my number, and I’m all for it, but I told him I was only interested in threesomes. Are you interested?” You would have thought Urban had seen a ghost with how pale his face turned at your offer. Urban leaned in close, his voice a whisper, “Are you serious?” You tried your hardest to contain your laugh, but looking a Jack broke you. You both broke out in laughter, Urban looking around confused.

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow concepts #jackman harlow #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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herrlindemann · 1 year

Photo

Access All Area - November 1997, Concert Review

Thanks to ramjohn for the scans!

As you can see with us, there is a solution for everything, even if the Rammstein management really doesn't have all the cups in the closet. With an important air, our photo team was sent from one end of the hall to the other, and after the opening act KMFDM was over, there was finally the pass... « What, you are presenters? - I do not care? » With a contract that is not legally tenable anyway, you should coordinate your publications with this 'management', make copies of the pictures available and assign all rights to Rammstein GbR. The Berliners have a total damage, one can only say. In their home town, this has already resulted in nobody taking pictures of Rammstein anymore; none of those who once made the band great. We thought long and hard about how to proceed. In the end we decided against 'our' photos and used various agencies and some fans who secretly snapped the entire show. Thank you very much!

Marius Müller-Westernhagen needed ten full years for this behavior; Rammstein only a short one: You could celebrate extensively. Gone was the anger that jumped from the band into the audience when they caused a sensation as the support act for the Ramones on their farewell tour. Singer Till Lindemann tries his hand at pantomime, gesticulating wildly, but fails from the start of the show: First he crawls ridiculously through a second bass drum (?) set up especially for him, then he looks like a mixture of a tired Terminator copy and the Michelin man. Then later, during 'Bestrafe mich', he wears a kind of jockey pants with suspenders and beats his washboard back with a little whip. His eldest, 12-year-old daughter allegedly judged the Rammstein show with the words "Dad, you're crazy" - she's right!

The stage is immersed in white light throughout the show and, with the exception of Lindemann, the musicians hardly move from the spot, but thrash their instruments with a stony expression (uiiii, how cruel). Critics claimed in advance that the band would not manage to implement their brutal sound live on CD - correct, and that becomes clear at the latest with the fastest song of the evening, 'Bück dich': When the sounds blur, the guitars catch up again If the guitar sounds like electro-metal-industrial stuff, the fascination with the Rammstein phenomenon is over.

And they love to play with fire, the children. The self-proclaimed pyromaniacs are considered Kiss fans from the very beginning, but they are not light years away from the casual, decadent performance of a 20-year-old show by their role models.

Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley & Co. would only have a tired smile. Anyway, among the props were: foot fountains, air bursts, green fire, bow-string rockets, pyroballs, multiple CO2 and of course flamethrowers.

Maybe the expectations were a little too high or the band's stage fright?! Singer Till refrained from any conversation with the audience, which had given Rammstein a sold-out tour, except for a final "Thank you" - three words less than Arnie Schwarzenegger as Terminator! By German standards, it was quite a nice spring festival fireworks display and since everyone was curious about the band, you could also meet plenty of celebrities everywhere. It will be interesting to see what the band is planning next... at least not " Cut off" - that's what the doctors, who also come from Berlin, propagated almost 15 years ago. Although it would certainly not be a pity for Till's rubber dildo...

#Rammstein #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake #Richard Kruspe #Christoph Schneider #Oliver Riedel #1997 #*translation #review #*#rare bad review

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theremina · 9 months

Text

Hi. Um. So...

I've been quietly working on a really, really big, beautiful, maddening, PUNK AS FUCK collaborative DIY art project for about a year now with a whole bunch of people I've known for a loooonnng time and love a whoooole bunch.

I don't just believe in them as musicians. I believe in them as vibrant, brilliant, fiercely kindhearted human beings who make completely unclassifiable music and theatrics and wonderful community happen, and who deserve to be lifted up and celebrated and nurtured.

We FINALLY launched their Kickstarter today, after many months of collective work. Much to my delight, said Kickstarter has already made OVER FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS in less than five hours.

Hopefully we will double that amount by the end of the campaign (and THEN some) and my favorite live band of all time, Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, can feed themselves and keep roofs over their heads, their family's heads, their crew's heads, while the band woodsheds and the full team preps to finish and release a studio album and a short film and then (WE HOPE! 100K OR BUST!) pile back into their magical doomsday bus and tour the continental US once again for the first time in 13 years.

I wouldn't be doing this for any other band. Not even one of my own projects. That is how much I love Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, and how deeply I respect what they make and who they ARE.

Go check out the campaign! Pitch in if you're inspired! Share the link far and wide if you care about me EVEN A LITTLE BIT PLZ AND THANK YOU because this job'll earn me a substantial paycheck as well, but ONLY if we're fully funded.

AMBUGATON.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sleepytimegm/sgm2024

#SGM2024 #sleepytime gorilla museum #kickstarter #crowdfunder #music #avant garde #experimental #black metal

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shirefantasies · 1 month

Note

I was a little scared to ask about matchups at first, but I saw the other one you did and I really liked it! My name is Darcy, I’m 5’4, and European. I have shoulder length brown hair with bangs, blue eyes, rigid features, and lots of freckles. I love music, both listening to and playing guitar. I write a lot of poetry in my free time, as well as painting and smoking. I love long walks in the woods and nature in general. Big thunderstorms and sunrise/susnsets are my favorite! Thanks so much for taking the time to read my request!! I love your work!

Well I’m honored you like my style 😌 of course I’ll take the time for you lovely 💕 your match is…

Eomer!

You’re nothing of what Eomer is used to in a woman. The women of Rohan are mild-mannered, severe even, and they know their place, for better or for worse. You, Darcy, are a free spirit. Your stoic features bursting into a wide smile as you strum your guitar and lightness coloring your motions when you reach for a pipe after the show.

Traveling performers were certainly a first in a land falling to peasantry and complacency. Riders fought tooth and nail to preserve the Horse-Lords’ honor and took little time to celebrate…until a group of musicians rolled in and treated them like any other venue. Using a recent victory as an excuse, the men accepted your company, though Eomer rolls his eyes a bit. He can’t help asking if you want anything more out of life than this. You shoot back that you see the world, play your songs, care for very little. In turn, he fires back that it would be of greater right if you did have something to care for. “What, and tie myself down? It would take quite the man to do that. You think you’re the one?” “That is not what I-” “You think I’m some flighty, defenseless whelp, do you?” Taking one more puff of your pipe, you grin. “I wager I could best you in a swordfight.” A chorus of ooooohs rings out from the men, and with another roll of his eyes the blonde marshal shrugs. “Can I, in good conscience, fight you?” “Afraid to lose?” He should have been, for he did. Proving you can defend yourself (and frequently did, having run into quite the number of orc packs in your travels), you grab a tankard and hoist it up, toasting your combatant and giving him a wink.

The next morning, Eomer is surprised to find you strolling peacefully through their pastures, arms extended to feel the rain. “What?” You ask. “Is this not peaceful? I’m holding out that we might have some good thunder and lightning later. And if not, how much more beautifully the flowers will grow.” His eyebrows raise at this. "I cannot say I took you for a nature lover." "Music lovers are often nature lovers, too," you tease him, shaking out your hair, "and isn't there just something magical about the rain?" "Always seemed inconvenient to me." Marching Eomer's way, you rest one hand on your hip, the other accusingly poking a finger to his chest. "You are just determined to be obstinate, are you not, Master Marshal of the Mark?" "It would seem we both are," he replies with a sardonic smile, "what do we do then?" Eomer really needs to learn to expect the unexpected with you, for he doesn't truly expect you to take the bait until your lips are already crashing onto his.

Suddenly he is at your heels, fuming a bit at your smirk as you silently put out your pipe and tune your guitar. "I wrote a poem that may stop your stewing," you tell him. He had followed you all the way backstage again after your saucy little walk of triumph, certainly not to be left standing in some cloudy field, bested. "Very well." Strumming your instrument, you take up a song about one seeing the world, avoiding vexatious feelings...until a recent experience led the subject to realize they'd been putting far too many walls up. In the short time you've known him, you have yet to see the marshal's eyes change so, softening with great care, staring with such thought and longing. "What does that mean?" He asks when you finish. Sighing, you lower your guitar. "I am not entirely certain," a smile creeps onto your lips, "other than that I might need some more time in Rohan. Know anyone who might be entertaining enough to convince me to stay?" "Ah," Eomer chuckles, "I can think of one man."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #lord of the rings matchups #eomer #eomer x reader #eomer x female reader #ask #anon #requested #matchup monday

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foli-vora · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Big congrats on 3k followers - deserved! ♥️ For the celebration, could I please request something fluffy with Marcus Pike, using the prompt: ““you wrote me a song?” For this I’m imagining 3 possible scenarios - either Marcus is a musician (he played bass), reader is the musician, or they’re both musicians in a band together 🥲 Thank you so much!! And congrats again 💗

hello sweet nonnie! thank you so much for your request. this came out much softer than i planned lmao, i hope you enjoy!

for him

marcus pike x gn!reader

word count: 1.9k warnings: the fluffiest of fluffs

Like your day hadn’t been bad enough, the straps of your weekend bag snap only a few metres away from where Marcus stands waiting for you at the entrance to his apartment building, spewing your belongings along the pavement and deepening the scowl already carved into your face.

Your journal doesn’t survive the fall as it bounces free from the bag and hits the ground, the binding giving in and letting loose stray bits of paper everywhere.

They flutter lightly in the air before resting messily around your belongings and you quickly step on a page to stop it flying any further.

Marcus dives forward to help you, stopping the escape of your water bottle rolling towards the road and sweeping the stray bits of paper back into a semi neat pile before the breeze could carry them away.

You sigh in exhaustion, crouching down beside him to collect the other odd bits and pieces that had flung themselves out of your bag during its untimely demise.

“It’s not been a good day,” you grumble, stretching to reach the tube of lip balm that had rolled a short distance away.

Marcus pauses, his dark eyes moving to your face as his brows pull together in sympathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

The note of concern in his tone warms you sweetly, and the curl of a smile along your lips is a relief after a day of frowning from stress. Leave it to him to chase all things bad away.

“No, seeing you is more than enough.”

His expression of worry gives way to amusement, and he finishes collecting your papers before standing.

“Is that right?”

You grin and follow his lead, leaving your bag safely on the floor before taking each page he patiently holds out to you, taking care to slide them carefully back into your tattered journal — you’d reorganise it later.

“What’s this?”

You glance at his hands to see what he was unfolding and turning in his hands to get a better look at, and the realisation of what he had in his hold smacks you square in the face.

“I’ll take that—” you hurriedly snatch the paper, feeling it crumple between your fingers in your hurry to get it out of his grasp.

He watches you with a sheen of growing interest, noting the way you angle the paper away from his prying gaze.

“What is it?”

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. Is your embarrassment completely obvious right now? He couldn’t know about it – not yet, anyway. What you had with Marcus… it was still so fresh, you’d only just started staying at each other’s places after a few months together.

There was something different about this relationship.

It felt right.

Maybe it was your hopeless romantic heart desperate for its happily ever after, or the way his beautiful eyes managed to see right to the very core of you when no one else had before, but you were sold. Absolutely head over heels.

Marcus was it for you – you knew it with your whole being. You didn’t want anything to spoil it, or anything to scare him away.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe you. He steps closer, his grin widening when you take a hurried, half step back.

“Show me,” he coaxes, playfully reaching for it.

“No, really. It’s nothing. It’s not even finished, and it—no, it’s nothing.”

His face softens, the roguish grin fading into something more tender and it shoots straight to the centre of your chest. Your heart weakens as his hands come to wind around your wrists, softly tugging at them until you’re pressed up against him, his face mere inches from yours.

“Please show me?”

Oh god, no.

Not the puppy eyes.

Damn him.

You scowl lightly at him.

“Do those damn eyes work a lot in interrogation, Agent Pike?”

His shoulders lift into a small shrug, the twitch of a grin tugging at his lips, “Maybe.”

“Okay, but don’t – don’t find it weird or anything. It’s not – I don’t…” you struggle to string together a sentence and inwardly frown at yourself, sighing quietly. “It’s a work in progress. I just… I just felt inspired.”

A small frown works its way between his brows, but he carefully takes it from your hands, his eyes falling to the paper and finding it to be a sheet of music paper, his gaze following along the familiar layout of staves and the hastily scrawled notes along them, with lyrics stretching out beneath.

It’s your recognisable handwriting along the top that catches most of his attention—

For him.

A quick wash of warmth runs along his skin and spreads up his neck. He swears he feels his heart beating in his ears.

“Is this—is this for me?”

You worry your lip between your teeth, watching him study the sheet of paper with the churning of anxiety unsteady in your gut.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly.

It’s the first time you’ve ever shown someone something from you, something delicately crafted and plucked straight from your heart. Yes, you gave your ideas and input freely when it came to the music your band played, but that was a team effort.

This? This was yours.

It was deeply personal on a highly intimate level. You’d never felt this vulnerable before, this open to anyone. It makes you want to shut down; to hastily rebuild those walls you’d built over the many years of failed relationships, the ones Marcus was patiently and carefully dismantling piece by piece.

But you don’t.

Your nails pick at the skin of your fingers as you hold on to the feeling of fear, letting it fill your stomach and run along your nerves in steady waves.

That’s what this is all about, right? Admittedly, you hadn’t felt it a lot during your life, if at all, so surely that’s what love is… throwing yourself into the unknown with the hope of that special someone being there to catch you?

Well this was you, jumping into the abyss, filled with the delicate hope that he’d be there, arms open and ready. You dare not think of what you’d feel if he didn’t.

“You wrote me a song?” He swallows around the growing lump in his throat. “This is… god. I don’t even know what to say.”

His eyes meet yours, and you feel it immediately—

He caught you.

Relief flows over you in a blissful wave and you smile, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Like I said… I was feeling inspired.”

“By what?”

“This… us… you.”

His arms curl around you and this time you step into him easily, letting your front press into his and relishing in the comforting reassurance his embrace provides. Your stomach tightens as you study his face, tracing over the creases in his cheeks as he smiles.

“You’re incredible,” he utters before leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours, stealing your breath and every last remaining thought with the sweet swipe of his tongue.

—

Marcus is reclined comfortably against the headboard of his bed when you eventually leave his ensuite, the leftover steam built from your shower escaping the bathroom and crawling along his bedroom ceiling as you patter softly towards him, watching as he snaps his book shut and discards it on the nightstand.

His legs and arms open for you the moment you begin to crawl onto the mattress, and you sigh in relief when you eventually find yourself resting against him between his thighs, cradled by his arms.

His chest moves softly against your back as he breathes, his lips coming to press against your temple.

“Did the shower help?”

“Mm,” you hum gently, your muscles deliciously loose from the hot water you had stood in for probably far longer than necessary.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks after a few quiet moments, his fingertips lightly dancing along the warm skin of your forearm as you melt into his hold.

“Of course,”

“Will you play it for me? Please?”

You shift, tilting your head against his chest to look back at him.

“But it’s not finished… and it’s a mess.”

“I‘m sure it’ll be perfect. Please, I — I can’t stop thinking about it… but I know it’s something very personal,” he murmurs, and his hold tightens as his lips meet your forehead, “and I want you to be completely comfortable, so if you don’t want to, please know that I understand, and I’m happy to wait until you are.”

You sigh, unable to stop the bashful smile that pulls at your lips from his ever present tenderness and care for your feelings.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… let me go and grab my guitar.”

“Oh, hold on... would you look at that?”

He shifts away from you, briefly leaning over the edge of the mattress to reach the space below his bed. He pulls your guitar free and holds it up carefully in the warm hue of the lamp light, smiling guiltily at you.

You snort, taking the instrument softly and resting back against him, situating the guitar comfortably across your lap and doing a gentle test strum along the strings.

“What would you have done if I had said no?”

His chuckle melts into your ear, “Probably waited for you to fall asleep and then snuck it back out to the couch. Do you need your sheet?”

“Dork,” you murmur, and you heave one final sigh before running your tongue along your lips and plucking the first few chords. “And no… I’ve played it so much, it’s pretty much ingrained into my mind.”

He’s positive you’re able to feel his heart pick up where your back rests against his chest.

It drums stronger and stronger with each note, the soft lilt of your voice carrying the lyrics to his ears and raw emotion starts to claw at his throat the longer he listens.

It’s beautiful, and it’s all for him.

Tears sting the back of his eyes and he presses his face into your shoulder, feeling the hot trail of them slide down his cheeks as they escape from his lash line and soak into the fabric of your sleep shirt.

How did he get here? How did he find this?

It doesn’t make any sense.

His luck with relationships was questionable, his past showing that maybe the universe had other plans for him, maybe he wasn’t meant to settle down with a love that made him ache in all the best of ways, and yet, here he is… with you in his lap and playing this music, singing about a love so sweet, he swears it couldn’t possibly be real.

But it is.

It is, because you’re here.

He feels you.

You’re here, right in his arms.

He feels you move, feels your chest as you pace each inhale and exhale around the words falling from your throat. He feels your nerves and sees the overwhelming love that clearly shines in your eyes when you look back at him after letting the notes fade into silence.

He loves you.

God, he loves you so fucking much.

Maybe the universe wasn’t out to get him.

No. It wasn’t out to get him.

Everything that had happened had led him to this moment with you, and he knew in his heart that he’d gladly endure every bitter, painful heartbreak all over again if it led him to you.

It was finally his turn.

He’d found his forever with you.

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @william-butcher, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @the-queen-of-fools, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @h-hxgirl, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx

marcus pike tags: @pedrohoe04, @evyiione, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @fuckoffbard, @dins-cyare, @eatommo, @serini-ty, @chaoticevilbakugo, @raphaelaisabella, @f*cklife_imdreaminghere,@randomchick546, @jxvipike, @in-for-a-pennyx, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

#foli's 3k #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #the mentalist fic #pedro pascal x reader

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