#childhood friends -> enemies (?) -> ??? -> fiances | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silvergyus · 11 months ago

Note

best man and maid of honour being absolutely enemies and hating the living shit out of each other

hate sex at the bachelor/bachelorette parties?

"i hate you" - c.bg

pairing: best man!beomgyu x maid of honor!reader

summary: your best friend is marrying the love of her life, but you can't stand her groom's best man, choi beomgyu. his arrival at her bachelorette party sends you into a rage, one that turns into something more heated than just an argument

warnings: hate sex, semi-public sex (bathroom at a club), dubcon (reader and bg are both somewhat intoxicated), pussy job, unprotected sex, pull out method, spanking, mention of hickeys, hair pulling (bg receiving), use of "baby/ princess/ pretty slut" for reader, insults as foreplay?

word count: 2,800+

part one of wedding season

“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and swore it was the tequila. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”

“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you humping my leg?”

I need to know where you’re having Soobin’s bachelor party

Your text sat unread alongside several other versions of the same message. God, he was driving you crazy.

It’s true that maybe you were taking your duties as maid of honor a little more seriously than you really needed to. You’d heard the wedding planner mutter that it was almost as if you were the bridezilla. But is it really your fault if the bride was your absolute best friend since childhood and didn’t have a party planning bone in her body? Her big day would be completely perfect in every way, you were going to make damn sure of it- which meant that you couldn’t kill the best man, no matter how much you wanted to.

----

You’d never been a big fan of Beomgyu. He was Soobin’s best friend. You adored Soobin- he made your best friend happy and always was kind and considerate of you when you third wheeled- but you couldn’t understand why someone so kind, so patient as Soobin would be best friends with someone like Beomgyu. They were polar opposites. Soobin was quiet; Beomgyu needed to be the life of the party. It was grating. He was too rowdy, too silly, too committed to the bit.

And right now, he was driving you completely crazy with his lack of responses.

You wanted this bachelorette party to be perfect, straight out of a movie. Dinner, drinks, tiny penis straws- a night to remember. Your best friend and her entire bridal party were going to pregame at your apartment before heading to her favorite club. Everyone would buy her drinks and make her feel like a princess until she got too drunk to walk. You’d even pre-ordered the Uber for the end of the night.

You’d planned out outfits and accessories and a perfect itinerary. This Saturday was going to be perfect. Only one thing could put a wrench in your plans, and he was currently leaving you on delivered.

----

Several days, many texts and a few voicemails later, Beomgyu finally replied.

Same day. Quit worrying. I have everything planned

Where though? You texted back immediately. But to no avail. He didn’t even open your reply.

“That asshole."

----

The bass pumped steadily through the speakers, a thumping you could feel in your chest. The night was going perfectly. Photos were perfectly candid, drinks were flowing steadily, not a hair on your head was out of place. Everyone’s dresses were shiny and slutty and looked damn good. Everything was perfect. Just as you planned. You were practically glowing- or maybe that was just a side effect of the tequila.

You were just about to snap another selfie with the bridal party when you heard a warbled “baby!” from across the bar. Your best friend’s eyes lit up as she turned around to see her fiance rushing towards her. Soobin, larger than life, appeared as a blur, scooping her up in his embrace and plastering drunken kisses across her face.

You froze. Fuck! What is he doing here?

The bride was whisked away by her husband-to-be, leaving you at the bar, mouth hung open in disbelief. Everything was perfect. How could this happen?

The culprit behind your ruined night slid into the seat next to yours. Choi Beomgyu, a nasty smirk on his face, appeared in your sight. Your blood boiled. “How dare you?” you hissed.

His face didn't change as he asked, “how dare I what?”

“How dare you show up here? You knew this was my choice for the bachelorette party.”

“Watch your tone, princess, it was literally not my fault.”

You scoffed, pissed at his tone and the pet name. “How is it not your fault that you’ve brought the guys here to ruin my girls’ night?”

“You know how Soobin gets when he drinks,” Beomgyu reminded you. The part of your brain that wasn’t swimming in tequila recognized that he had a point. You and your best friend had laughed more than once at the sentimental calls she received from a drunken Soobin, in his feelings after a few drinks and missing his girl. The part of your brain that just drank a margarita out of a tiny pink penis straw didn’t care that maybe Beomgyu had a point, that part of your brain was just pissed off.

Your mouth moved faster than the logical part of your brain as you cursed him out. How dare he ruin your night? Why would he do the one thing you asked him not to do? You texted him, so, so, so many times. Though you haven’t drank much, the alcohol mixed easily with the swirling emotions to take your anger from zero to ten quickly, and it wasn’t long before heads began to turn in your direction.

Beomgyu grabbed your wrist to pull you away from the bar, away from the curious eyes. You were reluctantly pulled along towards the shadows near the bathrooms. His grip on your arm only made your anger burn hotter. Who does he think he is?

He pulled you to a stop in the single-stall restroom, his hand finding its way to your waist. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he looked you in the eyes. “You need to calm down.”

"Why the fuck are you here? I told you not to come here. I told you so many times and you fucking showed up anyway!"

He sighed, leaning back as he did. “I told you; Soobin asked and I couldn’t say no.”

The light caught his dark hair at this angle, shining through his bangs and illuminating his features. Was he always this good looking?

Beomgyu noticed your pause. “That’s it then? Got nothing to say now? After that scene out there?”

You felt the anger in your blood pick up again. “Don’t act like I’m the asshole here!” You took a staggering step towards him in the tiny space as you raised your voice. “You could’ve distracted him!”

He took a step back, away from your advancement. He tilted his head, resting it against the dark red wall. Your temper stilled in your chest as your eyes fixated on his Adam's apple, on the sharp angle it possessed, how it jutted out from his pretty throat. What was happening to you? Why were you noticing things about him?

“You keep doing that.” His voice was low when he spoke, its trembling bass sent a shiver down your spine. You swore it was just the alcohol that made you squeeze your thighs together.

“Doing what?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper. You weren’t sure Beomgyu could hear it over the noise of the club, muffled but still noticeable in the small bathroom.

He moved towards you, caging you in, pressing you back against the cool stone of the sink. “Getting distracted.”

Your breath hitched as you took in his features. His brown eyes stared at you with something burning below the surface. His cheeks were flushed red from his own night of drinking. His full lips were parted just so, and were so, so close to yours.

You watched him smirk, laughing at you. The spark of anger flashed in you again. How dare he laugh at you? Put you in this compromising position? Take you away from you girls after ruining your night? “There you go again. Am I that distracting, princess?”

“Shut up.”

“How original.” Despite being impossibly close already, he pressed closer to you, more in your space. You felt the heat grow between your legs and told yourself it was the tequila. “Since it's just the two of us here," he leaned in so his breath fanned against your ear as he spoke. "Why don’t you tell me how you really feel then?”

“I hate you,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you humping my leg?” His voice was deep and mischievous as he asked, dark eyes glinting with a look that made both your anger and the heat between your thighs swell.

You looked down in horror as he lifted the front of your dress to reveal a wet spot on his jeans. “Look baby, all wet just for me.” He was goading you, and fuck, it was working.

“Shut up,” you said again, shoving his shoulders hard so he stepped back. You followed, pushing him against the dark wall once more. Your hands found his collar as you spoke. “You never listen to me! You weren’t supposed to be here! You always make everything about you!” You were pissed, letting the alcohol bring up the feelings you’ve politely squashed down for months. You wanted him to know what you thought of him, needed him to know that you couldn’t stand to be around him. That he was the bane of your existence and this night was the icing on the cake.

But this close you could smell the cologne he dabbed on his throat, a warm, spicy scent that made your head spin a different way than the tequila did. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, tilting his head to look at you and it filled your vision. You suddenly felt very hot and a very strong need to bite it, to mark him up.

“Is that everything? Or is there anything else you want to say?” You met his gaze, dark chocolatey, brown eyes rimmed with pretty lashes. Was Beomgyu hot? How had you never noticed him like this before?

His voice interrupted your thoughts. “Because if it is, I’d like to say that you are the most controlling, tight-wound, micro-managing person I’ve ever met. If it’s not your way, then it’s not right.” He grabbed your hands from his collar as he spoke, holding them tightly as he pushed you backwards until your ass met the cool stone of the sink. “Isn’t that so?”

The action threw you off your guard. He was toying with you in a way you didn’t expect. He was always a tease, but this was much more controlling than you’d ever seen him be. “Answer me.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

“Or what?”

He stared at you, eyes burning into yours as you held your face fierce. You had no idea how to answer but you couldn’t back down. Not now, not to him.

The tension broke by way of Beomgyu claiming your lips with his, a swift kiss that shook you out of your competition. His lips were soft, slightly chapped as he nibbled at yours, tongue darting out to ask for entrance. His tongue was in your mouth, filling your head with notes of beer and whisky, a sharp contrast to the sickly sweet tequila that still coated your tongue. Fuck, he tasted good, deep and smoky, it paired so well with his cologne. Your head spun, fuzzy and light. You needed him, needed him now.

His hand groped your breast over the tight material of your dress, squeezing not for your pleasure but for his. His actions were rough, quickly pulling down the thin fabric to paw at your bra. You broke the kiss to gasp when his fingers pulled roughly at your nipple, but Beomgyu didn’t stop. His hands continued to squeeze and pull however they wanted as his teeth nipped at the column of your throat. It was maddening.

You tugged roughly at his hair, drawing a whine as you pulled him away from your neck. Through the haze in your head you could only remember that you couldn’t have any hickeys at the wedding. “Suck here.” You shoved his head roughly onto your chest, throwing your head back in ecstasy as his hot mouth found your nipple.

It was good, so good. Beomgyu made sweet noises against your skin when you pulled his hair, lightly in comparison to the rough tug that brought him to your chest. His mouth was good, but all the attention to your chest left you feeling needy in your core. You pulled his hair again, forcing his pretty lips away from your aching nipple. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

He rolled his eyes, mouth slick with his saliva. “Always so demanding.” He lifted you onto the ledge of the sink, fingers ghosting up your inner thigh. “Does this pussy need something?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“No,” he said, mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Ask me nicely.”

You scoffed. As if.

But he held your gaze, challenging. You looked down to see the tent in his pants, clearly he wanted this too. But he didn’t budge. “Ask me nicely or I’ll leave you here like this.”

“Fuck you.”

He cocked his head. “Is that so?” His movements were quick as he turned you around so you stood, front plastered to the sink ledge. His hands reached beneath your dress to pull down your soaked panties, leaving you exposed, pressed to his back and facing yourself in the mirror. “If you’re not going to ask nicely, then I’m not going to fuck you.” His voice was a low growl in your ear.

A hand held your chest as you felt him unbutton his pants, actions sloppy and uncoordinated with one hand. You bit back a moan as you felt his hot cock press against your ass. He pushed it against your folds, nudging your clit and making you whine.

“Just this until you beg for my cock.” He thrust against you, cock gathering your drooling wetness and gliding, frustratingly smooth against your sensitive core. It wasn’t enough, couldn’t be enough. His cock felt delicious and hot against you, but it didn’t slip inside. You arched back, aching for him to be inside. He chuckled at the motion. “So desperate.” His hand slapped your ass, the sound loud in the tiny room. “C’mon, use your words.”

You shook your head, not wanting to give in, to let him win. He continued to thrust against your pussy, making a mess of the both of you. The tip of his cock snagged against your entrance and you moaned loudly, hanging your head as you gripped the cool stone sink in an attempt to ground yourself.

He laughed at your display, hand finding your chin and forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself. Such a pretty slut for me,” he groped your chest as he whispered. The dual sensations of his tip brushing against your clit with every thrust and his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples was driving you mad. You needed him, you couldn’t stand it. Paired with the soft pants and almost-hidden moans from Beomgyu behind you, you were stuck maddeningly on the edge.

“C’mon, say it. Ask me. Tell me you need my cock.” He smacked your ass again, pushing you into the sink and breaking your defenses.

“Please! Please Beomgyu, please give me your cock! Need it so bad, fuck, just put it inside.”

His smile was devilish as he kissed your throat. “Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

He didn’t let you answer before pushing his cock fully inside you. Slick with your wetness, he went in smoothly, earning a loud moan from you at the sudden fullness. He groaned along with you, eyes crinkling shut as he took in the feeling. “God, this pussy.”

His hips snapped into you messily. Both of you were already so close to your peaks, there was no way that this would last long. His cock hit that spot inside of you perfectly at this angle. It was a sweaty mess of slick and pleasure and you weren’t sure how long you could hold off before crashing.

“Beomgyu,” you panted his name. “I’m close.” His hand reached down, finding your over-sensitive clit and pressing down roughly. “Don’t- don’t cum in me.” You grabbed his hand that gripped the sink. He nodded against your hair, not looking up.

“Cum on my dick baby, cum on my dick and I’ll cum on your ass.” You nodded, anywhere but inside.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth and you sucked, coating them in your spit. They returned to rub quick, hard circles on your clit. Your orgasm struck you like lighting, hot and heavy it poured down on you, splitting your fuzzy head wide open. Your legs shook against Beomgyu and before you were fully through your high he was pulling out to shoot his load across the bare skin of your ass.

The two of you stood there, leaning against the sink for support as you panted, coming down from your highs. Beomgyu’s forehead rested against your back.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he shuffled away, still close, but not pressed against you. “We should,” you began. He was still beautiful, even after your cloud of rage-induced lust had faded. You cleared your throat. “We should, um, we should probably clean up. Go find everyone.”

His voice was husky when he spoke. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Your gaze lingered on him for a little too long before you replied softly, “yeah, probably.”

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @theresawtf, @dearlyjun, @moamidzyism, @miupow

send a message to be added or removed from my taglist!

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #ari writes #txt: beomgyu #ari's mailbox 📬#˚‧⁺ ♡˖ wedding season fic series

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lizzy06 · 11 months ago

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Ushijima Wakatoshi Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Shiratorizawa Fic Rec Masterlist

Shoot the ball ✨✨💖by alkhale (enemies to friends to lovers, pinning, fluff) As captain of the dying Shiratorizawa Kyudo Club, you're sick and tired of the biased favoritism that goes to the showier sports. Especially the worst of them all—the boy's volleyball team. You're determined make the entire school a fan of your archery. You just didn't know that you had a fan from the start. [COMPLETED]

I Believe You’re My Soulmate✨✨ by @sleepybutwriting (oneshot, soulmate au, humor) Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. With the phrase you got, you always pictured your soulmate as some nerdy guy, but boy are you wrong. [COMPLETED]

porphyra✨✨ by deltachye (fluff)Despite the uniform of regality, he wasn’t a King but rather an Ace; and he’d long since stolen the title of your Ace of Hearts. [COMPLETED]

Bitter/sweet ✨by krystallisert (oneshot, fake dating, smut )“You could just get a girlfriend, you know,” he continues, hands at his hips. “Or a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re into.” [COMPLETED]

habits of my heart ✨✨by heartcondemned (first love, fluff, heartbreak)In your second year at Shiratorizawa you form an unlikely friendship with the school's golden boy that takes your life in directions you never expected. Fate has a funny way of bringing together the most unlikely people. [ONGOING]

Prodigy by infinitely hopeful Being the daughter of a prodigy volleyball player from Shiratorizawa meant that the demon coach entrusted no one else but you to manage the boys' volleyball team but you need to prove yourself to the captain who feels your role is unnecessary. [COMPLETED]

Red Thread. ✨by deltachye (soulmate au, angst, domestic fluff, eventual smut, )What do you do when your soulmate loves volleyball more than he’ll ever love you? [COMPLETED]

Story Time ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, fluff)When you are assigned a partner project with the intimidating Ushiwaka, you start to realize he’s not all that scary, and maybe, just maybe you could teach him a thing or two about Happily Ever Afters. [COMPLETED]

Sober Thoughts✨ by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst to fluff, skippable smut scene!!)Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual? [COMPLETED]

you are jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him ✨✨by @screamin-abt-haikyuu (oneshot, childhood friends, angst to fluff) You think Ushijima isn't interested in dating.... even if the new student is a famous actress ...right? [COMPLETED]

Wine and Movie Pt 1| Pt 2 | Pt 3 by @seokiloquy [COMPLETED]

Impress Me Not by @seokiloquy ()oneshot, fluff[COMPLETED]

in proximity✨ by @lcvemiyuki (oneshot, fluff)ushijima asking for help on English is one thing--him sitting just inches away from you is another [COMPLETED]

Love is pain ✨ by @lou-struck (oneshot, fluff, soulmate au) People who share the same heart are led to each other by their pain which gets more intense the closer the two of you get. Imagine how you feel going to a Schweden Adlers game only to feel a blinding pain in your fingers when their Ace makes a block. [COMPLETED]

I need a challenge by @liillyliilly (oneshot, journalist! reader) [COMPLETED]

baby fever by @noosayog (oneshot, implied smut) Ushijima gets baby fever after seeing you with Iwaizumi's kid. [COMPLETED]

from no one to someone by @ennoshitas-princess (oneshot, fluff)You and Ushi-kun have known each other since middle school but never interacted, until he was stuck on some of the problems on an assignment. Sharing lunches and walking together. [COMPLETED]

Morning Runs by @karasuno-chaos (oneshot, fluff) Morning runs with your fiance. [COMPLETED]

In Time ✨by kaientai (soulmate au, fluff)In which Ushijima Wakatoshi firmly disbelieves in the success rate of soulmate-based relationships and you're too devoted to them for your own good. [COMPLETED]

Page 304 by deltachye (fluff, angst)Love had never really had that much meaning to him. It was just a word on the 304th page of the dictionary and that was it. Until one day, he flipped to the 304th page and thought of you. [COMPLETED]

drowning in a dream✨ by ealynwrites (fluff, humor, idiots in love, jealousy)where ushijima wakatoshi assumes they are dating, when in fact she has no idea.

real by @somethinginthethunder (oneshot, fluff) Ushijima Wakatoshi wonders if what he’s bringing to the table in this relationship is enough. At least, for you. [COMPLETED]

Hot Springs by @t0wnspersonb (oneshot, smut, fluff) You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water. [COMPLETED]

you and wakatoshi have a fight by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) [COMPLETED]

Sunshine by yril (arranged marriage, fluff, angst) You found a good job with a high salary, but it turns out it was high for a reason. You were about to change your mind but they offer it to be doubled. [ONGOING]

soulmate au with professor by @setter-crush-central (oneshot, soulmate au) You both have matching tattoo lines. [COMPLETED]

jealous by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, fluff) [COMPLETED]

rumor has it | part two by @bokutosworld (fluff) among the things you imagined happening on a Friday, being the subject of rumors wasn’t one of them. [COMPLETED]

The Eagle and The Rabbit by @t0wnspersonb (onneshot)Your directional skills weren’t the best, but it never mattered as long as Ushijima was by your side. But what happens when he’s not? [COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]

Is Ushijima Wakatoshi a Domestic Deity or Dud? by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]

oneshot by @omisu (oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers)your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles. [COMPLETED]

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khunyuki · 1 year ago

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ

Synopsis: Having the infamous Vice-Captain of the Third Division of the Defense Force as your fiance isn't easy especially when the rest of the force expects you to be strong enough to be worthy to be by his side along with your family demanding you to finally get married and give them an heir. The continuous onslaught of expectations and demands from all sides keeps you up at night when you think about how you don't really have a good relationship with him. Or at least that's what you thought...

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: This is a series but I'll try making every part as oneshots so you can read them as is without being confused. I'll add the links once i'm done making the story ^_^

Trope/s: Arranged Marriage; Misunderstandings; Childhood Sweethearts; Hopeless Romantic; Hidden Power; School Romance; Soulmates; Love at First Sight; Workplace Romance

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut, Romance, Action

Warning/s: Insecurities, Anxiety, NSFW, Jealousy, Self Hurt

Masterlist

Original Character:

Uzui Kagami

The Uzui clan of ninjas has always been active in assisting the Hoshina clan from the shadows, with a only few of its members serving the Defence Force and the rest being assigned as bodyguards for important people. The Uzuis had been cultivating their personal blade style, however, only select individuals can manage to fully exhibit its potential, thus encouraging its family members to focus on their technical skills in weaponry.

Chapters:

A. Take everything, just not him (Angst)[Introduction][Published]

1. I love you (Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)[Published]

2. I'll show you how much you mean to me (Hurt/Comfort, Smut)[Published]

3. Now do you see just how much I care? (Fluff/Aftercare)[Published]

Side Story:

a. You will always have a special place in my heart (Fluff) [uploaded]

b. Jealousy, jealousy [uploaded]

c. We promised to take care of each other, didn't we? (Fluff)[uploaded]

d. I guess I'm just a friend to you, huh? (Narumi Gen)[uploaded]

e. Puppy Love (Fluff)[drafts]

f. Resisting Temptations (Mild Smut)[Published]

g. I don't want to be just friends but... (Angst)[Published]

h. I am a jealous girl/boy [drafts]

Requests:

Do you want to be my wife that badly? (NSFW)[Published]

Deprived hours (NSFW)[Published]

Prince Charming Gone Wrong [Published]

-> The aftermath [Published]

The enemy of my enemy is not my friend [Published]

What Ifs

Kagami got captured by kaiju no.9 and saved by Soshiro

Kagami almost dying and becomes comatose

#hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro x oc #soshiro hoshina x oc #soshiro hoshina #yukikhun

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allwaswell16 · 2 years ago

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A fic rec of One Direction fics with a fake/pretend relationship during Christmas holidays as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

— Louis/Harry —

🎄 Mistletoe's For Two by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 90k, enemies to lovers) After an encounter in a coffee shop with the rudest man he's ever met, Louis hopes the city is just big enough that he'll never bump into him again. When he spots that man at a bar the following evening, a plan begins to form.

🎄 Let Our Hearts Collide by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(M, 76k, While You Were Sleeping au) When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son.

🎄 Chestnuts Roasting... And All That by elsi_bee / @elsi-bee

(M, 46k, roommates) It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party.

🎄 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence

(NR, 36k, strangers to lovers) Harry loves Christmas, but this year is special. After ten years of boyfriends all failing to ever meet Harry's family, Harry has a fiance to introduce and things are looking like they will be perfect. Until they break up.

🎄 Harry, Did You Know (that your baby boy, is married to his best friend?) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(E, 35k, marriage pact) 10 years ago, Louis and Zayn made a pact that if they weren't married by 30, they'd marry each other. So they do, as best mates do.

🎄 Find You Home by @kingsofeverything

(E, 35k, roommates) When Louis lies to his family and says he’ll bring his new boyfriend home for Christmas, his best friend and roommate Harry agrees to play the part. It’s that, or be left alone over the holidays.

🎄 From the Start by @allwaswell16

(E, 32k, viral video) Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

🎄 Lovin' you is a gift by @softfonds

(E, 25k, Pretty Woman au) With his 28th birthday approaching, Louis was looking forward to celebrating in New York City with an all-expenses paid trip. He just didn't expect to spend it with an escort when he suddenly finds himself single a few days before it.

🎄 under the rain or under the snow by MquietMiNd

(E, 20k, exes) Christmas AU where they broke up a month ago but Harry shows up at Louis’ childhood home for the holidays.

🎄 Wrapped in Red by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 15k, strangers to lovers) Louis backs himself into a corner and has two days to find a date to bring to the Horan Family's big annual Christmas party to both appease his mother, and show up an ex-boyfriend.

🎄 The Christmas Lift by @homosociallyyours

(G, 13k, neighbors) Louis lies about having a boyfriend to avoid being set up on a blind date by an overzealous co-worker, but now he's in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his office holiday party.

🎄 the fake zarry au (series) by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian

(M, 13k, famous/not famous) A fake dating with a twist famous/not-famous enemies to friends to secret lovers where Larry and Ziam fall in love behind the scenes while Zarry bicker in public.

🎄 Not Another Lonely Christmas by @haztobegood

(E, 8k, set up) the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis

🎄 A Story For the Ages by @fallinglikethis

(NR, 7k, strangers to lovers) After seven months of pretending to have a boyfriend in order to keep his mum from meddling in his love li fe again, he should have realized he’d have to actually introduce her to someone eventually.

🎄 A Boyfriend for Christmas by Chelsea Frew / @chelsea-frew

(G, 5k, strangers to lovers) Louis' co-worker, Gemma, asks Louis to be her date for Christmas dinner.

🎄 Christmas Pretenders by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 4k, baker Harry) When Niall convinced Louis to come home with him for the holidays as his fake boyfriend, he never expected he'd run into the loveliest man he'd ever seen.

— Rare Pairs —

🎄 'Cause I Could Be The One by justyrae

(M, 14k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) "Just remember," Louis says, gently touching Nick's wrist before he can open the front door. "You're proper in love with me, no matter how much of a dick I can be."

🎄 Snowflakes & Mistletoe by Justonebreathx

(E, 5k, Zayn/Liam) Liam is in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his company's Christmas dinner, so he puts an ad on Craigslist thinking that’s the only way he can find one.

#ficrec #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #hltracks #tracksintheam #hlcreators

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buddierecs · 1 year ago

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mutual pining buddie recs

all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

ripples all the way down by: iriswests "christopher partakes in some parent trapping" word count: 57k important tags: jealous!evan buckley, jealous!eddie diaz, slow burn, miscommunication, happy ending little lies by: david3096 "chris tells a lie at school and now eddie and buck must give a talk about love and work pretending to be fiances." word count: 62k important tags: christopher diaz is national treasure, idiots in love, fake dating, miscommunication, fluff the dream you wish will come true by: woodchoc_magnum "in which christopher diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when evan buckley is right there." word count: 29k important tags: getting together, light angst, soft!eddie diaz sleeping arrangement by: staris2tired "after buck and eddie realize how easy it is to sleep through the night when they're sharing the same bed, they keep to this secret sleeping arrangement. too bad it's quite complicated to share a full sized bed with your best friend when you're both tall, touchy, and totally in love with each other." word count: 26k important tags: sharing a bed, friends to lovers, ptsd, soft!buddie, protective!evan buckley, light angst heart of flowers/heart of gold by elvensorceress "after nearly losing each other, buck and eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." word count: 144k important tags: season 4, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, evan buckley takes care of eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz, gun shot wounds let me roll it to you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which eddie starts dating ana and buck starts dating around; eddie does not cope that well with change, buck is oblivious and everyone else thinks they're a pair of idiots." word count: 22k important tags: angst, oblivious!evan buckley, jealous!eddie diaz, idiot in love the pain will leave you once it's done by: fruitsdoesnotknow "when daniel buckley lives a little longer, evan buckley dies a little more. and this is how eddie diaz saves him, a little later on" word count: 43k important tags: nurse!eddie diaz, christopher diaz is a national treasure, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, grief, slow burn, found family a reservoir in your eyes by: dylaesthetics "the buddie roommates fic where buck’s apartment burns down, christopher teaches him gen-z slang, and buck finally snaps." word count: 7k important tags: roommates, friends to lovers, getting together, dual pov, fluff, angst, touch-starved it's not the roaring dream, it's the silent lightning by: giselleslash "the one where buck is married to eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go." word count: 15k important tags: lighting strike/season 6, coma dream, love confession, hurt/comfort, team as family, soft!buddie, worried!eddie diaz, hurt!evan buckley my love, my life (series) by: lizzybizzyzzz "buck adopts a cat to help him cope with the after-effects of the lightning strike while eddie pines for him (and gains a furry enemy)" word count: 41k important tags: cat owners!buddie, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers, love confessions you come back with gravity by foxwatson "the one where they're childhood friends, until buck moves away, and the only thing eddie diaz has ever really wanted is buck" word count: 15k important tags: mutual pining, slow burn, first kiss, first time

#eddie diaz #911 abc #evan buckley #buck x eddie #911 fandom #911 show #buck x eddie fic #ao3 #ao3 link #911 fox #buddie fic #mutual pining fics #ao3feed #buddie recommendations #buddie fics #evan buck buckley

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anime-fan-05 · 4 months ago

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Hello! I hope you don't mind, but could I request a SFW alphabet of Jin or Yusuke from Yu Yu Hakusho please? I adore them both so much and your writing is amazing!

Yu Yu Hakusho ~SFW alphabet~

Manga/anime: Yu Yu Hakusho

Warnings: slight spoilers of Yusuke's childhood, episodes 52 and 91 and chapters 90, 91, 148 and 149

(Y/N): your name

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

In private he's a great cuddler: he never lets you go once he has you in his arms! Instead, he doesn't show much affection in public; he does it mostly to protect you (he doesn't want anyone to associate you with him). However, if you pay attention, you'll see he's always looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think he's a really good friend, a bit tsundere, but a good friend: surely he would be thoughtful and protective of you. Your connection point could have been Keiko, who introduced you, or a mission together entrusted to you two by Koenma.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

As I've written before, in private he really likes to cuddle, and his favorite position is to have you in front of him while you lie in bed and talk about your day. Instead, in public he's much more reserved: the most he'll get is an arm on the small of your back if the place you're in is particularly crowded.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he has a huge desire to have a family, as his isn't particularly good, although he'll never admit it, so he would like to settle down with you. He isn't particularly good at cleaning, but in my opinion he can cook pretty decently (after all, he has to eat something edible at home).

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he had to break up with you, he would be a little abrupt and detached, even if he would take that attitude to avoid getting emotional. He would be ready to receive your hatred or your blows (if you decided to punch or kick him out of anger) with your last hug. After apologizing to you, he would disappear from your life forever to avoid making you suffer further.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The only problem which stopped him from establishing a relationship with you was the fear you could become a possible target of his enemies, but, after a great deal of convincing on your part, he was convinced to try having a relationship with you. He would like to make the marriage proposal to you quite quickly.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Maybe he can be a little harsh with his words, especially when you're in public, but he's always very kind with his gestures: for example he always touches you as if you were porcelain, or he makes sure to listen to you as much as possible when you speak. Furthermore, he tries to always remain kind to you, even when he's angry, and most of the time he succeeds.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes to hug you a lot, but he'll never do it in public except in very rare cases. Typically you two hug while standing, with one of his arms bringing your head towards his collarbone and the other around your waist and his head buried on your neck, while your arms are either resting on his chest or around his neck or waist.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He confessed to loving you after you two had been engaged for some time: he had already told you several times he liked you, but the "I love you" came shortly after Genkai's death, while you were consoling him, cuddling and holding him tightly to you and whispering sweet and reassuring words to him; it came out unintentionally but, when you asked him if he really meant what he said, he confirmed he really loved you very much.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He becomes jealous quite quickly, especially of people he holds in high esteem: he immediately starts to feel a little insecure, to think he doesn't deserve you; when that happens, you can notice his eyes sadden slightly, and he just wants to be reassured by you. Nonetheless, he doesn't demonstrate those insecurities, and he approaches you to chase away who's courting you by masking them with false confidence.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are quite sweet and slightly possessive in some cases (for example if he becomes jealous), generally on your lips, or even on your cheeks and forehead; as for him, he has a weakness for kiss on his lips' corner: every time you kiss him there, he blushes slightly and pulls you in for a kiss on the lips ("Where are you going? I want my kiss!").

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Although he has to admit he wouldn't mind having a mini Yusuke or mini you, I doubt he'll ever have children, both due to his job and because he believes he's incapable of caring for children. In fact, since it's as if he grew up alone, he isn't very good with children: for instance he doesn't understand what they want when they cry.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

When you two wake up early, he usually gets up earlier and tries to make you breakfast (but he always ends up making a mess). Instead, if he has to get up early, he stays for a while in bed to cuddle you, then goes to get ready for the day and, before leaving the house, he leaves an affectionate kiss on your forehead. On the rare days when you both can get more sleep you wake up in a tangle of blankets and limbs after 10am.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He often comes home late, so most of the time you're already asleep; when that happens, he gets ready for bed making as little noise as possible and then slips under the sheets with you, falling asleep hugging you. Instead, if it's early, you two get ready together and either watch a movie on your tablet or computer in bed or, if you're tired, lie down and cuddle until you fell asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He would be quite open about his past (he isn't ashamed of it and he has never considered it a secret or hidden it), but something he wouldn't be open about would be his feelings and emotions: it would be really hard to understand how he feels, and he wouldn't make it easy.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Generally he doesn't have much patience, but with you it increases considerably: of course sometimes he gets angry, but he'll never yell at you or get physical with you, rather in those cases he prefers to distance himself from you to avoid hurting you physically or psychologically.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It depends on the information he needs to remember: if he perceives it as important, he'll do everything he can to remind it; nevertheless, if you talk to him while he's doing something else or distracted by something, it's very unlikely he'll remember what you told him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The best memory he has of you two is an hug: he had just finished a long and dangerous mission and he had rushed to your house, running very quickly; he met you on the street, and you both threw yourself on top of each other, ending up on the ground, heedless of the dirty looks from passers-by. He remember that time he held you in his arms as if you would disappear in a few seconds, burying your face in his neck and pushing your body against his to feel your warmth.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's quite protective of you: he knows he's a target both because of his work and his lineage, so he knows his enemies will probably target you, and he has promised himself to do everything to protect you, for example by accompanying you home when it gets dark. The best way you can protect him is to make sure he doesn't push himself too hard and not to get hurt (he'll freak out if that happens).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

As for dates and anniversaries, he puts in those a lot of effort to make you happy and satisfy you by taking you where you want and doing what you want. However, since he isn't the richest person in the world, he can't give you too expensive gifts, but he's a romantic at heart, so they've a deep meaning. He also goes the extra mile with the little things he can do to help you and make you happy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has the bad habit of exceeding his limits: he very often comes home full of wounds and bruises, making you very worried. You must make him understand he mustn't exaggerate with his body, not only for him, who can be in great pain, but also for you, who can no longer bear to see him in that state; after many chats with you, he'll finally understand he mustn't overwork himself and try to stop before exceeding his limits.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't care much about his appearance, but he always has the decency to show up to your appointments well dressed and combed; don't expect him to show up to you in suit and with lacquered hair, but at least his clothes are well ironed and his hair isn't sticking out.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I'll be honest: he wouldn't miss you much if you were separated, since he's always quite busy, or rather he wouldn't miss you most of the time. If he was feeling particularly affectionate, he would feel very incomplete without you even if you only went for a few minutes to get water from the kitchen; or, the same would happen even if he was without you for a long time, like a few months.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

He has the habit of fixing your hair when it slips in front of your face and bothers you, For example while you're doing homework. Whenever he's with you and strands of hair get in your face, he'll tuck it behind your ear, or sometimes he'll offer to tie it up for you. Plus, it also gets rid of stray hairs from your clothes.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like evil or exploitative people, nor those who want his attention all the time: he's very busy with his missions, so he needs to have at his side someone who can spend most of his day alone. He wouldn't even be comfortable with someone who's very arrogant or who treats others or even themself badly, as he wouldn't be able to take care of someone who gets hurt.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He's a particularly heavy sleeper and he moves a lot while sleeping, so you may find yourself pushed out of bed many times. However, there are days when he sleeps holding you: generally in those cases he sleeps on his back with one arm wrapped around you, who rest your head on his chest, almost always on the heart side, half lying on him.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He has no shame: whether you're alone or in public, he always showers you with affection. His way of showing affection is touch: for example, whenever you're together, he always has his hand joined with yours or an arm inside your waist.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Your friendship definitely started with you being scared to death of him, who sneaked up on you from behind and laughed handsomely at your reaction. As a friend he would be very affectionate and energetic: every time you see each other, he takes you on thrilling adventures.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He's particularly clingy: he always wants to hold you in his arms and, whenever he has the chance, he rushes over to hug and cuddle you. You two cuddle in every position and in every place, even in public; his favorite position is having you on his lap while sitting on the roof of your house (he especially loves carrying you off the roof while flying).

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He actually invited himself to live in your house from the first days of your relationship: "Why should I wait to come here? We're engaged!". He's never cleaned, so he isn't good at that at all but, if you've a little patience and teach him, he'll learn it; however, when it comes to cooking, he isn't and will never be able to cook more than one omelette.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he had to break up with you, you probably wouldn't take him seriously, since he would talk to you in his usual cheerful and joking tone. This aspect could make you angry, and you two could leave each other not on good terms. However, even after leaving you, he would continue to watch you from afar without being noticed, at least for the first times after the break.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Being a youkai, he doesn't understand well either the concept of engagement or that of marriage: in his opinion you became his partner from the moment he claimed you as his. He didn't ask you that because it's normal for him, and in fact he always introduces you as his partner, the first few times causing you to be shocked exactly because he had never spoken to you about a possible engagement.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically he's generally gentle, apart from a few rare cases where he hurts you as he doesn't control strength forgetting humans are weaker than youkai; psychologically, instead, he's a little less kind, but only because he doesn't realize the weight of his words. However, if you tell him what may offend you, he'll stop saying them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves to hug you very much! He does it always and in any case, in every circumstance: he would even do that during a fight... His hugs are very long (if he could, he would hold you in his arms all day) and tight. Typically, you two hug as he takes flight, so your arms are around his neck and your face against his chest; instead, one of his arms is around your waist, the other under your legs, as he holds you close to him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I've the impression your first "I love you" was said by him quite casually: being a youkai, he isn't used to the importance of those three words, so he probably told you them before you went to sleep ("Good night, I love you!") or after you had told him or brought him something ("Thank you, I love you very much!"), leaving you shocked and flushed. Even now he tells you them very often without yet being fully aware of their meaning.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He isn't particularly jealous, mostly because he's quite naive and doesn't notice if someone flirts with you. However, being a youkai, he still has a slight streak of possessiveness: if he sees you uncomfortable with someone, he'll swoop down to you and stand behind you, hugging you from behind, and he'll give him dirty looks (although very often he'll be more cute than scary: he'll look like a cat fluffing up his fur!).

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are generally sweet, a little playful; very often it happens he peppers your face with kisses after having kissed your lips. The places he kisses you the most are your lips and cheeks: the first ones especially when he's happy or you two haven't seen each other for a long time, the second ones when he wants to be a little more playful. There's no place he prefers to be kissed but, if you kiss the tips of his ears or his small horn, he'll blush a little.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's never come into contact with children, so he isn't particularly good with them: he can easily make them laugh, play and have fun, but he doesn't understand what they want when they cry and he isn't good with their more "domestic" care (for example changing them, making them eat or sleep...).

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Get ready, because he gets you out of bed very early: at the crack of dawn you can already hear him calling you to do something with him. You very often spend the morning together, either relaxing or doing various activities such as cooking (you always have to keep him from blowing up your house) or going for walks, but, if you've to go somewhere and he can't come, he'll be offended and look at you as if you're abandoning him.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He's also active at night, but for you he tries to let you rest and not disturb you. When you get ready for bed, he follows you like a faithful puppy; when you go to bed, he lies down with you and cuddles you, talking about his day and lulling you to sleep with his words. After you fall asleep, he either stays with you for a while or flies off to train or into the youkai world.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's been pretty open with you since the beginning of your relationship: he trusts you, and he hasn't any big secrets to keep from you. The interesting thing is he reveals some things about him at the most random moments: for example, once you two were in a very dangerous situation, and he came out with: "Do you know when I hadn't learned to use my powers yet I fell on a rock and scraped my skin all over?"

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He never, never gets angry: he's too cheerful for that. If situations in which any person would get angry arise, he doesn't do so: of course it's a question of character, but it's really pleasant to be with him, since whatever the situation he never loses his temper.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I'll be honest: he absolutely doesn't remember any of your important dates, mostly because he's never been used to doing so, since those things aren't part of youkai culture; he also has a hard time remembering things about you, but he still tries his best to remember something, like your tastes.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His best memory is the first time he flew with you in his arms: he picked you up without telling you, an action that made you squeal in fright and hold onto him tightly, and then he started lifting up. While he was doing scary stunts in the air, you were wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist like a koala and yelled at him: "Jin, you idiot! Stop! Don't you dare make me fall!" "But it's fun, (Y/N)! And then don't worry, I'll never let you fall."

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He becomes really protective if you're in places where there are a lot of youkai. He's protective in quite subtle ways, such as by creating invisible barriers around you; sometimes, with the excuse of feeling alone, he hugs you, protecting you from small things, such as strong winds or even a blow from a possible enemy. The way he needs to be protected is by not being cheated on or left by you: he would never be the same again if that happened.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

For youkai the concepts of dates, anniversaries and gifts are foreign, so it took him some time to understand them: now, for example, he brings you small trinkets he meets on the street, but he still doesn't remember your important anniversaries; instead, he's always quite available if you ask him to do something, but sometimes he tends to exaggerate his actions to be seen and praise by you, and ends up creating small disasters.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has the bad habit of always being "comical" and cheerful: he's never serious, and he takes everything that happens lightly. It's really difficult to have a serious conversation with him, and sometimes you get into fights about that. One positive thing, though, is that he has become aware of that problem and he's trying to improve himself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't care practically at all about his appearance, since it isn't typical for youkai to care much about their physical appearance. That doesn't necessarily mean he's scruffy, but sometimes he comes to your appointments in flight, so often with slightly disheveled hair or clothes not in order due to the speed he flies with.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Maybe at first he would hardly even notice you're missing, but after a while he would start to miss you like air: he would start complaining to his classmates and whining ("I miss (Y/N)!") and try to reach you in every way. Little anecdote: once you had a school meeting lasting a few hours, and you found him knocking on the glass of the window of the room where it was held, greeting you and saying "I miss you" in labial.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

He loves to take you by surprise: he very often sneaks up on you, picking you up from behind like a bride, and takes you with him while flying; in addition, he really enjoys doing reckless stunts in flight, just to feel you clinging to him because of fear, but he always promises you he'll never let you fall, no matter what.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He would never look for someone he thinks is boring: he wants to date someone who loves the thrill of an adventure like him or at least who doesn't like to stay still for a long time. He needs someone with whom he can vent all his daily energy, not someone who will frustrate him because he doesn't want to do anything. In addition, I think he wouldn't like someone who's too perfectionist or bossy.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

I don't think youkai sleep, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like lying in bed with you and watching you sleep, but there are times when he doesn't want to stay still and lie down with you, so he leaves you alone in bed while he flies away ("Why do you humans have to sleep so much? What's fun about lying still on a bed?").

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

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antisocial-mochi267 · 2 years ago

Text

JIMIN fic recs oneshot PART 1

Hope it helps to find you the great fics! Hope it helps!! And please leave a comment/like/reblog or any reviews guys the writers should receive the appreciation they deserve (I'll be eventually adding more fics here)

Minors strictly DNI

And if you want recs about any particular trope or au I'm always willing to help 👀🤗

Oneshot :-

Fluff :- ☁️

Angst :- 🥀

Smut :- 🔥

Crack :- 🎃

Personal Favourite :- ✨

1. you.Me.us__ ☁️🔥🥀 (stalker, yandere , thriller) @kosmosguk

2. Driver's license __ ☁️🥀✨ (coming-of-age, one-sided!au, brother's bestfriend!au) @gyukult

3.while you are at it __ ☁️🔥(pool boy jimin, divorced reader). @aureumjeon

4. I need you __ ☁️🔥🥀(exes to lovers, oneshot, idol au) @hisunshiine

5. Crystal snow __ ☁️🥀✨ (figure skating!au, fantasy!au, king jimin, supernatural power). @minniepetals

6. Vampire's garden__☁️🎃(College student jimin, fantasy, dark fantasy, vampire au). @ebonyinktea

7. soliloquy __☁️🎃 (Angel jimin× human reader). @kinktae

8. schrödinger’s cat__ ☁️🎃✨(guardian angel jimin, comfort) @dovechim

9. Azure blue__☁️🎃✨(Adventure, Fairy!Au ) @jimlingss

10. The pull of the tides __☁️🔥(surfur au, Strangers to lovers) @goldenscript

11. Fairytale__☁️🎃(merman jimin × human reader) @gukyi

12. Rock bottom __☁️🥀🔥✨( Idol!Jimin, establishedrelationship!AU, marriage! AU) @jkbabiey

13. Boats against the current __☁️🎃✨ (Hogwarts au, opposite to lovers). @gukyi

14. Into the wilderness __☁️🥀🎃✨ (camp counselor!au, unrequited love!au, friends to lovers!au) @gukyi

15. Lover to lean on__☁️🥀🔥🎃✨ (neighbour au, flower shop au, it's more complicated) @sketchguk

16. Paper bandits __☁️🎃(highschool au, S2F2L) @vantaenims

17. Blowing dandelions __☁️🥀🔥(badboy jimin, e2l, childhood friends, college au). @httpjeon

18. Grinch in law__☁️🥀🔥✨(fiance to marriage, bad to good mother-in-law, established relationship) @mercurygguk

19. Cut me free__☁️🥀🔥(Demon Yandere jimin ) @sopejinsunflower

20. Earnestly yours __ ☁️🎃✨(Highschool au , enemies to lovers , actor au) @gukyi

21. Theophany (To Paint a God) __☁️🥀🔥 (college!au , Old Friends to Lovers , Best Friend’s Brother!Jimin , Bisexual!Reader , Dancer!Jimin , Painter!Reader) @ilikemesometaetaes

22. Hello__ ☁️🥀🔥✨(exestolovers!au, high school pining, adult love, slice of life au ) @gyukult

23. Only you __ ☁️🔥 (single dad jimin, best friends to lovers au) @personasintro

24. Hell-ish__☁️🎃 (establisedrelationship, kinda fun date) @jtrbluv

25. 20 things and continuing I Hades about you__☁️🥀🎃✨ (dj famous jimin× pa reader) @readyplayerhobi

26. Just a little bit of love(is all you really need)__☁️🎃 (gymnastics au) @gukyi

27. Poster boy __ ☁️ (highschool au, social anxiety, comfort) @versigny

28. He's pretending__☁️🎃✨ (Enemies-to-lovers (kinda, jimin is in deniel but lowkey wipped) Daemon!Jimin x Faerie!Reader, fantasy au). @crystaljins

29. Adonis __☁️🎃 (firefighter jimin, s2l ). @xjoonchildx

30. Red gardania__☁️✨ (ballerina au, secret admirer, kinda e2l ) @joyfulhopelox

31. Shake shack __☁️🔥🎃(stranger to crushes to lovers) @kth1

32. The happiest place on earth __☁️🎃🔥 (Disneyland actors au, slice of life au) @dovechim

33. The midnight pack __☁️🎃🔥 (wolf au, S2L) @jjungkookislife

34. Terrible liar__☁️🥀✨ (F2L, pinning , comfort) @writtenwhalien

35. All that glitters __☁️🥀🎃✨(kinda soft Yandere/ tsudere jimin , Obsession) @deepdarkdelights

36. Deviant affairs __☁️🔥🥀(new Yandere stepbro jimin ) @yandere-society

37. Believe it __☁️🥀🔥✨(friends to enemies to lovers (it’s more complicated though)+ bet AU , high school to after high school) @writtenwhalien

38. Love you a latte__☁️🎃(Yandere Jimin, Stalking, Masturbation, obsession, it's kinda angsty though) @worldwidemochiguy

39. Heartbreak Insurance__☁️🎃✨ (insurance agent jimin× fraud reader, S2 F2 L) @jimlingss

40. Wicked obsession __🔥☁️(University AU, friends with benefits, unhealthy obsession) @peachypinkygloss

41. Love pages__☁️🥀(Yandere, highschool au, supernatural kinda) @jimlingss

42. The devil's own luck__☁️🥀🎃✨ (demon jimin , Slice of Life). @jimlingss

43. Beneath the water __☁️🥀🔥🎃✨(merman jimin× human reader, mermaid au, fantasy au). @jungshookz

44. His hoodie my hoodie__☁️🔥🎃✨ ( S2F2L, college au) @yoongihime

45. Kiss the girl__☁️🎃 (Disney land prince jimin×waitress girl, f2l, whipped) @sketchguk

46. Devil's advocate__☁️🎃(devil jimin ×human reader) @7cypher

47. No need for dreaming__☁️🎃(roommate au, clumsy jimin, frenemies to lovers) @ve1vetyoongi

48. Nine to five__☁️🎃🔥(softie smut, fwb2L, Dr. jm) @jiminrings

49. Just a taste__☁️🥀🔥🎃(Vampire jimin, established relationship). @yoonieper

50. Safe haven__☁️🥀🔥✨(royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin × princess reader, forbidden love au, medieval royal au) @kth1fics

51. Spiral__☁️🥀✨(Time traveler Jimin, teenager! reader, underground fighter! Jimin, time jumps, violence, blood, supernatural) @i-am-baechu

52. Red flag__☁️🎃🔥✨( richboy!jimin x mystery!reader, strangers to enemies to lovers to potential plaintiff) @xjoonchildx

#jimin fic #bts x reader #yandere!jimin #jimin smut #jimin comfort #bts fic rec #jimin fic recs #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts fic #pjm #park jimin #jimin × reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts jimin #jimin oneshot

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eddiesghxst · 2 years ago

Text

ALL I WANTED

part one | part two | part three

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

summary: your band, Daughters of Vampira, and Corroded Coffin hate each other and are struggling to keep a clean image in the media; so, in an attempt to solve the issue, your managers try to come up with a solution.

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, cheating (reader is cheated on by her fiancé), themes of misogyny/sexism, and eddie being a dick <3

word count: 12.9k

| Daughters of Vampira setlist | Corroded Coffin setlist |

-story masterlist- | -main masterlist-

You were a musician. A rockstar. On your way to being one of the greats. Your band, Daughters of Vampira, was a small, feminist rock band out of Hawkins, Indiana. You created this band with your friends, Robin, Nancy, and Max, an outlet the four of you used to sing and write your little hearts out. You hit it big when you all moved to Los Angeles, playing at some lame bar when a producer walked up to you after the show, saying she wanted to see more, handing you a business card.

Then boom.

Everything was up from there. You got signed onto a record deal– played shows, signed autographs, walked carpets, and did interviews. Your wallet was a bottomless pit. En route to being wed, you got engaged to your production assistant turned bassist, and all was well— until about five minutes ago.

You came home from a day at the studio with your band, crafting a new song, playing with guitar riffs, and imagining lyrics. This track was going to be big; a song about your love for your fiance, a tale of how magnetic and beautiful every second was and will be.

You unlocked the door to your shared apartment, kicking off your sneakers, when you noticed a pair of red heels, which is weird because you hate heels. Maybe they were your friend Angie’s shoes; she knows where you hide your spare key and sometimes sneaks in when you’re not home. Furrowing a brow, you cautiously set your bag and keys down, looking around you for any more clues— her bag or her keys, anything. Your socked feet softly pad across your cold, wooden floors as you walk into the apartment's threshold, glancing into the kitchen. Nothing. You turned to the living room, unknowingly holding your breath—still nothing. Suspicion itches in your mind as you take in the space around you. You turn the corner to your bedroom and see the door left ajar.

You almost think nothing of it; you wouldn’t be mad at Angie taking a nap in your room; she’s your childhood best friend, but then you hear it— the two voices. The first voice is your fiance, Scott, and the second is an unknown woman.

They’re laughing. They’re whispering about something you can’t hear either because they’re either speaking too quietly or your sudden rage is filling out the space in your ears; you’re not sure which it is. You quickly glance back towards the door, eyeing the heels for the second time— your heart drops.

It was Angie. Those were her heels; you helped her pick them out, for fucks sake. You storm up to the door and swing it open without a second thought, and your eyes widen at the sight before you. You had so badly wished your mind was playing some sick trick on you, and you were just hearing things. You were wrong.

Your fiance and childhood best friend, Angie, are sprawled out in your white-sheeted bed, heads laid on your pillows tousled, under your roof— and both incredibly naked.

Despite the anger, your eyes quickly fill with tears, salty pools of resentment and betrayal threatening to spill over. Scott sees you in the doorway and scrambles out of bed, hastily grabbing a pair of boxers to pull over his bare hips. You can hear him sputtering out excuses, apologies, and reasons through the fog— so many words that sound like nothing but white noise to you.

He stumbles his way over to you, hands reaching out to grasp you and raising in surrender when you yank away from him. You can hardly think; a cloudy moment where you feel as if the floor has been wiped from below you and you’re free-falling in some shitty excuse of a dream.

“Sweetheart, please just listen–” He didn’t get to finish his sentence; the palm of your hand cracked down against his cheek to stop whatever bullshit excuse was coming. Angie shrieked, jumping out of bed, still with no clothes on, as she hurried to his side, an obvious two-against-one— that’s clarified when she shoots you a pointed look, fire building up in her eyes— and you can’t believe the audacity.

Scott looks back at you, cheek red with the sting of your rage as he points a finger at you, “Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” he scolds as if you were a child, warning you to leave the cookie jar alone. You scoff, your mouth falling agape as you laugh humorlessly. “Me? Touch her?” You point to the naked girl. Your neck heats in fury as you shake your head, “That is rich, Scott.”

You step back, eyeing both of them and ignoring the lump in your throat as you speak, “So, how long has this been going on?” They stare at you like they’re fucking clueless, and it ticks you off to no end, “In my own fucking bed? With my best friend?” Your tears are hot as they begin streaming down your cheeks, and the harsh swipe of your wrist to wipe them away stings, but you refuse to let them see you cry. Your mind is cluttered with questions, but they come out like bullets, firing round after round.

Angie takes to answering you, saying your name to halt your questions, “We– we’re in love, and… and he doesn’t..” She looks to Scott for guidance, her eyes pleading for him to help her. Your fingers shake in anger.

“I want to call the wedding off,” Scott says, looking you in the eyes while he and your best friend link fingers. They look fucking stupid, standing there naked and feigning unity– you almost want to laugh. You scoff again, folding your arms over your chest like that would hide your pain from them, despite the evident ghost of tears still clinging to your skin.

You glance around the room, around at the life you had planned for yourself, for him. Pictures of your engagement day, the closet you two shared, the fucking bed you shared, the life the two of you shared. More tears fall, and you don’t bother brushing them away this time. You nod, defeated. “Yeah, that’s– yeah, we can… we can do that.” You wipe at your tears, fingers shaking with agony as you swallow the words.

Your ex-fiance reaches out for your arm, and you back away, like he’s contagious– like his touch carries the heat of the sun. “Don’t touch me,” you snarled, watery gaze boring into his brown eyes.

“The wedding’s off, so… Take your shit and,” you look at your childhood best friend— your ex-childhood best friend, and your heart aches. This fucking hurts. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you dismissively wave your hand towards the clothes strewn across the floor, “And take her shit and get the fuck out.” You turn to leave but stop when Scott speaks, “I can’t just do that; I–” He stutters at the stab of your glare, “I need to call a truck so I can carry everything.”

You laugh, tilting your head, “Nah, don’t worry, I can help you with that.”

You pace to your apartment window, swinging it open and ignoring the confused voices behind you when you start picking up various items. Scott’s eyes widen as he watches you storm over to the window, a heap of his things in your arms. He scrambles to you, yelling as you toss his stuff out the window. He’s looking out the window, watching them fall, “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” You shriek after every item you throw: his computer, acoustic guitar, books on Logistics, and How To Save Money Like A Businessman.

You flutter about the room, shaking Angie off when she tries to grab you, ignoring her when she falls to the floor in a heap of naked limbs. You pick up a pricey statue that was Scott’s, ignoring his protests, courteously tossing it out the window to join his items.

You storm out of the room, glancing around for any of Scott’s stuff. Yes, this was your apartment, but you were working on sharing it— sharing it with him. Your fiance. Ex-fiance. You skirt out to the living room, the two lovebirds hot on your tail and begging you to stop. You walk over to the balcony doors, pushing them open and ignoring the sound of the doors cracking against the wall, some picture frames falling to the floor.

Pictures of you and him.

You pick them up and toss them over the balcony, looking around for any other fallen pieces. You thoroughly sweep your apartment— as thoroughly as you can through your tears of rage, gathering jackets, shirts, and shoes and carelessly tossing them over the balcony. You ignore them as they hastily put on their clothes, brushing past them to pace to the door.

Your gaze is hot and heavy on Angie’s heels. Those shiny, blood-red, smooth pumps. They oozed sex appeal and smirked at you, asking, daring, challenging you. Angie scrambles to you, yelling for you to put them down, yelling that they were Jimmy Choos, that they were expensive— like you would care.

You shrug her off as you walk back to the balcony, hanging them over the ledge and turning to gaze at her as she watches with tears brimming. Pathetic. You look into her eyes and drop them— one by one, “Fetch,” you whisper hoarsely.

Angie begins to cry, turning and running to Scott, who points an accusatory finger at you, “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You couldn’t just end things like a civilized human fucking being?” He exclaims, “You are fucking insane!” He grits out, holding Angie by the waist. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and you better have my shit,” he says scathingly.

When they both have an appropriate amount of clothes on— Angie settling for one of his oversized shirts and panties, him with sweats— Scott hastily searches for his keys. You watch them both, numb and unmoving, and it feels like your body is vibrating in a storm of emotions. Scott finds his keys and wallet, yanking Angie by the hand and hauling her out the door, but not before he shoots you a glare— a look that tells you it’s over. Completely done with no room for redemption— you don’t care either way.

The door slams shut, and silence fills the space. You stand there for what seems like eons, basking in the fizzling heat of your emotions before shuffling towards your bag near the door and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. You search for your lighter, growing irritated when it seems to be missing. You toss your bag to the floor with a curse and walk to the gas stove, turning the knob until a rim of flames arises. You slip the cigarette between your snot-slick lips, ducking your head towards the stove top and watching the cancerous stick catch fire.

You stand upright, inhaling and puffing out the smoke. You grab your flip phone, shuffling towards the balcony for fresh air while you make a call, but to your dismay, a crowd is gathered below your building, watching and taking pictures. At closer glance, you realize these people are none other than paparazzi— the very bane of your existence. They’re already recording; you can hear them chattering about what they suspect is happening, making up stories for the cameras and soon-to-come tabloids.

Then, to make matters worse, Scott and Angie skirt out from the building entrance and start picking some items up, the paparazzi asking various intruding questions. Scott has enough grace and respect for you to deny a comment, opting for catching a taxi with Angie instead. With a roll of your eyes, you walk back into your apartment and busy yourself doing a shitty job clearing the mess you’d made. However, like clockwork, your phone rings.

You know it’s Miss Sinclair; well, Erica, as she always corrects you. Your music manager, a firecracker, that one, but overall a good friend on your side.

You answer, taking a drag from the cigarette as you step onto your terrace again, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “What?” You ask snappily into the phone, glancing down at the crowd of people taking pictures of you. Assholes.

”What? What do you mean, what?” Erica hisses through the speaker. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tiger?” A nickname she has for you that originated from God knows where. “Yeah, like… what’s up?” You play dumb, smiling sarcastically and waving innocently to the cameras below you.

“Why the hell do I have people blowing my line asking me why you’re tossing shit onto the streets of Los Angeles like it’s a goddamn Goodwill?” She impatiently asks.

You shrug, even though she can’t see you, “Dunno. See you tomorrow at the studio.” You pull the phone away from your ear, hearing her shriek and yell at you, commanding you not to hang up. You slap the flip phone closed, ending the call; her words cut off. You take another drag of the cigarette before flicking the bud off the balcony at the intruders, watching them back away to glare at you, yelling a few curses. You flip them two middle fingers in response before turning to walk back into your apartment, closing the doors behind you.

You’re going to write a song. A kickass song.

“And then I threw all his shit out the fucking window,” you chuckle, retelling the story to your drinking companion, Robin Buckley, the drummer of your band. She smirks and downs another shot of vodka, “Yeah.. you uh,” she grimaces and smacks her lips at the bitter drink, “you created quite the stir earlier today,” She points at you and winks, picking up her forgotten glass of whiskey beside her and holding it out to you, in cheers.

You sigh and smile, and inevitably you clink your whiskey-filled glass against hers as she says, “To shitty men and new beginnings— preferably with women,” she winks again, laughing along with you as you lighten up from her joke. You down the rest of your drink and put your glass down, sucking your teeth before rolling your lips inward as you stare thoughtlessly, the whiskey leaving burning kisses in your throat.

The loud, underground celebrity-only bar drowns out behind you. What were you going to do? You had so much planned with Scott, an entire fucking wedding, a home, maybe even kids. And as if that’s not enough, you wrote an entire song about him. You were almost finished with it, so close to recording it and putting it out, maybe with tour dates to match.

Now it's gone. Dead and buried.

A whole song, written in 4 weeks, about your love, the love of your life, your supposed forever person, and he threw it all away. You knew love wasn’t easy. It never was, especially not after your rise to fame. It was hard to find time for date nights, for sex, for just seeing each other and talking. But you would’ve never imagined this to be how it ended.

You can’t help but feel as though this might have been your fault. Some small, pessimistic, mean part of you nagging that you could’ve prevented this if you had just changed. You tried to make time for Scott, you really did, but you got caught up in the music— the music for him. You worked tirelessly at it. For Scott to hear this song and immediately know it’s about him. You wanted it to be a wedding gift, maybe, to play it at your wedding for everyone to hear your love. You had never been so soft in a song, so open and disgustingly lovesick, and you wasted it all on him. Maybe it was your fault; perhaps it was for the better—

“Hey, you okay?” Robin cuts through your thoughts, “You went a little quiet there,” she smiles softly, playfully nudging her shoulder against yours. “Yeah,” you nod, “I-I’m good. Great.” You nod along with your words, trying fiercely to believe them.

You were not good, nor were you great. You were, to put it nicely, fucking wrecked. You were humiliated. How could anyone be okay after something like this? It was bad enough he cheated in the first place but with your best friend? You lost two of your closest people within the blink of an eye. It hurts more that they got each other while you got nothing but ghosts and memories. Scott was there for everything, your first real concert, the after-parties, the carpets. He was there for all of it. And he won’t be there anymore, and that hurts.

You shrug, laughing nervously and rubbing the bridge of your nose in distress, “I just can’t help but think that— that maybe this–” You motion your hands uselessly. Robin quickly interrupts you before you can finish your thought, “No. Do not go there. Are you insane? This,” she motions lazily over your figure, copying you, “was not your fault.” She shakes her head, sincerity laced within her voice and gaze. “Believe me when I say that— I would tell you if you were a crazy bitch, trust.” She smiles and nudges you again with her shoulder, pulling a laugh from you.

You sigh, rotating your neck to stretch it out, rolling your shoulders, “So, like, what’s up with you?” You ask to lighten the mood, leaning on the bar counter with your elbows. It works because she laughs and nods, looking down at the glasses of whiskey as the bartender wordlessly fills them back up. She traces her finger around the rim of it, still nodding, “I-I’ve been good, you know,” she glances at you and shyly looks away when you begin to smirk, “Just sorta.. Hangin’ out, I guess. Shootin’ the shit,” she shrugs, and you laugh. “Yeah, so when did you guys hook up?” You say over your glass rim innocently, laughing even harder when the girl turns red in the face and sputters over her drink.

“We did not hook up!” She exclaims, wiping the drink from her lips. “Me and Nance,” she shakes her head, “we just… We, like, hung out, you know?” She shrugged. You mockingly raise an eyebrow as she keeps talking, “And like smoked a bit and maybe drank and then like, there was a movie involved, and then she kissed me and—” You interrupt her rambling with a wave of your hand, “Alright, no more details. You totally hooked up,” you laugh, and she blushes harder, laughing and shaking her head, “Definitely did not.” she scoffs.

“You definitely did.” You challenge.

“Did not.” She shoots back.

“Did.”

She groans and shakes you, “If I pay for your tab, will you shut up?” she offers. You pretend to think dramatically for a moment before giving in and nodding, laughing when she slams a one hundred dollar bill on the counter and gets up, picking her leather jacket from behind her chair. “God, you are so annoying,” she complains, shucking her coat over her Daughters of Vampira band t-shirt.

You get up, shrugging your leather jacket on and snickering, “Nah, you love me,” you teasingly say, shoving at her shoulder. She smirks and shakes her head, heading for the exit, “Yeah, you wish,” She pushes the door open and steps outside into the chilly Los Angeles night, immediately shoving her hands into her pockets.

You opt for taking the damaged, smashed pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and pulling a matching lighter out. The lighter has a siren with long, blonde locks and a green, shimmery mermaid tail. You pull out a cigarette and stick it between your lips, igniting the flame and holding it up to the end of the cigarette. You bask in the warmth emanating from the flame, a soft heat kissing your nose. You pull the lighter away and puff, blowing the tobacco back out.

“Man, all I wanted was a peaceful drink, and I got verbally berated instead,” Robin jokes. You laugh, blowing smoke in her face before stopping, looking ahead. You freeze, and not because of the air; the cogs in your brain start moving, fired up with the fuel of alcohol and the lightheaded buzz of nicotine. You still your movements, looking at your friend, “What did you say?” you ask slowly, pulling your gaze from the busy car-filled street.

Her face heats up, eyes widening and hands flying from her pockets to raise in defense, “No, I mean, like— I was kidding. I wasn’t being serious—” you interrupt her by waving your hand hastily that was holding a cigarette, before looking at it and tossing it carelessly to the side. You aimlessly shake your hands at her, “No, what did you just say?” You stare into her eyes, watching as she tries to connect the dots.

She raises her eyebrows in confusion, shrugging before saying slowly, “All I wanted—” You stop her, snapping and pointing, walking away and walking back, obviously pacing. “Yes! Yes— that. It’s perfect.” You stop pacing for a second, standing with your hands on your hips. Robin laughs nervously, fiddling with her zipper jacket, “Uh, what is happening right now? Am I in trouble?” she jokes anxiously, but you ignore her.

You were thinking. Thinking hard.

All I wanted. All you wanted? All I wanted.

You repeat it to her, mumbling the words, gaze still focused on the ground, “All I wanted.” You say, pulling your eyes back up to hers. “Uh.. yeah– All I wanted…was a drink,” she parrots back, nodding dumbly, placating you like a small child doing a math equation.

You smile mischievously, “Robin, you’re a fucking genius!” You all but shriek, earning some glances from the sidewalk. You pay no attention to them, but Robin does, grabbing your shoulder and pushing you into a walk, looking around her to not draw attention to the both of you, but it’s difficult when you’re wildly smiling and humming out a guitar tempo.

“Dude, what are you talking about?” She stresses, “Please tell me what’s happening; I have no idea what is socially acceptable to say right now,” she explains nervously, hand moving to grasp at your elbow, keeping you in motion. “Robin, we have to go to the studio right now,” you beg, looking her in her eyes, your gaze shining in inspiration. “What? No, what? Why?” She steps in front of you and halts your walking, “What is happening?” she pleads, leaning forward and pressing her palms together in a praying motion— silently asking you to please elaborate. You move past her, still walking, still thinking.

Robin jogs to catch up to you, “Tell me what you’re thinking, please,” she begs. You look at her and smirk, “I have an idea for a song,” you conclude. Upon hearing this, Robin smiles like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“Hit me, Tiger.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh when his friend tells him what happened. He pauses for a moment, staring at Scott and waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he never does, and Eddie nearly dies of laughter, the rest of the band along with him.

“Holy shit,” Eddie gasps between laughter. Gareth snorts, raising his eyebrow in shock as he speaks, “She threw your shit out the window?”

Scott rolls his eyes, flipping the brown-haired boy off, sipping his beer, and leaning back into the red leather couch. Eddie shakes his head as he swivels around in his chair to mess with the studio soundboard, “That’s what you get when you fuck crazy bitches, man,” Eddie laughs, glancing up to watch Jeff mess around with chords in the sound booth. He listens as he speaks, “I mean, sure, she was hot,” He shrugs, reaching over for his box of cigarettes, “Insane tits or whatever, but at what cost?” He snorts.

Scott shrugs, downing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle into the small trash bin near the soundboard.

“I mean, the sex was definitely good, but she just— I dunno, man,” he shakes his head and dismissively waves his hand, “She’s too much of a firecracker. Angie is way more docile,” he concludes. He snickers as he thinks it over, “Easier to deal with,” he smirks, reaching down to the floor to pick up another beer. Gareth snickers and Eddie grimaces with a shake of his head; he then smirks as he slides a cigarette between his lips, “Nah, the firecrackers are the fun ones, man.” he speaks around the paper as he lights the cancerous stick, sucking and blowing out the smoke. “So, what now?” Gareth asks, taking a swig of his drink as he looks at Scott.

Scott shrugs, opening the glass bottle of beer and sipping it, “Yeah, y’know… no wedding, I’m with Angie, whatever,” he says, and Eddie chuckles, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, “Yeah, I get it,” he nods, taking another drag off his cigarette, lost in his thoughts. You’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good… A lightbulb goes off in his head.

“Wait, guys,” he swivels around in his chair to face Gareth and Scott. The two boys look up at him as Eddie speaks, “We’ve all had crazy girlfriends, right?” His gaze bounces between the boys as he puffs on the cigarette before standing up and pushing the bud of it into Gareth’s bottle, much to his dismay. He ignores Gareth’s complaints, ignoring the boys laughing at him, pacing the room, mind swirling to the sound of Jeff’s guitar.

Through the fog of chords and lyrics, Eddie continues speaking, “All of our ex-girlfriends— and ex-fiances,” he blindly points to Scott as he paces, ignoring when Scott scoffs, “are crazy bitches,” he points out, looking back at the group. “I mean, I can’t remember the last time I had a normal fucking girlfriend,” he snickers. The boys look at Eddie as if they’re concerned, confusion written across their faces that Eddie could care less to ease, “This is fucking inspiration, boys! Let’s write this shit down,” He leans on the soundboard, “Let’s expose this chick,” He snickers.

He walks into the sound booth and grabs his guitar from the stand, pulling the strap over his neck as he nods toward Jeff, “Keep playing that,” he orders. Despite his masked confusion, Jeff continues to play the riff he’d been tweaking. Eddie steps up to the mic in the middle of the sound booth, reaching for the headphones to slip them over his head, leaving one ear uncovered. He gestures to Gareth through the glass, motioning for him to tag along.

Gareth puts his beer down and walks in, glancing at Eddie in confusion, “You gonna tell us what we’re playing or?” He sits behind his drums as Eddie tweaks the strings on his guitar. “Just follow along, man.” Eddie distractedly mumbles. Gareth and Jeff glance at one another— Eddie often has moments like this, and they have yet to get used to it. Gareth shrugs, picking up his deeply mangled drumsticks and tapping a beat to Jeff’s strings.

Eddie mumbles to himself, fingers ghosting chords over the frets as he nods his head to the beat. He picks up with Gareth and Jeff’s sound, shredding along to create a fuller sound, the images of the music he’d composed in his mind coming to life just below his fingertips. Scott watches from outside the sound booth, standing up to lean over the soundboard. He watches, intrigued, as they play together, wordlessly tweaking until they all compliment each other. Scott reaches over with a smirk and hits the record button just in time for Eddie to chime in on the mic, finally spitting out the lyrics they’d all be waiting to hear.

And it’s fucking good.

“Alllriiight!”

It’s raunchy, unhinged, and all things dirty. On top of that, it’s a massive fuck you to Scott’s ex, and Scott can’t keep the grin off his face as he adds the bass to the track, snickering at the words Eddie sings. They work on the song all day, throwing in new verses and tweaks until they feel satisfied for the time being. They sit outside the sound booth and nurse a round of beers as they play the song, listening to what they have so far, grinning and nodding along to the beat, laughing at the absurdity of the lyrics.

“Hey, you’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good, I’m on top of it.”

“It’s good… as much as I hate to say it, it’s good.” Scott laughs, rolling his eyes when the boys cheer. Sitting on the swivel chair in front of the soundboard, Eddie reaches out and nudges Scott's foot with his own, “You might get a few slashed tires when she hears this, you know.” He snickers over the rim of his beer bottle.

Scott laughs and shrugs, “Can’t be any worse than what she’s already done.” He jokes. The boys all laugh, watching Jeff as he raises his beer in the gesture of a toast, “To crazy bitches.” The boys all raise their beers in unity, parroting back, “To crazy bitches!” They clink their drinks and laugh, taking sips.

“You’re crazy, but I like the way you fuck me.”

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream,”

Your voice filters through the speakers, thick studio headphones skewed on your head as you fiddle with the soundboard knobs and buttons. You sigh and push the headphones to rest around your neck, rubbing your hands tiredly over your face. You take a glance at the clock— 4:34 AM. Goddamn. You had truly been here all night. After your night out with Robin, drinking your feelings away, and your quick epiphany moment, you guys caught a taxi straight here and got to business. That was at 10:46 PM.

Poor Robin, you put the girl through the wringer. Making her drum out new beats, forcing her to pluck out a bass riff to the best of her abilities. The rest of your band was, without a doubt, asleep, and you didn’t want to bother them with your antics. And, of course, you all were close, but it was just different with you and Robin. You guys could be together for hours and never tire of one another. You just clicked.

Maybe it was also the fact that you didn’t want to face whatever awkward encounter was bound to happen between Robin and Nancy, opting to wait until the morning to see them face one another. Robin was fully asleep underneath the sound booth, using both of your jackets as a pillow. Her fingers are wrapped around the beer she’d been drinking; hand cuddled up to her face. You pull out your cigarettes from your pocket, pulling one stick out and sliding it between your lips. You light it up and puff on the cigarette, glancing at Robin beneath the table before reaching down and carefully snagging her beer. You take a quick swig, quietly listening to the song.

“All I wanted was you,

All I wanted was you.”

The guitar that comes in right after is powerful. It’s beautiful; it showcases your anger, your betrayal, your heart that still aches. This was supposed to be a love song for Scott, but after tweaking a few lyrics, it quickly became a song laced with hatred and resentment— a piece of heartbreak and anguish you’re still clearly sorting through. But that’s all that love is, right? Just two people fighting and slashing at each other until one inevitably gives in and waves a white flag?

You down the rest of your stolen beer, still taking drags of the cigarette and blowing it back out. It wasn’t unusual for you to be the only one here at ungodly hours of the night, but it was one of the first times you were here with your friend and bandmate. Knowing she was here for you after such a chaotic, hectic day, supporting you even at unreasonable hours, was nice.

You replay the lyrics repeatedly, playing with the weak bass Robin was barely able to play. You should go home; you know you should, given how late it is and the dryness that begins to seep through your eyes, but you hate the feeling that runs through your bones when you think about what used to be your and Scott’s home. You don’t want to go home. Home is where everything ended. Home is no longer home— not after what happened. Home is where you’ll go to relieve the day over and over again until you get tired enough to pass out.

And then it hits you; lyrics, more heartache hits you. The song was initially titled The Only Exception, but the words changed after playing around for several hours. You stuff the cigarette bud in the beer bottle, letting it fizzle out as you get up from your swivel chair to try and find a notebook— a notepad, napkins, or something, but you only find a pen. Frustrated with your lack of writing materials, you look at your surroundings hungrily before your eyes land on Robin’s bare arm.

You pace back to the soundboard and reach underneath to yank on Robin’s arm, waking her up for a split second. You ignore Robin’s grumbly and slurred “What the fuck?” and proceed with your task as she inevitably falls back asleep. You yank the pen cap off with your teeth and begin jotting down lyrics on Robin’s pale, freckled, tattooed arm.

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch.

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott and your favorite thing to do was watch old 1950s classic films. You guys watched them so much, watched so many of them, over and over again, that you could quote them to one another. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you write these lyrics down, some falling on Robin’s arm and smudging the ink. You curse and press your palm to the running ink to dry whatever can be salvaged from your sloppy work. You drop her arm to the ground and hear her briefly groan as you pace back into the sound booth, picking up your black guitar from the stand and pulling the strap over your upper body.

You move your headphones around your neck to sit over your ears, waiting for your next move. You start strumming out a guitar riff, basking in the glory of the echoing sounds and its full, tough ring. You push your lips to the microphone and begin mumbling, playing with more lyrics in your head before you sing.

“I could follow you to the beginning,

Just to relive the start.

And maybe then, we’d remember to slow down.

At all of our favorite parts.”

The tears are freefalling now; the dark eyeliner you’d spent the past hours smudging leaves roads of sorrow against your skin. You and Scott were together for seven magical months. Yeah, it was quick— pathetic in a different light, but you’d been mindlessly in love. And fuck, would it have been a mistake if you did end up marrying him. He was a production assistant and a bassist with no new lines of work coming, opting to freeload off his friend’s band, Corroded Coffin, playing with them at shows whenever they needed him.

And it’s working for him so far— until it doesn’t. As much as you hate to admit, Scott is talented. He’s good with his instrument and has a good ear for sound, but despite his talent, he has no real drive— no actual want to succeed and be at the top of the music pyramid with you. As you continue to play with the guitar, you stop for a second to wipe your eyes, thoroughly smudging your makeup now and probably making you look insane.

Scott had good moments, though. When it was good, it was good— spontaneous nights out, making out in alleyways like lovesick teenagers, and every second feeling like a movie until the credits rolled— but when it was bad, it was really fucking bad. Fights, stupid arguments, bickering, breaking expensive items, and threatening to leave each other until he makes it up to you with mediocre sex and breakfast in bed the next day. You loved him, you did, and you believe he loved you too, but you just can’t pinpoint where it all went wrong.

You stop strumming the guitar and huff waterily, setting the guitar back on the stand and ripping your headphones off your head before tossing them to the ground. You sit on a metal, foldable chair beside you and lean forward to push your head into your hands.

You really blew the fuck up on him. Did you overreact? Did you honestly act like a crazy bitch? Fuck, maybe you should apologize.

You can hear Robin in the back of your head, nagging and begging you to stop thinking self-destructive thoughts like this, telling you you’re insane for even thinking of apologizing, but you just can’t help it. You venture down the deep, dark, but welcoming rabbit hole of psycho-analyzing every romantic relationship you’ve ever had. None of your relationships have lasted— the ones in high school, obviously, but you’ve been out of that shit hole for years now, yet you’re still playing the never-ending game of kiss and tell.

Life in Hawkins was a weird, dull one. All the boys you brought home never shared the same interests as you and certainly did not like that you had a mind of your own. They didn’t like the clothes you wore, or the makeup you did, or the music you listened to. They thought you and the rest of the band were stupid and wasting your lives trying to be something big with the weird sound you carried. Nothing about you or the people you hung out with fit the cookie-cutter shape of Hawkins, and you learned that the hard way.

You were more of a dirty secret for boys in your school. Nobody wanted to express their love or attraction to you openly, but they sure as hell did so behind closed doors. Your first boyfriend, Brady, was a star on the wrestling team; he didn’t mind showing you off much because nobody had the guts to talk shit about him— too scared to get sucker punched. Brady lasted a few months before you eventually cut ties with each other.

There were a few others after Brady, all meeting the same dead end you’re so familiar with. Although there was one guy— Eddie Munson— people believed you would be perfect for each other. You liked the same music, dressed relatively the same, and had shitty high school bands nobody wanted to listen to. Logistically, it was a perfect match; the only problem was Eddie Munson is an asshole.

Scum of the earth, piece of shit, grade-A asshole.

Scott was friends with him, and on occasion, you would sometimes cross paths at parties or hangouts with mutual friends; and every single run-in you’ve had with the man left you with a splitting migraine and an itching impulse to smash his head through a window. He’s awful; he doesn’t respect you or any woman for that matter, he acts like he’s a living god, and he and his shitty band won (stole) that fucking music contest in Hawkins back in ‘87, and you’ll never forget it. That’s how you met him, and your guys’ race to the top hasn’t let up since.

And now that you think of it, it’s not surprising that Eddie and Scott get along so well— they’re both sexist assholes.

You’re milling in your thoughts for what seems like hours, tears dried and itching against your skin. You’re not sure how long you sit in the sound booth, but before you know it, Robin’s hoarse voice is cracking through the speakers of the sound booth, “As much as I think you’re a musical genius and love the way you work in mysterious ways, it’s extremely late, and we both need to catch some sleep before tomorrow.”

Your face twists in confusion, “Tomorrow? What’s special about tomorrow?” You ask, your voice cracking. Robin shifts on her feet, brows furrowing at your confusion, “We’re meeting with the record label. Remember we’re playing them our new album?”

Fuck. You completely forgot about that, and all of those songs, except for maybe three, are based around your stupid ex-fiance that just dumped you for your best friend. You sigh, dropping your head in your hands and running your palms over your face. You let out a long groan into your hands, not even hearing Robin opening the door to the sound booth and walking up to you. Her chilled fingers wrap around your wrists to pull your hands away from your face. Her blue eyes are tired and full of love and warmth as she squats before you to gaze at you, “Talk to me.”

Tears brim your eyes at her soft voice, and you wince— you really wish you could stop fucking crying. You rub at your teary eyes and shake your head, “It’s just—” you sigh and blearily blink down at Robin, “they’re all about him, Rob.” You frown.

Robin patiently waits for you to find the words, comfortingly squeezing your tear-dampened fingers. “Every song on the album is about him and I… I really don’t wanna spend an entire tour singing about him.” You softly speak, avoiding her gaze.

The brown-haired girl shuffles closer to you, ducking into your gaze and shrugging, “That’s okay,” she shakes her head, “We can scrap it. I mean, the label might be a little pissed, but just… play them what we did tonight, and I guarantee you they’ll extend our time.”

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “What? No. Robin, the song’s not finished—” “We don’t get another chance with this, Tiger. We either play them what we did tonight or give them the album.”

And you know Robin is right; she does not want to give you an ultimatum, but it’s the inevitable truth. You can either play the song and hope it’s the best thing the label has ever heard, or you suck it up and play them the album full of bittersweet words that leave a sticky residue clogging your throat.

You look at Robin, her patient and tired gaze locked on your face. You chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking it over for a moment— and it could work. The new song you’d just recorded is insane— nothing you’ve ever done before and, without a doubt, has a groundbreaking sound. It could work.

Max and Nancy are going to kill you tomorrow.

You nod your head, “Okay,” you breathe. Robin’s lips slowly stretch into a smile, “I’m gonna play it for them.” You nod. Robin shoots up to her feet with a cheer.

“Perfect! Now wipe those tears, and let's get the fuck out of here.”

You and Robin look like hell. You’re sporting heavy undereye bags with dark circles, while Robin opted to cover her evident lack of sleep with a pair of dark shades. Nancy and Max look concerned when they see you both sitting in the lobby of your label’s building. Nancy, of course, chastised you for your lateness while Max just snickered in the corner. Max suddenly makes a face as she speaks, “Why do you guys look like you’ve been hit by a bus?”

Robin tiredly groans, shifting in her seat with a yawn, “Stayed at the studio late.” She mumbles. Nancy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Why? I thought we had everything ready for today.” She points out, obviously concerned. Nothing would ever get done if you didn’t have Nancy in the band. Now that you look at her, she has a manila folder in her hands, most likely stuffed with questions, comments, concerns, budgets, and more. She was more like Erica’s assistant than your bass player. But fuck, could her skilled fingers pluck out a riff.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, glancing over at Robin, who seems to be now passed out behind her glasses, offering you no help. You scoff. Of course. You mentally punch Robin in the face. You fidget with the rings on your fingers as you begin to explain. “So, basically,” you start, “I came home yesterday and found Scott and Angie fucking in my bed, so I threw their shit out the window and then called Robin,” you barely pay attention to Nancy and Max’s widening eyes as you spew out the events of yesterday. You knew they already knew, probably from Erica or the fucking tabloids. Hell, the whole fucking world knew, but they acted like this was their first time hearing about it.

You ramble on about the events, telling them about you finding inspiration and dragging Robin to the studio, drunk, only to decide to scrap the album you’d all been working on for the past few months.

That last bit of information didn’t go so well, however.

“You what?”

You wince at Max’s sneering tone, glancing at Nancy to try and get a read on her expressionless face. “Please tell me you’re joking,” Max says, voice teetering on the precipice of panic. You wish Robin would wake the fuck up. “I… I know I’m really taking a leap of faith here, but I need you guys to trust me on this,” you plead, gaze hopefully bouncing between the two women, “Please.”

Max folds her arms across her chest, tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek before she shakes her head, “I swear if this fucks us over, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” She breaks, and you’re just thankful she agrees to follow your and Robin’s plan. She turns around and walks over to plop into the seat on the other side of the lobby, glancing at you before speaking, “Sorry about Scott, by the way…” she mumbles. “Maybe it’s a good thing; I never liked all those love songs anyways…” She smiles apologetically, and you huff out a chuckle.

Nancy nudges her foot against your leather boot, “You were out of his league anyway. He was dumber than a rock.” She adds to Max’s apology. You snicker and thank them for their condolences. Nancy sits on the chair next to Max and sighs heavily, “Did you tell Erica about the change?” she asks, already flipping through her folder. You pretended you didn’t hear the question, which was not a good idea.

The two girls begin to panic at your eerie silence. Nancy’s face falls, and Robin fucking snores, “You did tell Erica, right?” She presses. Your silence says enough.

Max groans, leaning forward to sink her head into the palm of her hands, “We’re so fucked.”

And when the time comes, you’re not exactly sure what the label is thinking. All the board members wear the same unwavering expression as they listen to All I Wanted. You glance at Nancy and Max, who are both visibly shaken with nerves; Max’s leg bouncing at an ungodly rate beneath the table, and Nancy’s poor fingers picked to shreds. Robin, who’s now awake, is busying herself with doodling random sketches on the napkin in front of her, and you’re— well, you’re hardly breathing.

Erica looks thoroughly pissed; you don’t doubt she’d thought about strangling you the second you announced you were scraping the album. You could tell she was itching to make some phone calls as her stone-hard gaze stayed on you throughout the whole listening session. You pretended you didn’t notice her.

When the demo ends, a thick silence settles over the room, and you lean forward, pressing pause on the track to prevent the CD from repeating. You awkwardly scratch the side of your neck, “I-It’s not done; I’m still working on it, but um—” You glance at the table of faces and gulp. You haven’t been this nervous in longer than you can remember. “I know it can be something. Something big.”

James, the CEO of the record label, clears his throat and leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the thick wooden table. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he points to the middle of the table where the CD player sits, “This is about Scott, yes?”

All eyes are on you, and you have no choice but to nod yes. James takes a drag of his cigarette, eyebrows furrowing as he silently thinks. You glance at your friends, a wave of nerves washing through your body at the anticipation. “What happened yesterday can never happen again. You almost ruined your image. Almost.” He finally speaks, his stern gaze locked in on you. You almost want to shrink in your seat, feeling like a child being scolded in the principal's office as he continues to speak. “You're a good talent, but if you don't know how to act like a grown woman, you won’t have a place here.”

You scoff and open your mouth, a smart response on the tip of your tongue, until Robin harshly kicks the heel of her leather boot into your ankle. You hiss in pain, sucking on your teeth to poorly conceal it. You relent and nod your head, “I understand.”

James nods and flicks the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, “Now,” his lips split into a smug grin, a grin that tells you that you won, “Get this track finished by the end of the week. I want it on air by Monday morning.”

Monday morning, Eddie is hauling ass down I-405, without a doubt breaking many traffic laws he could care less about, given he’s late to his studio session with the band. When is he not late? He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and the smell of last night's alcohol on his clothes. As he meticulously swerves and weaves in and out of LA traffic, he jams his finger to turn his radio on, flipping through static, noise, ads, shitty pop music, and landing on a seemingly decent Rock station.

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puffs the rest before tossing it out of the open window. His hair tousles from the wind, and he bats the curly strands away whenever they fly into his view. His ringed fingers grip the steering wheel, swerving out of the way of a truck before honking and throwing up a middle finger. What he misses during that exchange is the introduction of the song.

“Next up is a new hit single named All I Wanted by Daughters of Vampira! Daughters of Vampira will be going on tour soon; stay tuned for details!”

Then, the music starts when he finally starts to slow down after narrowly missing the truck.

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream.”

Your voice filters through his car stereo, unbeknownst to Eddie, and he glances down at his music console. He slowly turns the volume dial up, intrigued by the sound and wanting to know where it’s leading. When the ferocious guitar shred comes in, his face twists in approval, turning the volume even louder as he bobs his head to the tune. Whoever’s band this was, is fucking good. It’s not every day you hear a good Rock song sung by a woman, he thinks.

“All I wanted was you, oh,

All I wanted was you, oh!”

Eddie’s not sure why it takes him so long to realize the voice playing through his speakers is none other than the lead singer of that stupid fucking feminazi band Daughters of Vampira. He nearly chokes when he realizes it’s your voice, turning the volume up to max and listening to the words.

It’s… sad. The lyrics are like the gut-wrenching heartbreak you see in movies, aching and drenched with the grief of a love that was supposed to be great. And your voice is so fucking raw, so angry, and filled with pain that it brings Eddie to a stand-still, the skin on his arms raising in tiny bumps at the sheer emotion. Eddie almost forgets he’s in his car until he hears the car behind him honking, the man behind the wheel yelling at him to go now that the traffic light has turned green. He doesn’t move an inch, afraid he’ll miss a beat of this slice of heartache.

The song ends, and Eddie turns off his radio, choosing to spend the rest of his ride in silence as the gnawing feeling of guilt settles in his gut. By the sound of it, Scott really did a fucking number on you— tore your heart out, chewed it up, spit it out, and stepped on it like a spider on a sidewalk— and Eddie knows what that feels like; he’s had his heart broken before so he knows what it feels like to be so angry at the love you had for a person. It’s a shitty feeling.

So, Eddie’s not sure why he decides to be an asshole and tell the boys about your new song, but he does. The second he enters the studio, he tells Gareth to turn on the radio.

“...Why?” Gareth questions with a tone of suspicion. Eddie brushes his question off and walks to lean over the desk, turning the radio on and beginning to switch through the stations. “Uh, Eddie… we’ve got some work to do, man, we don’t have time for—” “Shh, just give me a second,” Eddie snaps.

“It’s gotta be playing somewhere.” Eddie mumbles, eyebrows furrowed, ringed finger going overtime on the dial, abruptly stopping when he finally hears it. “This is it! This is it; just listen.” Eddie turns the volume up and stands up to his full height, hands on his hips, and chews on his lip as they silently listen to the song.

Jeff is the first to speak through the sound of drums and intense chords, “Why are we listening to this?” Eddie waves him off, telling him just to wait— just wait until the verse.

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch.

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott’s eyes widen, striding over to Eddie’s side and gazing at the boombox in shock, “No fuckin’ way.” He breathes. Eddie looks at Scott as he reaches over to increase the volume. Gareth twirls his drumstick between his knuckles and deeply sighs as he leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto the soundboard, “Dude, no offense, but why are we listening to this shit?” He asks. Scott turns to the boys and points back to the radio, “That’s my fucking bitch ex singing about me.”

Jeff and Gareth’s eyes widen, both boys leaning forward in their seats to listen to the lyrics. Scott curses and reaches over to shut the radio off, letting a thick silence fall over the room. Jeff is the first to break and nervously laugh, and Eddie grins, Gareth falling into a fit of laughter behind Jeff’s. “Why the fuck are you guys laughing?” Scott sneers.

Eddie chuckles, reaching out to rest his hands on Scott’s shoulders and turn him to face each other, “You don’t get it, man,” Eddie begins. Scott’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and Eddie smiles mischievously, “This is the perfect time to drop Crazy Bitch.”

You nearly blow a gasket when you first hear Corroded Coffin’s new song. Nancy did quite a good job of bringing you down to somewhat of a levelheaded state and getting you to understand that killing Scott or slashing his tires wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions to make. You still aren’t convinced.

You try your best to ignore the song, switching the radio to a different station whenever it plays, but it seems like that fucking track follows you wherever you go. A week after the song's release, you’re walking down the street with Robin, browsing the stores that catch your eye and chatting about whatever comes to mind.

You hardly notice the crowd gathered outside the store you are in until Robin points it out, nudging your side and nodding towards the window, “Looks like we’ve got company today.” she mumbles. You curse, shelving the shirt you’d been looking at as you grumble to Robin, “Seriously, how the fuck did they find us?”

You suppose the rest of your day out won’t last much longer, so you and Robin decide to make your way home, stepping out into the crowd and shoving through a sea of flashing bulbs.

Over time, you’ve mustered up the strength to ignore the questions paparazzi throw at you; questions about who you’re dating, your sexuality, your political beliefs— questions of generally no substance or anything to do with your music. You’ve become numb to the reality of your life being plastered on tabloids and riddled with lies; it doesn’t really hurt you anymore.

However, you’re still a human being, and you have moments where you crack, and today seems to be one of those moments when a man yells out, “You were seen dumping your ex-fiance Scott's items into the street! So is the song true? Did you and Eddie Munson have an affair? Is that why you and Scott broke up?”

Robin tenses, glancing at you and silently pleading for you to just keep walking. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

You glare but smile at the man, flashing your white, shark-like teeth, “If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you ask Scott and Angie yourself?” You sneer.

A few of the men snicker, one whistling and commenting about you being feisty, but you ignore it and continue as you and Robin finally reach your car, “And for the record, I wouldn’t touch that asshole with a ten-inch pole. His dick is small.” You grin sarcastically, opening your car door and getting in without another word. You hear the crowd erupt in more questions outside your car, some scribbling stuff down on their notepads and some laughing.

You groan in annoyance, buckling yourself in and starting the car as Robin settles in the passenger seat. You don’t miss the chance to flip the mob of men off when you drive off, leaving them behind with screeching tires. It’s silent until Robin chuckles, and you glance at her, “What’s so funny?”

Robin shrugs and shakes her head, “Nothing,” she says, “Just that Erica’s gonna murder you.” You roll your eyes and slide a pair of shades on. “When is she not wanting to murder me?”

The media erupted after your comment about womanizer and rockstar Eddie Munson. Many fans came to your aid, voicing the truth of the breakup and defending you and your band. In contrast, many other fans— Corroded Coffin’s cult of assholes— came to Eddie’s defense, stating that he was only doing charity work to get your name in the papers. That you were fucking your way to the top of the music industry and much, much more deeply misogynistic statements.

You didn’t care for any of it. You, your friends, your family, and your band knew what actually happened. The best part is that Scott knew the truth, and he was a shit fucking liar. He couldn’t cover up what happened if his life depended on it. It made you think of how he could lie about the affair for as long as he did. You don’t dwell on that thought for too long, growing tired of digging deeper into the pit of despair Scott had so happily tossed you into.

At the end of the day, your image is in shambles, and if your image is fucked, then so is the bands. Daughters of Vampira wasn’t booking anything; shows, meet-and-greets, autograph signings— nothing. Even though All I Wanted was an enormous hit and ended up in the charts, people couldn’t get over the fact that you, the lead singer, tend to be explosive. You would’ve felt bad about this if Eddie’s image hadn’t suffered the same fate.

Eddie and his band immediately stopped booking shows after their song Crazy Bitch. Of course, it was a big success, but only because the drama fueled it. Young women stopped throwing themselves at the band and instead opted for screaming, “Woman haters!” and “Sexist pigs!” at them whenever they were out. It had been fucking rough, and it only got worse after Eddie commented to the paparazzi while he was out on a coffee run in the streets of Los Angeles.

“How the fuck do they always find me?” Eddie grumbles to himself, putting on a fake smile for the group.

Eddie was rocking a pair of shades, thinking of ways to quickly escape the mob, when a young boy approached him from the crowd. He had a Corroded Coffin shirt on with a photograph of Eddie clenched to his chest as he kindly asked for an autograph.

“Sure, kid,” Eddie crouches down to the boy’s height and gently takes the photograph and Sharpie, "who am I signing it for?” He smiles softly at the boy, “For Thomas, sir!” The boy politely says, his eyes shining in excitement. “Thomas, sick name, man.” Eddie compliments, yanking the cap off with his teeth. He signs his name with a Let’s fuckin’ ROCK! in the corner, putting the lid back and handing the photo back to the boy.

He smiles when the boy squeals in excitement and offers him a fist bump before standing up to his full height. “Thank you, Mr. Munson!” Eddie snickers and nods, “‘Course, but hey, don’t call me Munson; call me Ed,” He smirks, and the kid laughs. “Mr. Muns– Ed, I have a question for you,” the kid shyly asks.

Eddie’s heart implodes at the cuteness of this little shithead and chuckles as he responds, “Shoot, kid, I’m all ears,” Eddie ignores the flashes from the cameras, taking photos of this pure and innocent moment. He ignores the coos from the women, from the kid’s parents, all of it, just zoned in on this small child meeting his hero. Him.

“Ed, is it true that you hate girls?”

And just like that, the moment is over.

Eddie turns red in the face and forces a harsh but nervous laugh. The crowd closes in upon hearing the exchange and begins asking a multitude of questions. The parents snag their son away and start expressing profuse apologies that Eddie waves off. “Nah, nah, the kid’s fine. But uh, to answer your question, no, that isn’t true, Tommy boy,” he says, looking at the child standing beside his mother’s legs. He takes out a pack of smokes and opens it, sliding a cigarette between his lips as he adds, “I am a really big fan of girls,” he flashes a dazzling smile around the stick and does finger guns at the small kid before he turns and begins to walk away.

He’s forgotten all about his coffee, and now all he wants is to get the fuck outta there.

He lights the cigarette up and ignores the crowd of paparazzi following him, cameras still in motion. He rolls his eyes, body buzzing in annoyance from the kid's question and the crowd. He continues walking the street as more questions and fans approach him. As Eddie signs a woman’s photograph, a cigarette hanging from his lips, an interviewer comments with a camera already zoned in and recording Eddie’s face. No doubt this will be on MTV tonight. No doubt he won’t hear the end of it from Dustin and Steve.

“Eddie, did you hear what the frontwoman of Daughters of Vampira has said about you? Can we get a response?” He shoves the mic into Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s lips break into a grin, but he doesn’t look up from the autograph he’s signing. “Yeah… yeah, I heard, and y’know what? She can come find out herself if it’s small or not,” He looks up and smirks right at the camera, “Have a nice day.” He smiles tightly at the interviewer and hastily flags down a taxi, hopping in and yelling at the driver to step on it. He watches as the crowd grows smaller and smaller with distance, his heart thundering in his chest. He takes deep breaths to slow his pulse down, to stop thinking of you.

It never seems to slow as his mind can’t move on from you or that damn song.

Both the managers of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira are pushed to the limit with you and Eddie. Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington are co-managers of Corroded Coffin, mainly because Steve has the money and Dustin has the brains to man the operation. All Steve really does is cut the checks and warn the team when to cut back on the extracurriculars.

Erica, Steve, and Dustin are all from Hawkins and are quite familiar with each other due to living in a small town where everyone knows everybody. They, along with all members of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira, all sort of grew up with one another in the 80s and have always been on this whimsical journey together. As the years went by, you all drifted, more so because of the competition, but aside from the band, the managers stayed relatively civil with one another. Erica, Steve, and Dustin stayed in touch because sometimes they couldn’t handle the two bands, which is why Erica summoned the two boys to a bar in downtown LA.

Erica Sinclair is seemingly always tested by you and has no idea where to go or what her next move should be. She has times when she feels like a single mother dealing with an angsty teen, and when those moments teeter on disastrous, she makes calls— the call.

“I mean, I have just had it up to here,” Erica moves her hand up in the air to emphasize her annoyance, “with these girls, I mean, my god!” She shakes her head as she sips her red wine, the two boys nodding from across from her. “Trust me,” Steve scoffs, “we get it.”

Dustin nods, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple and smacking his lips before adding, “We’re in the same boat too— with Eddie,” Dustin starts, drinking his Shirley Temple out of a bendy straw.

“Yeah, he’s always been a pain in the ass, ever since high school,” Steve continues, sharing a look with Dustin, who tiredly nods, “But it has never been this bad. Normally we can get a hold on him running his mouth, but it’s just been…” Steve falters and trails off, struggling to grasp the words to explain Eddie’s childlike behavior. Erica nods, “I know what you mean,” She makes a face and holds her wine glass out to cheer with them. Dustin clinks his Shirley Temple, and Steve clinks his beer, them all taking a sip.

“Both band’s images are terrible. It won’t be long till we’re losing more money,” Steve grumbles, taking another swig of his beer. “I think we should just lock them all in a room together till they get along,” Erica jokes, earning a chortle from Steve and a cackle from Dustin. They all sigh in unison, a comfortable silence falling over them.

Suddenly, Dustin sits up straight, aggressively snapping his fingers before pointing to Erica.

Steve jumps and makes a face at Dustin, grumbling about how annoying Dustin’s theatrics are. Erica rolls her eyes, already used to the boy’s antics. “Well? Are you gonna tell us about your nerdy little lightbulb moment or keep making a scene?” She sneers over her wine glass rim, taking a sip. Dustin looks back from Steve’s annoyed face to Erica’s tired one, basking in the dramatics.

“Why don’t we do just that?” He finally says.

Steve and Erica share a look. Typically, Dustin has these moments, and Steve and Erica have to entertain them, but Erica thinks Henderson might be onto something. Steve scoffs and leans back in his chair, “I doubt they’d last a week locked in a house before one kills the other.” Steve mumbles, clearly missing Dustin’s case in point.

Erica, however, knows just where Dustin’s mind has gone— to the motherland of brilliant-fucking-idea. Erica puts her glass down and leans her elbows on the table, resting her chin on the backs of her folded hands. “When you say just that, you mean…?” She looks at the boy quizzically, praying he means what she thinks he means. Steve puts his hand on the back of Dustin’s chair and leans forward, “I’m not really picking up on this guys,” He uses his other hand to lazily gesture. Dustin ignores Steve and nods slowly, “Oh hell yeah, I mean that.” He says, smirking mischievously. Erica and Dustin share a grin, a playful gleam in their eyes. Steve groans on the side in annoyance.

“Let’s book a fuckin’ tour bus, boys,” Erica concludes, and Dustin erupts in cheers, the two of them clinking their drinks. Steve finally understands, and his eyes widen, “Oh! Holy shit, that’s fucking genius.”

Erica laughs and finishes off the last of her wine. “Tiger is gonna kill me.” She smirks and shakes her head, sighing. Dustin and Steve share a look and chuckle a little bit, “Her reaction won’t be as bad as Munson’s. He’s gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Dustin says, slurping on his straw.

A few weeks pass before Erica, Steve, and Dustin manage to rally both bands in a conference room. The tension in the room is almost unbearable. For the most part, the band members seem more interested in knowing why they’ve been summoned together— the real tension is at the end of the table, where you and Eddie sit across from each other. Eddie wears a snickering grin to go along with his darkened shades, and you— well, if looks could kill, everybody in this room would be six feet under and crossing into the afterlife.

You’re pissed. Annoyed that you’re being forced to breathe the same air as that fuckface Eddie Munson, and Eddie could not be more pleased with himself. Eddie gazes at each of the girls across from him; Max, who’s glaring at your managers and bouncing her knee in evident impatience, Nancy, who couldn’t look more uninterested if she tried; and Robin, who seems more intrigued with the wood paneling of the wall to look at anything else. He makes the mistake of looking at you, earning him a nicely silver-wrapped middle finger which he winks at.

“If you two are done acting like children down there, we’d like to get this meeting started,” Erica announces from her seat at the head of the table. All eyes turn to her, and she sarcastically smiles, opening her mouth to begin speaking until you cut her off, “Whatever fucking bullshit you three have planned, I won’t be a part of it. Not with this asshole.” You gesture to the curly-haired boy across from you.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, and you glare at them, ignoring Robin’s elbow jabbing into your side. “It’s funny that you think you have a choice, Tiger,” Erica says, tilting her head with a grin. You begin to bounce your leg impatiently, jaw clenching as the ticking time bomb in your mind begins to speed up.

Dustin clears his throat and stands up, gathering everyone's attention as he clasps his hands. “Let’s cut straight to the chase,” he begins, “Your music careers are fucked.”

Jeff breathily laughs to the side, and Erica glares at him, quickly diminishing his obvious amusement. “Somehow, the seven of you have managed to obliterate your band's image in less than a month,” Dustin points out, picking up a stack of magazines before him and walking calmly about the room. He tosses a magazine out into the middle of the table, “Misogynists,” another magazine, “Anti-feminist,” another magazine, “Chauvinists,” another magazine— the final one, “Woman-haters.”

You all look at the magazines silently until you mumble, “Sounds about right,” causing Eddie to scoff and roll his eyes beneath his shades. “What? You’re mad the media is finally realizing how full of shit you all are?” You prod with a tilt of your head. “At least nobody’s saying I should be sent to a fucking ward.”

Your eyes narrow, and you begin to form a response, but Erica rises from her seat loudly, startling the room as her loud voice booms through the space, “The media is tearing both of you to shreds,” she leans forward to press her palms against the cool wooden table, heated gaze darting between you and Eddie.

“Both of your bands aren’t booking gigs, and you're losing money faster than you earn it,” she points out, watching as you all cower from the truth. She waves a manicured finger between both sides of the table, “This stupid little fucking back and forth you’ve created either ends here or on the road.”

Robin’s face twists in confusion, a raspy voice speaking up for the first time, “On the road?”

Steve turns to her and grins, “Yes. On the road. Together.”

Gareth leans forward in his chair, confused as he speaks, “What, like a retreat type deal?” He questions. Dustin slaps a paper down in front of him, “No. Tour. Nine months, ninety-two shows.”

Gareth doesn’t get much time to take in the information on the paper before Eddie snatches it out of his hands, shades pushed up into his hair as he leans in to gape at it. A list of tour dates, an ongoing and never-ending fucking list.

“You’re not serious.” He says. Steve chuckles at the end of the table, nodding his head, “As serious as a heart attack.”

You’re next to snatch the paper away for a gander, ignoring the rest of the room as everyone erupts in a fit of protest. You stand with your back to the table as you gaze through each date, your neck heating up with anger as your fingers crease the paper. You turn around, face twisted in rage, wrinkling the paper in your shaking fist as you storm up to where Erica stands, waiting for you to say your piece with an unwavering impression.

You hold the crinkled paper up as you stand before her, “You’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m doing shows with these pieces of shits.” You sneer, tossing the paper onto the table. Erica raises an eyebrow, looking at you as if you’ve gone off the deep end. The room enters a thick silence at your outburst, all eyes on the standoff between you and Erica. “Call the tour off, or I’m out.”

“What?” Robin leans forward to gaze at you, eyes widened in shock at your words, “You’re not leaving the band, Y/N, you— you can’t.”

You ignore Robin and step closer to Erica, eyes burning into her gaze as you speak, and Erica has never seen you this angry in all her years of knowing you. “Call it off.”

Erica will let you believe you have the upper hand for your peace of mind, but when it comes down to reality, you both know you don’t stand a chance against her force of nature. Erica is calm and uncannily patient as she speaks to you, “You’re at a dead-end street, Tiger,” she starts, “You either make a way, or you go back to Hawkins with your tail between your legs like everyone expected.”

Erica sits back in her chair, not even bothering to look at you as she busies herself with the paperwork before her when she adds, “You make the call.”

You glare down at her, throat closing in anger and betrayal. You don’t say another word as you storm out, leaving the room with a booming echo of the heavy glass door slamming shut. Erica sighs, settling back in her chair and gazing at the rest of the band members, who are all silently fuming in anger. “Now, does anyone else have something to say or something of substance to add, or are we done here?” Eddie rises from his seat with clear annoyance, “This is bullshit,” the force of his movement sends his chair back to the wall as he walks out of the room, just as angrily as you had previously done.

The remaining band members sit in silence, avoiding each other's gaze, and Steve breathily laughs, “Well, Dustin, you were wrong,” he teases, smirking when Dustin and Erica turn to him. “Eddie took that pretty well.”

The band members glance at the managers, and Dustin sighs as he leans back in his chair, twisting his mouth in thought and tapping his pen against the table.

“This is gonna be more work than I thought.”

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a/n: AHHH, YOU'VE MADE IT TO THE END!!! WE HOPE YOU LIKED THIS AND LOVE THEM SO FAR; more to come sooonnnn <3

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