60s/70s Classic Rock Smuts and Fluffs

Bruce Springsteen Smut/Love Story

September 27 1978
It was a cold, late, night in New York City . It was 11:58 pm at night, you were storming out of the record studio you worked at. Your friend of nearly 4 years, Bruce Springsteen was chasing after you. The two of you had gotten into an argument about your boyfriend Micheal. He had become more aggressive with you lately, and pushed you into a table a few days ago. It left a few bruises on your arm and chest. Bruce noticed them, called them out. And it pissed you off.

He finally caught up to you and grabbed your arm.

"Y/N stop!" Bruce shouted as you were trying to get to the crosswalk and escape his grasp. He grabbed your other arm and pulled you to face him. You refused to face him and looked down at your feet, but you weren't struggling to get away from him now.

"Y/N, would you please look at me?" "We really  need to talk about this, Micheals hurting you."

"I'm fine, really it's none of your business!" "I'm 22 I can handle myself!" You said managing to get both of your arms free from his hands. But you were looking straight into his eyes, you hated how he was looking at you. He looked at you the same way you would look at a sick puppy or something like that. You hated that. You didn't like when people felt pity for you. But what was worse, was the fact that you knew Bruce was right.

Tears started to fill your eyes, you turned around and began to run back to your apartment. Once you finally reached your door, you opened it and slammed it shut. You sat on the ground leaning against the door crying into your hands.

After a few minutes, you finally got up and wiped the stained tears off your cheeks. You changed into some more comfortable clothes and turned on some music. You slowly laid down on your bed and began to think about Bruce. You couldn't get over the way he grabbed you, and the way he looked at you. You drifted off for a while, until you heard the door slam loudly. You jumped up, and then began to feel dread from the knowledge that Micheal was definitely home.

"Y/N!? Where the hell are you?!" You were terrified, but you knew if you ran and hid it would piss him off even more. You exited your bedroom, only to see Micheal  just a few feet away.

He stormed right up to you and took a tight grip on your arm, you tried to tug your arm away. He then pushed you onto the floor. Your head just barely missed the coffee table.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Micheal?!!" You screamed at him, as you began to lift yourself off the floor.

"What's wrong Y/N?!! I'll tell you what's wrong! Your a god damn slut!"

"What the hell do you mean?!"

"I saw you and Bruce near the crosswalk! I knew there was something between you two!"

This only brought back the thoughts of Bruce confronting you about the bruises, how much he cared. And how he was right. You wanted to cry, but you knew you had to make sure Micheal knew that you and Bruce were not really together.

You began to walk closer to him, and spoke in a softer tone.

"Micheal, sweetheart, there is nothing between me and Bruce."

"Really? Your sure?"

"Yes! He was just asking about my bruises and-.."

You stopped talking after realizing what you just let slip. The anger started to build up in Michaels eyes. And you didn't know whether to back track your words, or bolt out the door. Before you could make a decision you felt and hard slap against your feet the made you fall to the floor.