#Musician AU

[zvdvdlvr]

Im fucking BARKING

Ok so my brain fog is real today bc awful pain but a friend and I were swapping Viktor headcanons one day specifically of musician!Viktor (and what else he could do with those hands 🤤) and now bass playing Viktor lives rent free in my head so do with that what you will if you feel so inclined. 😉 like idk maybe reader has been secretly watching him play at her favorite bar forever and has been pining….or it’s like a Judah/Princess Carolyn situation and reader has no idea he’s a musician on the side. ^_^

Here you go, Lyds!  I’m sorry it’s not terribly heavy on musical details, because while I love music I know precious damn little about making it.  

Just some sweet fluff, I decided to give reader a name bc I’m terribly tired of doing y/n stuff but it’s still reader perspective and limited name usage.

Musician!Viktor x Fem!Reader SFW

It was getting to the point you couldn't afford this. Neither your stretched thin budget, nor your sleep-deprived schedule. Not even your liver, to be honest. But each week, three times a week, you somehow managed to find a way to pay the cover charge, afford the three drink minimum, and drag yourself from bed the next morning and back off to work.

It was worth it. Viktor played beautifully. But it wasn't just the music, it was him. That first night you caught one of his regular sets at the bar was purely accidental. It was your favorite spot and once or twice a month you'd stop in, treat yourself, or else swing by with friends. He'd sat down quietly on the tall lone stool in the small cleared space that acted as a makeshift stage near the far end of the bar and in the solitary bright light in the warm, dimly lit space, simply began to play.

It was like that each time. No conversation, no introduction or rambling or belabored explanations of who he was or what each song was about. He simply sat, began to play, and one by one the conversations would hush or lower, the whole place wrapped up for the two hour stretch of each of his sets. He only ever sang along to the last song, and played the same one each time to wrap the set. It wasn't a language you understood, and he sang quiet and low, but oh how it haunted. Raised goosebumps across your skin each time, left scalp tingling deliciously without fail.  Mouth parted and breath tight, practically shivering, melting.

It had become like a drug.

The only thing that absorbed your week, the one thing you looked forward to and it was draining your accounts and pressing your time... but you needed it. Craved it. You'd even found the perfect spot, the perfect seat in the house to watch him play, relax and not be bothered by any other single barflies that might be looking for someone to make conversation with or flirt with. And most importantly, you were fairly sure he couldn't see you. Perfectly camouflaged in the sea of ever changing faces and other regulars.

Janna forbid he ever start looking up from that bass and caught you sitting there, rapt, with what you were very certain was an incredibly stupefied look of lovesick adoration on your face.

You knew this was stupid, one sided, and ridiculously parasocial. To entertain such an enormous and painful crush on a boy you knew nothing about - simply because he played so beautifully, looked so lovely sat perched there on that stool with the bass balanced on one lean thigh. He was all long, slim limbs, sharp cheekbones and cut of jaw. Heavy brows that would knit in concentration over the complicated parts of songs or lift in unapologetic joy at the lilting melodies.

The warmer nights he's roll up sleeves to his elbows. Rid himself of his tie. And you could sit there, nursing a cool drink as you watched the little trickle of a bead of sweat trace its unhurried path down his forehead, down between brows to roll along his nose and hang shivering off the end of it before dropping away.

To say nothing of the ones that ran down alongside his ear, trickling along the perfect hook of his jaw down along the lean column of his throat only to disappear into the dip of his collarbone just visible in the part of his shirt. Oh, to be able to chase such lucky things; to catch salt on your tongue and taste of skin. To have them drip down upon you with him braced upon elbows above, those narrow hips fitted neatly between spread thighs.

It embarrassed you, how much you wanted him.

You'd never had such a silly crush before. Never let yourself get so wrapped up in anyone that they were all you could think about, that you couldn't sleep at night without indulging in at least one little fantasy of them. He was ruining you, stealing your sleep from staying up late to catch each set and then even more, every night, moans soft across the pillow, thighs shivering out tension with no one between them, nothing but your own fingertips and the cycle of fevered fantasy of his mouth, his hands, his tongue.

His voice in your ear.

It was one of these sticky hot summer nights, and it had already got off to a terrible start. Held late at work, crosstown traffic terrible, a long line at the door of the bar. Your favorite spot had been taken, and you weren't sure how you were going to afford the three drink minimum tonight. You'd skipped your morning coffee and head had throbbed half the day to thank you for the caffeine withdrawal. It was time to accept you simply couldn't keep this up. It wasn't healthy, it would never go anywhere, and what had begun as a delightful indulgence had instead begun to hurt.

Glaring cold jealousy at the unassuming people who'd managed to nab your favorite spot you instead took a seat at the bar and ordered the most refreshing drink they had; laced with thin sliced cucumber and botanical infused vodka, positively crammed with ice and sparkling with the effervescence of charged water. You toyed with the little yellow nasturtium flower that came perched on the top of it and sipped slowly. Very slowly.

“That looks delicious.”  

Already having suffered a frustrating day, sitting in simmering in anger over having your comfortable plans ruined, miserable over being ready to shake off this silly crush and preparing to face the inevitable discomfort of having to stop all this madness, ween yourself back to a normal life, all of it compounded by the aggravating heat, you felt your temper spike hot and sudden at the nerve of some random man moving in to flirt with you.  Rolled eyes to yourself and clenched jaw before the hand holding the little yellow flower hit the bar and your turned sharply to tell the owner of that voice to piss off.

Only to be met by a soft, fox-sly tilt pair of golden amber eyes under familiar dark brows.

And your heart stopped.  Stumbled, stutter-started and tried very hard to both climb up into your throat and simultaneously drop into the pit of your stomach, leaving you reeling.  And he smiled, cupid bow shape of his mouth canting ever so slightly higher at the edge that a little beauty mark graced.  That soft gaze of his strayed to your glass before it rose to catch the bartender, and he lifted a single elegant finger to order the same drink for himself.

Apparently undeterred by your awkward silent ogling about ten inches away from his face, he turned back to you with that warm look again.  Your body forgot it had legs, limbs, internal organs or anything more than the panicked hammering of that treacherous heart and hard static buzz of your brain short circuiting.  He nodded at the little flower you held.

“Did you know those are edible?  My grandmother used to grow them in a little box outside her windowsill.”

Your attention strayed to the small flower whose stem you were currently crushing between thumb and forefinger.  And then that vaporlock finally broke in your brain.  Let you breathe a soft laugh that thankfully did not sound as unhinged as you felt.

“You’re putting me on.”

The bartender delivered his drink and Viktor plucked the little flower in his up, stared you dead in the face, dare accepted, and popped it whole into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as that smile grew and you watched him incredulously.  Just waiting for him to give up the game, spit it out sputtering and laugh at having his bluff called.  Instead he swallowed happily, the lovely rise of that adam’s apple in his throat moving enticingly against the open part of his collar - no tie tonight - and took a slow sip of his drink.

You eyed your little flower and lifted it slowly, paused to narrow gaze at him before you bit one petal off.  It was edible.  Peppery, like bitter lettuce with a finish like fresh scrubbed carrots.  You felt your brows shoot up and heard him laugh warmly as he leaned an elbow on the bar beside you and took another long sip of his drink.

“See?”  

“Yes!  Its... they’re good!”  You took another nibble and he held out his free hand.

“I’m Viktor.”

You struggled with the half eaten flower, petal still hanging partway out your mouth, and finally dropped the flower back into your drink, covered your mouth with one hand and offered him the other.  Real smooth.  Just killing it.

“Yef. Imf.  Ahem.  Haha... I uh, I know.  I’m Tasha.”  

“Tasha.”  He took your hand, kindly ignoring all the awkwardness, or else actually mindboggingly charmed by it, “I’ve seen you here before I think?”

Oh damn.  Oh fuck.  

As delicious as the gentle fold of his hand was around yours, you tried to slide yours away and hide embarrassment at being caught out by turning back to your drink.  Instead he caught the tips of your fingers and held tight.  Not crushing, just enough tension to stop you, to draw your hand back toward him.  Had you blinking surprise as your heart decided its new job was to turn as many summersaults as possible in your chest instead of pump blood, leaving you feeling a little lightheaded. 

“Do you like my music?”  It was almost shy, the way he asked it.  As if he had no idea how good he was.

“Janna, yes.”  You breathed earnestly, before you could stop yourself.  Earned a delighted and open expression of surprise from him and a mortifyingly hot blush that swept from your throat to cheeks.  So much redder and undoubtedly less attractive than the sweet pale pink dusting in the hollows of his cheeks.  

He toyed a callused thumb at your fingertips he still held, gaze focused on them.  Oh no, you’d embarrassed him as well as yourself.  Good going.

“I’m...” You both began at once.  And then just like that the lights cut off.  A collective groan went up from the entirety of the packed bar.  Left only with the dim illumination of  the flickering small candles in their votives scattered on table tops.  It happened regularly out here on the city limits, so close to the drop off toward Zaun.  During the sweltering days of summer they kept the rolling blackouts random and confined to the edges, siphoning power into the wealthier, glittering city center to keep their lights on and fans running.  Just letting everyone stuck out here know their place, and weren’t you terribly grateful to get what you were given?  Imagine how bad it was a block or two over and a half mile down.  

The bartender threw his rag angrily upon the bar and people began tossing back their drinks and rising to head out into the night to somewhere less packed and stifling and perhaps left with power or in possession of a generator.  Viktor seemed only a little chagrined as he released your hand and settled unhurriedly on the barstool beside you to savor his cool drink in the dim light.

“Ah well.  No set tonight.”  He cast you a sly little glance that had your heart sinking.  He had noticed you, and not just as a vaguely familiar face.  He knew.  “Sorry I won’t be able to play for you tonight.”

Something in the way he said it, though perhaps it was just you reading too much into the cadence of his soft clipped accent; misunderstanding emphasis placed on certain words.  But it sounded... gods, it sounded like he really meant he was sorry he couldn’t play for you - just you.  No.  That was your silly one sided crush talking.  Stamp that idea out right now.  Intense foolishness.  Get a grip, girl.

“I don’t suppose...”  He’d turned away a little bit, toward the bar, thumb toying against the condensation beading and dripping off his drink in a way that made you jealous of the glass.  “I don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk?”

Do what now?  Yes.  Yes you would.  Walk wherever.  Ends of the earth?  Straight into hell?  Yes indeed, lets go.  You managed not to choke on a swallow of your drink and nodded before voice found you.

“Yes.”  Could you possibly manage anything more than monosyllabic answers, please?  “Yes, I’d love to.”

There, was that so hard?

He brightened, and half turned back toward you.  As if you were the one doing him a favor here and not the other way around.  

The sweltering evening passed in a delicious little blur.  The two of you slowly finding footing in conversation at the bar, unhurried as you finished your drinks before turning out onto the streets.  The wandering was aimless and pleasantly slow as you chatted away, stopped at a street vendor to buy a few kebabs of  that unidentifiable but sumptuously delicious meat that was so common here and in Zaun.  Dripping with sweet spicy, sticky sauce that had you licking your fingers and him rubbing a smudge away from the corner of your mouth as you both sat on a stranger’s stoop to eat.

A little while later there was a second vendor, selling sweet iced milks, cardamom and cinnamon spiced, sweetened with honey and poured over shaved ice.  Viktor insisted on treating, absolutely thrilled to find this vendor out and about tonight, explained how he usually missed them.  Readily apparent the incredibly lean boy had a surprisingly raging sweet tooth.  

The cane had also been a surprise.  You’d noticed the slight limp and the brace that ran up his leg but had never seen him take more than a few steps onto and off the makeshift clearing of a stage at the bar.  It had you concerned at first about wearing him out with the walk, but he set a comfortably easy pace and you didn’t mind the meandering at all.  Though you did notice when he began to flag.  It couldn’t have been easy, along with the weight of his bass slung across his back.  

“I... uhm... my place isn’t far.  If you want.  The power’s probably not on, but there’s a fire escape that usually has a nice breeze.  And the stuff in the icebox is probably still cool.  If you want to rest a bit.”  It all came out in a bit of a rush.  Had him stalling on the sidewalk as he leaned weight upon that cane a bit heavily.  Gaze inscrutable for a long moment that had you panicking that perhaps he thought you were making a clumsy move on him.  

And then a little rocking step brought him closer.  Close enough to get a little distracted by that second beauty mark under one golden eye and the scent of iced honey sweet on his breath.

“Alright.  Only if you promise once we get there you’ll let me kiss you.”  Those luminous eyes not on yours but trained lower, watching the shape of your mouth.  And you realized suddenly he’d been doing that all evening; attention flicking between eye contact and sliding away time and time again to watch you speak, eat... and now to catch your lower lip between the crush of teeth like you needed to hide it from that gently hungry gaze.

“W-what?”  You heard it practically squeak out of you.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to all night.”  He admitted with remarkable honesty, catching you even more fully off guard.  “Please don’t invite me back to your place if...  if that’s not what you want.”

Like he was running out of patience with himself and unable to face it if all you were doing was humoring him, somehow just being kind and coolly friendly.

“You can... you can kiss me right now.”  Janna, it just came blurting out of you in a hot rush.  Stammered and eager and slightly choked.

Ah, how he smiled.  Slow and sweet before he rocked forward and caught your mouth.  Fingertips trailing little licking electric lines of tingling fire back in a sweep above your jaw before he hooked hand in a cradle and pulled you closer.

Soft little suckle of your lower lip started it all, pulled at it temptingly and you felt the tip of his tongue brush a little taste, just a little one, before teeth caught a tiny tug and then both your mouths were open and you were done for.  Hands reaching up to stroke along his throat, slide fingertips up into that soft mess of hair behind his ears.  He was terribly gentle for the way you could feel him practically trembling with want as you slid tongue a slow roll slick against his own, drew it into your mouth in invitation, small teases of licks leaving you breathless until you both had to break at last.  

Not that either of you wanted to - but the hooting cat calls of several passersby finally managed to penetrate the silent, muffled solitary universe the pair of you had descended into.  Viktor glanced after their retreating backs before turning back to you with a shy smile, letting his forehead come to rest against yours as he thumbed away the glistening wet he’d left along your lower lip.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that for weeks.”  He admitted and it turned your world on its head.  Had you break down in a breathless little ragged laugh. 

“Me too.”

[paperstorm]

From Somewhere in a Song chapter four, posting tomorrow :) I may not get around to reblogging all your lovely wips given it's Christmas but please still tag me in them!!

-

He rolls back onto his side and forces himself vertical, bare feet on the bristly hotel carpet. He stretches, spine cracking as he arches his back and raises his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders back a few times and letting his head loll back and forth to work out the stiffness in his neck. The bed was plenty comfortable, it’s a nice hotel, but a good mattress is no match for a sleepless night.

Carlos showers and dresses, trying to occupy his mind with the plot of the movie he’d watched on the plane and the lyrics to favorite songs from his youth and naming all the obscure colors he can think of – anything to keep his brain from focusing on the one thing it wants to think about. Crimson, wenge, cerulean. He brushes his teeth, runs some gel through his hair, does 30 push-ups even though his shoulders are still sore, dresses in jeans and a green t-shirt and regrets that it’s barely 7:30 by the time he’s finished all that.

Not wanting to sit alone and mope in his room anymore, Carlos pulls on his boots and heads for the breakfast room near the lobby. He nearly jumps in an exaggerated startle as the elevator doors open and the last person in the world he wants to see is standing on the other side of them. TK’s wearing a yellow hoodie with the hood up and black sweatpants, and he’s holding a large take-out coffee in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Oh,” he says, sounded as dumbfounded as Carlos feels.

“Hey,” Carlos says. It comes out flat and unfriendly, and Carlos isn’t sure he cares. They do an awkward dance as they switch places, Carlos entering the elevator car as TK leaves it.

 “Hey, man, I didn’t …”

Carlos looks at him. TK’s eyes are squinted into a wince and if his hands weren’t full, he looks as if he’d be wringing them cartoonishly. His body language communicates an appropriate level of guilt for his accidentally overheard backstage remark, but he doesn’t say anything, and Carlos is hardly in the mood to absolve him of something he won’t even admit to.

“Okay,” he says, unsure of how else to respond. He presses the button labelled M on the inside panel and only avoids jamming his finger into the ‘door close’ button because TK would see him doing it.

“It’s just – what I said last night, I didn’t mean that you were –”

“It’s fine,” Carlos interrupts shortly, really not wanting to hear it. He’s saved from having to by the elevator doors closing in TK’s face. He shuts his eyes and wishes he were in a hooded sweatshirt of his own so he could hide inside it like a turtle retreating into its shell.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@hereghostslive @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89

@carlossreaders @ladytessa74 @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[littlewanibites]

Kidlawgust Day 11: Musicians

[phantomsies]

die for me • a. artlert - kinktober part one

“..once I get inside, you’ll wanna die for me..”

kink: drug play

📝 other themes and things: producer/artist!armin, fem!black reader, drug use (coke use, percs in nether regions, you get my drift), fingering him for .2 seconds, mirror play, choking, oral sex (m. receiving), backshots, heavy kissing, squirting, spit play, pet names, prone bone

wc: 2.2K

📃 foreword: hi lovelies! just wanted to say thank you for allowing me to start fresh and supporting my work/transition throughout all of this. Also, being patient with me bc I’ve been slow as hell about posting again!

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euphoria. It’s a feeling of excitement that manifests in different forms..a sensation achieved by the best experiences. Some get there by taking substances, others through thrill seeking. And for Armin Artlert?

“Oh God…yeah, that’s it, beautiful. All the way down…”

it was the fulfillment of his carnal desires…a constant high he’d chase with liquor or whatever narcotic he was choosing to divulge in for the evening. Just one of his many, less than savory vices. He knew it wasn’t a lifestyle he could maintain forever..and hell, it may even catch up to him sooner rather than when he’d like. But for now, he was enjoying the chaotic ride and every bump it had to offer along the way.

“Ahh!—fuck…good girl. Now hold it..I know you can do it, baby. Just take that dick to the back of your throat f’r me..all the way.”

it was an evening like the many others (y/n) (l/n) spent in the company of the famed producer and notorious bachelor. You’d spent the entirety of your day seated in a high chair as makeup brushes patted your gorgeous face. That delicate crown filled with luscious, kinky curls sat atop your head and was styled for a photoshoot. It was in the midst of a break that you’d return to your dressing room, greeted by a dozen roses..along with the charming smile of your beau. He was adamant on the fact that he despised interrupting your work but he truly couldn’t help but to sneak in some quality time with you. It was widely out of character for him and quite frankly, hell had a better chance of freezing twice over than Armin being monotonous! However, you’d invoked quite the change in him and it was so obvious, it was almost laughable. He’d inform you that he wanted you to finish up your job without pause but tonight, he’d be coming to scoop you up and he wanted you all to his lonesome.

fast forward, and that plan became reality. Now here you were..being all but defiled on his bedroom floor as you sat with your thighs slightly spread and upright on your knees. Saliva had pooled and trickled down from your mouth to those plump breasts he adored. Your pretty face practically smeared with spit and his precum. A beautiful, delicious mess, all of his creation and he loved it.

“Here, open your mouth, beautiful.” “Mmmm..thank you...”

With that, he greeted you with another lob of spit whilst gently tugging your head back. That’s when you’d begin to devour that thick cock whole..from the base to the tip with little resistance. Swallowing every inch and allowing him to hollow out your throat as if it were nothing. It was no unbeknownst secret to him that you were pretty damn freaky of your own volition. Hell, there were instances that you’d made him tap out but you were on an entirely different wavelength at the moment. You were practically insatiable and Armin was enjoying every waking second of it! A grin would stretch from ear to ear on the producer’s face when you’d take his shaft into your palm and stroke it. Meanwhile, your lips suctioned around those swollen balls, alternating between them to place gentle kisses and licks along the veined perimeter.

“You’re such a good slut for me, baby. Oh my gosh, I love you..you’re going to make me come so hard, I swear..” his tone was almost desperate and whiny as you continued on. But perhaps, the best was yet to happen when he felt a foreign sensation emit throughout his body. Those gorgeous brown eyes had become dilated and you were practically unstoppable.

“Am I making you feel good, daddy? Like when I spit on this fucking dick for you?”

“Yes, sweetheart. You’re doing fucking amazing. Make sure you get all that precum too..”

So much so, that your head would completely lower onto his shaft, taking the entire thing down your throat and holding it in place with minimal gagging. You’d stay there for a few seconds longer before coming up and emitting heavy strings of saliva with you. Once you did so, strings of your bodily fluids would seep down his pelvis and once it did, you’d use that makeshift lubricant to tease his other entrance.

“Fuuuck! Baby… ‘S so good..swear I should marry you right now.”

Nearly reducing him to a babbling mess. Constantly doting on you as you awoke all of his carnal desires. Exploring and opening his eyes to things he’d never experienced. He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters but there wasn’t one girl who’d ever pushed the boundaries the way you had. He had fallen in love all over again at that moment. One could even chock it up the heightened sensitivity you gained when taking drugs. It were almost as if both of you were in another reality and completely out of your heads. He’d even sniffle a few times, wiping his nose from the powdery substance he’d consumed earlier. You on the other hand, had been given a pink tablet that had melted on your tongue and since, (y/n) had lost all sense of morality and self control. The only thing on your mind was fucking him until he passed out and vice versa.

What was even more attractive was that you hadn't stopped moaning around his shaft and stroking your clit since you’d been down there. Becoming increasingly more aroused and soon, you’d need something to fill that ache in your womb. Fingering yourself hadn’t been quite sufficient, despite your orgasm already. With a deviant grin on your face, you’d begin to giggle and lob more saliva around the entire area; even making slurping motions on his that sensitive sack.

“Yeah? I’ll really let you do whatever you want to me then.” Ironic considering that you had already surpassed limits that other girls wouldn’t dare. That’s when he’d lean forward and place a deep kiss onto your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and clutched your throat in the process.

“That’s very..very good to know. Here, do me a favor and crawl over to the mirror, sweetheart. I’ve gotten something for you.”

suddenly, you were on all fours..swaying your hips as you followed his instructions. Like a lynx in the wild who couldn’t be tamed. His view was consumed with that round, plump ass and those fat pussy lips in the back and it was enough to make his cock twitch once more. Coated in precum and spit, Armin stroked himself, bucking his hips up into his palm before joining you on the floor. His knees were grazed by the furry carpet whilst he mounted behind you. The giant reflective glass perfectly captured both of your expressions in that moment. Grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed but certainly not confused. You both knew exactly what you wanted. Those pupils had become dilated and the surrounding areas bloodshot…

“Look at you..so perfect. You have no idea how beautiful you are, baby…” it was whilst he was talking, the desperate blonde reached over and retrieved another small baggy from the bed. It was just one of many substances he’d procured for the evening. Affectionately dubbing them his ‘party favors’. He’d usher you to back up against him as he maneuvered so that he was somewhat positioned underneath you. With your thighs spread to the opposite side of his own and that ass placed atop his crotch, Armin would place a hand into the center of your back to ensure that it was slightly arched.

“There we go, sweetheart…keep it just like that.”

Meanwhile, he’d run a singular thumb between your wet folds and that puckering asshole. All of it was so perfectly on display for him. Sucking his teeth, the famed producer would go on to extract the pill from the baggy before teasing it against that other entrance. It took a moment for you to get acclimated but it didn’t take long for the sensation to kick in. That puckering hole accepted it with ease and immediately began to take effect. Strings of your arousal were already leaking but once he inserted that tiny tablet, you were practically insatiable. That dazed expression on your pretty face became all but a permanent fixture…drool seeped from the corner of your mouth and your pupils remained glossed over.

“G-aghhh…I love it..makes me so fucking wet..”

Armin, becoming ecstatic at the sheer sight alone uttered a laugh as he navigated your hips until that dripping cunt was positioned right above the aching tip of his cock. “Yeah, you always did like these…I swear you’re the only person who would let me do some shit like this.” “Well you’re the only man I’ve met, willing to do it..so I guess it works out.” The two of you exchanged another set of laughs before the real action began.

“Can I put it in now, angel?..”

“I’d be pissed if you made me wait any longer..”

“Somebody’s eager..that’s my girl. Now stay still.”

foaming both at the mouth and entrance to be stuffed full of him, (y/n) would take a glance back and await his next move. Suddenly, you’d find yourself releasing a loud moan and arching your back even further as that swollen tip penetrated your hole. The initial feeling was like none you had ever experienced..it always was as if it were the first time with Armin. Hell, that’s just how amazing the sex was. But it was something about those substances coursing your veins and adding fuel to the fire that hit differently. In a matter of seconds, you were both trembling but could not stop. Slowly but surely, he’d feed you deep yet rhythmic strokes, trying to maintain his composure.

“Oh my gosh…look at how wet you are already, sweetheart. This pussy’s so creamy.”

Just as you were beginning to become acclimated with those strokes, Armin would increase his speed and begin to feed you more rhythmic thrusts. His hips snapping against your backside as he dug his nails into your flesh. The collision of that thick ass made it all but impossible for him to maintain his composure.

“Mmmmph..that dick feels so good..so deep in me..”

“Yeah? I’m not even in your spot yet and you’re already dripping. Might have to feed you some of this shit more often, baby.”

the soft whine escaping your lips as your head tilted back and it allowed him the opportunity to coil his hands around your throat. It was then that you were met with a slight hinge of aggression. Not in a violent or mean way but it was stemming from the fact that he was overstimulated. Those drugs were coursing through your systems at rapid speed so any sensation you felt was increased tenfold. Every thrust, every thrash, every touch and every glide in and out of those wet folds were driving him crazy! The same applies to you..every stroke became far more intense than the last and that ball of climatic energy began to swell in the pit of your stomach, ready to burst at any second. Strings of dripping warmth began to stain his exposed thigh and the carpet underneath your clashing bodies. Before long, those minimal droplets would expand to a large puddle as he caught a glimpse of your face in that mirror…you’d watch your own reflection as your body jolted around and suddenly your eyes were at the back of your head.

“Shit! I’m fucking coming!..”

“Theeeere we go, sweetheart. Squirt on that fucking dick..good girl.”

Whilst you released a heavy stream of warm juices, Armin would keep a light grasp on your hips as he allowed you to ride out your orgasm. Those sweet moans and shrill cries pooled out along with those divine droplets of your bodily nectar. It wasn’t long before you’d find yourself writhing around underneath his entire body weight though…as he had maneuvered you into a prone bone position shortly after. Pinning those wrists behind your back, Armin would then plank himself atop of your trembling frame; bucking those hips against the rippling flesh of your ass. The sight of that recoil alone was enough to make him reach his own peak. But alas, he’d maintain his stride a little bit longer. After all, neither of you had any plans of quitting any time soon…the adrenaline of the moment and the influence of those substances were keeping you both amplified beyond what should have been normal human capacity. But perhaps, the strongest one of all flowing throughout your veins was pure, unadulterated lust!..an insatiable desire for one another that couldn’t be kicked with the strongest of rehabilitation. It was a night that had only reached its beginning stages and who knew what lay in wait next…

“I’m gonna play in all these pretty holes, baby…I don’t give a fuck how long it takes. Not gonna stop until we pass out..you know how I like it.”

and it was a venture that you were looking more than forward to!

[sequs-art-box]

Tuning problems

[whore-of-hogwarts06]

Sirius “singer and guitarist” Black and Remus “bassist” Lupin at a concert:

(Marauders x Family Line by Conan Gray)

Sirius, who hasn’t seen Reggie since before Reg transitioned: God I have my father’s eyes, but my sister’s when I cry-

Regulus, in the back corner, trying to stop crying, thinking Sirius knows but just doesn’t support him

[a-lilguy]

[hikarry]

I get why you would have Crowley be a guitarist/vocalist. It's a classic in the fandom. But a pianist? I don't really see that instrument fitting him

My reason is one and only one and a very simple one at that: Have you looked at that man's hands?

Anthony J. Crowley was created to play a fucking piano!

As a pianist myself, I would commit cold blooded murder to have long slim fingers like those!

It is a sin I haven't run across a single fanfic - in universe or not - where this guy plays a piano! Look at the way he moves his bloody fingers! Look at how fucking fluid he is!

I will have him sit his ass in front of a piano and fucking serenate Aziraphale every night if I have to, but my musician Crowley will be, regardless of anything else, a pianist god

I understand your scepticism tho

Most musician Crowley AUs have him as a rock star and, by God, so will I, but whoever made the rule that rock stars only sing and play drums or the guitar?

You need no other example but the Queen of Glam Rock himself, Freddie Fucking Mercury. He is one of the biggest rock stars to ever grace this Earth and he could barely play a bloody guitar to save his life, but was a genius at the piano

Don't Stop Me Now. Killer Queen. Somebody To Love. We Are The Champions. Breakthru. Face It Alone. Spread Your Wings. The March of the Black Queen. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy.

I could keep going.

Do you know what all of those have in common?

They are all Queen songs, yes. All undeniably rock songs. And their main instrument is what? A piano

I rest my case

[holyblanchett]

Cate Blanchett speaking German and eating her daughters bully up in Tár will forever be the most iconic moment in cinematic history.

[lives-in-midgard]

Wildest Dreams

(Musician AU Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you and your friend are spending time in a bar, you meet Steve Rogers which leads to an incredible and life changing offer.

Word Count: 1250

A/N: Hey! I'm so excited to share the first part of Bucky's musician AU with you. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist | Musician AU

Almost everyone knows the famous band ‘The Midnight Rockers’. Founded in high school by Steve Rogers with his friends Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson and Clint Barton. At first, only a few people who attended their small gigs or who knew their YouTube videos listened to them. Until they were one day found by the music producer and manager Tony Stark. Now they are one of the most famous bands from all around the word.

Even though they have a lot of fans, there are still people who don’t know them or who hate their music. You’re one of those people who knows their songs, but you’ve never really been a big fan or followed their carrier.

Until one special day.

But to get to this day, the band had to go through a big change.

It all started when they went on tour earlier this year. Clint began to distance himself from the others and after three months he suddenly told the others that he wants to leave the band. Steve, Sam and Bucky were so confused and tried to talk to Clint, but his decision was final. The manager of the band was very angry, especially because it was during their tour. He decided that it would be the best to put the tour on hold until everything was sorted out.

So the band went back to New York, even though they would rather be on tour. It broke their hearts to upset their fans like that, but they hope to continue the tour soon. Steve suggested that the band could just stay with the three of them, but Tony insisted on finding a new band member.

It’s been two months since Clint left the band and they still haven’t found a new band member. It’s harder than Tony thought and it takes a lot of effort to find someone who fits into the band.

It was on a Saturday night when you and your best friend Kate decided to go to Romanoff’s bar. You enjoyed your time there and after a while Kate thought it would be fun to sing karaoke. You couldn’t resist, especially because you love to sing. Music has always been something very important in your life. It has always been one of your wildest dreams to be a singer and songwriter one day. You sang one of your favorite songs and had a lot of fun.

When you sat down at your table, you noticed a cute looking guy with blonde hair looking at you from across the room. He seemed somewhat familiar, but you didn’t know who it was. Suddenly he stood up from his chair and walked towards you.

“Omg, that’s Steve Rogers.” Kate said excited.

“You know him?” You asked not sure who he was.

“You’re joking, right?” She asked and you shook your head.

“This is Steve Rogers from the band ‘The Midnight Rockers’.” She explained and you finally knew where you must have seen him before.

“Hey ladies.” Steve said when he stood in front of your table.

“Hey.”

“I heard you sing and think that you have a really special voice. You probably know that my band is looking for a new band member, and I think you have the perfect voice for the band.”

“Really?” You asked, not sure if this was some kind of joke or if he was really serious.

“Yeah, definitely. I would like to invite you to a band rehearsal.”

“Wow, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say yes.” Kate whispered next to you and Steve chuckled.

“You don’t have to decide now. I’ll give you my phone number so you can call me when you have thought about it.”

“Okay, that’s a good idea.” You said and handed him your phone so he could type his number in. When Steve was finished, he handed it back to you and you saved his name to your contacts. Then you said goodbye to each other and when he left, you couldn’t believe what just happened. Being a singer has always been your dream and now you’re one step closer to making your dream come true.

You thought about it for a few days and even though you weren’t sure if you should be in this band, especially if you would even fit in, you decided to call Steve and told him that you would like to meet the others. The thought of living your dream as a singer gave you butterflies, and you had to at least try it.

The day came, and you drove to the location Steve told you. You were nervous and a bit scared. Would the other band members even like you? What if you would embarrass yourself because of your nervousness? Those were the main thoughts running through your mind, but they all faded away when you parked your car there and took a deep breath.

When you knocked on the door, Steve opened it with a big smile and greeted you with a hug.

“You don’t have to be nervous.” Steve said because he probably noticed how you were feeling. He led you further into the room where two other guys were. One was sitting at the drums and the other one had a guitar.

“Guys, that’s y/n.” Steve said, and they both looked at you.

“Y/n, this is Sam and Bucky.” He said, pointing at them. When you saw Bucky, you froze.

“You?” You both said at the same time.

This is your upstairs neighbor, Bucky Barnes.

The neighbor who once played his guitar so loud in the middle of the night that you had to knock on his door and asked him to be quiet.

Then he promised you not to play at night anymore.

Bucky started playing in the afternoon, and you listened to him from your balcony.

This was the highlight of your day until one day he suddenly disappeared.

You missed hearing him sing and seeing him on the hallway.

Now he’s back, and it turns out he is in the band ‘The Midnight Rockers’.

“You know each other?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded with a slight smile.

You talked with them for a while and told them that you still weren’t sure if you fit into the band. After a while they decided to try to sing a song with you. Before it was your part to sing, you looked over to Bucky who was playing the guitar. When he noticed that you were looking at him, he gave you a comforting smile. When you began to sing his smile got bigger.

“Wow, your voice is really special.” Bucky said and you began to blush.

“And it fits good with ours.” Sam said and Steve nodded.

“So, what do you say…would you like to be in our band?” Steve asked and you hesitated for a second before saying yes.

“Okay, that’s great, then we call our manager.” You stayed for a few more minutes before you decided to leave. When you went outside you smiled and were really happy to be in the band and you’re curious to see what’s going to happen next.

“Are you sure she’s the right person for the band?” You suddenly heard Bucky ask, but you couldn’t really understand what Steve or Sam were saying.

Why did he ask that? You thought he would like to have you in the band? Just like Steve and Sam? But looks like he doesn’t want you in the band.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

@beaubbdoll

[luvrrgirl444]

kill bill !: in which two musicians break up. they claim they hate eachother, but can’t seem to get the other out of their mind.

musician! connie springer x black! fem musican reader

smau + written

taglist is open!

profiles! 🦋

the hot girls | the dumbasses + ymir

chapters! 🦋

chapter 1: c***ie 🤢

chapter 2: hop off my dick

chapter 3: stupidest man on earth

chapter 4: i ❤️ crazy women

chapter 5: exchange

chapter 6: men deserve death

chapter 7: city girls up

chapter 8: bitch say she love me

chapter 9: sassy man apocalypse

chapter 10: done for

chapter 11: bye cornelius

chapter 12: jeanie

chapter 13: jumpscare warning

chapter 14: genius

chapter 15: chat i miss her so bad

chapter 16: unblock me?

chapter 17: i need a stunna girl

chapter 18: birthday boy

chapter 19: shits crazy

chapter 20: i plead the fifth

chapter 21: proud of u gang

chapter 22: war is over

taglist! <3 @lovelytayy @cyberkitty1 @sqlty @cr0quis @koreluvsspring @asp7n @lottiematthewsceo @shidousmainluvr @idontknowwhatnametochoosee @drugzforyou @astrokatsuki @crvzy-fujoshi @ncentic @ilyconnie @stellartoi @bubbabobabubbles @tee4str @magalimachete @10honeybee01 @dazaisfavgf @sheluvzeren @magalimachete @underatedwife @keondraaaa @violenthots

[paperstorm]

Somewhere in a Song

Rating: E Word Count (so far): 18500 Chapters: 15 Relationship: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Musicians, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling in Love, Past Drug/Alcohol Addiction, Closeted Character, Country Singer!Carlos, Rockstar!TK, canon typical violence, more tags to be added

Fresh out of rehab for drug and alcohol addiction, lead singer TK and his band Stranded are pushed into a tour he's not sure he's ready for. To combat the bad press from his very public hitting of rock bottom, his label suggests they take up-and-coming country singer Carlos along with them. Between TK's still healing wounds and closeted Carlos's fears that his parents don't support his musical career, a rocky start might turn into finding exactly what they both need.

Thank you to @herefortarlos for the beta, @actual-sleeping-beauty for song suggestions, and @bonheur-cafe for editing a cowboy hat onto Rafa's head ♥

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four

Playlist 🎼

[wordsofasarcast]

Couldn't resist drawing Popstar!Nico. Inspired by my own fic, Dolce Dissonance

It's not perfect, but I'm pretty happy with it for a speed paint - as happy as a perfectionist can be anyway. I will 100% be drawing Popstar!Will at some point to match, and probably more of Nico because this was too fun.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

OMG STEPH HELP I LOST MY FAV FIC

sherlock is a composer in 1700s 1800s Vienna, and he writes a requiem.

pls I need it It is an emergency

Hi Lovely!!

AHHH I thought I was recced this ages ago, and I searched all kinds of keywords on my MFL list and nothing is pinging for me as the one I think it might be...

Anyone able to help us out on this fic??

[phantomsies]

SACRIFICE + eren j. , chrollo l.

two musical geniuses, a jealous husband vs. an obsessed ex..and the alliance between them that you’d never thought you’d see.

📝: musician x influencer au, (this is an expansion of the original one, an au within an au), black fem reader, smut themes, implied threesome, this is an excerpt and it will make sense once I post the full fic. If nobody is fucking with the concept, we’ll just pretend this never happened 🌚

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

compromise…to settle a dispute by mutual concessions. To sacrifice and even bend for the sake of the greater good. Out of all of the intricate lyrics and enigmatic pieces composed by your husband, it wasn’t a word that had ever found mainstay in his vocabulary! For nothing, no one and especially not for a person whom he’d harbor resentment against. Or rather…hated their fucking guts with a passion! Extreme, but a far more accurate description. Although, you couldn’t blame him too much. After all, this was someone who reminded Eren not only of himself but of the harsh reality, that what once was…could always be again!

“Yeees, that’s it, gorgeous. That’s the pretty face I know..the same one you used to make when I was so deep inside of you..”

eyes trailing to the back of (y/n)‘s skull, those nimble fingers clawing into the dark silk sheets and your back raised from the mattress as your husband’s cock made what felt like permanent residence inside of those warm folds. The constant snapping of his hips with sporadic thrusts and that menacing smirk on his face: a sure fire sign that he had something to prove. He’d always fucked you like a rabid animal when he had a point to get across. When you’d angered him, when he missed you..and now, when your ex fling thought that he could make a return and swoop you out from under him. Too bad for him, that ship has long sailed and it was another man’s last name you were wearing these days. Not to mention the half a million dollar wedding ring. It was also your beloved EJ who couldn’t stop pulling orgasm after orgasm from that beautiful body..making you quiver and writhe in a fit of bliss whilst those delicious juices splattered his abs, the sheets and anything in its vicinity. The man who’d contorted your body until you folded and proceeded to drill that leaking pussy into full blown submission. All but etching his name on your insides to remind you who you belonged to. Hell, at this point, it was more consolation for himself more than anything.

“Don’t listen to that bastard, princess. Eyes on me…I’m the only one you need to focus on. Fuck him.”

but as that third climax neared and his thumb pad rolled around on your clit, Eren couldn’t help but to feel that your body was intertwined with his own but your mind resided somewhere else at the moment. That the other voice in the room had penetrated your psyche while he only held dominion over your flesh. It was a surefire way to piss him off, that was for certain. Because no matter how hard he grasped your hips, regardless of how far that fat, throbbing dick glided into you and stuffed that pretty cunt to the brim..no matter how many times you met his amazing strokes with the clap of that voluptuous ass, crying out to him for more and begging to let you squirt all over him as his rings pressed against your throat whilst tears, as well as a smile plagued your face. Or if he placed a foot on your head and fucked you reminescent of an animal as his new rival glared on. It didn’t make a difference how many times you called him ‘daddy’ or told him that he was making you feel so good; so tight that he felt as if his entire shaft was going to snap in half! Hell, you could shout to the heavens that it was all his. Anything to make him feel better..to console that already shattered ego of his. After all, it had to be pretty damn fragile to even entertain someone else when he was fucking the most beautiful woman either of them had ever laid eyes upon.

“How sad..even now, as our princess is about to come so hard for you..you can’t even grant her your full attention. And you think you’ll convince me that she’s in better hands with a man who’s so utterly selfish?”

because even as you centered his face to your own with a palm on his cheek and pleaded with him to look into your eyes as he stuffed you full of his seed..he too had accepted the fact that you were divided. Feeling defeated even now as you reach euphoria right underneath him. Because the man who had been viewing this salacious display..dark eyes glued to your nude bodies, fist clenched around that cock..stroking back and forth as veins protrude in his hands and precum seeped down the knuckles. His chest exposed as he stimulated those sensitive nipples..something his precious (y/n) had done so many times before. The man who felt more like a conductor to a salacious symphony rather than a helpless third party watching the girl he was once called his be fucked stupid by another guy..wasn’t interested in competing at all! Not when it came to music, awards shows, charts or even a seat at the proverbial table. And most certainly not for you. Even if it was a childish bet that had landed you here in the first place.

“Come now, pretty girl. Don’t hold back..you look as if you want to explode. It’s okay.”

and like that, rising to his feet ever so casually, he’d continue pumping that dick in his palm as he inched closer, snatching your face towards his own so that you could meet gazes like you did that first night you’d encountered one another. Eventually teasing the head against your plump lips and lobbing a trail of spit between them. Almost as if he wasn’t even in the room, as if it wasn’t his cock pleasuring you, (y/n) released at this man’s whim! As if he had trained you previously.

“Chrollo..” “That’s right..I’m here now, darling. Sorry to keep you waiting. Be a good girl for us and come. Don’t make him ask again.”

meanwhile, Eren could only glare as you made a mess of him, pawing at his abs and thanking him furiously for bringing you to ecstasy. But there was no need for ill will or hurt feelings. He wasn’t the enemy whatsoever. More so like an ally to his cause. Chrollo didn’t see the need in bickering when they could both enjoy you to their heart's content. When you desire them equally. A compromise. After all, it was what love and life were all about. And sadly, it didn’t seem he had a choice.

“You see, Eren. It’s what I’ve been telling you all along. If we work together, we can accomplish great things..I know our baby feels the same.”