#Rockstar and groupie AU

[pinksiames]

Me and @clevenhq are constantly cooking it’s crazy

Gale is a 24 year old groupie thats obsessed and follows the band John plays guitar in, knows all the songs by heart, has as much he could humanly buy, he is quite literally John’s biggest fan!

John is a 28 year old guitarist who plays in the band him and his best friend curt put together in high school, having sky rocketed and topped the charts within a few years of being in the industry. The sudden fame and money has definitely turned the man into a bit of a narcissist, only really thinking of himself until he keeps seeing the same face in the crowd.

The same pretty face with the dark hair that seems to be following them, given John and only John the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen and he is hooked. He ends up searching through show pictures of the crowd just to find one with a decent frame of the mystery boy, running it through google just to try and find out any information about him.

A few more shows go by, they’ve developed some kind of non verbal communication, giving each other little waves and smiles, maintaining eye contact while John does the hornest guitar solo known to man, practically fucking the instrument while looking at Gale. They end up hooking up a few times till the hooks of jealously get John and he can’t stand Gale being with anyone else but him, to the point he has Gale become a roadie so he can keep his eye on him.

Basically rockstar John and groupie Gale au 😋

Not even gonna lie I was listening to rockstar by nickelback when we were talking

[crimsonlovebartylus]

groupie regulus, wearing a mesh shirt and black leather shorts, and docs, leaving his long pale legs on full display, while wearing an exclusive all black penny lane or cheetah print jacket, leaning against the railing looking up at 80's Rockstar Barty Crouch Jr who's looking down at him with a smirk and hunger.

plot twist: they fuck and get married in vegas. fuck yeah the 80s.

[completelymindfucked]

This just in! Groupie touring with band, rumored to be lead singers brother!

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage Show Pt.5

★🎸 {} .. rockstar!hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.6k

synopsis. a game of body shots goes terribly wrong when things gets heated and hobie walks in on you. you two are forced to come to terms with your feelings

or

hobie gets jealous and fucks you

🍒・．❕warnings. bathroom sex, rough sex, jealous sex, body shots, sorta kinda cheating but not really since they aren't togeteher, claiming kink, writing on v, bathroom sex, oral (m recieving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, a whole lotta angst at the end, yall ain't ready for this

Backstage Show pt.4

Hobie Brown was always so sure of himself. He was sure in his pursuit of music as a career, sure in his bandmates and their ability to perform, sure in his own capabilities when it comes to nearly everything in life. He loved his life just as it was, the glamor, the weed, the alcohol, the fans. He was so sure that he adored it all.

But Hobie could not be sure of you.

He was initially interested in you because you were pretty and that hole between your legs could constitute a portal to heaven. You were nothing but a way to let off some steam before or after a show. A pretty little thing he could have on his arm just for him to make up for the fact that he was a horrible, lonely, asshole who used girls for his own pleasure because he was a self-sabotaging loser. And once the people he date finally figured that out and eventually left, he’d find someone new to bide his time with until the cycle continued.

And now he could not think of a world where you're not right there by his side. He can't imagine a world where you aren't his girl. Your loyalty was unmatched, your dedication, your silent worship every time you looked at the profile and his slender, beautiful face you simply wanted to run your fingers alone and kiss.

Did you know he wanted to do just the same? DId you know that he thought the world of you? The only difference between you and him was that he had the courage to do it, to rub his fingers upon your lips and trace your jaw where the tips of them touch? It's because you were always a little more his than he was yours. You'd never dare call him yours, never try to make him feel constricted in fear that he may ghost you. 

But because you were not necessarily his and he was certainly not yours. You thought it perfectly fine when Mace was in your ear as he usually was talking about doing body shots with the rest of them. His hands were holding your waist as he pulled you into his body and whispered in your ear that it’ll just be a “bit of fun, nothin’ serious”. You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel his lips curl against the shell of your ear.

You were hesitant at first, glancing over at Hobie who was talking to a roady about stage management, but gained the courage to go off with him and the others to lick tequila shots off of each other's bodies. Why would he not be okay with it? He let the others have their way with you, body shots would be where he crossed the line?

You sat down in the group and watched for a moment. They had gotten a couple of other groupies to play the game with them, shirts all removed as they lay back and let alcohol get poured on them. You were hypnotized by tongues, by the giggling, but the heated makeouts once they reached the top of each other's bodies, mouths seeking each other without discrimination.

They went around the circle, licking each other’s sculpted bodies until it was your turn. You were eager to try. You removed your shirt and layed on your back while Eli poured a shot on the curve of your diaphragm, trickling north and south very quickly before his mouth caught it. 

It was warm and hot, his mouth that is. Even hotter watching his tongue lap up your diaphragm and down your naval, eyes never leaving yours as you let out a shaky breath. He made his way down to the waist of your skirt and kissed the mound of your pussy before going back up to kiss you, the others cheering you on into depravity. You kissed him back, thinking only of Hobie's lips on yours, his hands on your body. 

Eli grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your bodies melding into each other much like clay. He smelled vaguely like Hobie, like smoke and musk but a different cologne. All you wanted as Hobie, Eli meant nothing to you but he knew how to make you feel good.

Then his voice manifested behind you.

"Wha' in the bloody fuckin' hell is this, then?" He reached between the two of you and pushed Eli away, your lips tearing apart from each other as you gasped and looked up at him. "Hobie– It's no-"

"Oh, don' gimme tha' bullshit. Come'ere." He did not reach for you, did not help you up, forcing you to sit in your embarrassment as you grabbed your shit and stood to your feet. Hobie grabbed your wrist and pulled you along with him out of the room and towards a nearby bathroom in the busiest part backstage. You held your shirt to your chest to cover whatever little modesty you had left as he put you in the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind the two of you.

His lips were on yours so fast you hardly had any time to comprehend it. It was rough, possessive, demanding all you had and more to offer. He swallowed your moans as you pushed your body against his and dropped your shirt to the ground. “Hobie–” You whined, begging for him to let you explain. His large hands were pulling your clothes off of you until you were just in your bra and your panties were partially pulled down your supple thighs.

“You must like sluttin’ yaself out, don’cha?” He picked you up with a surprising amount of strength and set you down on the sink. “Greedy lil’ whore. One just isn’t enough for you.” Hobie reached around in his pockets to find the marker he always carried around for autographs. Once he finally found it, he uncapped it with his teeth. “Guess I’ll haf’ta remind ya who you belong to.”

In great big, capitol letters, he wrote above the mound of your pussy like a tattoo, like an autograph ‘HOBIES PUSSY’. Hobie capped the marker and tossed it away somewhere before pulling you in and kissing you again with ravenous fervor. He was angry, he was jealous, you realized. 

The thought of him being jealous made your heart swell. Jealousy meant that in some way, he cared, even a little. You kissed him back, let him have his way with you as he licked and bit down the length of your body, your skin still tasting of tequila and bad decisions. You parted your legs a little further as he made his way towards where you needed him the very most.

His breath the warm, fanning along your outer lips, teasing what could be but never quite getting there. Hobie paused a moment and looked up at you. "Nah– you don' deserve i'. That's a privilege." He let you go, standing up and backing away. His body, once warm and covering your partially naked one, suddenly retreated from you and now all you know is the cold and humiliation. You ached. You wanted him badly, needed him.

"Hobie, please." You begged, hopping down from the sink, your hands coming to adjust your panties. His claim on your body still visible through the thin fabric of your underwear. "I know you're mad but it was just some stupid game. I wasn't actually gonna fuck him."

Hobie didn't say anything, didn't look at you from across the small bathroom you two were locked in. He was so good at making people feel unimportant, unheard. He was good at making people feel like they didn't exist in his presence. 

What if he told you he had never even looked at a single person since he first fucked you? Never placed his hands on another person other than to sign tits as some fans love when he did. People have flirted, men and women and everyone in between, but he brushed them all off. What's casual, one time sex when he has you there to offer him something so much more? Would that change what you said? Change the way you brushed it off as if it were nothing?

You got down on your knees in front of him, kissing the crotch of his pants where his cock lay half-hard and growing. "Please forgive me." Your words muffled as you spoke into his dick that was beginning to stir more and more. He was still pretending to ignore you but his body could not. It wanted you as badly as your body wanted him. "'m gonna make it up to you."

Your hands worked his assortment of belts and his jeans until his half-hard length sat before you, twitching with the rushing of blood. You spat into the soft palm of your hand and used that to work your hand up and down the length of his member, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive slit at the tip of his head.

He was hard in your hands in no time, a few short huffs leaving his nose as he attempted to deny himself the pleasure. You knew he would break soon, but it would take more than some feeble handjob to do it. You kissed the wet tip and parted your lips to let him sink into the hot wet cavern of your mouth, your tongue running along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

Hobie shuddered, finally looking down at you and the way your mouth wrapped around him. You took him as deep as you could go, a little more than halfway before your throat constricted and you gagged around him. You looked at him through teary-eyes you drew back, leaving his cock all wet with your saliva before pushing forward again. You bobbed your head at a steady pace, your hands braced against his thighs.

Oh– you sucked dick like a champ, slurping him up like he was an popsicle, looking him up with those big, innocent eyes of yours. You hollowed your cheeks for more suction, letting him go with a pop of your lips before taking him right back into your hot mouth.

Hobie hissed with pleasure, moaning softly as he reached down and gathered up your hair in his hands in some makeshift ponytail. “Jus’ like tha’. Nice, stupid slut, tha’s all ya are.” How his body shuddered for you, for those wet, plump lips of yours, for your tongue that ran over his slit over and over and drove him absolutely insane. He couldn’t stand you and the way you could make him crazy for you, for your mouth, your body, you in all your ways.

He forced you to go faster, pushed you a little further until his cock slid down the tight pocket of your throat. He selfishly took his pleasure in you, slapped your cheek lightly when you resisted him out of instinct. Your throat tightened around his cock and if he were to look underneath, he’d find the outline of his dick in your throat.

Hobie fucked your throat the way he wanted to, fast and deep until your nose met his pelvis and your saliva dribbled down his balls. You were nothing but a means for his pleasure, a way to get off, a sex toy. You offered yourself up to get back into his good graces, not wanting him to hold a grudge against you over some stupid game.

He fucked your throat raw, nice and deep, slowing down to give you a break, speeding up when you got too comfortable with the slow and steady pace. Hobie pushed you to your limits, fucked your mouth until you were lightheaded as hand to tap his leg to get him to give you a break. When he let you go, you broke away with a gasp, coughing as your lungs pleaded for air. Hobie grasped you, picked you up with overwhelming ease and set you back on the sink, tearing your panties away with a rip of fabric like it meant nothing to him. His signature on the top of your pussy spurred him on as he stroked his cock between the sopping lips of your pussy and sunk into you in one swift motion of desperation. 

You let out a gasp, shuddering at the feeling of his cock filling you so suddenly. His tip kissed your cervix before retreating and thrusting back into you. He gave you no time to adjust, no time to savor the feeling of him slowly inching his way into you. He was fucking you hard and fast and you were loving every moment of it. He couldn’t wait. He needed to be inside you, claiming you, owning you.

"Hobie! Mmh~" You moaned loudly enough for anyone outside of the bathroom to hear. It's just what he wanted, for everyone to know that you were taken, that you were his. He had your legs hanging on either side of his shoulders, toes curling behind his head as he brutalized your cunt.

The way he fucked you could only be described as abuse. It was ruthless, desperate, selfish. Hobie was not at all focused on your pleasure, if you happened to cum during all of this, that would not have been his goal, just a side effect. He was out for his own orgasm, he deserved it, you belong to him.

But did you really? He never applied labels. You were only his in his mind and you had only broken a made up rule he had kept in his brain. 

“Fuck! Ohh~ God, please…I–” Your voice was louder, hands grasping at anything and everything you could from the sink to Hobie’s neck. Your jaw hung open, lips forming a small ‘o’ shape. Your back was against the cool mirror and you wondered in the back of your mind what you looked like right now. Did you look like a whore? You imagined you did, with wild hair and smudged makeup. He probably thought you a slut, just making your rounds with his bandmates until you collected them all like Pokemon.

Hobie readjusted his grip on your thighs, his hold almost bruising as he nudged your jaw with his nose. "Look at i'. Look at the way I fuck you." Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands gripping the sides of the sink to brace yourself. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked down at the sight before you. His cock bullied its way into you, the lips of your pussy parted for him so nicely. Just above the mess he made of your cunt, a creamy, white ring sitting neatly at the base of his cock, was his signature, 'HOBIES PUSSY’. The words made you moan, made your head face back and your back arch as he fucked you up.

Only he could do you like this, have you screaming his name in the violent rush of an orgasm so everyone could hear the way he fucked you. The sound of him pushing into you was wet and creamy with the residue of an orgasm pulsing through you. Your body shuddered, your hands grasping at him, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer, teetering on the edge of tears. Your climax crashed upon you, left you desolate and destroyed and sobbing. 

He didn’t stop fucking you, didn’t slow down. “Look a’ me.” One of his hands grasped you chin and forced you to look him in the eye. You could hardly see him through the glaze over your eyes, the tears swelling then falling down your face, taking mascara and eyeliner with it. 

“You see wha’cha done to yaself?” You let out a cry as he gripped you tighter, fucked you harder, his pelvis rubbing against your aching clit with each thrust into your used up cunt. You could hardly take it, barely stand it. Your body scrambled to get away from the brutalization. Hobie held you down. “Why ya runnin’, luv? You said ya make i’ up t’me. Stay righ’ here and take this dick since ya so hungry to be fucked.” You could do nothing but take it, take the jealousy and angry way he fucked you. 

Hobie kissed you when he was close to orgasm. His teeth chewed softly on your bottom lips as he asked you to scream a little louder. You wrapped your body around his, kept you so close he could barely pull out enough to cum. He made a mess of you, coating the outside and inside of your pussy in creamy white.

“You’re such a fuckin’ was��eful, whore.” Hobie dragged his fingers through his cum and pushed it into your leaking hole, watching the white ring of cum forming at the base of his knuckles. When he pulled out his fingers, you slid down from the sink on shaky legs and reached for some toilet paper to clean yourself up while Hobie washed his hands.

There was a long stretch of silence as you got dressed. You couldn’t help but look at the curl in Hobie’s lip through the mirror. He was really upset about it and you figured you should say something to help the situation. You didn’t want any animosity between the two bandmates.

“It truly didn’t mean anything.”

Hobie turned off the water and flicked the water off his hands and he turned to look at you. “Is tha’ s’pposed to make me feel better? I walked in an’ you were shirtless, makin’ out with ma mate. What the fuck was I s’pposed to think. Aw nah, she’s jus’playin’? Come off i’.”

You didn’t understand why he was so upset. He always made it very clear that you two were nothing official. He was not tied to you and you were not tied to him and it didn’t matter either way. “I don’t understand, Hobie. Are we together or are we not because I’m tired of always following you around like a puppy dog wondering when you’d actually look at me as more than just a sex doll you can call up when you need to get your dick wet.” It came out so suddenly, your quiet anger, your silent resentment.

Silence once again. The two of you stared at each other for a long time. 

“I haven’t touched a single person since I first met you.” Hobie admitted, almost throwing it in your face. You scoffed at him. “That’s not fair, Hobie. You know that’s not fair. You always made it clear that we weren’t together. And I’ll have you know that before tonight, I haven’t been with anyone that you haven’t given me express permission to be with.”

“I’m not holding that against you, luv. You don’t even have to bring it up.”

“Then what do you want from me? Are we together or is it just casual? You’re giving me all these mixed signals. One second you’re ghosting me and the next, you’re talking about how obsessed you are with me. Hobie—” Your voice broke, choking on your own words as more tears dappled your messy cheeks. “Hobie, I love you.” You said it, you laid your heart out in front of you and gave him all the opportunity to crush it under his boot.

His lips twitched and he shook his head, placing his hand upon his temples. What did he expect? She hung on his every action, his every word because she hated him? She was in love with him before she ever even knew him. She was in love with him the moment he first interacted with him. She worshiped him like a god.

“It won’ last, babe.” He sighed. “I’m a fuckin’ dickhead an’ an asshole. I don’ do love. One day you’re gonna wake up and realize tha’ I’m not worth ya love or ya time.” He pushed you away because he couldn’t bear to wake up to that day where you don’t look at him with that spark in your eye or you don’t hang on his every word. He can’t face the day where he figures out that he’s in love and you’re not.

“That’s for me to decide.”

“Well, I’m makin’ the decision for ya. Piss off, would ya? I don’t fuckin’ love you ‘n I neva will.” Hobie flung you off with a dismissive wave of his hand like the beads of water that still clung to his skin. It was the period on the matter, the end all be all of this conversation. He left no room for further argument. He wanted you gone and that was that. Who were you to fight it?

So once you were all dressed, you opened the door and looked back at him, tears threatening you to show weakness. You would never give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. A young you would have begged on your knees. A naive you would have asked him not to turn you away. But you were better now, knew Hobie for what he really was and he was right, he was just some selfish asshole who could never love you.

“Go fuck yourself, Hobie.” 

[oneforthemunny]

groupie love |rockstar!eddie munson x groupie!reader|

prompt: the face of corroded coffin, eddie munson, has a reputation of being out there, rough, raunchy, leaving his fans and tabloids in a tizzy. after seeing him in concert, you try and become one of the lucky ladies he beds for the night. the night turns to one you'll never forget.

takes place before nepo baby!reader. kinda the backstory, lore of eddie and his raunchy ways lol <3

contains: bdsm themes, hard!mean!dom!rockstar!eddie, groupie!sub!reader, degrading, blindfolding, spanking, oral male receiving, big time exhibitonism, use of drugs, language, filthy filthy filthy. MINORS ABSOLUTELY DO NOT ENTER!!!! 18+

You bounced in your studded heels, fishnet stockings ripped around the toes, the aftermath of walking barefoot to try and get to the pit, jumping and screaming the angry, heavy lyrics with the rest of the audience. You'd shimmied your way through the drunken, inked up men, punching the air and screeching, adrenaline from the performance hot-wiring a new kind of rage. You couldn't blame them; the heavy bass shaking the stadium, the screams of the fans, and most importantly the band, Corroded Coffin, standing right in front of you, putting on a performance of a lifetime.

He was on his knees, so close to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with the reek of weed, booze, and sweat that exuded from the audience. Eddie Munson, bad boy, front man of the band, always shredding the guitar and grunting filthy lyrics into the mic. Parents around the world were repulsed with him, with the entirety of the band, their vulgar ways and even worse press, scandalous and obscene. It's what excited you, and millions of other horny, rebellious ragers- that was apparent with their album sales and the size of this stadium, sold out and rocking.

Their recent press had really stirred up a fury with the media. Eddie, along with Gareth and Nick, seen strutting out of a well known BDSM club in West Hollywood, some leather clad, desperate girl clutched to him, collar and harness on, his leather jacket covering the rest of her- furious red hand prints on her ass that showed through the paparazzi pictures.

They'd never been conservative, quiet about the kind of sex they had, rough and nasty. It's probably why they had a line of groupies waiting behind the venue after each show, hoping desperately that their manager would pick them to come backstage. That they too might get a chance to be used and abused by the rockstars, leaving on shaky legs to tell their friends unimaginable stories.

Eddie's eyes locked with yours. How you'd managed to get that close to the stage, sneaking in behind a burlier man, was beyond you. His tongue was out, lewd licking suggestions between two wiggling fingers that mimicked a 'V' shape. You grinned, winking back at him, sultry and flirty- the way they liked it, all rockstars were the same, after all.

Eddie smirked, eyes flitting to the next screaming desperate girl, picking up another lacy, thong that was thrown on stage. He pushed the crotch of the panties to his nose, eyes closed dramatically when he inhaled, the crows roared. "Whew, that is one sweet pussy right here." Eddie grinned salaciously into the mic, twirling the panties around his fingers.

"Y'all need to get a whiff, here," Eddie pulled the strings of the thong back on his fingers, a make shift slingshot that he launched into the crowd. The crowd bustled, fighting and tearing each other apart for the tiny piece of lace, Eddie laughing in amusement from the stand.

"Animals. I swear." He laughed, shaking his head, looking over at Jeff. "I love it." Eddie grinned, downing the water bottle of vodka beside him. "This one goes out to that sweet pussy out there, whoever you are. Here's Super Soaker."

You blushed, tummy twisting and erupting in butterflies. You looked around carefully, trying to eye the girl who's panties he'd claimed, a tinge of jealousy in your veins. What if he picked her over you? Maybe you should've thrown your panties on stage- Well, you would've if you were wearing any.

Under the nylon, black tights you were bare, for easier access. Tight, red, leather mini skirt that hugged and squeezed your ass deliciously. Your top, a black corset with hooks and zippers- you had to go to the seedy part of town, a run down sex shop, where you'd picked it out amongst the whips, masks, gags, and paddles that lined the walls. It made you clench, mind trailing back to the girl Eddie had on his arm in the tabloid. You picked up a little collar, black and snug, tossing it on top of the corset.

You hoped he'd see it and be reminded of that night. Not that he remembered the girl or much of anything- his coke blown eyes told you that- but the actions of the night. The handprints on her ass, his seed spilling down her legs, cheeks red and neck bruised with hickeys. You wanted that so badly you'd do anything for it. Your copy was worn, corners tearing where you clamped it, rubbing yourself furiously at night to the image, the thought that he might do that to you. You prayed he would.

The concert had ended nearly an hour ago, the bitter cold of the air outside the stadium left you shivering and shaking, clambered together with the other desperate girls near the backdoors. The large, black SUVs were still running and parked behind you, so you knew they were still in there. Your breath clouded and fogged in front of you, teeth chattering in the chill of the night, but you refused to cover up- that was rule number one. Which is why the three sweet, doe eyed girls next to you, covered and cozy in their coats, would be the first to get rejected.

"Alright, alright, back!" The door opened, a gruff looking man, dressed in all black and a shirt that read 'SECURITY' in white, blocked letters. "Make room, ladies! I know you're desperate, but c'mon, make a path!" He barked.

You pressed your lips in a hard line, huffing when you moved back, shuffling to create a very narrow path with the rest of the girls. Then you saw him. Wild curls, frizzed and puffed with the aftermath of the show, leather jacket and heavy boots stomping through the wet asphalt, the other five members following behind him. He didn't look up, lit cigarette between his lips, blowing air and ignoring the cries and pleads from the other girls, stomping to the car.

Your heart sank, smile dropping when they got in, not even so much as an arrogant grin or snarky comment; nothing.

A disheveled man in an opened button up, eyes blood shot and nose twitching scrambled out the doors, security beside him. He scanned the rows, then looking at the writing on a torn piece of paper, rubbing his nose furiously with a twitch.

"Ok, I need, you, you," He scanned the lines, eyes flickering back from the lists to all of you, lined up and desperate like call girls. Like this was an audition and you were chosen for a call back. "You, You-wait, not you, sorry, sweetheart. You, yeah in the red, and," He turned, eyes locking on yours bored, looking down at the paper, then back at you. "You," He nodded.

Your heart stopped, fists clenching and biting back an excited smile. The man didn't wait, shoving his hands in his coat pocket, and motioning to the security guard to let the chosen girls follow. "C'mon, quickly now. Once in a lifetime ladies. Let's go."

The six of you scurried behind him in a line, ducklings to a mother goose- a very coked out, manly, mother goose. Heels clacking against the asphalt, eyes cutting to each other with excited grins.

Your head craned over your shoulder, looking at the desperate girls who pouted and cried, envious glares shot towards all of you as you piled in the car. You pulled yourself in, hunching over to find a seat in the rows.

"Back there, sugar," The man from before pointed from the passenger seat. "Very back. Last row with Ed."

Your heart raced, ducking down to hide your smile, shimmying through through the small area towards the back. Each of the girls were cuddled up, close with their chosen member. A haze of smoke filled the van already, blunts and cigarettes blurring and clouding your vision.

"Hi there," Eddie greeted, brown eyes half lidded. He looked so cool, so calm, spread out in the seats, thighs wide and arm laid out down the length of the leather. You could see his inked skin, the tiny etchings and details you'd seen a million times, now more prominent.

"Hi," You grinned. "This seat taken?" You purred in a teasing tone.

Eddie took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash into the cup holder by the tinted windows. "All yours," His words poured out with the cloud of smoke. "Saved it just for you, baby."

You smirked, thankful the darkness of the van and the smoky haze concealed your blush, sitting next to him, close but not desperate. Thighs touching, but leaned back so you could see him, so he could see you.

"What's your name?" Eddie asked through slow drags of the cigarette. You told him, eyes batting and a little grin on your lips. He repeated it slowly, letting every letter, syllable roll slowly off his tongue.

"That was a killer show." You smiled. "One of the bests I've seen."

Eddie nodded slowly. "You see a lot of shows?" He asked, but you knew what he was implying. You do this often?

"Not all the time, but I've been to a few." You answered cooly. I'm experienced, but not a pro.

Eddie smirked, dimples deepening on the right side of his face. He bummed his cigarette, shifting so his hand was on your tight clad thigh, rolling high up towards the hem of your little leather skirt. "I appreciate you saying that. Glad you had fun." He purred, sweet.

You were shocked, intrigued. Most rockstars wanted you to smother them in praises, tell them how great they are, whether it was their performance on stage or through whiny cries in the back of the tourbus or hotel rooms about how good they were making you feel. Eddie didn't have to be nice to you. He had a million other options that would do anything to be where you were now, some of them even in the car with you, cuddled next to Nick or Darius.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks." You smiled, biting back a flustered blush. His hands were toying with your skirt still, fingers moving and traveling in teasing slow circles towards your hot center. It had you clenching, thighs squirming and pressing together. "It was really entertaining. You don't slow down, do you?" You grinned, teasingly.

His brow lifted, amused. "What was your favorite song?" He asked, fingers tickling the hem of your tights that ran through your slit, warm and damp.

"Hm, that's a tough one." You purred, breath stuttering with his movements. He'd done this before too, that was obvious. "Triple G is always my favorite. It was so cool to see live." You mewled, eyes batting towards him, hips grinding into his touch.

Triple G or Good, Giving, and Game was one of their raunchier songs. Risqué and vulgar from the newest album, all centered around the motto used in BDSM play (according to the expose piece you'd read in a gossip column). The track featured snaps of a whip in the background, and Eddie always brought out a crop or paddle on stage, swinging it around then throwing it into the audience when he sang the infamous lyric about "having his ways to make bad girls behave".

Eddie seemed to like your answer, brows lifting in amusement, but his eyes darkened int something sinister, it made you pulse. "Yeah?" Eddie asked, his thumb pressing hard through the material of your tights to your clit, making you whine and jump. "You GGG, baby? You even know what that means?"

"Of course, I do." Your voice wavered, not nearly as sincere and strong as you wanted it to be. You were melting under his touch.

Eddie hummed, blowing air from his nose. "I see a million girls like you, all dressed in this cute little leather stuff because it's what they think I like." His mouth was near your ear, breath tickling you, goosebumps covering your arms. His thumb was painfully slow, teasing you. "And I do. I think you look hot, 's why you're back here." He grinned.

You whimpered, grinding into his hand, eyes watching his wrist flex and rotate between your legs. "But are you really into it?" Eddie asked, eyes dark on you. His other hand grabbed your jaw, pulling you to look at him, noses brushing in the closeness. "Are you really Triple G, or you just looking to tell all your friends about how you fucked another rockstar? Another notch in your belt?"

Your head spun, heart hammering in your chest. His question was dark with an unfamiliar edge. Degrading and mean you could take- you'd been tag teamed by Nikki Six and Tommy Lee last summer- but this was making you falter. You supposed that's what he wanted, judging by his intense stare, thumb still mercilessly working you.

"You really game, baby?" Eddie purred, low and gruff, voice raspy from the show and the cigarette.

"I'm game." You croaked out, teeth clenched, coming closer and closer to the edge.

"That why you wore this little collar?" Eddie growled. "You want me to use it?"

"Yes, please." Your eyes rounded, biting down on your lip, toes curing. The coil in your tummy was getting tighter and tighter, his stare and fingers making you grow hotter, melting into his touch. "Please, sir." You whimpered, pathetically.

Eddie's eyes lit up, shocked or impressed, you weren't sure. Either way, you knew you'd done it. Sealed the deal. You'd finally get what you wanted, to be ruined by Eddie Munson.

"Oh?" Eddie grinned. "Alright, baby, alright." He purred, lips brushing your jaw, electrified under the light touch, leaving you shivering and squirming. "Let's see how game you are. How good you can get for me."

Eddie pulled his hand away quickly, falling back into his seat, legs spread, cock hard and straining against his pants. You gasped at the loss of touch, looking at him with betrayed, rounded eyes. "My first rule," Eddie reached for his lighter, tapping his pack of Marlboros against the heel of his palm, his eyes lifted to you darkly. "You don't cum without Master's permission."

You squirmed but nodded obediently, eyes trained on his growing erection. "Yes, Master," You muttered, the flick of the lighter and Eddie's inhale buzzing in your ears next to you.

Eddie smirked, lips curling around the cigarette for a long drag. "We're gonna have fun tonight, baby. I can tell."

The van ride was longer than you expected, but you were sure time was slowing down, inching and crawling because you were buzzing with excitement. Their hotel was in the neighboring city from the concert, hopeful that it would be concealed from badgering paparazzi or crazed fans.

Unfortunately for them, the flashing lights of cameras flickered, lining the front of covered entrance all the way to the door, hotel security lines with roped and pushing them back.

"Goddammit, Nelson, I thought you said we'd be good!" Gareth's open hand palmed slapped against the door.

"I thought we would!" Nelson, the coked out manager of the boy, exclaimed from the passenger seat. "I bet it was that little bitch at the venue. Fuckin' knew she heard. Probably called to make a buck." Nelson seethed.

Your eyes, wide and watching the flashes and screams of the paps as you pulled up. Eddie blew a cloud of smoke at you. "When we get outta here, you don't stop, you don't talk, you don't even fuckin' look at them, or this is ends here." Eddie threatened. "You just follow me. Don't try to be cute, or they'll get a picture of me leaving your ass at the doors. Make you the rejected girl for all these vultures to tear apart. Got it?"

You nodded obediently, heart hammering at the threat. Hotel security opened the doors to the car, helping each of the boys out, the cluster of girls that followed them. Nelson was out, screaming and threatening the paps, then berating the manager of the hotel at the door.

Eddie climbed past you first, not helping you out, but pausing so you could follow him, clambering with your head down, eyes trained on his heavy boots that pounded into the concrete with every step. The flashes were furious, blinding out of your peripheral. The hotel staff greeted you kindly, opening doors and ushering you towards the private elevator.

You were quiet, eyes still down casted. The elevator rose, dinging and climbing the floors until it reached the top. The boys scattered, grabbing their keys from Nelson with the playful threat to "behave".

Room 1029, the end of the hall, secluded from the rest. Eddie pushed the door open, watching you. You stood, waiting his command. He grinned, impressed. "Good," He grumbled, nodding towards the opened door. "Go in."

You padded in, looking around the large, extravagant room. Mini fridge stocked, fruit basket on the table, Eddie's things already inside, including a rather tempting black, leather case on the center of the made bed, constructing against the crips, white linens of the hotel sheets.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Eddie asked, arms crossed leaning against the counter of the small kitchen. His cigarette was dwindled, nearly gone. "Don't want to make you feel like you have to."

You nodded, shoulders shuddering gently. "Please, Master," You purred. "I want to please you."

Eddie grinned, stepping slow and calculated towards you. He cupped your face in his hands, and you could smell the nicotine on the tips of his fingers. "I give all my girls a safe word. In case you don't want to or it gets too much. You say it, we stop." You nodded obediently. "Bat." He said simply.

You fought the tinges in your expression that wanted to smile, pressing and rolling your lips. "Bat?" You repeated.

Eddie nodded firmly. "You say that, we stop, no questions asked, no judgements. Got it?"

You nodded, heat pooling deep in your belly. You hadn't expected it to be this intimate, personal. He really was a pro, more than a flashy, bad boy using this angle for his image.

"So tell me," Eddie's fingers ran down your cheeks, towards your lips. "What do you think about when you put this on? What do you think about me doing to you?" He whispered, thumb pulling your bottom lip, soft and plush.

You shivered. "I-I saw the pictures in the magazine." You admitted, feeling the pad of his thumb across your cheek bone. "The girl you were with coming out of the club. She-She..." You whimpered, his left hand creeping down your jaw, massaging it lightly.

"She what?" Eddie pushed, dark eyed and intense.

"She looked... wrecked." You shuddered at the admission, swallowing thickly when his fingers ghosted, feather light and teasing over your throat.

"And you want that?" Eddie pressed, lifting a brow. "You want me to do that to you, too?" You nodded furiously, his thumb circling your pulse point on your neck, feeling your rapid heart beat under his touch. "You want me to ruin you like that?"

You whimpered behind closed lips, nodding furiously, blushing under his gaze. You were still closed but you felt so exposed, so seen.

"Or do you want me to show you off after too?" Eddie pressed, lips curling into a snarl. "Want me to parade you around after, show everyone what I did to you so some other needy little thing will get off to those pictures too?"

"Please," You whined out, core throbbing.

"That what you want, huh? Want everyone to see?" Eddie teased you, mean and calculated, his grasp around your neck tightening just lightly, cutting off your air supply.

You gasped a little, but kept your hands by your side, your eyes still on him. Eddie squeezed tighter, snarling at you. "I asked you a question."

You wheezed, mouth opening to get air in. "Yes," You rasped. "Please, Master."

Eddie let go of your throat with a shove, stomping towards his bed. "Strip. Everything but that pretty little collar." He ordered, opening the fastens on the case.

Your hands trembled, excited and anxious, unzipping your skirt, shoving it until it was a puddle on the floor beneath you. You kicked off your heels, yanking down the straps of the harness and squeezing it over your frame, tights following. You kicked your discarded clothes into the corner of the room, eyes trained on Eddie, the satin, rolled bag on display in front of him.

Eddie's gaze lifted to you, shirt discard showing you his porcelain skin littered in tattoos, his scars that some had tried to cover. He lifted a ringed hand, motioning you forward with two fingers.

You took a step before he huffed. "Crawl." He barked.

You lowered down to your knees on shaky legs, hands and knees moving against the ivory floors towards the carpeted bedroom. You kneeled in front of Eddie, eyes up and awaiting his next instruction.

Eddie's hand cupped your jaw, rolling it so he could better see your face. "Such a pretty thing," He purred. You blushed furiously, biting back a smile. "Stand up, arms behind your back."

You stood slowly, barely steadied before Eddie clasped your folded hands, pushing you face first towards the bed. You barely registered the cool metal on your wrists before you heard the click, cuffs biting into your skin, closed tight and hard around you, binding you.

You lifted your head out of the pristine linens, the smell of bleach and laundry detergent filling your nose. Eddie's hand found your hair, yanking your hair tight by your scalp, tipping your head back to him.

"You gonna be a good little slut for me?" Eddie growled, his free hand rubbing roughly down your ass and thighs. "Gonna do what Master says?"

"Y-Yes, Master," You shuddered, clenching when his hand swiped through your slick folds.

Eddie hummed. "What's the safe word?" He challenged, fingers working on your clit.

You bit back a moan, squirming against the bed. "Bat." You answered, hips rocking towards his fingers.

Eddie grinned, letting go of your hair, pulling his other hand out of your aching pussy. "Good." He smirked, smacking your ass hard.

You gasped, shockwaves flooding into your aching core, leaving your sighing out contently, raising on your toes to arch your back further, silently asking for more.

Eddie scoffed, rummaging through the black container again. You weren't sure if you were allowed to look, opting to keep your eyes forward, leaning up just a bit to see into the mirror on the dresser. You could see Eddie, wild curls and bare chest, hunched over his menacing black box of what appeared to be toys.

You saw him move closer, feeling his presence behind you. "Here, I'll take care of your wandering eyes." Eddie growled, back skull patterned bandana in his hand. He spread it between his hands, stretching out the folded material and bringing it over your eyes, your vision going black. You recognized the material, usually tucked under his bangs as a make shift headband on stage, now tied around your head, leaving you reeling and tingling with anticipation.

Your vision was blacked completely, Eddie's hand on your back suddenly making you jump with anticipation. His touch was soft, light, teasing and tracing all the way down your spine.

"So," Eddie purred. "You're a professional star fucker, hm?"

You shivered under the touch, fists clenching behind your back. "Something like that." You sighed, breathy and airy.

Eddie's hand cracked down on your ass, leaving you yelping and lifting with the impact. Eddie hummed, fingers swiping between your legs. You gaped, shoving your face into the sheets to try and conceal your sounds.

"Seems like it." Eddie scoffed, pumping his fingers slow in and out of you, your slick coating his fingers easily, slipping further and further inside you.

You moaned, hips swirling in pleasure, grinding further and further onto his hand. His thumb circled your clit. "Any other rockstar fuck you like this?" Eddie asked lowly. "Or am I the first one?"

You gasped, the heat in your tummy was building quickly, much faster than you expected. Now with the blindfold and the restraints, you were sure you'd come soon.

"P-Please, Master," You whimpered, whining high pitched and nasally. "Oh, fuck, please may I cum? Please, 'm so close."

Eddie's fingers kept pumping at the same pace, thumb circling your clit without any signs of letting up. "Hm, let me think about it..." He sighed dramatically, mocking. You couldn't see his face but you could picture his salacious smirk, dark and unfair.

Your thighs clenched, waves of pleasure already beginning to flood your system, teetering you closer and closer. "Oh! Please, please, please, Master, please let me cum, please!" You begged, writing to escape his touch, grip unforgiving even as you closed around his hand.

"Hold it," Eddie hissed into your ear, hair tickling your neck. Your thighs trembled, clenching shut, body twitching with pleasure. "I said, hold it. You better not cum if you know what's good for you."

Your eyes pinched shut under the bandana blindfold, jaw clenching so hard you were sure your teeth would crack. He was making you feel so good, too good. You knew you wouldn't last.

"Ah-ah, fuck, please let me cum!" You squealed, back arching, a last resort to try and get away from his fingers that teased you, free yourself from the orgasm you were so close to having.

"I don't think you deserve it." Eddie grunted, his chest dropping on your back to keep you from moving. You could feel his hot skin on yours, smell the remnants of sweat mixed with spicy cologne. It only made you hotter, small whimpers leaving your lips, pathetic and begging.

"You think you deserve to cum? A little slut like you?" Eddie pressed, his teeth grazed the lobe of your ear, biting around your dangled earrings, pulling at the flesh so you cried out. It sent you over the edge, your body convulsed, gushing hard over his fingers.

You heaved, falling into the mattress, body quaking with the shockwaves of pleasure. Eddie's fingers didn't leave you, pumping hard and punishing into you, the vulgar squelch your pussy made around his fingers filling the room, mixing with your breathy cries and the buzz of the radiator.

Eddie tsked behind you, his fingers making you squirm, overstimulated from his touch. You shuddered when he did finally pull them from you. "Oh, now why'd you do that, hm?" Eddie cooed, mocking and mean.

You could hear him move behind you, clatters and rummaging through what you assumed was his box. Eddie's boots were muffled on the carpet, but still hard and menacing when they came towards you.

"I told you not to cum, and what did you do?" Eddie sighed. You whimpered, feeling his sigh of disappointment on your shoulder blades, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

Cold, leather rubbed across the globes of your ass, making you jump, gasping loudly enough for Eddie to hear. His mouth was next to your ear, ringed hand pressing on the small of your back. "I'm gonna make you regret that, honey." He purred.

Your only warning of what was to come was the soft taps on your upturned cheeks, before the leather paddle cracked down right in the center of your backside.

You cried out, back arching, bound hands clenching into white knuckled fists. Your senses barely had time to register, pain just setting in before another searing swat came fast and hard to your left cheek, then again to your right.

You bucked, hips shimmying to dodge each hit, but your pussy ached, filled again with that desperate, deep need and want you craved.

"Wanna be a bad girl?" Eddie grunted, another resounding smack! of the paddle colliding with your ass. "I'll show you how I treat bad girls."

You sobbed, tears heaving the itchy cotton of the bandana. Your arms wrested to get free from the handcuffs, to reach down and stop the assault on your behind, but were stopped by the metal digging into them.

"Yeah, you wanna act like such a bad girl, such a little whore." Eddie seethed, paddle swinging and striking your red, angry cheeks.

"You want to go tell everyone about how Eddie Munson fucked you? Make sure you tell him about how I fucking ruined you. You got that?" Eddie growled, spanking you hard, sending you flying further into the bed with a gasp. "Tell that to your friends, sell that story to the tabloids. Tell them all about how I handle bad girls."

You sobbed, abs clenching and pleasure rolling through your body again, the final hit close to your center, making your legs shake. Eddie scoffed, mocking and mean, but he set the paddle down, threw it on the floor with a loud thud.

"How you doin'?" Eddie asked lowly, hands smoothing, squeezing and kneading your hot flesh.

You shuddered, sniffling hard. "G-Good." You cried, thighs rubbing together.

"Good." Eddie repeated, you could practically hear his dimpled grin through the words. The kiss he gave to your right cheek was unexpected, wet and loud, making you jump slightly, staggering back into his touch.

Metal on metal scraping behind you, then your right hand was free, falling onto the clean linen beneath you. You rolled your wrist only for a second before Eddie rolled you, sore ass colliding with the cool sheets. You recoiled, hips lifting, only for his hand splayed on your tummy to push you back down.

"You took that beating well." Eddie purred, pulling your free hand in front of you. "Better than some of the girls at the Hellfire Club, and they're supposed to be professional. Maybe you should go work there."

You grinned, glad the bandana covered your blushing cheeks under the compliment, but you were sure he could see it on your exposed chest. "Thank you," You sighed.

"I'll call Marco, the manager. Put in a good word for ya." Eddie quipped, the handcuffs snapping back onto your wrists just as tight as before.

Eddie pulled up forward by the metal chain between the cuffs, your legs steady and unsure when you stood, legs shaky, following blinding behind him, his guiding hand on your cuffs. "After this, you'll have a hell of a resume." Eddie's voice was teetering on the edge of playful and something dark, salacious. "They'll be beggin' to have you in the dungeon."

The sound of the sliding door, squeaky and heavy through the hinges could be heard, the cold gust of the air on your chest, nipples pebbling hard.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Eddie asked, his hand gentle on your hip. You could hear the sound of the paparazzi, clambering and shouting beneath you, arguing with hotel security and each other. "Last chance. Call it and we go inside."

You shuddered, pulsing between your legs though your heart hammered in your chest. "It's alright." You said quietly.

Eddie adjusted the bandana, pulling it further to cover your eyes and some of your nose, hand cracking down on your ass. "Good girl." He growled, pulling your cuffs behind him.

"Hey!" Eddie yelled, a loud, piercing whistle following. You froze, body stilling and breath catching. You were doing this, you were actually doing this. "Up here, you bastards!" Eddie roared down to the paparazzi below. "Here's your money shot!" He cackled loud, electrified like he was on stage down at them.

You grunted softly, pulled over the cool concrete, then pressed forward onto the cold, wet steel, your hands leaning over the rail. It hit just below your ribs, sending you forward just slightly, Eddie's hand steadying you on your hip.

You could hear him shoving his boxers down to the middle of his thigh, condom wrapped crinkling before his erection was flush, rubbing against your ass through the latex. "Give 'em a show for me, alright, baby?" He purred in your ear, before you were bent over.

You could see the faint, blinding flashes through the material of the blindfold, the roars and clambering of the paparazzi beneath you as they screamed frantically, deafening. You gasped loudly when Eddie pushed in, hard and quick, filling you swiftly with no warning.

Your head tipped back, crying out when his hips were flush against yours, barely giving you anytime to adjust before he was fucking you hard. Unrelenting, fast thrusts that had you crying out, sobbing and moaning beneath the bandana, handcuffed hands balled over the rail.

Eddie's free hand went to your jaw, grabbing tightly as his other stayed on your hips, balls slapping hard against your abused ass. His face was next to yours, cheek to cheek. "Yeah, this what you want? This what you want, you sick fucks?" Eddie mocked them loudly. His tongue licked a long, wet stripe down the side of your face.

You cried out loudly, mouth stretching and contorting around his ringed grip, bottom lip tucking between your teeth dramatically. You didn't need to play it up this much, it really did feel that good, but Eddie told you to, so you did.

You clenched hard around him, squirming into his touch. "'M close," Eddie muttered in your ear, before his hand moved, tracing lightly over your collared neck, squeezing your throat lightly. You gasped, clenching hard around him. "Fuck, keep doing that, baby." Eddie growled, fingers pressing further into your neck.

The paparazzi never quieted down, shutter of the cameras and flashes never stopping, but they seemed to wash away, drowning out when you fell forward, hard metal rail cutting into your ribs. You laid limply, whimpering and crying as Eddie fucked you, hard and fast, his face still against yours and his hand still around your neck.

You heard him groan, low and guttural in your ear before he slowed, hips rocking to a slow stop, hand dropping from your neck. You fell limp against the rail, Eddie's hand pulling you back. Your legs were weak, knees falling and colliding onto the hard cement. Eddie laughed wildly back at the crowd, taunting them some more while you tried to catch your breath.

"Here," Eddie whispered, bent down with a hand on your shoulder. He helped you up, slow, before you felt the familiar ivory on the ground instead of the cement, hearing the closing of the sliding door.

"That was pretty sick, honey." Eddie laughed. Your blindfold was falling down your nose. "You can take that off. We're done now."

You pushed the soaked, black fabric over your eyes, letting it rest on your sticky forehead. Eddie stood by the balcony doors, cigarette back between his lips, dimpled grin on his face. "I gotta say, you impressed me." He shrugged. "Didn't think you'd really be down with it."

You let out a breathy laugh, smile lopsided. "What can I say? I told you I was game." You said sweetly, eyes glassy and dazed.

Eddie grinned, blowing the smoke out slowly through his nose. "There's a car for you 'round back, so the vultures don't see you alright? Unless you want them to, whatever you want." Eddie shrugged.

You sighed, legs shaky, and skin burning with every step. You reached for your corset, pulling it up your legs, hissing when it touched your sensitive flesh. "I'm serious about the Hellfire Club or even the White Lotus Lounge," Eddie said, arm propped in a lean by the doorway. "You'd be really good down there." He grinned, dark and suggestive.

"I might take you up on that." You smirked, zipping your skirt up. "Will you be my reference?"

Eddie snorted. "After that? Fuck yeah." He grinned. You reached for the bandana around your neck, pulling it off and reaching to give it back to him. Eddie shook his head, ashing his cigarette on the floor lazily. "Nah, you keep that. You earned it." He winked.

You blushed, rolling your eyes lightly. "Thanks for this, and the show tonight. It really was great." You padded to the door, heels and bandana in hand.

Eddie walked towards you. "Thanks, means a lot." He smiled. "This was fun too, by the way. Real fun."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." Eddie smirked. "Don't be surprised when I sing about it on my next album."

You snorted lightly. "I'll be looking forward to it." You smiled, opening the hotel door. "See ya later, Eddie. Best of luck with everything."

"You too, sweet heart." Eddie winked, leaning out the doorway. He watched you pad towards the private elevator, legs still a little wobbly. "You make sure you talk nice about me to those tabloids alright?"

You laughed, pressing the elevator button. "I would never." You bantered. "I never kiss and tell, baby." You purred playfully, winking back at him. The elevator dinged, and you stepped on. "Thanks for a good time, Eddie. Have a good one." You called through the closing doors. Eddie grinned wide, inhaling the cigarette deeply before shutting his door.

The next day, the tabloids were booming, buzzing with the pictures of the bad boy rockstar and his mystery woman, fucking wildly on the hotel balcony. The buzz from the press was enough to have the media talking about Corroded Coffin for months, selling out most of their shows, and scoring them more covers of gossip columns than they knew what to do with.

It was good for you, too. You got to brag to your friends that you were Eddie Munson's infamous 'Balcony Babe' (the name was questionable, but the song made the top 100, appearing on the album like Eddie told you). A history making, raunchy hookup the world would never forget.

[n33dlew0rk]

Inspired by the song below 🌸

Steve and Robin deciding they need to have some semblance of a normal college student life instead of spending every night watching movies together eating popcorn on their couch. So they resolve to go out on a Friday and end up in a club not knowing there would be live music. They queue outside and raise a skeptical eyebrow when paying what looks like a very overpriced ticket, but they never go out so they think it's normal even if unfair and then find themselves front row for this up and coming band debuting their first full album live.

Enter this very technical very only instrumental, very genre-bending band with hot-as-hell guitarist Eddie "nimblefingers" Munson shredding like there's no tomorrow. But wait they have a feat. with another young alt/hyperpop artist called Chrissy who incidentally is also Eddies's bff, incredibly cute and totally Robin's type.

Steve will have his eyes glued to Eddie's hands for the entire show and Robin will nearly faint as soon as Chrissy says that breathy "fuck" at the end of the first verse.

Steve and Robin will later agree that they both never felt less straight than that night, that being a groupie is not that bad if you're older than 21 and consent, end up top listeners to both artists at the end of the year with jointed fan accounts on all social platforms and will never miss another gig manifesting vip passes everytime the band does a giveaway on IG.

[onsunnyside]

just started watching almost famous and immediately shipped to you inbox.

movie is good so far! but having a hard time focusing when all i can think about is 70s!ari and being his favorite groupie, OR his little pornstar while he’s my producer, AND SO MANY OTHER TROPES I LOVE THE 70S ERA

i've never seen almost famous but I searched it up and it looks interesting !!

WAIT LET ME KITH YOUR MIND BC: 70s rockstar!ari showing up to the hottest events with his favourite groupie on his arm, dressed to the nines and you’re proudly wearing a chain with his initial on it. hollywood's sleaziest rockstar is in an unofficial official relationship with you, the girl who went from a nobody following around his band to his muse, an it girl !! to quote curtis in karma: you're his fucking pornstar.

[the-chains-are-the-easy-part]

CC Art Challenge ✨

Here we are, me and @eyecandyeoz with our art challenge! A chance for everyone to experiment with their art.

This is my entry for fourth prompt:

Groupies

First of all, some context: in my AU Ventress used to play guitar in Crimson Dawn, Maul’s band, but after he kicked her out, she decided to team up with Maul’s mortal enemy, Obi-wan of course, and found a new band called “The Order”. The line-up is: Obi-Wan/rhythmic guitar, Anakin/lead guitar, Kit Fisto/drums, Ahsoka/voice, Ventress/bass. So, it seemed utterly legit to draw a togruta groupie having her titties autographed by Anakin and Kit cause that’s the extact same thing I would do in her place. Also to me this challenge perfectly captures the meaning of the “tell me you have no art style without telling me you have no art style” but since I’m doing this just for the sake of my hyperfixation I’ll be self indulgent.

You are all very welcome to partecipate to this!

You can reblog this post or Candy’s submission here to submit your own entry and see more art under the tag #cc art challenge

So, if you want to join the creativity rampage, this is the next prompt 👇

Limelight

It can be really anything! Any fandom, any medium, any concept, and there is no schedule, so feel free to post whenever you want. The whole point of this is draw and have fun!

[greyghoulclub]

Rock you like a hurricane

Au where Eddie is a famous rockstar in the 90s and Billy is a groupie for Corroded Coffin. They meet after a show in Cali and Eddie gets his shit schlonked silly.

Characters: Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson

Ship: mungrove (Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson)

Fandom: Stranger Things

r-18, Billy antis DNI.

San Diego 1993, 

Corroded Coffin was one of the biggest bands of the relatively unknown Indiana metal scene. They had exploded onto the scene with big hits like, “Bat from Hell” and “Stressed, Depressed, Possessed”. This was in no doubt helped by their charismatic frontman Eddie Munson. The man was a demon on the guitar, with endless energy that some wondered what he was on and if they could have some.

Billy had, by some miracle, managed to get tickets to the very quickly sold-out San Diego show. He sometimes had to pinch himself to remember that it was real and he was going. 

“You just have a crush on the guitarist,” Max had remarked when they had met for coffee. Although Billy had vehemently denied it, the redhead raised a knowing eyebrow. “Don’t think I haven’t seen the shrine you have in your bedroom.” 

Billy choked on his coffee, “It’s not a shrine! It’s just a couple of posters, Max,” he knew he couldn’t really get one over on Max, she knew how to read him too well. 

“Yeah right, and I’m the queen of England. What’s the big deal? They’re just a band.” Max downed the last of her coffee and looked to Billy for an answer to her question. Billy did not have one. “I knew it.”

Max, for all her teasing, did genuinely care for her brother and was never malicious. She left a twenty dollar bill on the table and grabbed Billy’s arm, “to get you ready to see your crush” she had said. 

****

The crowd was already swarming around the stage of the venue, anticipating the arrival of the band. Most were decked out in merch, leather, and battle jackets. Billy was about four rows from the barrier but he was ready to fight his way to the front if needed. His hands shook as he tried to get a flame going on his zippo, he swore under his breath as he tried again. 

“Here,” a voice said to his right and offered their lit cigarette so Billy could use the tip to light his own. 

“Thanks,” he grumbled, taking a drag and feeling the nicotine hit settle into his system. 

“No problem Blondie,” the helpful stranger replied and walked towards the stage. From behind, Billy could’ve sworn it was Eddie Munson. 

****

A guitar squealed from the direction of the stage, the supporting band starting their set, one of the bands from the local circuit. Billy tapped his foot in time with the music, not really paying attention. His gut was swarming with butterflies from maybe talking to Eddie Munson, and ok it might have been just what he would’ve said to anyone else who was having problems with a lighter but he called him Blondie. Surely that meant something right? Was he thinking too much into this? Probably. Is he going to think about that when he jerks off when he gets home? More likely than you think.  

Before he knew it, the supporting band were done, and Corroded Coffin was taking the stage. Eddie swaggered onstage with the confidence that was only reserved for rockstars. He was wearing ripped black jeans and a Black Sabbath tank top with a chain around his neck. Billy was sure he was wearing eyeliner too. Not enough to be obvious but you could see it if you paid attention. 

“Hello, San Diego!” he yelled into a microphone. The crowd yelled back with just as much enthusiasm. The excitement in the air was palpable. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin!”

“I love you Eddie!” someone in the crowd shouted out. 

“I love you too! Now, are we ready to get this show on the road?”

The crowd screamed as the opening drum beats of ‘Upside Down’ started, and the lights around the stage dimmed to red, bathing the band members in a ghoulish hue. Eddie’s fingers flew over the frets of his guitar, his iconic custom NJ warlock, Eddie was in his element. A born performer, side gig in making panties fall to the floor. 

Billy had been shoved to the front by some bigger guys that had been behind him, and he would’ve turned to kick their teeth in if they hadn’t given Billy such a good view. He was within arms reach of the stage and Eddie’s eyeliner was even hotter close-up. Of course, his horny brain took over and thought of the ways that he would mess up that eyeliner, and have it drip down Eddie’s face as he gagged on his cock. 

Yeah, that was a thought for later. 

While Billy was thinking about the things he’d do to Eddie, he didn’t see Eddie looking back at him.

****

The rest of the show was high energy, high noise, and some high people. Billy had seen a few blunts be passed about. He had declined himself on the fact that he had to drive home. As the rest of the crowd filtered out of the venue, Billy stopped to lean on the wall to have a smoke. He crushed the empty box in his hand, he could probably scrounge up some change to buy some more. 

“Hey, Blondie,”

Billy turned to see who was speaking to him and nearly dropped his lighter when he saw who it was. Eddie Munson. 

“Uh, hi? Needing a light?” he offered his zippo to the other man. 

Eddie laughed and waved away the lighter. “Nah, I’m good, I’ve got a different proposition for ya Blondie.”

“Huh?”

“I saw you looking during the show,” Eddie was now very close to Billy and he wasn’t sure if he was happy or if he wanted to anxiety vomit. The frontman of his favourite band is schmoozing him? That’s what it was wasn’t it? 

“So I’m thinking that you like what you see, and well so do I,” Eddie ran his finger down Billy’s chest, toying with the undone red shirt he was wearing. “You wanna come round the back with me?”

Billy didn’t need telling twice. 

****

Eddie pushed Billy against the wall, kissing down his neck, knee in between Billy’s legs. Billy groaned, wanting to grind against Eddie’s leg but Eddie had him pinned. 

“God, you’re so hot.” Eddie answered with biting into the groove between his shoulder and neck. Pleasure and pain in equal amounts that had Billy’s head spinning. 

“Ah ah Blondie I didn’t say you could touch yourself yet,” Eddie grabbed Billy’s hand away from his groin. 

“C’mon man I’m dying here,” Billy whined. Eddie had a devilish glint in his eye and was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Oh wow, you are kind of a brat Blondie. Maybe you should do less talking and more sucking yeah?” Eddie said as he started to pull his hemline down, revealing a dark snail trail that got Billy all sorts of excited. 

“Goin’ commando cause you knew you were gettin’ some?” Billy teased, if Eddie said he was a brat, then by god, he was gonna be a brat. “And my name is Billy, by the way.” 

He was rewarded with a slight tug on his hair, not enough to hurt but enough to rile him up. He dropped to his knees, and opened the fly to Eddie’s jeans. He started to suckle on the tip drawing a moan from the back of Eddie’s throat, growing more confident he started taking the length into his mouth, tongue working the underside.

“So good man… so good,” Eddie tilted his head towards the night sky, hand covering his mouth to muffle his moans. 

Billy stopped for a second, but still fondled Eddie’s balls. “I wanna hear you, that shit’s hot.”

Eddie considered it before putting his hand on the back of Billy’s head and thrusting back into his mouth. Billy gagged as the tip hit the back of his throat. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes but he didn’t stop as now he was hearing those goddamn sinful noises from Eddie. 

“God, you’re so good… Seen you at other shows in Cali, should’ve brought you back to the bus earlier.”

Billy gripped onto Eddie’s thighs for dear life, Eddie was thrusting harder, faster, absolutely wrecking his throat. He was drooling everywhere but he didn’t care, he was gonna cream his jeans if Eddie kept going like this. 

“Got those pretty dick-sucking lips,” Eddie grunted out, he was close now, he could feel the pressure building in his abdomen. “I’m gonna.. Gonna cum.”

Eddie let out a howl into the night as he came down Billy’s throat, Billy swallowed every drop. Eddie felt like he had no bones in his legs as Billy zipped him up and got off his knees. 

“So what was that about taking me back to the bus?”

[jihyocentric]

I got a sudden thought

Imagine rockstar au nahyo singing a cover of Lana del Reys Brooklyn Baby, ofc changing the male proununs for female ones

Like you know that final part where the male and female voices overlap, imagine nahyos voices overlapping as they sing "yeah my girlfriend's pretty cool, but she's not as cool as me"

Maybe even Jihyo doing Lana's parts and Nayeon as the back vocal

It doesn't even need to be them

I just need a wlw couple doing that part so bad

(also I love kitten hyo so much)

rockstar au jihyo is an introvert (which is funny because lately jihyo has been trying to convince us that mbti is a thing and that she's a raging extrovert but i'll let this subject for another time for jihyo's sake) so i can't see her even stepping on a stage let alone singing in front of anyone that isn't nayeon, but it's canon that nayeon sometimes has solo stages and sings for her! it's nayeon's favorite way to make jihyo flustered and this song is quite fitting 🥺

[nichmeddar]

carlos sainz

# CS55 — GROUPIE LOVE !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ being an f1 driver is just a job for carlos, being your groupie is his true passion.

002. NOTE !

✯ when i say i loved this request, i mean it. im trying to be more productive with actually making fics and not just let them collect dust in my drafts so bear with me!

liked by francisca.cgomes, troyesivan and 758,341 others

yourusername lisbon you were crazy! see you next time 🖤

view all 11,379 comments

carlossainz55 Hot 😍🔥🌶️

liked by yourusername and 62,943 others

carlossainz55 Mi hermosa esposa ❤️

⤷ yourusername mio bellissimo marito

carlosfan1 THE CHILIS OMG

ynfan1 what an incredible show honestly

ynfan2 only rockstar ever tbh

carlofan2 literally mother

ynfan3 it was CRAZY seeing her live

⤷ ynfan4 no fr best experience of my life

ynfan5 carlos sainz you better watch your back.

carlosfan3 the chilis make me go feral

ynfan6 BELLISIMA

liked by ynfan21, carlosfan21 and 64,059 others

ynupdates yn and her husband, carlos sainz, chilling in mallorca ahead of her shows in madrid! (05/10)

view all 961 comments

ynfan22 crying at how carlos is following her around because of his f1 break😭

ynfan23 how did he bag her…

⤷ carlosfan22 he’s literally carlos sainz…

⤷ ynfan23 okay but she’s THE yn ln!

carlosfan23 oh to be in mallorca with carlitos

ynfan24 can’t even see her face but she’s serving

ynfan25 best couple of the century

carlofan24 no other wag is doing it like her

⤷ ynfan26 girl she’s ABOVE wag status… if anything carlos is her wag (groupie)

yourusername updated their instagram stories!

liked by jensonbutton, alex_albon and 1,820,763 others

carlossainz55 Took a break from f1 to become her groupie

view all 27,312 comments

yourusername the best groupie ever

⤷ carlossainz55 And hopefully the only one 😊

⤷ yourusername yes, amore mio

carlosfan31 CUTIES

ynfan31 when i’m in a competition for yn’s greatest fan and carlos shows up 😰

carlosfan32 “kiss you soon” oh. my. god.

scuderiaferrari Are you returning to your job or…

⤷ carlossainz55 No comment 🤣

carlosfan33 IM CURRENTLY GOING INSANE

ynfan32 oh to recieve love notes from yn

ynfan33 the sweetest couple ever

carlosfan34 if he retired from f1 just to become her groupie i wouldn’t even be mad

⤷ ynfan34 crying because he would so do that

carlosfan35 he’s mr. ln and PROUDLY

[kurooh]

OKG NONONO I MEANT IN THE SAME WAY PEOPLE WRITE BLACKWHIP WOTH ZUKU SOMETIMES 😭😭😭😭

-mastermind anon

LMFAOOO 😭😭 i sensed sexiness but i couldn’t stop thinking about kidnapping oh my god

[runraerun]

A Steddie Marry Me!AU where Robin and Steve take the kids out for a night of fun to a Corroded Coffin concert and they dare Steve (who undeniably has a major crush on the lead singer of the band) to bring this sign as a joke. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Except the joke gets away from them when a very excited (and possibly a little inebriated) Eddie Munson pulls Steve up on stage and proceeds to accept his proposal, hearts in his eyes!

They get married then and there (who knew one of the sound system guys was an ordained minister?!) much to Steve’s shock. He’s just sort of lost the moment, and very star struck by Eddie, caught up in this whirlwind of events.

Eddie shoves one of his chunky silver rings on Steve’s fingers, leaving Steve scrambling to try and reciprocate, patting down his jacket until he eventually kneels down, rips the lace from his shoe and ties a knot around Eddie’s finger.

It ends with an ‘I do?’ From Steve, and a ‘fuck yeah I do!’ From Eddie, all while the crowd is SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP because HOLY SHIT WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!

The rock star scoops then Steve up and carries him off stage, bridal style of course, yelling about how they’re ‘off to their honeymoon!’

Can you imagine the headlines?!👀

UPDATE:

I made some edits for this idea.

+Along with some Corroded Coffin posters!🤘👁️👅👁️🤘

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage Show Pt.6

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5.5k

synopsis. it's been a long time since you and Hobie last saw each other. after he invites you to his next concert, despite better judgement, you go. you know yourself, you always fall into old habits

or

you and hobie get back together

🍒・．❕warnings. she's a long one, smut with LOTS of plot, fingering, hand riding, sloppy kissing, save a horse ride a cowboy, love making, a lot of references to other parts, angst, lots of angsy, a healthy(er) relationship, reader has more control than before

You and Hobie haven’t spoken in months. You imagined it was all too easy for him to pretend you never existed, that this was how all his relationships inevitably ended, unceremoniously without even a text to apologize for everything said in the worst of your moments. You were absolutely torn, terribly upset, and horrifically furious when he still used your picture on his album cover, the picture of you with his thumb in your mouth, only your lower face visible to his audience. It was like some sick wink at you. He knew you’d see the cover, knew that you’d know it was you. You two were probably the only two people in the world who knew.

Fuck him. He could fall off a building for all you cared. You didn’t need him. It seemed almost impossible to think that you were once obsessed with him, that you would have once kiss the ground he walked on and done the most heinous things for him.

Nearly half a year and you were beginning to forget what he looked like, what he smelled like, the smallest details about him. You were eternally grateful for it and unquestionably sad over it. Your sheets no longer smelt like him, the last remnant of him in your home. It was almost as if he never existed in the first place, how little he left around. He made it so easy for himself to disappear.

And he did disappear for a while. From your life and your mind.

Until he was back to touring in your location. 

You weren’t going to the show. You never even listened to the new album affectionately named “Doll” after the title track on the 12 track list. You could only imagine what that was about, that and the rest of his tracks. You'd never know. You never would listen to it. You never bought a copy.

You got off of your shift with a sigh and made your way down the the bar near your job to grab a drink. It was Friday, you were able to get the weekend off, and you needed to be drunk the entire time. Mary Jane fans were swarming the streets and you couldn't stand any of them. You wondered which of them was Hobie's new plaything. When would they realize he would never love them even a fraction of the way they worshiped him?

Poor thing. Whoever they were, they were on the fast track to getting their heard broken.

You pushed open the door to your usual bar and found it roudier than usual. You managed to wiggle your way to the counter before you saw him. He was sitting out with his chair leaned back, his feet kicked up on the table, and a nice pint of frothing beer in his hand. He was smiling at some fan who had approached, wanting autographs. He was very obviously flirting with them until his eye caught yours slightly behind them. His smile faltered a bit as you whipped around and hid your face behind your hands.

He was more gorgeous than you remembered, fucking breathtaking. You never realized how much you would miss the individual features of his face. His golden eyes, his nose, his lips, his hair. You hoped he hadn't seen you, that you could get your drink and mind your own. But of course he had and of course he felt the need to come up to you.

"Y/n? Y/n, is tha' you?" You could hear a distance away and swiftly you asked the bartender for a kamikaze. This would be a long night. There was no getting away from him now. He was already making his way to you, lightly pushing people to the side to get to you.

Hobie sidled up beside you on the stool to your left, his knees on either side of your body. "How ya doin', doll?" His voice was so smooth and gentle in your ear you could just melt into him, profess how much you missed him all this time, beg for the two of you to go back to the way you were. But you refused to cave, refused to be so weak.

You didn't answer him. The bartender came back with your drink and you thanked her with a smile and a nod. You were no not talking mood, especially not with him.

Hobie's been missing you a lot. Things didn't feel the same without you around. Things didn't feel right. He felt a bit uneasy going on stage, the energy before and after wasn't exactly the same. He drank a little more, slept a little less, haunted over the way things ended. He thought he'd never see you again. The world was too large for something like that.

But here you two were. And you weren't talking to him. Why would you? You had confessed your love to him and he had squeezed your heart til it exploded in the palm of his hands. There was absolutely no reason in the world why you would talk to him.

"Still mad at me, luv?"

Something about his tone of voice made you upset, like he was telling you to get over it, what's past is past and it shouldn't bother you anymore. You finally looked at him, your lip twitching with disdain. "Why are you here, Hobart?"

"Oh, the government name." He placed a hand on his chest to feign hurt but the way you were acting did hurt him. It was deserved, more than deserved, so he took it as it was. "I'm here on tour. It's the night before our concert. We're jus' celebrating." He nodded over to his mates, all of them distracted by fans of their own. They hardly even noticed Hobie left them.

"I ain't think I'd run into ya. I though' I'd have ta hunt'cha down, luv. I need to talk to ya." He timidly placed a hand on top of yours. You needed something far stronger than a kamikaze. You needed straight vodka shots.

You pulled your hand from his, subsequently pulling your heart away and locking it up behind your ribcage despite the way it pulled and leaped for him. It's hard not to be in love even after months of never seeing him. But you wouldn't open yourself to getting hurt again. You might be in love but you're not gonna be dumb about it. "There's nothing for us to talk about. You made everything very clear the last time we spoke." Why aren't you punching him in the face? Why aren't you leaving? Why aren't you cursing him out? All of them are valid reactions. "I'm not gonna be an easy fuck for you."

"Just give it a chance, luv. Give me a chance. I really just wanna talk, nothin' else. I think with the way we left tings off wasn't the greatest–"

"Ya think?" You downed the rest of your drink and flinched at the sharp sting at the back of your throat. You motioned for some shots to the bartender and mouthed vodka while Hobie continued.

"I just wanna make tings right, dove." There was something very soft and genuine in his voice. He just wanted to give the both of you closure. You were done with him and that was okay, just as long as you knew the truth. "How about you come to the concert tomorrow? We'll talk after. Free admission."

You stared at him, gaze softening just a bit. How tender and palpable you could turn for him, like putty in his hands. With just a soft tone and a pleading gaze and you folded. "Fine. I'll go to your concert. We'll talk but I don't want to do anything, Hobie. I don't wanna feel like you're plaything again."

Hobie raised his hands in surrender. "I won't even touch you, luv. I'll never make you do something you don't wanna." It's true. He never made you do anything you weren't down for. And you were down for anything involving him.

Hobie rolled his lips, buying the bottom one to hide a grin. He stood up and dropped 40 pounds to pay for your drinks and a couple more if you chose to have any. "Have a good nigh', luv. I'll see ya tomorrow."

You huffed in response. It took everything in you to not turn to watch him walk away. You didn't want to stay any longer. You couldn't stand the thought of being in a room with him, pretending his was there when you were acutely aware of his existence staring holes into your skull.

You used the money to pay for your drinks and left the rest as a tip to the bartender before takinging your leave. You had to be rested for tomorrow.

—

Hobie ended up getting you tickets for the pit closest to the stage. The asshole. You stood squeezed between two fans screaming Hobie's name, dressed in gaze-attracting outfits. They screamed their heads off the moment they saw him and the other Mary Janes come out on stage, hoping to get his valuable attention. Your lips were sealed but your heart swelled seeing him where he was his very best. He was so beautiful, the stage lights casting down upon him from behind. He looked like an angel but you knew better.

His eyes searched the crowd for you and once his gaze landed upon your figure getting pushed around by fans trying to push their way to the front, he smiled. "How's everyone doin' t'nigh'?" Hobie kept looking at you, like he meant to be asking you specifically. You turned your head away, playing with your nails to show you weren't interested.

"Aww, don' be shy, a lil' louda." And the crowd responded with all their lungs could handle but all he wanted was to hear from you. All he needed was you.

"I've got someone special ina crowd t'nigh'. I wanna make sure tonight's a good show for them. So please, luvs, be nice to each otha t'nigh'." He knew you didn't want to be here, it was basic etiquette. Who wanted to be shoved around all night?

They started playing some of their new songs you've never heard before and suddenly you remembered why you loved them so much. They were all so mesmerizing on stage, their lyrics made you want to move, to jump around to close your eyes and feel the chaotic rhythm. 

But as you listened, you realized a little more that the lyrics were about you and Hobie. To anyone else, it was just about two people who were in love but never meant to be together. It was a progression of events across the album, each song about different aspects of your relationship. "Worship" was about how much one worshiped the other to the point that it killed them. "How We Cave" was the end, about how they fell apart, all of it cleverly hidden within the folds of the song so that no one batted an eyelash.

The entire album was a wink and nudge to you, between the two of you. "Only we have to know" it said and you despised how much it meant to you. You needed to get out of here. Suddenly the entire venue felt as though it was crushing you, crashing down on your head.

You writhed and wiggled your way between people to make your way to the nearest exit. When you got outside, you took a deep breath, your exhale a cloudy haze before your lips under the cold air. You shuddered, reached into your pocket, and lit up a joint. You needed it, deserved it.

How he changed you, molded you into a person unrecognizable to your younger self. You had never been a smoker, never been much of a drinker, not before you met Hobie and he changed who you were so intrinsically. You never knew if it was a good thing or a bad one.

You knew the concert was over when people began funneling out, talking amongst themselves about who this new, special guest was. You pushed yourself off to the side and took a long drag of your joint, leaving strawberry lipgloss that you could taste with every drag. You wandered around the side of the building until you found the back entrance where Hobie told you to wait if the two of you managed to lose each other.

He came out about 10 minutes later, looking left and right until his eyes landed upon you. "Sorry, some fans wit' backstage passes I was meetin'. The boys are entertainin'em now." He excused himself, hopping over the guardrailing to get to you. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Take a wild guess." You took another drag before Hobie took it from you and took one himself. He loved the taste of you on it, took another drag because of it. "My bad, luv." He came and leaned against the wall beside you, his leather jacket the only thing protecting him from the cold. You weren't much better off either, dresses in an outfit similar to when you first met, you shivered from time to time while smoking with him.

"I saw you leave." He hummed and passed the joint back to you.

"Doubt I missed anything crazy. You were almost done anyway."

"The fuckin' Queen's ghost came on stage 'n did a backflip." Hobie countered, looking down at you with eyes that told you he was serious. His expression fell way into one of humor when you giggled and tossed your head back against the brick wall. "You're so stupid."

"I so am."

You didn't like how serious the undertones of his voice sounded. You didn't look at him, just smoked your joint to a bud before dropping it and putting it out under your boot. "I wanna go home."

Hobie stood from his position and offered out a hand to you. "Then lemme walk you." You looked at him, then his hand, and with a scoff, walked right past him. But you didn't tell him no, so he went right with you. You never said no to him along the way to your flat only a couple blocks away.

It was like the two of you were scared to talk about what you really wanted to. The way you two left off. Anyone looking at you would have said you were friends, not ex-lovers. And you weren't even that technically. You two laughed together, walked together without a single touch shared but all the longing glances of two people wanting to get back together after so many months.

And when you reached your flat, you turned and looked at Hobie and his massive height head on. "You can't come inside."

"I can't or you don't want me to?" He countered again because he knew you too well. You shoved him softly and he didn't even move. "Both. I know myself." If he comes in, you'll have sex, you'll wake up, and he won't be there. You would have let him in just to get hurt again.

"I told you, I won' touch ya, luv. I haven' yet, have I?" He was right, the only time he tried, he gave you the option to take his hand and you had refused, renewing your agreement that he would not be the one to initiate anything between the two of you. "We still haven' spoken. I don't think ya wan' everyone on the street to know our business, yeah?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked around. Finally, you looked for your keys to the front door and when you found it, you unlocked it. Hobie knew to be quiet as to disturb your neighbors and he surprisingly was considering his size. You knew where the stairs freaked and he followed your moves. Most of your neighbors were older people and that they'd have no qualms reporting you to your landlord.

When you finally reached your flat, you unlocked the door and let him in.

Your flat looked mostly if not entirely the same. Hobie smiled. "Good memories in here." He looked back at you with sparkling eyes. You closed the door. "Yeah, yeah, Hobie. Come on, we came in here to talk." You didn't want any of his bullshit anymore. You needed closure or you'd go crazy. Barely getting through the day without crying and throwing things was no way to live your life. Drinking and smoking all the time wasn't much greater either. You both were a mess.

"Yeah, yeah, we did." His playful attitude faltered as he crossed his long arms loosely over his chest and looked at his boots. "Look, 'm sorry, y/n. 'm sorry for all of it. You never deserved the way I treated you, you never deserved what I said to you."

You sat, you listened, you let him talk, your lips pulling to the side as you attempted to hold back swelling tears.

"I know I was wrong. I know. And I regret it everyday for the way I hurt you. We just…one, we shouldn't've had a conversation like tha' at a time like tha'. But I'm–" he paused for a moment, looking for the words. "I wasn't lying when I said I'm not someone you want to love. I am someone that no one has ever loved, doll. They have always left me because of who I am."

"But I'm not everyone else, Hobes. You can't decide for me who I'm gonna love." You interjected, a bit tearful. The situation frustrated you to tears and you felt a bit ridiculous for crying but Hobie didn't care, he reached out and wiped the fresh tears from your face. "Ya right. I should've let you make that decision yaself and 'm sorry for tha', luv. I was jus' scared."

"Scared? Scared of what, Hobie?" You croaked out, looking up at him with those big, beautiful eyes of yours that he adored so much, that he thought of in the darkest part of the night to keep him going.

He closed his eyes because he couldn't bear to look into your gaze. "I was afraid you would leave me one day because what would I do withou'cha by my side, luv. I was scared because I loved ya too and I knew I didn't deserve ya and one day you'd figure tha' ou' too."

He was scared to look at you, scared that it may ruin the moment to know how you were feeling about all of this. If only he knew him hard you fell for him again. Maybe the two of you weren't right for each other. Maybe whatever high power never ordained for you to be together. But fuck that higher power.

Hobie felt the weight of your lips ease against his and immediately took you in to him. He's been waiting to kiss you since the moment he first saw you but he promise he wouldn't touch you, not unless you touched him first.

Your hands reached up and caressed his face with your soft palms. His hand timidly came to your hips, waiting for you to writhe from him hold but you don't, you lean into him, standing on your toes to reach his lips better. You still taste like fruits and he hopes that your nether lips taste the same.

"I want you." You murmured against his lips in a daze of lust. "I want you right here, please." You kissed him harder pushing him back onto your couch before clamoring onto his lap with your legs straddling him. Hobie pulled you close, so close until your body pressed against his chest, rolling like waves under the exploring nature of his hands.

Your hands pulled at each other's clothes, removing shirts, tugging at the buttons of pants, a bra was tossed over your shoulder by you don't know who's hand. You wanted him completely naked, completely vulnerable to you for the first time and he wanted you the same.

Removing each other's clothes, you got up and stumbled clumsily to your bedroom where, by the time you got there, the two of you stood naked, embracing each other while you kissed. You had Hobie on the bed in seconds, still on top of him while you kissed hickeys down his neck. His hand slid down the soft skin of your naval, sliding between your supple legs to touch the slick nether lips of your pussy. He slid his middle finger between your folds and groaned softly. "Are you this wet all the time?"

"Only for you." You rocked your hips softly against his hand, shuddering as he curled his finger and let it slide into the wetness of your entrance. It was so easy to add another finger into you, and with enough working from his middle and index, scissoring you open while rubbing that sensitive ridge you've got inside you, he managed to add a third.

"Ahh– shit…Hobie." You rode his fingers, your hands holding his head where his jaw and neck met. You kept your eyes on his, your foreheads pressed against one another. "Keep goin', luv. Take wha'cha need."

You liked the warmth of his skin against yours. Two humans in love sharing in the taking of each other's bodies. Your teeth met his skin, nipping, biting, the salty remnants of sweat from performing still on his skin. He smells like weed, looks like heaven, and tastes like love.  His palm worked against your clit while his fingers stretched you open in preparation for his size, which you haven't taken in a long while. You could feel it resting against your stomach, aching, smearing precum across your naval. You wanted it inside you in any way you could have him. But it seemed that he was intent on making you cum hon his hand first.

"Mmmh~ Ion wanna cum yet." You told him still rutting your hips against his hand. "I wanna cum with you." You wanted out, biting your lower lip as you whimpered. "I want your cock. Please lemme have it, Hobes. Please." You offered him puppy dog eyes like he wasn't already willing to give you everything you wanted and the world on top of it.

"Cummin' twice never hurt nobody." Hobie used his free hand to lift your head and make you face him again. "Jus' look a' me wit' those pretty eyes, luv. Can you do tha' for me?" He let his hand drop to your hip and felt the way you moved under the weight of his palm, desperate for a climax long denied to you for months. You nodded with wet, pouty lips and those pretty eyes. 

Yoru walls clamped down upon his fingers as your ground your hips down hard and whimpered with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Just keep–” You tilted your hips to rub your clit a little more against the heel of his palm. You bit your lip and held him tighter as you rocked to the sway of your climax washing over you gently. Your body paused and you pressed your lips to Hobie’s to stifle your moan so you wouldn’t wake the neighbors. “Fuck– Hobie!”

Your tongues pressed against each other, your kiss sloppy and passionate, full of lust melting back into love. It was dark in your room, hard to see anything all you two had were your unadjusted eyes and the intimacy of touch to guide your way. Hobie laid back on your bed with his head in your pillows. Your scent surrounded him and he was in heaven as you climbed further up on top of him and grasped the length of his cock tenderly.

He let you do what you needed to do, sighing with perfect content as you dragged the tip of his cock between your wet folds. “Go slow, dove. I wanna feel ya.” He told you, shivering as your positioned him against your soaked entrance and sank down until your warm walls enveloped his fat tip. From there, you braced your hands upon his chest and did as told, slowly sinking down upon him, his cock spreading you further than you remembered.

You watched the way Hobie writhed beneath you, his hands gripping up and down your hips and thighs. “Fuck, y/n. Oh my…” He missed this so much, he missed you, this pretty, tight, warm cunt he dreamed about at night. All the toys he’s gotten in an attempt to replicate you, all of it in vain. He almost whined for you, biting his lip to contain something of a whimper. He wished he could se the way your folds parted for him or the way your hole stretched and struggled to contain him.

You liked the sight of him struggling to control himself. There was an overwhelming sense of power you felt you had over him for the first time in you entire fucked up situationship. His grip left bruises in your skin, tighter and tighter as you lifted yourself to the very tip of his member before pushing yourself back down, sheathing his cock completely, He made space for himself inside you, you walls melding to his exact length and girth. You had almost forgotten how good he felt, how he kissed your cervix so tenderly and pressed against sensitive spots you could never reach on your own.

"God, doll. Ya know wha'cha doin' t'me?" His hands find purchase on your hips, weakly following your movements as he watches the outline of your silhouette in amazement. The bed creaks a little with your movements, your moans mingle with the wet sounds of his pushing his cock into you, it's heaven in a single bedroom and you never want to go back to Earth.

Hobie lifted his knees and propped himself up, his hands gripping your hips a little harder so he could have his moment of control. He thrusted up into you, conjuring a breathless gasp from you as you gripped his shoulders for support. Your back arched as he fucked you, abused your cunt a little harder than you were used to over these past couple of months. You but your lip to contain the onslaught of moans you had to offer him, only letting out soft cries and whimpers to satiate his hunger to hear you.

You let him fuck into you, nice and rough, a position only those gifted in his department could pull off. You leaned down, pressed your body to his, laid on top of him with your back arched. You moaned into his neck, nosing at the angle of his jaw. Your hips flicked to meet the thrust of his hips. "H-Hobieeee." You squealed for him and he adored it, the way you dragged out his name like you wanted to hold it in your mouth for longer.

You stretched like a cat on top of him, you hands grasping at the pillow on either side of his head, scratching at the head post. You kept your face against his throat to hide your moans so only he could hear but they were so loud you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck and bite down to muffle them.

It was like he was tearing you apart, his large hands spreading you wide, his full lips muttering obscenities along the lines of his good you felt around him. So soft, so silky, so wet, so good. 

When you kissed, it was not a kiss. It was just the parts, a sloppy meeting of tongues, teeth, and lips, all tangled up and touching on another. It was broken down by lust fueled by love, by the warmth of heated skin, by the kindness one human offers to another. He paused his hips to slide his hands up to hold your head with his fingers tangled in your hair.

"I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyou." You groaned against his lips at first before babbling it out like you couldn't hold it in you much longer. You needed it out, in the air. You hips rutted, you pussy leaving his cock soaked as you dripped. Your clit rubbed against his hair-covered pelvis and you shivered with pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

Hobie chuckled a little and you fed on it like you've never known any other substance. "I love you too, dove. 'N I wanna see you fuck me. Give me a show. Jus' f'me this time." This whole time, you've been giving shows to other people, now he wants you just to himself.

You sat back up, your hands against his stomach, scratching lightly as you rocked your hips. Hobie watched the way your body moved, hypnotized by the way you rolled and danced. You bounced on his cock, each one met with a lazy thrust into you.

You closed your eyes and tossed your head back, your mouth slightly ajar. You let the pleasure take you, you felt every thrust of his cock inside you, every point of pleasure it touched, the way your greedy, swollen clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, his hands on your hips, sliding up and down your thighs to coax you to continue. You loved his light voice, "you go' i', baby. Keep goin', jus' like tha'. My lovely, looks so pretty." His voice strained with each word, the beginnings of an orgasm making themselves known in his throat.

You shuddered, pussy trembling with your own climax. "I wanna cum together, Hobie. Please." You pleaded with him, looking back down at his fucked out expression trying to hold on to some cohesiveness. His muscles tightened as you fucked him harder, bringing yourself all the way up to the tip of his cock before coming down with a loud clap.

 "Wha'eva you wan', lovely. I'll do wha'eva you wan'." He'll be whatever you want to. He just needs you in every way he can have you, for as long as he can have you. "You keep goin' like this 'n 'm gonna cum inside this gorgeous cunt of ya's."

You moaned at the thought of his cum filling you up, taking up the space his cock once did. "Do it, do it, please." You were just on the edge of your orgasm and he could tell. The way your walls clamped around him told everything and each movement brought him closer as well.

It was a simultaneous reaction. It took you both at once. Your moans were louder than before, mingling together embracing each other as your pussy quivered and milked his cock just the way he needed to shoot ribbons of cum right against your cervix and coat your walls in white. There was just so much of it and you continued to ride him, earning a few whimpers from Hobie as you milked him nice and thoroughly. To the point that his cum leaked through the tight seal his cock made with your entrance and dribbled down the underside of his cock and down his balls.

You felt so warm, so full. You fell on top of him, let him wrap his arms around you as you took in his scent so intrinsically his. You missed him so much, missed the feel of his sweaty skin against yours, missed the sound of his labored breath in your ear, then his chuckle he inevitably did at some point. You shook with his chest, rocking your hips a little to feel the comfort of his softening cock inside you.

"What's so funny?" You asked, drawing imaginary shapes against his chest in the dark.

"Really slutted me out in the end there. 've neva whimpered before." He laughed again, tossing a arm over his face to hide his embarrassment. You were laughing with him, a smile half pressed into his chest. "We could do it again."

There was a long stretch of silence as your laugher faded together and you sat there with him still inside you and his cum leaking out in globs, creating a mess between the both of you. There was so much you two needed to say, so many conversations you needed to have, but you narrowed it down in 8 words.

"I missed ya, luv." Hobie began.

"I missed you too." He'd never know how much hearing those words from his pierced lips would make your heart soar. The fact that he said it first, even more so.

"Remember tha' shower you was talkin' 'bout?"

You thought back to that moment of embarrassment for you when you had invited him to shower with you and he had refused. "How could I forget?" Even thinking about it now made your cheeks ache as blood rushed to them.

Hobie shifted a little beneath you. "I wanna take it now." A smile began to creep up onto your face and now your cheeks burned for another reason. 

"Let's go take it then."

[oneforthemunny]

dark shadows |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: the start of something new between you and eddie.

contains: 18+ minors dni. dom/sub themes, mentions to smut but nothing graphic. trauma bonding, shitty parents, drug and alcohol abuse, past abuse, mean-ish eddie and mean-ish reader??? kinda.

"Uh, do you want me to do it or..." You moved your head back, drool still pooling on the satin, black sheets beneath you. Eddie's inked skin glistening in a sheen of sweat in the low lights of his room. "Or can you move?"

"Just... Just hand it here." You reached your arm back for the cloth, thighs still trembling with every movement, waves of aftershock settling in with the familiar burn and uncomfortableness.

This was typical. You'd clean yourself up, sticky and sweaty, cleaning his release from you with the cool rag. Eddie would light a cigarette, tossing you a water bottle and a bottle of Ibuprofen for the pain.

It was routine to the two of you now. Finding comfort in the uncomfortable; in the unknown that was... whatever this was the two of you were doing.

Eddie sunk into the mattress next to you, pushing the paddle and the clamps off the sheets. You swallowed your pills before turning, opting to lay on your stomach next to him seeing as how your ass was throbbing from his earlier handiwork. Your thighs twitched at the thought, how angry he'd been at you for making out with Malcom in front of him, letting that "grunge fucking wannabe" stick his hand up your dress in front of everyone. Eddie had played it cool, not caused a scene, eyes only barely glancing at you from across the room, but you knew; you knew what you were in for.

"You want one?" Eddie asked, offering his pack of reds towards you.

You nodded gently, eyes drooping ever so slightly. "Thank you." You muttered when Eddie lit you yours, passing it to you.

"So you can be nice, huh?" Eddie grinned, teasing, still a dark edge to his tone. "When you wanna be?"

"Somethin' like that." You rolled your eyes, propping up on your forearms, cigarette between your lips. Normally, you'd tell him you just had manners, but he'd always reply with a snarky remark about your upbringing, your parents. So you stopped doing that.

Eddie just laughed, smoke sliding out of his nostrils, eyes twinkling at you- soft. A rare side of Eddie you didn't see very often. It made your heart swell. You blinked, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. You'd blame the post-orgasm brain fog for those feelings.

"You're flying out tomorrow to Nantucket?" Eddie asked, eyes sliding cooly over to you.

You hummed, inhaling your own cigarette, the numbing sweet nicotine coating the inside of your mouth. It tasted like Eddie's spit, the rather large glob he spit in your mouth and made you swallow earlier- "washing your mouth out" to get rid of any trace of Malcolm.

"Yeah, me and Farrah are staying there for a while. She likes to go to the East Coast in the summer. Says the waters prettier." You blinked lazily up at him, head propped in your hand.

Eddie snorted. "Prettier than California? No way."

"Have you ever been to Nantucket?" You asked with a raised brow.

"Nope." Eddie chirped, tongue rolling over the front of his teeth. You could tell he was about to say something mean. "Not all of us grew up in a life of lavish like you, Princess." There it was. Predictable.

"Well, you have money now." You snapped. "You tour, don't you? You still have never been to the East Coast in the summer?"

Eddie paused, tongue gliding over his bottom lip before he took another drag. "Never been on the water out there."

"That's a shame." You sighed. "It's pretty."

Eddie wasn't sure what you were doing. Usually, this was your time to either hurl mean insults towards each other that lead to round two, or you'd slip out when you got the feeling back in your legs. You weren't ever this... genuine with each other. That's not what you did here.

"Thought you were a Hamptons girl." Eddie sneered.

"I'm an anywhere girl, Munson." You snapped. "I like to travel. See different places. New things. New people."

His heart lurched at the end of your word, that familiar heat creeping up his chest to his throat, burning and constricting. A feeling he tried to shove back down with another inhale of his cigarette, untrusting of his voice at the moment.

"Look at me." You said, his heart jumping again. Surely, you couldn't see his thoughts, know any different. Eddie turned slightly, only to see your furrowed brow gaze looking above him.

"Got something on your head, hold on." You muttered, pushing his bangs out to swipe at the... lipstick stain? No doubt from your intimate tussle earlier, but still you were shocked at how it ended up there.

Your thumb grazed over the smear of makeup, ghosting over a rather jagged scar. Your brows furrowed, feeling Eddie's body tense when you ghosted over it.

His gaze held yours, a little challenging, scared more than anything. he looked like you were about to strike him, brown eyes painfully alert and boring into your own.

"It's, uh... My dad was a big drinker. He got mad sometimes. Threw a bottle at me when I was a kid, so..." Eddie tried to brush it off like it was no big deal. Like it wasn't a painful memory that made his heart ache, made his fists ball.

You didn't miss the bob of his throat, swallowing hard around his words. You let your fingers smooth over it gently again, even years later it was still raised.

"Like I said," Eddie looked at you, lips twisting slightly. "Not everyone grew up as well off as you, honey."

You pressed your lips together, the fluttering of your own heart caged behind your chest. The cigarette dwindled between your own fingertips, and for a moment, you contemplated letting him think that. Let he be content in his opinion on you.

Instead, you rolled over gently, ignoring the buzzing of your enraged skin, lifting your knees. Eddie's brows furrowed, eyes drooped and following your movements curiously.

"When I was thirteen, I had a sleepover with all my friends. My dad did a watch party for Risky Business before it premiered. He was a producer on it, and we all had a crush on Tom Cruise," You grinned softly at the memory, fingertips brushing over your kneecap.

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. Of course you did, so predictable. "But, um, we were in the movie room, and Farrah and I went to get more popcorn." You swallowed thickly. "My mom... she drinks a lot. They both did, but like, she drank a lot. Did a lot of coke too, but she'd come home just blasted. Out of her mind. Bad."

Eddie paused, eyes trained on yours that didn't meet his. He watched the way you fidgeted, fingers grazing softly over your knee cap- soothing.

"Anyways. She-She swore she wouldn't come home like that. My dad told me he'd keep her under control but... he never could." You squeezed your eyes shut gently. "Farrah and I found her on the floor and.... God, we thought she was dead. She was just slumped over and-and she had vomited all over herself. I had never seen her like that."

"Farrah called her dad, because I mean he's kind of a doctor- a plastic surgeon. I kept trying to wake her up, do something." You could feel your body shaking, hands trembling with every deep breath you tried to calm yourself with. "She did wake up eventually. Was barely fucking speaking, just slurred and fucked up. I tried to tell her to get up, that my friends were here and she was going to scare them. I was crying, Farrah was sobbing, and-and I was trying to pull her up and she shoved me."

You looked down at the long scar, jagged over the top of your knee, slashed down to the left. Even after all the years, all the creams, it still was there. Faintly, but a reminder nonetheless. Eddie followed your fingertip that stroked it gently. "She shoved me to get off her. I lost my balance, went through the glass coffee table knee first."

Eddie's heart hitched. He certainly had never heard this in the tabloids.

"Farrah was freaking out so bad. Her dad showed up. All my friends came up, saw me bleeding and sobbing, Farrah screaming, my mom passed out. They thought we had been robbed. All their parents showed up, and when my dad finally came back, he wouldn't take me to the hospital. Didn't want this getting out to the press. Made Farrah's dad stitch me up and then made the others sign NDAs about it. Paid them off or something, I don't know.

None of those girls ever spoke to me again except for Farrah. I was never allowed to go over to their house... they certainly weren't allowed to come to mine. My mom... she never apologized. My dad sent her to some 'rehab' place that was really an all inclusive spa, and... she still drank. I just learned to leave her there after that." You looked down at your nails.

You didn't know why telling Eddie this was so comforting. It shouldn't have been. You hated him. He was mean and vile and gross, but... for some reason, you thought he might understand. Give you some sympathy you'd never got in your life.

Eddie paused, his brows were creased in an expression you couldn't quite read. Lips pressed in a tight line, cigarette dwindling in his own fingers, ash falling on his sheets. Waves of consciousness, vulnerability about what you just told him leaving you bare and defenseless to him.

Your heart hammered when he bummed his own cigarette in the tray, reaching over for yours. "I'm sorry." Eddie muttered lowly, turning so you couldn't see the shake in his head. "That's fucked up."

He hoped you couldn't hear his guilt seeping through his tone. Hoped you couldn't feel how sick and riddled with anxieties he felt. He felt mean, really actually mean. Felt like the bullies that used to torment him, like Jason Carver, like a piece of shit.

You shrugged, forced nonchalant, desperate that it would cover your own shaking nerves. "It's fine-"

"No, it's not." Eddie said fiercely, eyes flashing to you. "That's a fucked up thing to go through. No matter how you grow up or whatever. That's fucked, and I'm sorry." His eyes met yours, soft. You'd never seen him look so soft... so genuine and human. "You didn't deserve that shit."

Your heart jolted, stilling entirely in your chest. Throat constricting with emotions too thick to swallow down. His voice rang through your ears, a phrase you were never given. Most people, the few who knew, just apologized or ignored the topic all together.

You nodded instead, rolling back onto your stomach so you didn't have to face him. "Thanks." You muttered, breath catching in your chest, but you tried to keep your breathing even. You couldn't let him see how that flustered you, how it effected you.

"You didn't deserve that either, for the record." You tilted your head to look up at him. "Any of that, and I'm sorry. I know that can be... rough."

Eddie nodded slowly, throat bobbing. "Yeah, well, no kid ever does. Fucked up to bring a kid into the world if you're not gonna love them. If you're not gonna be a decent parent f'them." He muttered.

You nodded slowly, unsure of what else to say. The air was thick with tension, a little uncomfortable, a little unsure, a little... comforting? You could feel the lingering presence of the conversation, the unknown dynamic between the two of you. You weren't sure if you should continue being soft like this, or if you should go back to your normality, your routine.

"I, uh," You shifted with a groan, pushing off the mattress. "I better get going."

Eddie nodded gently, eyes on his hands. "I've got a long drive." You muttered, reaching down for your discarded clothes.

"You can stay if you want to." Eddie muttered. You stilled, spine stiffening. "'s a long drive. I went pretty hard on ya."

You turned back to look at him, how he was nonchalantly lighting another cigarette, but his eyes raised to yours softly, hopefully? You weren't sure.

"I don't want to impose." You scoffed lightly. "Disrupt any of your other plans with your groupies." You bit.

Eddie snorted. "Groupies are for tour. I'm not on tour right now." He rolled his eyes at you, exhaling slowly. "Besides, Kate's in Paris right now, so I don't have any plans."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "Nice." You muttered, but you were already sinking back onto the mattress. "What if I had plans, hm?" You challenged, raising a brow.

"You don't."

"How do you know that? Could be going to see Malcolm-"

"-Then go see him." Eddie challenged, that same biting tone returning to his voice. "But something tells me if that was true, you wouldn't already be back in my bed, now would you?"

You blushed, jaw ticking. There he was, your mean man returned back to you. Long gone was the tender moment the two of you shared before.

You laid down on the satin pillows instead, watching Eddie take the cigarette between his lips, inhaling slowly. Your eyes lingered on this plump lips, soft and juicy.

"Maybe I need to come see Nantucket in the summer then." Eddie muttered, eyes flicking down at you.

You hummed, settling into the plush pillows. "You do. Change your life."

Eddie snorted. "Yeah? Maybe I'll come." He was inviting himself, but your didn't stop him. No huffs or cackles or mocking words. "Keep you in line. Don't want to ruin our progress we've made."

"Right." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Munson."

Eddie grinned, passing you the cigarette, holding it to your lips while you took a slow drag. Your heart raced when his fingertips touched your lips so gently. This was new, different, a foreign domain the two of you were unsurely discovering.

You hoped Eddie would show up to Nantucket. You hoped he come shock the quiet town with all his loud music, tattoos, black clothes even in the summer. Rock their little world like he'd done your own. You hoped he'd be happy to see you, like you were to see him.

[onsunnyside]

“his arms wrapped around you as if he were scared you’d disappear”

😫😫😭😭

Im already whipped for him I need more about this plsssss I need to know more about their dynamic! What if someone came for her calling her names and stuff would he defend her? It was probably another jealous groupie mad he didn’t chose them. Omg he defs has nudes and videos of him and reader on his phone too and they most definitely get leaked 😏 my brain is going a mile a minute thinking about these two!!

he's spent so much of his life on the road and living out of suitcases, you were one of the few constants outside of his bandmates 🤧 oh you best bet daddy will protect you, he isn't above fucking up some jerk for you 😤 (which always leads to dozens of headlines). this is supposed to be set in the 70s 😭 but i might just leave it as a mash of decades (like fk) bc now i can't get over the spicy nudes and sextapes 😮‍💨