#sub vincent

[simp4anything]

Thought

Vincent Sinclar x Male reader

Warning: knife play, trans Vincent (because yes), rough sex, vibrator, and praise kink

(If you don't like any of these stuff just leave)

(hint: my english is not quite good so let me know if I have any errors)

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Vincent was suprise in the state he was in. He was almost finished with one of the wax sculptures when he suddenly felt something vibrating on his clit. He let out a small whimper, that's when you came in to go check how he was doing but to also see how he is reacting to the vibrator. Vincent gave a slight moan but tried to focus on the sculpture but it was hard (poor baby). He turns and sees you and try to run to give you a hug that was when the vibrator found the spot.

Vincent starts to whimper and slightly moans, you tilt your head pretending you don't know what's going on with him. That was when you put the vibrator in the highest count, Vincent lets out cute little moans and put is hand on your shoulder still having the most adorable moans, and whimpers.

____________________Skip because I'm Lazy______________________ You start to thrust into his cunt, as he moans so pretty his mask that he took off long ago was at the counter of the bed. "Your doing so good for me Vincent you know that" when you say that he responds with a whimper as his cunt tights around you.

You gave a groan to him as you feel his cunt tight around your cock that was when you thrust faster. "aah aaah mmh aaaah" Vincent was suprise by how fast you were now going and almost feels himself getting close, "cl...cl...close ah ah aah" Vincent felt like he was about to burst then he felt something metal touching his body he gave out a whimper.

"I'm suprise that you are liking this just like me" he answered with a whimper and a slight moan. The knife went up to his neck as you and him felt it. "I'm close dear you want it inside or..." Vincent gave a nod as you go faster "cu...cu...cumming ah ah mhm mhm ah aah" you cum inside of him with a loud groan as you fill him up he gave a whimper as he feels your hot liquid inside of him.

THE END

[chris-prank]

Yandere villain sidekick NSFW drabbles

CW: NSFW (obviously), sneaky masturbating while on a call, soft masochist, allusion of reader giving but also receiving and sub yandere

You can go check Dr. Seraph's Part 1 here! Since some of the things here will reference it!

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

The more time went on after he had this special encounter with you, the more his imagination started to go into… naughty territories. At first he scolded himself for thinking such things about you, but slowly he started to accept his lewd fantasies as he timidly rubbed his bulge. In the end, pathetic whines escaped his lips while he rutted his closed dick into his palms, wishing you were the one touching him.

Dr.Seraph's not the type to be fighting on the field. Usually he is behind his computer or monitor, watching his inventions do the heavy work for him. At the very least he will use weapons that don't require hand to hand combat. Since Vincent uses intercoms to talk to you, nothing can stop him from doing other activities during fights. While he interacts with you, he sometimes pathetically strokes his dick, trying his best to keep down his moans.

You’re too busy anyway to hear his whimpers and if not, you just think his creations are connected to him in some way. He must be crying out in pain! 

Watching you destroy everything in your path, while groaning and flexing your perfect body makes him cum in a matter of seconds. You’re already so hot when you’re covered in sweat, he would kill to see you oiled u—WHO SAID THAT! 

I think we can all easily guess that this guy has a huge praise kink. Nothing can turn him on more than you whispering into his ear how much of a good and smart boy he is. 

Like I said before, Dr. Seraph is a bit of a masochist even if he doesn’t like to admit it. What he loves the most is if you go back to being soft right after you slap, spank or bite him. In his head it’s proof that no matter how many times you fought him, deep down you cared about him just like you do now. 

After pressing your foot on his cock, praise him and gently rub his length in a comforting way, that will make his eyes roll back.

Vincent loves feeling like he is being taken care of, so please take him in your arms while you ram yourself into him or bounce on his dick.

He wants to be close with you as much as he physically can, that being a result of his years of fighting you from afar. He especially relishes in nuzzling his head against you, whatever it be your stomach, your chest, etc. 

No matter the position, he prefers it when you are towering over him. He just wants to admire you in all your glory. 

He cries a lot during sex, his cock and prostate are just that sensitive.

Also very very shy while doing it. He might try to hide his face multiple times, especially if you do some dirty talk. You can use this to your advantage to do some light teasing. 

Despite Vincent being a very small guy, let's say that his dick compensates for it by being over average, measuring 7 inches when hard (yes he is indeed proud of it.)

He doesn’t talk much during sex, not that he isn’t vocal, quite the contrary. You will know he is enjoying it if he keeps making whimpers and moans. 

 It’s just that the pleasure makes it very difficult for him to put coherent phrases together. The most he can do is say two or three words at a time. 

Aftercare is a must! He really wants to be able to cuddle and relax in your arms when everything is done. It’s like the cherry on top for him, it brings everything together. 

If you were really rough with him he might fall asleep against you quickly, however it's not because he is unconscious that his arms will let you go out of his grasp. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

[terminallydiseased]

content warning — nsfw (lewd), vincent x reader, clothed sex, overstimulation, begging, slight praising, boss/employee relationship, handjob, anal.

author's note — fuuuck.... sex penis?

summary — your boss wanted you in his office, excusing yourself from your job for a bit.

your head was spinning, the pleasure hazing your mind and jumble of noises and incoherent words escape your lips. vincent rolls his hips inside your hole, letting out small grunts and groans as he silences you with force, covering your mouth with his hand, the other hand gripped firmly on your hip.

you were bent over on his desk, taking his cock like a good boy you are to him, but you were greedy, wanting more, begging for more, yet all you could let out are noises and cries, vincent knows what you want, but he likes teasing you, tormenting you. fucking you so hard that you're so close to cumming but just can't.

"apologies, dear, you're gonna have to use your words." he mutters against your neck, he could see you clawing the desk, trying to stabilize yourself, and it was just too much for you. he thumbs the slit of your tip, earning a whimper from you, you tried your best to form your words but his roughness with you didn't help at all, in fact, made it worse.

"poor thing, i can't understand you with all that pathetic babbling." he chuckles, his voice gruff and raspy. letting go of your mouth as he tells you not to be loud. "s-sir, ah-! please, please... need it so bad..." you plead, pressing yourself against his hips desperately as he emits a low groan.

you both were a mess, you might need to change clothes soon because there's a chance you'd spurt your fluids on your trousers, which was already down to your ankles with your belt and boxers. vincent here has his hair messed up, disheveled even, he has his pants up, it's just his zipper undone to fill you with his dick.

"please...?" you beg once more, feeling his finger tracing the vein on your cock, your body shuddering at the feeling. "i'll consider." he responds, hearing you whine from his answer.

he pulls himself out from you, the tip only kissing and teasing your hole as he harshly thrusts back in, angling himself at your prostate, his hand finally jerking your weeping shaft off. you could feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head because of it, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, drool leaking out of your lips while you let out more noises.

he pushes your head flat onto his desk, fucking you harder. "i told you to not make a sound, did i not?" he reprimands, making you bite down on your lower lip with a muffled cry. "good boy."

the way he flatters you makes you shiver, you could feel yourself nearing your release even more, trying your best to hold back any noises. "i'm- ngghh-! i'm close, sir..!" your legs tremble, wanting to relax as vincent increases his pace, signaling he was also close.

as his pace fastens, you swore you were seeing stars, your body was gonna pass out from such ecstacy you were feeling, you gripped on the edge of the desk, your throat wanting to let out a loud moan as vincent covers your mouth again, letting you moan onto his hand.

you both finally came, vincent pushing himself inside you and painting your walls white, while your dick shoots out cum all over the floor, both you and your boss gasping and heaving for a moment.

it was only for a moment until he finally pulls out, zipping his pants and letting out a contented sigh.

"clean up and go back to your job, i'll be expecting you to come back here later."

divider, banner.

[tra1nchi]

My tummy hurts ngl,, Bttm male reader,, MINORS DNI!!,, Dub/non-con,, evil ruler,, forced femininity,, death mention,, reader referred to as her like once,,>○<

He is ruthless,, power is all his mind can think about,, not caring for any souls lost in any of his purges of smaller kingdoms,, he needs more land,, more riches and especially more concubines,,

He set eyes on your quaint little village off in the forested lands by his kingdom,, your father, The chief wanted to make peace with Vincent's kingdom,, in order to keep you,, his son safe and sound away from any danger,,

You were never a fighter!! A sweet little boy who'd rather keep to himself then pick up a sword >□< The chief was surprisingly okay with it,, he was a kind man allowing your more capable and sword trained sister to take your spot as next in line!!

Though none of her skills would help you,, Vincent and his army grew angered by your fathers peace claims,, "Your land is fertile and therefore under my law, I can take what is mine." He declared in a rather aggressively written letter,, but your father fought back,, that's his families land!!

You cradled your dying sister in your arms,, She sobbed and begged for you to end her pain but you refused,, you couldn't!! That was your own sibling!! You didn't even hear Vincent walking in,, the tall man looked down at you and intentionally thought you were a poor little maiden,,

Something snapped in his mind,, ripping you away from your dying sister,, cradling you in his arms as you struggled,, His voice softened cooing you like you were a wounded animal,,

He had taken you in as a concubine,, you didn't know if he was delusional or just plain crazy as he never seemed to acknowledge you as a man,, always "My wife.." or his "Baby girl.."

He even ignored your poor cock during the roughest of sex!! >○< you angered him by not immediately undressing for him,, what?? How dare you do that to him,, he has treated you lavishly,,

His white hair was damp with sweat,, his arm hooked under you leg,, his large hand digging into your soft flesh,, Your cock pathetically weeped against your tummy,, he wasn't touching it at all!! "Little slut,, maybe you should birth my heirs hm?" His voice was heavy in your ear,, his cock pumping in and out of your tight hole,, your legs trembled from the sheer force of him!! He isn't gentle!!

He gripped at your hair, shoving your face down into the mattress,, His hand finally touching your cock,, but he was gentle,, so annoyingly gentle!! "Whore. You like this don't you? Being treated like a dumb fucking girl, getting her pussy all filled up." letting out an almost playful giggle,, staining your insides with his cum.

[harbinger-of-enmity]

Delicate . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Trans Sunday x GN Reader 🪽

✒︎ Notes; Transmale Sunday (usage of words p-ssy, c-nt and c-it), gender neutral reader, dom reader, sub Sunday, face sitting, hint of overstimulation, short work… Let me know if I missed anything!

✒︎ Vincent’s Ramblings; Repost because Tumblrs being weird and hid this for a bit on my other accoubt, lawl. sorry if the endings poor, i never know how to end my works 🫶😭

Sunday felt you press your hands into his hips, pulling him closer to your face, a shrill cry escaping him when your thumb dragged over his swollen clit.

Here you had Sunday, the powerful head of the Oak Family, sitting on your face, crying as you bullied his pussy with your mouth. You didn’t quite know how you ended up with Sunday riding your face, but you did know the sweet sounds the man released were like a drug.

Your hands squeezed the supple flesh of Sunday’s thighs, his pale skin taking on a red hue as you did. Sunday moaned, hands pawing at anything he could reach, “[Name]- ‘S too much! Ahh ha—“ Sunday uttered these words but pressed himself further against your face, gasping as your tongue sunk deeper into him.

His thighs squeezed your face, Sunday’s knuckles turning white from how tightly he balled his fists. Sunday’s wings flapped as you pulled your tongue in and out of his body, frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“I’m gonna cum! I— Oh, Aeons!” Sunday’s hands curled around his headboard, back arching. You felt his cunt squeeze around your tongue, and you purposely pressed it against his walls, ripping a cry from him.

You felt the bitter, almost sour, taste of Sunday’s fluids on your tongue but couldn’t help the need for more, more of Sunday on your tongue. Pulling your tongue along his most sensitive places, hearing a sweet mewl escape his lips.

Sunday felt that familiar pain bubbling up in his belly, lips parting in a gasp at the feeling, “Ffhh— [Name],” He croaked out, lifting his hips off your face. Your gaze met Sunday’s, the hazy look in his eyes barely processing your face, “Thank you..” Sunday murmured weakly, sitting himself atop your chest.,

The little wings on the sides of his face puffed a bit when you grunted at the feeling of his weight landing atop your body. He squeaked out a quick apology, still within his pleasured haze, too dumb to process the world around him completely.

You reached up to cup Sunday’s face, chuckling as he leaned into your touch, “You okay, birdie?” You asked softly, Sunday nodding against your hand in response. He shifted off your torso, laying beside you, tucking his face into your neck. You could only laugh in response, running your hand through his soft hair.

It wasn’t long until you heard his snoring in your ear, the soft rasp filling the quiet room. You continued to pet Sunday’s head until you yourself fell asleep, holding the Halovian close to your chest.

[toon-topaz]

My Arc 7 experience starting off strong, this scene was so fucking gay like Subaru? Buddy? You wanna...you wanna talk about that maybe?

[crypticdesire]

some sub slasher thoughts

MINORS DNI

includes vincent sinclair, jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, michael myers, brahms heelshire, and stu macher (around 2.4k words)

a note from vern: i haven't posted any fics about slashers yet, but the recent asks about slashers on pallas's blog made me want to share some of my hcs for some of my fav slashers. it's really a jumble of some broader hcs and some specific fantasies, which ended up being longer than i intended... i think i could write at least 10 different fics based off the content in this post ^^'

ANYWAYS content warnings will be listed with each slasher so make sure you read those! mentions of reader are all gn and implied top reader. cw will state if there's a mention of the reader having specific genitalia

VINCENT SINCLAIR cw: hypno, dollification, period sex + blood (vincent being one menstruating), reader mentioned having cock

➵ vincent is always so stuck in his mind trying to create the perfect art or be the perfect brother, so he needs you to help him unwind

➵ loves taking baths with you where he can sit between your legs and have you play with his hair and his cunt

➵ he also enjoys hypno because he gets the rare chance to not think at all. he just gets to mindlessly follow your instructions, laying still as he enjoys your touch and experiences orgasm after orgasm

➵ when it’s that time of the month, vincent especially needs your help. not only is he suffering from cramps but he finds all the thoughts in his head are louder and harsher making it too easy to become frustrated with himself over the smallest things

➵ it feels so good to have your cock inside him, letting him sign what pace he wants to feel your length gliding against his walls. alleviating his pain and pushing his insistent thoughts to the edges of his mind. he’s embarrassed by the thought of messiness at first but finds that the sight of his blood coating your fingers or smeared across the bottom half of your face is its own form of art that entrances him

➵ it’s not the only new form of art you make him aware of. you show him that he himself can be beautiful art through dollification. you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel pretty and he enjoys it even more when you do it by dressing him in pretty clothes and braiding strands of his hair. you tell him he looks just as beautiful as the wax sculptures he makes and when hypno is added he can feel like one for an extended moment. it's only in a hypnotized state that he lets you pose his body in front of a mirror with his mask off, allowing him to see the way you caress your precious doll

JASON VOORHEES cw: chastity device, piss, reader mentioned having a cock, role play, mention of murder

➵ just wants to be praised. pls call him a good boy and tell him how pretty he is!!

➵ i think he’s so eager to please you that once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll practically try out any kink you introduce him to, especially ones that give you control over him

➵ he gets turned on just by the process of you guiding him through a new kink, patiently explaining why you enjoy it, what you’re doing, how it might make him feel, possible limits to establish, etc.

➵ specifically, I think about that scenario with a chastity cage. he gets so turned on by you talking about it and what you’re going to do that he gets erect before you even put the cage on him. he’d be worried he disappointed you and wouldn’t enjoy being shamed for it, so tell him how cute he is and how much you’d enjoy helping him get prepped for it

➵ i also imagine that he especially likes a chastity device with a urethra rod so he has to get permission from you to pee

➵ something he really enjoys with or without the cage is cockwarming! he loves the feeling of you inside of him and when you praise him for sitting still. he finds it especially thrilling when you’re cockwarming him out in the open having to remain still even though someone could come across you any second, his senses elevated as he becomes super aware of his surroundings

➵ another discovery he makes is that he loves engaging in role play, especially when it involves a future victim who isn’t aware they’re taking part in it. after they’re killed he is so so sensitive and wants you to tell him how well he did with the scene and how that person deserved it

➵ just constantly desperate to hear you assure him that all his actions please you!

BUBBA SAWYER cw: reader is implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, feminization, exhibitionism

➵ he gets so excited anytime you touch him, and when you kiss him he can’t keep his hands still or stop himself from sloppily kissing or licking your skin

➵ he never takes long to cum, and even though he easily falls into overstimulation he prefers for you to fuck him roughly and loves when you pinch his clit, spank his pussy, or leave hickeys on his inner thighs or stomach

➵ he wants you to call him your pretty girl! he gets so excited when you buy him dresses or lingerie he has to try them on immediately and have you fuck him in it

➵ you have to patiently help him build up to it, but he ends up enjoying exhibitionism! he’s frequently worried about trespassers that could be a danger to you or his family, but you help him face that fear by convincing him to let you fuck him outside in a semi open space.

➵ he wears dresses and his pretty woman face for your outside rendezvous. you shower him with compliments and praise as you always do; additionally, you tell him that if anyone did happen to see you fucking, the only thing they’d be able to think about is how jealous they were of you for being able to fuck such a pretty girl.

➵ if given the option, his favorite place outside for you to fuck him is in the back of a pickup truck, especially when you’re on your knees fucking him against the back window where he can see your reflections

➵ on days when you can tell he’s up for it you coax him to ride you. he’s so used to being submissive in different aspects of his life that it takes him a while to understand that you’re giving him control of his movements and the pace you go at

➵ you have to guide him a lot the first few times and help him find what feels the best for him. you also have to help him choose what to do with his hands because not knowing what to do with them in the beginning, he instinctively covers his masked face with them

➵ he still prefers for you to be the one in control and fucking him but occasionally wants to ride you finding that he enjoys it when he’s feeling sexy and wants to last longer, drawing out your intimate time together

MICHAEL MYERS cw: voyeurism, reader mentioned having a cock, pet play, mention of role play and masochism

➵ definitely a voyeur, watching people without them knowing being so natural for him. when he finds himself attracted to you, i can see him not only watching you masturbate for pleasure but, being inexperienced, he wants to make mental notes of what you like, and how he might touch you if he ever did

➵ in my mind, I can picture him watching the way you move your hand on your cock, and without even realizing he begins to mirror your movements with his own hand, at least the best he can with his knife as the substitute he’s unconsciously using for your dick

➵ idk i’ve always liked the idea of him doing pet play with you before he’s even comfortable enough to let you touch him. tho that is very cat coded ig

➵ it’s not hard to imagine how the idea of a bell would come up with him always lurking. like just thoughtlessly saying he needed to wear a bell when he catches you off guard one time, and then considering your words making an offhand remark that a cat collar would actually look quite cute on him. you don’t think too much about your words until you come home one day with mikey sitting on your bed with a cat collar on the bed beside him

➵ after that, the kitty comments you direct at mikey come frequently and it's not too long before you convince him to wear the cat ears you bought as well. in getting closer to you it's easier to add another layer than taking off his mask physically and metaphorically speaking. and he discovers he’s really turned on by the fact that you call him "my kitty"

➵ he’s also a silly guy though so he definitely takes off the collar sometimes so he can still surprise you. just tilting his head in that cute way when you point out it’s obvious he scared you on purpose

➵ fast forward to when he does let you touch him… i can see him, especially at first, liking when you give his unclothed cock a hand job with his overalls still on, him holding the top together so really just his cock and a bit of his happy trail are visible. I think it helps him ease into things and I also see him preferring not to have his cum on his own skin so he likes that it’s spurting onto his clothes instead

➵ some other things I think he likes but won't go into detail about are you using toys on him, role play, you playing with his tits, and him just being a general masochist!

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE cw: pet play, scent kink, piss, possessiveness, reader mentioned having cock, somnophilia

➵ really he could be summarized as a puppy boy and a brat, but let’s talk about it anyway!

➵ he has a major scent kink and being a puppy boy and a brat ofc that means he’s going to be pissing on some of your things

➵ it always happens when you’re gone - how dare you leave him alone! - sometimes it’s because he gets too carried away humping your pillow but other times it’s out of jealously

➵ oh? you bring something new home that someone ELSE gave to you? pisses on it.

➵ oh? there’s this scent of cologne that he’s never smelled on your jacket before? pisses on it.

➵ oh? you’re going to make him spend a night alone in your bed? pisses on it.

➵ i also like the idea of him putting on your undergarments when you’re not home from your bin of dirty clothes of course. he’s always struggled to look at himself in mirrors but it’s different when he can focus his attention on the way he plays with himself while wearing something of yours. he doesn’t even try to hide it, you undressing him that evening to find him still wearing your undergarments stained with his cum

➵ his actions require some form of punishment, which he only enjoys if you reward him for taking the punishment like a good boy.

➵ peeing on your things instead of his pee pad? well, you’ll just have to tie him up and make him watch you piss on it since he doesn’t know how to. it makes him so upset knowing that he could be your pee pad or urinal instead. he could have your scent on him. he only lets you tie him up because afterward, he gets to suck your cock, perhaps getting lucky enough to taste a small dribble of piss that was left in your bladder.

➵ he’s not allowed to sleep in your bed for one night? only if you let him ride you on it the next day. while he loves being roughly fucked by you, liking the thought that you can’t contain yourself, he also wants to ride you from time to time

➵ you often keep him in check making sure he doesn’t get too carried away, but when he rides you let him be as eager as he pleases. he can fuck himself on your cock at whatever pace he likes, for however long he likes, and touch you wherever he wants

➵ you have to give him permission on specific nights when he’s allowed play with your cock while you're sleeping because if not you’d wake up every morning with your cock being warmed by his mouth or his hole

STU MACHER cw: pet play, implied that you aren't exclusive, facefucking with reader implied to have cock/strap on, overstimulation, mention of stuffing + emetophilia, piss, one mention of reader who menstruates + period sex + blood, mention of drug use

➵ whew playful puppy boy that tries to hide how obsessed he is with you and how badly he wants you to be obsessed with him

➵ he doesn’t have to be the only one you play with, but if other pets are around he has to prove he’s your good boy, the best boy

➵ he’s always doing something to get some type of reaction out of you for his own amusement, constantly testing your limits when you’re alone trying to see how much he can get away with. and he likes it when you push his limits in a different way

➵ seeing how long he can let you face fuck him even when he’s gagging and tears dot the corner of his eyes

➵ seeing how long he can watch you fuck someone else without touching himself if he wants to fucked himself

➵ seeing how many times he can cum, which has to be at least until he’s overstimulated and crying

➵ seeing how much he can eat before he’s throwing up

➵ seeing how long he can hold his piss for you. though he’s not satisfied by just drinking water and holding. he only enjoys it if you’re teasing him or he’s teasing you by making it harder for himself to hold

➵ ways he likes you to tease him include edging him, straddling him and pressing on his bladder, not letting him press his legs together, making him watch you wet yourself, and pouring water onto his groin

➵ ways he likes to tease you and himself include always insisting he can drink more, showing you how many jumping jacks he can do, grinding against his puppy pad, and masturbating in front of you sometimes while on the phone with billy

➵ if you menstruate he wants to go down on you. he loves the mess and will go out of his way to make it as messy as possible

➵ he also just likes to go down on you in general. at a certain stage of being high, all he wants to do is have his head between your thighs, laying there for as long as you let him. he’ll rotate between moving his tongue against you languidly, kissing anywhere his lips can reach, and nuzzling his face into you

[genshindsau]

Summary: Scaramouche knew the rules and what happens when he breaks them and yet he continued to do so. The day went by without you punishing him and yet the following day from the moment he woke up until the moon shone, he was tormented and teased to the breaking point.

Content warning: dom!reader, sub!scaramouche, dom/sub universe, edging, vibrator is left inside of scaramouche, teasing, mentions of somno, aimed to be gender neutral reader, love sick reader, fem!reader, touching over clothes, anal, butt plug, teasing, use of commands, mentions of subspace, dub-con towards the end (scaramouche says no but there is a safeword in place), public play(?), mentions of nonsexual dom/sub, scaramouche passing out, male squirting/wetting, aftercare is implied but not described, mindbreak(?), begging, scara calls reader master

Scaramouche wanted to yell, wanted to scream, wanted to curse you out - also wanted to curse himself out. However, he refrained; knowing that everything that happened starting from the moment he woke up was his fault.

He was still hazy with sleep as you maneuvered him. Placed on his stomach, he yawned into the pillow which was quickly replaced with a moan. His hips arched up into the cool, wet fingers that were prodding around his rim.

"You didn't think I'd forget about your behavior yesterday?"

He smirked against the pillow. "Oh and here I thought you forgot." He was teasing and you knew not to take what he said to heart. You both agreed not to do anything last night due to general tiredness and a rough day. Yes, Scaramouche was expecting - and looking forward - to be punished last night but you took a step back, not feeling like you were in the right headspace to do anything like that. Thus you both pushed it back.

You tsked and two of your fingers pushed into him. He winced at the slight burn from the stretch but didn't try to move away. Your other hand rubbed the skin of his waist.

"hahh - y/n," the curl of your fingers left you brushing against the one spot that leaves him seeing stars. Perhaps it was the sleepiness that was still lingering but even the slightest graze of your fingers left him moaning out happily.

Instead of getting him off right there, you pulled back before inserting one more finger. You moved your fingers, opting to stretch him out.

"What're you doing," he slurred out, slightly annoyed that you were not letting him cum.

"Hm, you didn't think this was you're punishment did you?" You tsked, "No, sweet boy this is just your preparation."

"Preparation?"

You hummed happily. "Yup, for this." You eagerly picked up an object that left him blanching.

He squirmed in his spot next to you, trying not to gain the attention of your friends. He glared at you from the corner of his eye. The two of you both had the day off for the first time in almost two month and you took the opportunity to plan today to the tee. The first plan was meeting a few of your friends for breakfast.

The plug inside of him was bearable at first. Yes when he sat down he had to dig his nails into his palm due to the position pushing the plug inside of him even deeper but other than that he was able to manage and even have a conversation with ajax and aether.

"I thought most of them wouldn't have agre-eed," His voice raised in pitch as he felt a vibrating inside of him. It was on a low setting most likely but it was still a sudden change.

Ajax's eyebrows furrowed "you good?"

Scaramouche coughed, "yes, sorry. As I was saying…" He looked over at you who was in your own conversation with Lumine. He spotted the small smirk on your lips and forced his eyes away. He was not going to give you the satisfaction.

You were barely listening to Lumine. Instead, opting to gaze at scaramouche. You stuck your hand into your pocket and ran a finger over the screen of your phone. The sudden increase in vibration left Scaramouche breathless. Luckily he wasn't in the middle of talking so he could restrain the moan. You gaze flickered down to his lap which was now supporting a growing bulge.

"Oy, lover girl," Lumine snapped her fingers in front of your face.

"What's up?"

"Seriously, you get more love sick every day." She sounded annoyed, but the teasing tone was obvious.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wrapped your hand around Scaramouche waist, squeezing the skin before pulling him closer to you. "Just look at him." You nuzzled your cheek against him.

"What - what are you doing," Scaramouche flushed due to the attention. His hand came up to the side of your face trying to push you away. You took this chance to increase the vibrations even more. He stilled, his hips jerking slightly. "ahh - ahem," he cleared his throat.

You grabbed one of his legs and rested it over your own, pretending to just want to be closer to him. Your friends laughed at the scene, used to this behavior from you. However, this position forced his legs open a little more. Luckily you're friends were sitting across from you, rather than next to you. They couldn't see your hand creeping up the inside of his thigh.

Your other hand decreased the vibrations, not wanting him to get overstimulated so early in the day - not when you have so much planned. After getting him a few minutes to calm down, your hand moved from his thigh, closer to the bulge in his pants. He gasped out as your hand rested over it and gave him a squeeze, cutting the conversation off and drawing attention towards him.

"Sorry, sorry," you raised your hands up innocently. "Wasn't watching my hands."

Scaramouche looked ready to yell at you at the insinuation but laughter filled the table.

"Who knew little scaramouche was so sensitive." Ajax teased him, pinching is cheek from across the table not realizing how true his words were. Your group of friends have know each other for a long time, sex topics were bound to come up every now and then.

"I swear to god I will snap your fingers," Scaramouche gritted out, glaring daggers at Ajax.

"Don’t be so mean," you playfully chided him.

"Like he knows any other way to be." Lumine shrugged but there was a smile on her face.

"I know," Ajax perked up. "Why don’t you command him to be nice for a whole day. Or at least nice to me; after putting up with him so long I think I deserve it." 

You rolled your eyes at his comment. It wasn't a true suggestion, Ajax was just trying to get Scaramouche riled up. "Hah? I'll kill you." Scaramouche looked ready to jump across the table and strangle him.

Luckily the arguing was cut short as food was placed in front of the five of you. The others didn't blink an eye as you platted Scaramouches food and then your own. Once he swallowed a few bites, you took the chance to turn the vibrations on again. You put it on the smallest setting, not wanting him to get overwhelmed while he was eating. The only indication that he felt them was when he dug his nails into your thigh. The rest of breakfast went smoothly - asides from Scaramouche becoming increasingly quiet.

The two of you were the last to leave, you opted to remain behind and order a smoothie to go. When the two of you were alone, you moved your head to the crease of his neck. He huffed but didn't push you away. "How do you feel?" Looking up at him you had a cheeky smile on your face. He glared down at you, refusing to give you what you want.

"Feel fine, why wouldn't I?"

"Just checking." You didn't seem perturbed at all by his attitude.

Now that the two of you were alone and further in the corner of the restaurant, you openly pulled him further into you. You ran your hands up his thighs, making sure to dig your nails into his skin that was visible due to his shorts. The scratch marks left over were a welcome addition.

The soft kisses on his neck, left him squirming underneath the ticklish feeling. "Were alone now. Can you at least kiss me?" You opted out of giving him an actual command for the time being.

He angled his head to face you and put on a false smile. He leaned forward until his nose brushed against your own. Right before you leaned in to press your lips to his he pulled back, "Nope." He wore a genuine smile this time at the frown on your lips.

"You really want to do this?" You cooed out, putting forth false innocence. "I think you're forgetting just what position your in." You pulled your phone out of your pocket this time, letting him see the screen. He watched as your thumb ran over the screen and, in turn, as the vibrations increased in intensity. He flinched at the ministrations and bit down on his lip.

One of your hands reached around the pull at his lip, freeing it and running your finger over his lips. Refusing to be the only one affected, he brought his tongue out and discreetly licked at your thumb. You just smile and watched in amusement as he fell forward when your other hand grasped at his cock through his shorts. You couldn't really jerk him off but you rubbed your hand around. He rested his head on the table and you could see the deep breaths he took through the movement of his back.

"You may want to sit up. I see the server coming over."

The fear of being seen caused Scaramouche to lurch up. Part of him just thought you were faking but he did see the server coming over with your drinks. He dug his nails into his palm and situated himself, making sure that it appeared that nothing was amiss - that there was nothing currently buzzing inside of him.

After paying for the drinks, you stopped the vibrations and stood up. "C'mon, there's still more to do."

Scaramouche was sure you were torturing him. You knew what you were doing; dragging him around town, messing with the vibrations and 'innocently' feeling around his body. Now, in the dressing room, it was the first semblance of privacy he has gotten since the morning when you first inserted the vibrator.

"Try this on," you threw a set of clothes towards him. He ran his finger over the cloth and glared at you as he recognized the sheer silk.

"You're not leaving?" He watched as you sat down on a chair in a large dressing room.

"Nope." You made it a point to lean back and get comfortable.

He grumbled under his breath and turned away from you. He discarded his clothes until he was left only in his underwear. He tucked his finger in the waistband and hesitated for only a second before tugging them down, pretending not to pay you any attention.

You felt your own arousal stir in you as you gazed at the butt plug. If you looked close enough you could probably see it move due to his clenching. He really was cute, trying to act unfazed but his body was giving him away. "Ah - ah - ah," you chided him. "Turn around. I wanna see."

"You can see plenty, I'm already naked as is." He threw a look over his shoulder.

Your lips pursed. He failed to notice as one of your hands returned to your pocket.

His knees buckled as the vibrations started up once more and his hand fell to the mirror in front of him to hold himself up. He took a deep breath before standing up once more. He's felt on edge since lunch, the constant uncertainty of when you'll start the vibration. He knew you weren't going to let him cum and he refused to ask, his pride too large. 

"Having fun," he managed to get out behind clenched teeth.

"Quite. C'mon now I picked these clothes out personally."

He grabbed the clothes and stepped into them. He pulled it up his body and couldn't deny that he didn't like the feeling of the silk on his skin. However, one thing he failed to noticed until he put the clothes on was that it was crotchless.

He heard your footsteps but did not turn around. "Bend over."

"Why?"

"Jus' wanna get a better look." You shrugged and he wanted to strangle you. You seemed so cool and calm compared to him, whose body felt like it was burning with desire.

The look on his face must have been obvious but you beat him to the punch. "Bend over."

His body seized up as the command registered in his mind. His body acted without hesitation, bending over, his hands bracing themselves on the mirror. "Good boy," you praised him as your ran a hand down his arched spine. Your hands trailed down until it reached the plug inside of him.

As the vibrations dulled down, you lightly tugged the plug out until the thickest part of the plug was stretching at his rim.

"ngh," he brough one hand to his mouth and bit down on it, trying to suppress his sounds. You twisted it, watching with almost fascination as his skin twitched around it. You then look at the mirror and made eye contact with him. He tried to glare at you but with his red face and bitten lips it was hard to take him seriously.

You then looked further down and caught a glimpse at his cock which was leaking against the cloth on his stomach. There was enough wetness to know that he has been dirtying the cloth since he put it on. Instead of reaching around him, you pushed the plug back inside of him. He let out a sigh.

"Looked close enough yet perv." You just smiled at him before the vibrations increased to its highest level. You pushed the plug in as far as it would go and pushed his waist down to where the angle allowed the vibration to stimulate his prostate.

"Y/n, wa-wait, haah" His hips jerked back, his knees wobbled and he was about to fall if it wasn't for you wrapping an arm around his waist. "'m gonna.." he trailed off because right as he was about to warn you about his impending orgasm, you cut the vibrations off. He lurched in your gasp, crying out as the orgasm was cruelly snatched away. With red-rimmed eyes, "Wha-why?"

"You really didn't think I'd allow you to cum right, its barely been half of the day."

His façade broke at the thought of this going on for the rest of the day. He couldn't think anymore, everything felt all fuzzy.

You noticed the change in his eyes and cupped the side of his face and turned it towards you. "Take these clothes off. Since you've dirtied them, I'll buy them then after that we'll go home, alright love." You recognized the headspace he slipped in and while you weren't ending his punishments it would be best to continue it at home where the two of you were alone.

Luckily it didn't take long to get home. The only hard part was getting him to the car, having too support a good portion of his weight, and then getting him inside of the house but as soon as he was in your house, he collapsed on the couch.

"whew," you wiped fake sweat off of your forehead before looking at Scaramouche. He was flushed and breathing deeply. You noted how he shrugged out of his jacket and was left in only a thin white shirt and his shorts which were bulging against the front.

"I - I don’t know why your acting like you've done any hard work." His voice shook as he talked. He was slipping in and out of a vulnerable headspace but now that the two of you were in private he felt more comfortable.

"Ill have you know that carrying a person up three flights of stairs is hard work."

He rolled his eyes. You just smiled and ran a hand down the side of his face before pushing his hair back.

"You really are pretty, y'know that." It was an absentminded comment but it had a surprising affect on Scaramouche.

It is not like you've never complimented him before but perhaps it is because of his nerves working on overdrive that that comment not only caused him to blush but it also left a noticeable damp spot building on his pants.

"oh," you dropped your gaze to his pants and ran one finger over him. He gasped out and his hips jerked into the touch. "What's this. One compliment and all the bravo from earlier disappears."

"Shut up," there was no real bite in his tone. He shoved your hand away and crawled onto your lap. "Just stop with this, its been hours."

"has it -"

"- don’t play dumb." He cut you off and realized almost right away the mistake he made. Now that the two of you were home, you had free reign to do whatever you want.

Your hands moved to cup his bottom, pulling him forwards so that he grinded against you.

"nghh," his hand fell the sofa next to your head. You had played with the vibrations in the car - bring him right to the edge of an orgasm before turning it off. You managed to do that about five times before you two got home so the overstimulation was sinking in.

As he leaned back, it pushed the plug a little deeper into him. "fuck, y/n." He grinded his hips forward, brushing his bulge against your own stomach. He repeated this motion, desperately chasing the orgasm he has been deprived of all day.

"Stop." He didn't even register the command but his body completely stopped moving. A wet sound slipped past his lips as he shuddered in your grasp.

"That's enough," you reached for the remote on the table in front of you while keeping him in your lap. "How about a movie."

A small groan left him and to get out some of his frustration he dug his nails into the skin of your arms. He was waiting for you to wince or curse but you barely acknowledged him - you even went as far to pet his head, as if consoling a misbehaving puppy.

"fine, fine, whatever." He moved off of you, expecting you to pull him back into you but you let him move to the other side of the couch. He tucked his legs under his chin and made sure not to have any contact with you. However, he realized quite fast what a mistake that was. His body was alight with arousal and yet even as he subtly shifted, it didn't feel as good as when you touched him. Glancing over at you he let out a small curse, hear he was practically panting with arousal while you seemed perfectly content, barely even looking at him instead focusing on the film.

The film passed by and without realizing he had his feet in your lap. You ran a finger over the arch of his bare feet and watched as he struggled to ignore you.

With the credits rolling, you opted to grab his thigh and pull him towards you. You met him half way until you were leaning over him. Even with the defiance he was struggling to show, his eyes were glazed over and out of focus. You angled your thigh so that it was pressed right up against his crotch.

With the new pressure, he grinded his hips against your thigh. The stimulation overwhelmed him and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you down into him trying to get some semblance of comfort. He kept pushing against you and as you pressed kisses to his neck, his head dropped back. The scrap of your teeth followed by the soothing feeling of your tongue left goosebumps forming.

You trailed the kisses down his neck, to his collarbone and down his shirt. He could feel the heat of your breath through his shirt and he couldn't stop the moans that left his lips especially when you sucked at his nipple through the shirt. "Don't cum." You murmured against him and as the command resonated through his body he stopped moving his hips.

"Thatss not fair." Tears welled up in his eyes but you ignored him and continued to move down his body. As your fingers moved under the band of his shorts, he lifted his hips out of instinct but was surprised when you actually pulled his shorts off - leaving his underwear one.

"Y/n," he wailed out, his upper body arching off of the bed. You licked at his cock over the cloth and nuzzled against him. The wetness that seeped through wasn't just from your tongue and saliva but his pre-cum. He was leaking so much that he should be embarrassed but all he wanted was for you to continue with your movements and finally allow him to cum.

When you pulled away, he couldn't help the wail that left him. "nonono I'm - sob - please no more. I'm…" he trailed off and yet as you allowed your hand to pass over his crotch he couldn't help the apologies that left his lips. "I'm sorry - alright - I'm sorry." Tears fell freely down his face, wetting his cheeks and making him look all the more enticing.

"I'm sure you are," you cooed leaning up to press kisses to his cheeks. "Just wait a little longer."  

His eyes widens and his mouth dropped open and you couldn't help but to press a kiss to his pouting lips. He shook his head and clung onto you. "I apologized okay," he couldn't hide how desperate he was. "I cant - I cant do this anymore." You gazed at him, waiting for him to say his safeword and yet he never did.

He dropped his gaze and took a shuddering breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed his eyes with a fist trying to ease the burning of tears behind his eyelids. He felt you grasp his closed fist and bring it down from his face. His eyelids fluttered at the soft feeling of lips kissing them. His hand moved to clutch at the cloth of your pants, shakily clinging to it.

"j-just a little w-while longer," he repeated your words carefully back to you. It was a desperate plea that you would keep your words and that this torture would not last much longer.

"Yeah, sweet boy," you continued to press a flurry of kisses to his eyelids, his cheeks, his forehead until pressing one final kiss to his lips. "Just a little longer. You can do that for me right?"

He nodded and sniffled. "Alright once you calm down we'll get something into your stomach." You shifted so that he could press his face into your shoulder. His legs went to rest across your lap, allowing him to all but burying himself into your side. The hand rubbing across his back left the residue tension seeping out of him. He barely reacted as your hand switched the vibrator on once more but it was on the lowest setting so even in his overly sensitive state it wasn't overwhelming - at least not yet.

His eyes fluttered close and his breath evened out the longer he sat with you on the couch. He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep but the warmth of your body and the comfort of being back in your home left him feeling safe and, in turn, even with the subtle vibrations he sunk into a dazed headspace. He barely moved when you got up, opting to curl into the back of the couch behind him. He brough his knees up to wrap his arms around them which caused the vibrator to shift around inside of him.

Soft pants left his mouth, his tongue hanging out. His hips shifted, trying to grind against something but all he was doing was humping the air.

It was a sight that took your breath away and you couldn't help but to gaze at him from the doorway from the kitchen. He didn't even realize what he was doing. You debated about taking a picture but decided to forgo that thought.

"C'mere love," You held the water bottle to his lips with one hand while the other supported his head. "Need you to drink a little."

As you tipped the bottle, he managed to swallow some but the remained freely flowed down the side of his jaw. You wiped it away and whispered soft praises to him - even as he choked a little due to the buzzing inside of him.

His hands went to cling to your shirt before you could shift away to put the water down. "Don.." his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Trembling, he tried to climb onto your lap and luckily, you allowed him and even went as far as to help him. His head fell to the crease of your shoulder and neck. He was still rutting his hips but rather than actually trying to get pleasure, it seemed to be more of an unconscious act.

"Scaramouche, look at me." Your hands moved to cup the side of his cheeks as you lifted his head so that you could see him. "Oh - oh you really are gone aren't you?" You cooed at him as you took him in. His mouth was dropped open with saliva pooling and about the fall down the sides of his chin. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy as he tried to focus on you.

"please," he whimpered out words. Your thumb moved to rest on the top of his tongue, petting it. His tongue shifted underneath the weight of your tongue and he tried to lick at them. A gag tore through him as you pushed your fingers towards the back of his mouth. He convulsed in your grip as you put more pressure on the back of his tongue. He reflexively cough but you still didn't remove your fingers even as his hands clung onto your wrists.

"Breathe through it," You pushed a little of command into your words so that he would relax and listen to you. He took a deep breath though his nose which allowed him to stop gagging but he was still convulsing a little bit. "Good boy, listening so well." He whined through your fingers as he finally got some semblance of praise from you.

The top of his underwear were almost soaked through due to how long he has been leaking. The buzzing inside of him has dulled enough that he could barely feel it.

Looking at his desperate state you decided that he had had enough. You withdrew your fingers from his mouth and ignored as he cried out and tried to follow him.

"I need you to shift up a little." You grasped his hips and lifted him up a little. He was pliant in your hold. You managed to get enough room to shift his underwear down. He cock bobbed against his stomach and he shuddered as the air hit his wet cock. You allowed him to sit back down on your thighs and push him into your so that your fronts were pressed together.

One of your hands wrapped around to grasp at his bottom before tapping against the vibrator. You pushed it further into him and he lurched against you, his hand coming to wrap around your shoulders and cling onto you. Your other hand slowly turned the vibrator off.

He wailed out as continue to probe the vibrator inside of him, moving it around as if searching for something. When you finally found it - "ah-ha, found it." As you pressed against the spongy spot inside of him he went through a full body convulsion. "please," he was loud enough to be yelling. "pleasepleaseplease, master, let me cum." Even with the abuse against his prostate he was trying so hard not to cum - wanting to behave and be good for you.

You hummed as if thinking deeply about it but before he could start begging again, the vibrations hit him full force. With the vibrator pressed right against his sensitive spot and the second you turned it on - he all but screamed as he release onto your shirt.

"master," his tongue fell out of his mouth. The orgasm the crashed through him was stronger than anything he had felt, his whole body felt like it was bursting with heat. Even after the first orgasm you didn't decrease the vibrations. Instead you left the vibrator inside of him and moved your hands to his waist. "master." It seemed to be the only thing his pleasure-filled mind could say. You forced him to grind against you, his weeping cock brushing against your clothing.

The overstimulation hit him immediately. The first orgasm felt like it was enough to knock him out and now with his softening cock being forced to grind against you and the buzzing still pressing against his insides, he was shaking so badly against you. Without thinking, he tried to pull away from you but you just wrapped your arms around him, stilling his movements. "I cant - I cant - I cant - no - not again - please," he was barley making any sense as he cried out a bunch of different words.

The second orgasm as it was building scaramouche knew it was going to be intense. "Master. Feels…feels funny," he slurred out his words. As the orgasm crashed through him, he wetted your shirt and a some of your neck. He was too out of it to realize that it wasn't just cum that he dirtied you with and not a few seconds after the orgasm the world fell black around him.

Feeling him slouch against you, you turned the vibrations off. Even in his sleep he was twitching and shaking against you. As carefully as you could, you grabbed the end of the vibrator and took it out of him. Luckily it slid right out with a few wet sounds and you were happy the scaramouche was out so that he couldn't hear it and become embarrassed like he usually would. You tossed it to the side of you and grabbed a blanket to wrap around scaramouche's shoulders. He nuzzled against you even closer and you decided that for right now you would ignore the wetness coating your front.

[cobwebbedcat]

Nothing That a Little Gatorade and Expired Aspirin Can't Fix

MINORS DNI

warnings: soft dom top amab gender neutral reader, sub bottom trans male sick! Vincent Sinclair, emetophilia, piss, dirty talking, Vincent is mute, just a hint of odontophilia

Terms used for vincent: cunt, pussy, clit, dick, t-dick

There are not many things that will get you out of your bed and home past midnight, but two texts coming from Bo have you wiping sleep from your eyes and pulling on whatever clothes are closest to you.  

After reading Vincent threw up. Then: Asking for you. Bring meds, you text back a quick omw! Before rushing to the 24/7 CVS and making the drive to the Sinclair’s house, which is of course, obnoxiously far away from Ambrose, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.  

When you enter the Sinclair house, forgoing knocking or announcing yourself considering they’re expecting you, you find Bo in the kitchen halfway through a cigarette and staring at a bottle of Aspirin.  

“Expired two years ago,” he grumbles, still staring at the bottle, refusing to look at you.  

“That’s fine, brought some stuff,” Bo finally looks up when you raise the two bags full of things for Vincent for him to see. It doesn’t show much on his face, but even in the dim light you can see the tension release from his shoulders.  

“Good. Better go see him then,” he huffs, tossing the bottle of expired Aspirin in the trash. You take that as your cue to leave, and hustle down to Vincent’s room.  

He’s curled up in a fetal position on his bed, trying to make himself as small as possible. You gently place your bags at his bedside, and sit on the edge of the bed, running your fingers through his long hair to let him know you’re here. 

Vincent lets out a soft whine and reaches out to hold onto you, looking up at you from behind his mask.  

“Bo said you threw up,” you say softly. Vincent cringes, then nods. “Think you could sit up for me? I brought some stuff for you,” he uncurls himself, and with your help, he props himself up against a mountain of pillows.  

“Should probably take off your mask,” you hum, wondering how and why he’s even wearing it right now. Vincent huffs, but when you give him a stern look, he crumbles, and takes it off. 

With his face revealed to you, you can see how flushed he is. Gently, you place the back of your hand against his forehead. He nearly flinches away from you, but once your skin touches his he leans into you, starved for your touch. He’s not worryingly hot, but definitely has a fever.  

“Poor thing,” you coo, reaching into your bags and getting him medicated. You brought Gatorade as well, and make him drink as much as he can manage (which isn’t a lot before he gags).  

“Alright, well the meds are going to take a bit before they start making you feel much better. Is there something I could do to help?”  

Vincent stares at you for so long you wonder if he heard you. Just when you’re about to repeat yourself, he looks away from you and signs 

“Lay down with me?” And oh, isn’t that sweet. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.  

“Of course, darling,” you lift the blankets and slide into bed next to him. Vincent slowly inches towards you until he’s nestled against your body, humming softly and inhaling your scent. You brush your fingers through his hair until his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.  

You’re brought out of slumber for a second time during the night to the sound of Vincent getting sick in the bathroom.  

Dragging yourself out of the comfort of his bed you make your way to him. He’s crouched over the toilet, catching his breath from the work his body is putting him through. He whimpers softly when you sit yourself next to him, and tenderly move his hair from his face and gather it into a ponytail.  

You kiss the back of his neck which is now exposed, and Vincent groans as he lazily lifts a hand up to fingerspell, 

“Leave.” 

“Absolutely not, sweetheart,” you muse softly, bringing the hand that’s not holding his hair back to rub comforting circles into his stomach, “couldn’t possibly go when you're in such a state,” you decide not to add how you think he looks cute like this, all helpless. Vincent is either too tired or too sick to protest more. Even if he wanted to, another wave of nausea hits him, and he’s puking again.  

You can feel the way his stomach clenches and pulses under your touch. He’s sick for a while, working up a sweat as he empties his stomach over and over again. Softly you whisper praise and apologies, sorry for the discomfort and pain he’s going through, even if it does make you a bit flustered.  

As soon as he’s done, you’re kissing him all over, gentle pecks which remind him that you’re here and you’ve got him. Vincent slumps into your hold, his hands coming up to cover his face. You know he appreciates you being there, even if he’s somewhat embarrassed.  

You hold him close, kissing him, and gently rubbing at his stomach until Vincent rises on shaky legs. You follow his lead, and once you’re on your feet he leans his body weight on you in front of the sink, letting you get his toothbrush ready for him.  

When it comes to brushing his teeth, ridding his mouth of any leftover bile, Vincent doesn’t take the brush from you, rather he closes his eyes and opens his mouth.

Cooing you take his face into one of your hands and brush his teeth for him. You’re especially gentle with him, taking care not to activate his gag reflex. He moans as the soft bristles brush their way across each tooth and along his tongue. He’d normally never let you baby him so much. You’re eating up how easily he submits to your coddling.  

“Sorry, I was gross,” Vincent signs as soon as he lifts his head from spitting into the sink. You hold back a laugh; it’s funny that he’s more embarrassed by puking in front of you than admitting the heinous and cruel murders he’s committed.  

“You were never gross,” you assure him, cupping his scarred face and bringing him into a sweet kiss now that his mouth is clean. You wrap an arm around his waist, “back to bed?” he lets out an affirmative hum and lets himself be led by you.  

“Think you could eat a little something before you fall back asleep?” he doesn’t seem all that tired anyways, and despite the grimace he makes at the prospect of eating, Vincent nods all the same.  

From the bags you’d brought with you, you pull some inoffensive snacks, and more Gatorade. Vincent does the best he can before grimacing and pushing the food away. Pleased that he was able to stomach anything at all, you make him take another dose of medication before laying down again. 

“I am hot,” he complains as he snuggles up under the covers with you. You bring the back of your hand to his forehead and Vincent’s eyelashes flutter shut.  

“You are hot,” you hum, “I think your fever’s back. The meds should kick in again soon,” you state, attempting to be reassuring. Vincent sighs and goes so still and so quiet that you think he’s maybe fallen asleep. 

“Hot here,” he finally signs clumsily, avoiding eye contact as he takes your hand and brings it to his clothed crotch.  

“Oh?” You can’t tell if the flush on Vincent’s cheeks is from fever or fluster, but it makes him look adorable all the same. “I can help out with that,” you purr, feeling desire stir in you as he lets out the softest moan and nods.  

“You’ve been so cute tonight,” you hum, pulling the blankets back and stationing a leg over either side of him, caging him in, as you rub your thumb on his clit through his sleep pants.

Vincent whines, turning the scarred half of his face to hide it in the pillow. “I mean it, letting me take care of you, and being so helpless makes you really cute,” you hum. His thighs clench around your hand, and he jerks his hips, wanting more. 

You’ll give him more when he asks for it, but for the moment you lean in and kiss him as you tease him through his pants.  

Vincent loves your kisses, moaning softly when he feels your tongue lick against his lips. He opens his mouth easily for you, desperate to deepen the kiss. You lick deep into his mouth, forgetting how sensitive he is right now.  

He pushes you away quick, turning to dry heave and gag. He swallows, and the two of you wait a moment, adrenaline coursing through you as you wait to see if he’ll be sick or not. The nausea seems to pass because he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you into another kiss, grinding his cunt into your hand.  

You deepen the kiss once again, this time being careful of just how deep you tongue fuck his mouth, instead sucking on his lip, and letting his tongue into your mouth.

Vincent continues to weakly hump your hand, sighing and moaning at the feeling of your finger circling his clit. It’s not long before you can feel a hot, damp wetness on the outside of his pants. Your cock aches imagining how wet he is.

Finally, Vincent pushes you back to sign “please,” looking up at you with pleading eyes.   

Pulling away, you’re quick to help him out of his pants, revealing his glistening wet pussy to your hungry eyes.  

“Let me eat you out?” you ask, using two fingers to spread his lips apart and look at his hole.  

Vincent makes a strangled noise and nods his head quickly. He regrets that immediately, bringing a hand to his head at the ache that comes from the action. You laugh softly, rubbing gentle circles into his thighs,  

“Careful with yourself baby, you’re not feeling well,” you remind him as you make yourself comfortable between his legs. You kiss his hip bone, then kiss along his skin until your lips reach his erect clit. Vincent sighs and melts into the bed, weakly wrapping his legs around your head, and pushing you further against his pussy.  

You both moan as you take Vincent into your mouth, circling around his t-dick with your tongue, then sucking gently. Bringing your fingers to his wet hole, you gently press two fingers inside of him. He’s hot and practically gushing self-lubricant, opening easily for you. You suck his dick for a minute longer, then move onto the main event.  

Sliding your fingers out of Vincent, you quickly replace them with your tongue, and groan at the taste of him. He makes sweet little sounds as you curl your tongue, pressing it as deep as possible into his hole. His thighs tremble and clench around your head, his hands holding weakly onto your head, pushing you further into his cunt. 

You pull back to return to his clit, sucking hard then swirling your tongue around it. Vincent gasps, his thighs shaking and twitching. You look up at him, and one of his hands has left your head to try and finger-spell something to you. Whatever he’s saying is incomprehensible to you, because the letters get scrambled and lost as his head gets more and more muddled with lust. 

While still looking up at him, you pull of his clit and return to burying your tongue inside of him. Vincent’s hole clenches around you, and then he's shaking his head and mouthing something to you. You figure he must be close to cumming, and double down on your efforts. His breathing hitches and quickens, and then a hot liquid spurts from his cunt and into your mouth.  

Vincent’s not a squirter, and the two of you know that. You open your mouth further as you realize that Vincent is pissing into your mouth. You can hear him whining and squeaking noises of objection, yet his legs tighten around you, keeping you closer. 

You’ll apologize to him later for making him drink all that Gatorade, but for now you moan and slurp hungrily at his cunt as you drink down his piss. Your cock throbs in your pants, and if you weren’t leaking pre before, you are now.  

Even after his stream dies down you lick and lave your tongue along his cunt, making sure he’s all clean, and that you haven’t missed a drop.  

“Sorry,” Vincent signs.  

“Don’t start with that,” you groan, pulling away from his pussy (despite wanting to back in for another bite, so to speak), your voice rough and deep with want, “that was so fucking hot.” He covers his face with his hands, but you can still see him grinning underneath them. 

“Can I fuck you, darling?” you ask, bordering on pleading. Vincent nods, still hiding behind his hands.  

With his permission, you fumble for the lube on his bedside table, nearly vibrating with excitement and arousal. “God, can’t wait to fuck your dirty pussy,” you mutter to yourself, slicking your cock up with lube. “Letting me stick my cock in your piss and spit slicked cunt, christ,” Vincent whines softly at that, tugging on his own hair to find something to occupy his hands.  

“You good on your back?” you ask, knowing that he loves getting fucked on his hands and knees more than anything. Vincent nods, likely far too tired to hold himself up. Even if he prefers doggystyle, you like having him like this, being able to see and hear every reaction he has to your cock stirring up his insides.  

“Perfect,” you purr, holding onto his hips as you press your cockhead against his hole. Vincent hiccups, reaching up to wrap his arms around your neck. Shyly he pulls your head towards his, leaning up and trying to capture your lips in a kiss.  

“Sure you wanna kiss me, baby?” you tease, pressing yourself into him. He whines and you continue, “gonna taste your own piss—hah— on my mouth.” Vincent squeezes around your cock at your words, his mouth dropping open.  

“Please,” he brings a hand down to sign. Always being one to spoil your lover rotten, you lean down and kiss him deeply. Vincent moans, and you can’t tell if it’s because of you pressing yourself further into him, or because he can taste himself in your mouth.  

He’s nice and relaxed around you, opening up so sweetly for your cock. You wonder if he’d been tighter if you’d fucked him before eating him out, if he would have squeezed tighter around you as he tried to stop himself from pissing all over your cock.  

“Fuck,” you sigh, bottoming out inside of him. He’s as hot and flushed inside as his skin is, burning up around your length. You know you shouldn't be happy that he's got a fever, but it feels so fucking good.

Vincent lets out an appreciative sigh, his lashes fluttering shut. “Feelin’ good?” in your haze of lust you’d nearly forgotten how sick he is right now. Vincent nods lazily, but he’s sweating, his long hair sticking to his body. You hum, feeling his forehead again.  

“Oh sweetheart, you’re overheating,” you muse, hoping he’s really feeling alright. Vincent whines,  

“Good, good, more,” he signs in a rush, pulling you back in for another kiss.  

Despite him telling you he’s alright, you fuck him nice and slow, being so tender and fragile with him. You rub circles into his hips as you drag your hips back and forth. Your kisses match the pace, as filthy as ever, but slow and drawn out. You’re in no rush, and you will savor him.  

Vincent accepts the sweet treatment for longer than you’d anticipated, if you’re honest. It doesn’t surprise you when he finally pushes you back to frown at you, cutely demanding "more," his hands sharp and determined as they sign.  

“Just let me know if it’s too much,” you remind him, picking up the pace ever so slightly. The slightest shift has him slightly arching his back off the bed, gasping softly as your cock hits drags along his insides, going deeper and fucking him faster than before. Refusing to get carried away, you keep the pace consistent, even if all you want to do is pound him into the mattress.  

“Once you’re all better I’m gonna ruin you,” you promise. Vincent moans at that, nodding and twitching around you. You bring a hand down to circle your thumb around his clit. He clenches like a vice, letting out a spurt of piss, and wetting your cock.  

“Fuck baby,” you moan, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching.  

“More, say more,” Vincent signs. It takes you a second to remember what you were talking about.  

“Oh, sweetheart, once you’re all better I’ll make your pussy a mess. Fuck, want that? I'll fill your fucking tummy with my cum, make you eat any that drips out of your pussy. Want me cumming in you, dropping load after load into you?" you don’t wait for a response, the words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth now that he’s got you started.

“Want you to piss all over my cock, let me do the same to you, hah, I’ll cover you in my piss, from here,” you bring a hand from his hips to touch his collarbone, peaking out from under his shirt, “down to here,” you quickly move that same hand down to circle his clit. Vincent spasms around you, “shit, I’ll fill you up with it, let it mix with my cum. Hah I know you want that, want to be covered in my piss, to be messy with me, don’t you darling?” 

This time you wait for a response, slowing the movement of your hips, rubbing agonizingly slow circles on his sensitive clit until Vincent nods his head, moving his hips back clumsily against yours. You reward him, speeding up your pace once again.  

“Good boy,” you groan, “gonna cum soon, y’close baby?”  

Vincent doesn’t answer verbally or with his hands, he just lets out a broken keen, and tugs you close as he cums around your cock. You fuck him through it, jackhammering your hips into him, working him over the edge and through the waves of pleasure that coarse through his body.  

You’re so close, but you hold off until he whimpers softly, letting you know he needs you out of him. You pull out, and your hand flies to your cock, jerking yourself off roughly.  

“Fuck, fuck baby, gonna cum all over your cunt, make it mine,” you groan, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder, nuzzling your way through his long black locks until your teeth graze against Vincent’s neck. When your balls finally tighten and your orgasm crescendos, you paint his pussy white, and suck a hickey into his neck.  

Vincent hums, looking down at the mess you’ve made with indifference. You know he prefers it when you cum inside, but it would have been much more messy and time consuming if you had. You may have really wanted to go in and eat him out again, and Vincent is well past his limit.  

“Lets get you cleaned up, huh?” you hum once your limbs stop feeling like jello.  

He's much too tired now to be anything but dead weight. There’s no shame nor shyness found as you carry Vincent into the bathroom and lay him down in the bathtub. He lazily signs your name again and again, meditatively going through the motions as the water rises and submerges his body.  

“Thank you,” he signs as you join him in the bath. 

“Love you,” is your response, largely muffled as you sleepily lean your head on his shoulder.  

He hums softly, and your eyes have drifted shut, so you don’t see him tell you that he loves you back, but you already know he does.  

Taglist: @dead-end-stuff

[marquisedegramont]

You asked for asks and you shall receive: what kind of aftercare does sub Vinnie like, if any?

read as: x reader / x canon

✦ aftercare!

✦ i think vincent would really like aftercare that doesn’t require much effort from both him and his partner since it would take some time for vincent to relax and untense his nerves after sex .

✦ he’d enjoy staying close to his partner since likes being touchy and clingy n all that ♡

✦ he expects aftercare after every sexual encounter ( as one should! )

✦ i’d say he’s pretty spoiled and just overall really stubborn but since his head is a little too foggy after sex, he’d like getting taken care of by someone .

✦ oh and he definitely will try and use aftercare as a way to eat pastries & sweets ˘ ᗜ ˘ and he always gets them of course! he likes the type of aftercare where he just has a moment to breathe because being an emissary of the high table probably doesn’t give one the pleasure of such .

✦ he’s huddling close towards his partner during aftercare. either to annoy them or just because he wants to . either way his partner is gonna be straight up next to him until either one or both of them sleeps

[shrub-rose]

Mr. Pizzapasta

ref pic under the cut

[coryosbaby]

Vincent’s Corner

(Aka, all of my works featuring Vincent Renzi)

Fics:

priest! Au — pt. 1

Blurbs:

Drabbles:

[chris-prank]

Ya i need to punish Dr. Seraph for ruining my plans/ripping my hero suit. Clothes are very expensive these days :(

So we tear his off and pound into him :3 !! ^^ ❤️❤️💯💯😍😍🔥🔥

Sub Yandere villain sidekick x Top GN hero reader

CW: NSFW, doggy style, top reader and slight teasing

So I got carried away and ended up writing around 1K words of smut…

Just like last time the reader is GN, it’s vague enough so you can choose if the reader has a dick or a strap-on.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

“Do you know how much it costs to make a superhero suit? And don’t even get me started on the anonymous fees!”

Real frustration could be heard in your voice as the unpleasant memories of dealing with your supplier came to mind. But you swiftly chased them away to focus back on the man tied up under you.

“I’m s-sorry, if I k-knew I would ha—”

You placed your finger on his lips, shutting him up immediately.

“I don’t want shallow excuses or explanations, I want you to repay me properly.”

Dr. Seraph looked up at you with confusion. He knew what your intentions were, you had made them abundantly clear, yet he couldn’t connect the dots. How is him being tied up with bondage tape directly related to destroying your suits? Furthermore, he was wondering why you even had bondage tape in the first place! The mad scientist wasn’t complaining of course, but it’s not like it was efficient to apprehend criminals in any way, except…

You must have brought it with you just for this specific outcome! That’s it! You had planned on taking him for yourself! Oh, how quickly he convinced himself this was the truth and how flattered he was about it. And no matter how insane this conclusion was, he was indeed right.

He waited for you to take your finger off him to ask for clarification, but before he could open his mouth you effortlessly flipped him on his stomach, making the man yelp. You weren’t finished as you grabbed his hips, pressing his backside against your pelvis. That was enough to make this genius's brain go blank. He was already turned on by the predicament he had found himself in, but now a primitive desire had taken over any sense of logic he still possessed.

“Since you seem to love ruining my superhero suits, I think it's time for me to do the same with your uniform. That's the only punishment I’ll accept.” You caress his waist back and forth before adding, “I’m sure you’re fine with that, right?”

“Mm..y-yes.” He responded with a feeble voice.

You smiled to yourself, happy that he was so responsive. You took a handful of the fabric in your fist and pulled. His pants ripped apart like paper, making you feel like you were unwrapping a birthday gift. You tore until every inch of his private parts was exposed. The man gasped at this vulgar sight and buried his head back into the pillow.

You, on the contrary, admired your work. In this position, Vincent had the most perfect arched back and his ruined pants gave him a particular disheveled look. Soon enough, you had taken off your suit from the waist down, tossing it to the side without a care. A rush of excitement came to you when you felt Dr. Seraph pressing himself against your groin while letting out subtle whimpers.

You grope both of his ass cheeks as a response, before spreading them apart. With precise movements, you poured lubricant on top of it and prevented it from leaking all the way down by spreading it on his asshole. You stopped and instead rubbed your tip against his entrance to make it wet as well. After you were done, It was slightly glistening in the dim light of the room. By now, his noises had gotten louder, his legs trembling in anticipation.

“Are you ready Vincent?”

Hearing you say his real name made his cock and hole twitch.

“P-please, p-put it in.” He whined, impatience filling his voice.

He had already put aside the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment. He didn’t care if you destroyed his clothes, he had other ones, but there was only one you. Hell, he would let you tear down his entire wardrobe if it meant he could be fucked by you every night.

You grab his hips with one hand, making sure he would stay up right, and you positioned yourself with the other to stuff him full. Vincent threw his head back and cried out a lewd moan as your cock disappeared in his ass. You weren’t even down to the base that he was already gripping the sheets, nails digging through it. You also noticed it had gone in easy, a bit too easy even considering the lub.

“Someone has been preparing himself for me.” You teased, sinking deeper inside him.

Blood shot directly to the man’s face and to his cock, much to his embarrassment. He was already rock-hard, but the simple fact of implying that he has been stretching his insides for you, almost made him cum on the spot.

“Nggf…I-I didn’t…A-aahh! Mng—”

“Oh but you’ve been fucking yourself at the thought of me, haven’t you?” One of your hands grabbed onto his dick, giving it a few strokes while you added, “don’t worry I’m not mad.”

Vincent tried to hold in a sob by biting down his lips, as the mix of both different kinds of pleasure assaulted his nervous system. Though, nothing could prevent the tears from rolling down his eyes and into his mouth while he tried to answer you, emphasis on “tried”.

“Y—Mngh…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, as he felt your pelvis against his butt, meaning ou were completely inside him.

You waited until the mess of a man had visibly relaxed, before pulling back and thrusting inside again with more speed. The sounds of flesh smacking together and Vincent’s moan filled your ears like a melody. The way you bucked against him without mercy was contrasted with your thumb gently rubbing his hips in a praise like gesture.

There was one thing that was bothering you, as you glared at the upper half of his body. You had rolled up his coat a little when you were massaging his waist earlier, yet it wasn’t enough. You took the base of his uniform and ripped it in half all the way to his neck, the roll of your hips never faltering. Satisfied, you bent down and kissed his newly bare shoulders.

“That’s much better, don’t you think?” You took the chance to nibble there too, “And now your outfit is ruined, just like all my suits.”

“Nnhg Uh-uhh.” Whines and moans, mixing together as Vincent wished to speak.

You smile against his skin, satisfied with this little punishment.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I tried to match your freak, so I hope you enjoyed it 💅🏻

(Oh and I can tell you that Dr. Seraph will have a lot of explaining to do the next day when he arrives in a wheelchair at a meeting.)

[weneverlearn]

Kurt Bloch: An Awesome Guy Who Awesome People Like

Rocking with the Fastbacks and recording all your favorite bands since 1979

Fastbacks, 1988; Kurt Bloch far left, Gumby t-shirt

“There truly is something about inspiration and enthusiasm that really is inspiring and enthusiastic!” - Kurt Bloch

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By: Eric Davidson

I’ve been thinking a lot about joy of late. Like pure, eyes-to-the-sky, skipping down the street joy. There is a paucity of it around right now.

We could follow a zillion trails to and from how we got here, but this is ostensibly a music blog, so I’m going to make a quick stab at the roots of this unenviably joyless position we’re sitting in, rock-wise.

The Fastbacks were joyful. Starting out in 1979 in the dawning days of Seattle’s punk scene, they became a local fave on the basis of action-packed shows stuffed with careening pop hooks, irked energy, and a friendly, guffaw around onstage demeanor that didn’t exactly scream “pre-hardcore era.”

Fastbacks retreated for a few years, circa 1988, and when kicked back into gear a couple years later, found themselves being a preferred opener for a load of grumpy grunge bands who I’m guessing hoped to absorb some of the Fastbacks positive energy to counteract their mope – which the Fastbacks were more than ready to supply.

A mélange of metal volume, fleeting bouts of prog whimsy, Ramones tempos, and BubbleYum stickiness, the Fastbacks created a  singular sound. Like most great bands, they never fit into any particular zeitgeist – too raggedy for the pop punk contingent, too peppy for the grunge trend, they nonetheless retained a respected status among bands who appreciated their consistently grabby tunes and fun live show.

Despite any remaining expectations of what “success” was supposed to be, by the turn of the millennium the Fastbacks became that precious thing – one of those awesome bands that awesome bands like.

It should be noted that, while grunge soon gained a definition as a downer genre (that has taken root since), Bloch and company palled around with that Seattle scene from the get-go, and knew many of them as fun rocker kids just trying their best to get through seven months of rain by rocking. 

The Fastbacks kept careening forward right through the ‘Alternative Rock” era that ignored all the fun underground garage punk and instead painted rock as increasingly dreary and grievance-based. The early 2000s came, and the Fastbacks took their leave.

They’ve recently gotten back together for occasional reunion shows. Always holding them together throughout their stop/start whirlwind of a career was ace guitarist/producer and philosophical center of the band, Kurt Bloch.

Bloch, who began his career as a recording studio whizz with Fastbacks, never stopped twiddling the knobs for lots of your favorite bands and/or underrated acts. We checked in with him on his ongoing mission to bring fun to the fringes despite the mainstream consistently choosing incorrectly.   

-------------------------------

Kurt Bloch, rockin', 1990 (Fuck the NRA. I will assume Kurt's t-shirt here was de rigueur '90s irony.)

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What was the first album you loved; and what was the first album you loved because of its production?

Good question, hard to answer. I think it was 45s and AM radio that got me going on recording qualities, how loud some of the great hits of the early-’70s sounded. How some records sounded like they were a band playing inside your head. I think I was aware of EQ and compression sounds early on, how the drum fills would sort of obliterate everything behind it on some songs. How the guitar would be so loud in the breaks. How, if the record didn’t have enough treble, it would be unexciting; if there was too much then it’d sound wimpy.

Then getting into albums, and FM radio, you’d listen to Larks’ Tongues In Aspic or Dark Side Of The Moon, and they had this spacious quality that was rad; the Scorpions’ Fly To The Rainbow was right in your face, really up-front and close. Then, going to see bands live, we’d see the coliseum style shows – that was so cool, but then getting to see bands in smaller spaces where you could hear the amps on stage, and feel the sound pressure in the room –now that was a mind-opener. You could feel the Marshalls and the actual sound coming off of the stage.

Then when punk bands started playing, that’s when it started getting interesting. You know, like I just saw this killer band that sounded so great at the show, and their record sounds like a bowlful of shit. Why?! That leads to one-track, two-track, four-track tape recorders, and each time you record something, you have a whole book of revelations of what to do and what not to do. So many great recordings from that early punk era without a bunch of reverb. It was another revelation. A lot of those early digital reverbs that everyone had, I just hated that fake trebly, scritchy sound. Rather just not use any reverb than that icky sound.

How did the Fastbacks form?

Kim and Lulu were high school friends of ours, The Cheaters was our neighborhood band; only lasted a couple years but they were good ones! When that band disintegrated on-stage, there was still band gear in my parents’ basement. Kim (Warnick, bass/vocals) had been in a band, The Radios, and Lulu (Gargiulo) wanted to play guitar and sing. Somehow my parents didn’t put a stop to it all, so we started playing a couple times a week. Not saying we got good, but we got better.

How long before you felt you had locked into the Fastbacks’ sound?

I reckon whatever “sound” we had was pretty well established early on; it was just whatever we wanted to do. Of course we loved the punk bands of the era first and foremost, but also the ’60s and ’70s pop music we grew up with; and the hard rock bands of the ’70s too! And I always was a fan of the wonderful arrangements and sound of the ’70s prog bands, once I started writing most of the songs, these things would creep in.

Live, 1986

I have this romantic vision of Kim Warnick as a long-haired rocker teen crashing parties and such. Is that correct?

Ha ha ha!! We were all pretty good (bad?) at crashing parties, some of the shit we did makes me wince thinking of it all. But it was 1977, ‘78; things were different back then, a different kind of boredom ran rampant through kids’ minds back then. There was a real disdain for society, maybe not to the degree of the UK bands at the time, but still there nonetheless. Often there was nothing to do other than the proverbial let’s go fuck shit up. And the music was such a part of all that.

So you got a story about something back then that would make you wince now?

Back when we were teenagers in The Cheaters, we would go to pretty desperate lengths to create excitement. The Cheaters singer, Scott Dittman, was maybe the funniest person I’ve ever known, and often in our search for something to do, he would drive a car full of us down to the frats at the University Of Washington. We’d go crash frat parties, rarely did we fit in unnoticed. You’d grab some keg cups and try to hang out, usually immediately, “Would you please leave.” And that didn’t often sit well with Scott. If we were going to “please leave” then we would not leave without exacting some sort of a toll. I guess we could run pretty fast, or we would’ve got our asses kicked pretty well back then. Somehow a few weeks later we’d go back to the same frat house that had a bookcase upended or a row of bikes knocked over, and lo and behold, the same thing would happen again. Of course we were never hired to play any frat parties.

Scott also loved to fight. He took boxing lessons and was always trying to teach us how to fight too. You knew when the gloves came out it was time to find something else to do. “Come on, you just gotta keep your guard up.” (smash smash smash) “You said you weren’t gonna hit us in the face.” Yeah right.

The Cheaters and The Accident (another erstwhile punk outfit) set up a show at a non-punk bar, somewhere down by Olympia. This would’ve been 1979 maybe. There were no roadmaps for like-minded or “friendly” places to play, outside of the major cities. But we were trying to do something, anything, and our double bill got the booking. This bar had a dance floor that also was used for bar fighting. There must have been some sort of organization to the fights, but it was sanctioned bar fighting. No-one was on the dance floor or anywhere near it when we started, so Scott tried to solicit a fight or two during our set. This was unfriendly territory, we were all, “Stop this nonsense!” But once you told Scott not to do something, well he was going to double down of course. Fortunately no one took him up on his offers, and we got out unscathed, but the bar owner took me into his office at the end of the night and gave me a rundown on what we needed to do to become successful in the music business, and the first thing was to get rid of that singer.

1978

First Fastbacks show, February, 1980 – any memories of it?

Oh, totally! The first Fastbacks show, it was at a rec center in a quiet neighborhood, it was three bands: The Vains, Psychopop, and The Fastbacks. We were all friends, and it was all three bands’ first shows. Very ramshackle, but we cobbled together a sound system, someone had a few lights, everyone brought what they had, and the show went on. A little rough around the edges, but the power didn’t go out, no cops were called, nothing was ruined – an early triumph for sure.

Was the power pop zeitgeist of that time a thing for Fastbacks? Did you feel a part of it?

No! For sure the New Wave was hitting strong at that point, but we were certainly not embraced by the new wavers at all. I suppose for that first year, we were pretty terrible, but we had some friends and people who wanted to give us a chance. Getting Duff (McKagan – yes, that one from Guns ‘N Roses) to play drums was the first step into making the band more listenable, but we were still a long ways off of what the general public would consider valuable music. We got kicked off of a show after our first set (of two). “That’s okay, you guys don’t have to play another set.” And I was all, “What do you mean we don’t have to?!” Oh, I get it.

Then when the hardcore bands cropped up, we were pals with some of them, but we weren’t furious enough for them really. I recall some sort of fury at a DOA/The Fartz/Fastbacks show. It required some foresight, which many didn’t possess, to support any kind of music that wasn’t 100% punk. Conversely, the proper power pop bands, well, we were a little too power and not enough pop, I reckon. We wanted to be that, but it’d take a bit still to hone those chops.

Had Duff McKagen played in any band before that?

Duff was the bass player in The Vains, who played that Laurelhurst Rec Center show. That was his first show. He must’ve been 15, barely 16?

Did he exhibit behaviors that would later align with Guns ‘N Roses’ infamous lifestyle?

We were still pretty reeled-in at that point, no one really even got plastered, no one started doing drugs yet. Might’ve been some Budweisers around, but nothing stronger yet.

Guns 'N Roses 2nd show, 1985

Got any Vains stories, recollections of a show, or the general scene from whence they came/played? Was there a good raw, original punk scene in Seattle in late '70s? I'm aware of Soldier and some other bands, but I wanna get it from the horse’s mouth.

The Vains only played three, maybe four shows total. In the late ’70s into early ’80s it was pretty hard to keep something going if you were any sort of impatient. Most bands never got the chance to play enough to iron out any difficulties, or taste any sort of real success. Lots of arguing over what direction to take, stick to your punk rock guns, and play to a rental hall of your friends; or try to get “jobs” in the bars, which would mean being stricken with the “cover band” tag, which was NOT punk.

1978

The Enemy worked the hardest, yet still couldn’t crack the code in 1979. The Telepaths, The Blackouts, The Lewd – everyone broke up, or moved away and then broke up. The Fartz made a pretty good go of it, but even they sorta morphed into Ten Minute Warning, and then morphed into an art band… The Silly Killers stayed pretty punk. The Living ripped it up for their short lifespan. But they were all in that 1982 dilemma, you can almost see a line in the sand, drawn in the summer of 1982. Not a lot of bands made it across that line that summer.

The Enemy live, 1980

If I remember it was some sort of divine intervention that The Fastbacks reconvened in 1983 to fire it up again, it was nearly the end of the line. But it was also clearly a new beginning, a new lease on life, a new crop of kids started bands in those Metropolis years; the Metropolis was a new all-ages venue that I would consider the petri dish of the next bundle of bands.

As the ‘80s took hold and punk rock hall shows were sort of the only stage for many of our bands, after a couple years of not getting to any sort of next level, it was clear that there needed to be a re-grouping of some sort. We’d see our friends’ bands get actual paying gigs in bars – if they were non-punk sounding. Of course many of the punk bands went to the dark side of ’80s metal. Everyone was looking to do something that could “go somewhere.”

Somewhere right in that 1982 corridor, drugs started flourishing, stupidity set in. Duff came with us Fastbacks as a “roadie” in 1984 down to L.A., and when we came back I reckon he moved to L.A. to escape that whole rigamarole. No one was getting anywhere here anyway. A bold move at that time, at the advanced age of 20!

1987

Word is Fastbacks have had between 12 and 20 drummers. Short of naming every single drummer, are there a few you’d like to point to as having had a particularly interesting stint; or who went on to other bands?

Gosh, all the Fastbacks drummers had something great about them. There were a few who only did one show. I publicly apologize to those who didn’t last. Those were strange times. I don’t think there are any unsolved mysteries in the Fastbacks drummer world, Dan Peters, who recorded a couple songs with us but no shows, Tad Hutchison, and Tom Hendrikson, who each did one show…. Some convoluted moments for sure, and all killer drummers!

Do you think if you would have remained drummer for Fastbacks that you would have still gotten into production?

Yeah, I think the fascination with recording was parallel to the live playing side of things, it was always there in my constitution. Wanting to learn, wanting to figure out how to make records that captured how killer bands sounded. It was such a tall order back then. Seemed like the old guard [engineers] didn’t “get it,” or were prohibitively expensive; and so many of the others didn’t sound kickass like we wanted. Of course this comes from the actual band, first and foremost; that is learned the hard way! But if the band blazes at their show, it seemed that their records should sound blazing too, but that wasn’t often the case.

1988

1989

From what I remember, the Fastbacks rep was that of the favorite local band of all the Seattle bands, and hence got on as openers for bands who would soon get huge during that whole grunge thing…

Pretty hard to say from the inside view. We had the unfortunate hurdle of being broken up from late-1988 till mid-1990. A lot of opportunity probably squandered during those times. But, unlike anyone else I can think of, we did get a second chance via Sub Pop, and another decade of rock. I know we were quite lucky in that department. We never did gigs large or small with Nirvana, Soundgarden, sort of the class of ’89. We did share a slightly miserable practice space with Green River and later Mother Love Bone. Always pals with those cats, so we did do opening stints with Pearl Jam in 1996, all around the world.

What was miserableness about it?

Oh man, that place… It was in a basement in Pioneer Square, the old, original downtown Seattle. The Great Seattle Fire devastated downtown in like 1889, and they rebuilt the city on top of the old city, one floor higher. So our basement was on the level with the old, original city; some rooting around could be done. There was no bathroom or running water down there, so you had to go to the bar a block away to use the facilities, but often you just couldn’t be bothered. In the space next to ours, it was a smashed up, decrepit old room that we moved all the garbage from our side into. No lighting of any sort, so it was all flashlights if you had them, and filling up bottles of pee and putting them where ever we could find room.

But of course we raged supreme down there, some epic parties, bands playing, and whatnot; of course no water or facilities, but grand times in the ’80s. Somehow, I ended up being in charge of paying rent, not the best job for me to take on. It meant tracking down Andrew Wood once a month and trying to get him to pay his share of their rent. First it was Malfunkshun, and Green River was there too. We might’ve blown up before Mother Love Bone started? I think I remember Green River blowing up too, after their California trek; it would’ve been not too long after that that The Fastbacks unceremoniously imploded. But for a while it was definitely a rager.

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Nifty, random link I stumbled on with some cool early Fastbacks fliers, stories, and live stuff.

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1992

While you didn't play with the "biggies" of the scene as much as I thought, got any early Nirvana or Soundgarden tale of any sort you'd like to share?

Our fabled practice basement was just a couple blocks from The Central, a venue that was sort of home base for a lot of stuff. The Vogue as well, it was on the north end of downtown, we were on the south end. Many people had keys to the place, so it was not surprising to duck in between sets at The Central, to have cheap beers or whatnot. I first saw Soundgarden at The Central, and they were certainly mind-blowing. Would’ve been ’87? Quickly became a favorite Seattle band, and when their first 7” came out, my roommates hated me. I had a tendency to play those 45’s over and over and over again. But they played The Central a lot, and just got better and better, heavier and heavier. I remember the first time they played “Beyond The Wheel”, it was at the Vogue. I was standing next to Mark Arm and we looked at each other and just said FUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHH…

The first Nirvana show I saw was also at the Vogue, it was maybe not the greatest Nirvana show, but man I thought that singer was amazing. Shortly after, Jon Poneman (Sub Pop co-founder) was at the bar there and said, “If you buy me a coffee now, I’ll give you a 45 tomorrow that will change your life.” An easy proposition. Sub Pop HQ was half a block away, he gave me a “Love Buzz” 45, and once again, the roommates had a reason to hate. I must’ve played that record 100 times in a row. Might’ve taken them a bit to find their pummeling style, but man they sure did. Then after Bleach had been out a while, all the rumors of major label this and major label that… So exciting and weird.

Who is a favorite Seattle “grunge era” band you really dug and maybe didn’t get the recognition you think it deserved? Mine are the Derelicts and Zipgun.

Of course! Pure Joy, Flop, H-Hour, the Meices – wait they were actually from SF… Huge Spacebird, Once For Kicks…. Have you got an hour or so?!

I know you are no doubt tired of this question, but do you have a late ‘80s/early ‘90s story or show that happened where you thought, “Damn, this Seattle scene thing is getting some real attention? This is fucking weird.”

After the Fastbacks blew up in 1988, I started playing with the Young Fresh Fellows, and we were off and running pretty hard right away. Certainly a parallel path from the Seattle Grunge Explosion, but a decent path it was! I was pals with Jon and Bruce (Pavitt) at Sub Pop when they started, so I’d go hang out at their early HQ/distributor place downtown. It was amazing to see some of these bands blow up when they did.

Young Fresh Fellows, 1989; Kurt Bloch far right

I suppose the thing that sealed it for me was listening to the advance cassette of Nevermind on a Young Fresh Fellows trip. Scott McCaughey had been assigned to review it for local music rag, The Rocket, and I nabbed it from him on a trip out East. It totally blew my doors wide open. Already having been a superfan since that “Love Buzz” 45, and seeing a couple of the shows they did here before going out to record that album, then hearing it for the first time on headphones; then as our tour progressed, seeing the record just going ballistic at every record store, it was just crazy. It never stopped getting bigger and bigger. This is so fucking weird!

Strange feeling of seeing a local band you saw shlubbing around town or peeing next to them at a dive, to hearing them play in a grocery store in Nevada, or whatever....

Soundgarden was the first one I remember blowing up. They went from Sub Pop to SST to A&M – they sorta seemed to have their shit together pretty well. Alice In Chains were kinda off our radar, they were only on the Rock radio stations; it wasn’t until their second album that I noticed that they actually were killer. But Nirvana, they were crazy cool from the get-go, not in the FM Rock station sort of way, but the punk underground sort of way. Plus I didn’t really know them at the beginning, so there was way more mystery about them. A couple legendary Seattle club shows before they went off to start Nevermind; the OK Hotel first playing of “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” we were just transfixed – What the fuck is this?! Then the Off Ramp show, they went on really late, and got cut off right before 2am. Somehow the club picked up the empties and let the band play on into the night, and what a show it was. Then… nothing.

Didn’t really hear anything from Nirvana ‘til the advance cassette of Nevermind went out, and of course thinking, if I like this so much, it’s probably never gonna go anywhere. Wrong. It was like a slow ball of fire, radio then record stores, like every record store playing it, every magazine… It would’ve made you hate a lesser band, but it really was great so there was a sense of pride attached to it all. Finally something we loved is big. But then how big? There seemed to be no end to it. It was everywhere. And so weird to think that kids dug something that was blazing and amazing.

Were you defacto producer of Fastbacks from the get-go of recording?

Oh for sure. Not by strong-arming anyone, but just because there was no money, and no one else could be bothered! Our first 45 was with Neil Hubbard and Jack Weaver, as we were doing a song for a Seattle comp LP, and as per the usual, just recorded some extra songs in our allotted time. The first EP was Peter Barnes, drummer for The Enemy, killer Seattle band and very much an inspiration to all the bands in the late-’70s in Seattle. Then after that, it was trial by fire.

Can you tell me more about The Enemy, and their local import?

The Enemy pretty much initiated the punk “scene” in Seattle. There were a few bands, but they started a club, it was all ages, March, 1978. Otherwise it would’ve been hall shows, but The Bird brought everyone together. Originally only open for a few months, but there were shows there every Friday and Saturday, it really did give us something to do.

My first band, The Cheaters, might not have actually played anywhere if not for them. We could have languished in my parents’ basement forever if not for being stopped by The Enemy members at a Ramones show: “Hey! Are you guys in a band? Would you want to play at our club we’re opening up in a few months?” Of course we said yes, we didn’t tell them that we were just barely a band, we’d never actually played a show, nor would we maybe ever had if not for their offer. We were just teenagers, my brother Al was still in High School. But they took us in and let us play shows. The drummer, Peter Barnes, filled in for a night our real drummer couldn’t play.

Everyone knew each other, when it was time to record what was to be The Fastbacks’ first EP, Peter volunteered to be our producer. He figured out how to get cool, kickass sounds and make things happen. No one had any money or experience so it had to be on a budget, but he made it happen. The record turned out great. “In America” was on the commercial new wave station, we thought we had it made!

I thought I knew what to do, to various degrees of success. Conrad Uno at Egg Studio did much of our first album. He was wise beyond words and also a great teacher. After that LP was finished he was all, “You can do all this, I think, I’ll be back at the end of the night to close up!” Then it seemed like the right avenue. So many producers seemed like they just wanted to add stuff in order to have their presence be felt. I always felt, like – what is the least amount of stuff we can have on here to make it happen? Less stuff, but louder. Certainly not against adding things, but also happy to leave things out as much as possible. Always loved the one-guitar bands that didn’t double everything all the time. Makes you think a little harder about what you’re doing.

1994

Okay, I will name a band, and you give me the first thing that comes to mind when you think of your production gigs with them:

Presidents of the U.S.A.

We’d do several takes of any given song, as the band was learning them, Chris (Ballew, singer) would play his two-string bass flawlessly every take, and sing a scratch vocal that could’ve been used as the keeper. Never a mistake, never less than killer every time.

Robyn Hitchcock

Also just an amazing music machine. Put him in an iso booth with a mic for vocal and one for acoustic guitar. He’d show the band a new song and go into the booth, sometimes it would just be one take and they’d nail it, with the lead vocal included. Never a lyric sheet in sight. A brain that truly works overtime. Peter Buck playing his 12-string on a song that he had just heard, and plays flawlessly the first time. Great Peter quote: “I like to get things right.” Indeed!

Fastbacks

Ha!! Some of the recording we’ve done astounds me to this day. It’s like any idea we had, we’d just do it. I swear, no one ever said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Listening back to the early ’90s recordings, there truly is something about inspiration and enthusiasm that really is inspiring and enthusiastic! Some of that music is pretty weird, even some songs that I wrote, I can’t imagine where they came from. I know we did them and all, but what was the impetus, where did they come from?!

Nashville Pussy

Another tale of just trying not to ruin a band that sounded killer. Amazing to think that they all fit in the tiny live room at Egg for that first album. The sheer volume of air pressure in there was unbelievable. A perfect example of what we’d set out to do, just try to not let the recording process get in the way of the recording. And nominated for a Grammy! I went with them to the Awards show – limo, booze, and afterparties. We were scheming all the horrible things that we’d say when we won the award, who we were gonna thank, who we were gonna blame. Of course there’s no way we’d win, they barely could say the name of the band when reading off the nominees! But what an experience. So many laughs.

Mudhoney

Five Dollar Bob’s Mock Cooter Stew (Reprise, 1993) doesn’t get enough props. I think it’s a great record. I really tried to make each song sound different and killer in its own way. Dan Peters (drummer) is always dishing out the quality.

Young Fresh Fellows

It’s easy to work quickly with a band you’re in. You kind of already know what’s going to happen, you know how to set up since you’ve already seen what works and what doesn’t over the last decade or two. We had intended to record maybe four or five songs for Tiempo De Lujo. Somehow we’d crammed all four of us in the basement here; after the two days we’d recorded twelve band tracks – so an album it was! Toxic Youth as well. We’d gone over to Jim Sangster’s living room to learn a few songs before starting recording the next day, and once we got going, they just kept coming and coming. When inspiration strikes, keep the tape rolling!

Can you describe Conrad Uno's Egg Studios; the kind of size or situation you were dealing with? Was there like a famous recording board there you worked with?

Egg Studio, where I and others honed their chops, was a welcome alternative to the “normal” studios of the time. It was truly a basement studio, the performance room was smaller than an ordinary living room. Many bands’ rehearsal spaces were larger than this. But it really did have a relaxed feel to it, and loud bands could all set up in the room and play live and get a good sound. Mudhoney, Nashville Pussy, Supersnazz, Devil Dogs, Supersuckers, Zeke – it was home base for so many great albums.

Conrad Uno moved into the house in maybe 1987, I reckon we finished Fastbacks …And His Orchestra there; and by early 1988, we began Very Very Powerful Motor, then the Sub Pop 7” and Zücker sessions. It began as an 8-track studio. Conrad brought in the Spectrasonics console that was formerly at Stax/Volt studio – rumored to once be owned by Paul McCartney, under whose purview a varispeed knob was installed. The knob remains, it’s Paul’s Knob. The console is now at Crackle And Pop studio here in Seattle, and is working better than ever.

Before Mudhoney began their third album, Piece of Cake, their second at Egg, they bought a 16-track machine for the studio, and that was the classic setup for so many records there in the ‘90s.

1996

I personally would love to hear about making the classic Devil Dogs album, Saturday Night Fever (Crypt/Sympathy for the Record Industry, 1994). Whose idea was it to make it kind of like a party, with friends and fans whopping it up in the studio between songs?

It was their idea from the beginning to make it a party album, “You have been invited… to a party!” Another band that didn’t need any fancy fussing about, they already sounded like a house on fire. Just tried to record them and not get in the way, make sure that the playback sounded like it did in the room with them.

Definitely the last night of the session, they invited all their Seattle friends over for a party, and we played the songs from the album through twice, if I remember, and just had a mic in the room while they were going. All the bottles clinking and all the blabbering was totally what happened. There was so little time to get everything done while we were there. They had booked two gigs on recording days – one out of town in Bellingham! Basically it was like wrangling the Three Stooges to record and mix a full album and an EP in like five days. Let’s just say that the morning hours were not particularly productive. But fortunately, when they were on, they were unstoppable. And so fuckin’ funny! What a fucking great record!

Oh yeah, definitely the most hilarious band to tour with too! We did a month with them once in Europe, traveling in the same packed little van. And even the bad hungover mornings in the van drives would lead to so much cracking up. Singer Andy G. sometimes stood up and imitated Tom Jones live. Anyway, can you recall who all was in the “crowd” on that record?

Honestly, I don’t! The studio was in a neighborhood, so all sessions had to be finished by 10pm. I loved the idea of recording a loud listening party and then mixing that in with the album, but it was so precarious to cram a bunch of drunks in the tiny studio and try to not let any gear get ruined, while still egging on loud misbehavior. Then getting all the cats out of there by 10 and not annoying Conrad or his neighbors in the process.

You must have some fun Andy G. stories too.

All three of those guys had their moments! Andy, Steve, Mighty Joe. Someone should’ve given them their own TV series. It might not have lasted very long, but what a show it would’ve been. I’ve never seen a group rile each other up the way they did. Should’ve had a room mic going constantly while they tried to make a group decision. There was way more work than we had time for. Somehow we got it all done, but just barely.

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Crypt Records, 1993

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And here’s where I decided to check in with Devil Dogs drummer, Mighty Joe Vincent, to get some more details on their Bloch party: "So, in the friends crowd [on the Saturday Night Fever album] was Eddie and Dan Bolton from the Supersuckers, James Burdyshaw and the rest of the Sinister Six, and a bunch of really cool women whose names have escaped my memory banks.

We def recorded on the Stax board. I remember because we had hopes that there was some soul residue left in the cables that might coat our tracks.

We totally loved Kurt. What’s not to love? I do remember that it was a Crypt budget recording so we had to make every minute count, so we were mixing until we were all so tired we were delirious. I’m pretty sure we went ‘til 2a.m. or something like that, but that was mixing. We did that in the middle of a tour, so we did about two weeks of gigs from NYC across this great nation of ours as well as that other great nation to our north, then out to Seattle. While we were doing it , we had a gig up in Bellingham, so we took a day off to drive up there.

I remember Scott Mccaughy was working there at Egg. I was talking to him one day and he told me his days of playing out on the road were over as his wife just had a kid and he had to be a good dad and provide a steady paycheck. I really felt bad for him. And then of course, a short time after that, Pete Buck asked him to come on the road with R.E.M. and said he would pay him a million dollars. Like an actual million dollars. That always made me happy to hear."

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And now, back to Kurt Bloch!

Who were bands you liked to tour with? And/or, a classic Fastbacks tour story?

We had some great west coast tours with DOA in the early-to-mid ’80s, they were definitely an early inspiration to go head-on and charge through best you can. They certainly blazed a trail for the rest of us to follow, doing everything themselves, like Black Flag did from Southern California. The ’80s were a rocky road for the Fastbacks. We played a lot of shows in Vancouver, BC, as well as Seattle, but it was a lot of problems and fighting, ha, and it wasn’t until the ’90s that we actually went out for any length of time – certainly getting into occasional serious trouble with The Meices, Motocaster, Gaunt, and even the New Bomb Turks!

Pearl Jam asked you to do some stadium shows in 1995, arguably the peak grunge year. How did you relate to the whole fame/stadium situation surrounding those shows?

It was January ’95, Pearl Jam asked us to play a radio show from their rehearsal space. I kinda didn’t know what they were talking about, and maybe sort of blew it off. I was trying to finish a Sicko record that night, couldn’t be bothered. I did like their Vitalogy record, “Not For You,” “Spin The Black Circle.” The rest of the Fastbacks were all, “C’mon, we’re doing this!” And I grudgingly told Sicko I was going to have to leave early. I didn’t even bring a guitar, I knew that Stone had a cool ‘50s Gold Top, maybe I could use that.

Then of course we get there and it’s really fun, just a big party scene, tons of buddies and band cats. We played three songs on the Pearl Jam gear setup, maybe Kim talked on the radio, drank some beers, great time! That was cool enough, but then they asked us to open a few shows at the end of the year, Salt Lake City and San Jose I think, and we’re all like, “Hell yeah!” And everything went well, then, “Would you want to go do a U.S. tour, oh and maybe a Europe tour following that…?” And we were all, “Hellz yeah!” And that all went great, clearly we would be the next big thing, the world is gonna love us, nothing holding us back now! We had a great record out, New Mansions In Sound (Sub Pop, 1996). Man, that was it – lots and lots of fun, great shows. We invented an auxiliary opening band for some of the shows, The What. We played Who tunes with Eddie Vedder incognito with a wrestling mask. We drag Mike McCready out for jams, Stone Gossard to sing one of his PJ songs, Eddie did “Leaving Here” with us a couple times, just great rock times in the giant venues. Somehow it didn’t lead to us being the Next Big Thing, but it was fun to pretend for a few months.

1994

Any good backstage shenanigans stories?

There weren’t a whole lot of super shenanigans. They had an espresso machine onstage every night, so we’d all slug down coffees, blast through our tunes, and then get drunk and watch Pearl Jam. Sometimes we would annoy their wonderful crew by being loud and boisterous aside of the stage, spilling bottles of wine or whatnot, but not much more than that. Everyone got along really well, and it was well-protected against after show bullies or negativity. We’d just keep on our course, often ‘til the huge sports arena closed down and they’d kick us out after everything had been loaded out – and we’d still be back there cranking tunes and running around.

It was totally like an arena-sized version of a living room party most every night. Their crew moved all the gear, we barely had to do anything except play every night.

I know you knew some of their members from earlier in the scene, but did you know Eddie Vedder before he got asked to join Pearl Jam?

I might not have met Eddie until the live radio show we did? He came up from San Diego. Didn’t know him before then at all, but we were fast friends. We would spend hours talking about the Who and riding around on the catering carts and smashing into the walls of the arenas. Come to think of it, we were probably very annoying. But no one, like, smashed up their hotel rooms or anything. It was probably comparatively tame.

Might sound weird, but while playing in the Seattle scene -- which is generally described as kind of serious, or dark, or junkies, or you know, “grungy” – did you and the Fastbacks feel kind of out-of-place; or are those kind of definitions of grunge and that town/time not correct?

The Seattle “thing” certainly was a dark, serious sound. That isn’t to say that every musician was dark and serious, but that darkness prevailed. To say The Fastbacks felt a little out of place at that point would be correct; but I always thought we were here first. It’s not like we didn’t dig lots of the bands, but it also wasn’t like we would try to take them on at their own game. It just wouldn’t’ve happened. We did do a version of “Swallow My Pride” – Green River’s, not The Ramones – on Sub Pop 200 [compilation], after a Soundgarden version too; but it ended up being menacing only in a Blue Öyster Cult sort of way, rather than ala either previous version. Slow and heavy just wasn’t in our DNA.

Columbus, OH, 1993 (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

I remember when Fastbacks stayed with New Bomb Turks while on tour in 1993, you guys, well I think specifically Lulu, made an amazing Thai meal for us. Did you always cook for bands you crashed with, or just for us ‘cuz we’re so awesome and nice?

Ha. I think the wonderful cooking was a bit of a rarity. We weren’t much of a crash on people’s floor kind of band by the ’90s, but sometimes it was great to have a day off and some good ideas! Remember that Metallica VHS box set had just come out, and we watched it ‘til the end because Lulu and I both worked on the film crew for the shows they filmed in Seattle, and we wanted to see if we, several years after the actual shows, got any credits at the end… and sure enough we did. Reason to celebrate!

Columbus seemed to love you. What were some other fave towns you played?

Always a great time in Columbus. Not necessarily Cleveland though. We weren’t the hard-touring road warriors that a lot of the other (more successful) bands were. It was whatever city we had friends in that were the best. Vancouver BC, San Francisco, L.A., NYC, maybe Albany, Columbus, Istanbul…

Contract and ticket for 1993 Columbus, OH show. (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

Highly technical and professional stage diagram implorations, Columbus, OH, 1993 show (Courtesy of Bela Koe-Krompecher)

I could be wrong, but you didn’t go over to Europe a lot, did you? Were you able to procure any production work from Euro bands you met whilst on tour there?

Oddly, not a lot of Euro tours… Seems like we should’ve done more, but there was always something. Young Fresh Fellows did some great trips, especially in Spain. Fastbacks Spanish tour was a bit of a dog’s breakfast. Not because of the people in Spain, no sir. We certainly lit it up in Japan once, though!

I did a couple albums for Les Thugs, the French band. One of them in Seattle and one in Angers. May have been bookended with some music travel. It’s amazing to look back at the old calendars and see that between tours with the Fastbacks and Young Fresh Fellows, recording with those two bands and recording other bands. Man, there were times when there was nary a day off, those ‘90s months were packed! Gotta consider myself pretty lucky. And so many killer records I got to be part of.

As a producer, do you feel you are mainly bringing an “ear” to finding the sounds the band wants, or do you try to gently impose a certain style and sensibility over the whole production?

Always try to keep the kickass factor high. I would never try to impose anything other than to try to keep everyone happy so they could do their best work, and not do the same bit over and over and over. Work hard and play hard, but not to overanalyze every little thing. Not under-analyze either, but if it’s killer, it doesn’t matter if everything “lines up” perfectly, or if the choruses speed up a little bit. Try to capture what is great about a band live in concert, and not dilute that if you can help it. Don’t add a bunch of crap just to put your mark on a project.

It's interesting how you professed a love for prog, but you had an innate sense of not always overdubbing too much – note your comment about loving bands that only had one guitar, etc.

The true exciting prog bands started coming out around 1968 and ’69, Yes, Genesis, King Crimson, Van Der Graaf Generator; Pink Floyd and Moody Blues had already been around but maybe weren’t quite included. Recording technique at the time was still fairly straightforward for the most part, there was of course room for overdubbing on an eight-track machine, but most of the first-wave prog bands’ recordings were not overloaded with overdubs. The magic was what they did with their four or five musicians, the arrangements you hear on the record were the same instrumentation as they played live. Some of the songs would have been concocted in a studio, but it wasn’t until later that walls of overdubs became commonplace.

That’s where the greatness of the original bands lies – cool vocal arranging and melding several songs’ worth of ideas into one track. Not a lot of room for squirminess either, it wasn’t so easy punching in on a giant eight-track tape machine in 1968. You made one mistake on that verse? You do the whole thing again!

Okay, gotta ask, with as much exposition as you’d like – what was your favorite recording session(s); and worst recording session(s)?

Pretty much always subverted the disasters. A time or two I told a band, after seeing a live show, that they weren’t quite ready to record yet; play a few more shows and practice a lot, record your practices and actually listen to them constructively. Studio time is expensive, practice time is (or at least was) cheap. You don’t have to have every bit of every song nailed down exactly, but do have most everything pretty well figured out, and be ready for criticism during the recording. If the rhythm isn’t working, be prepared to fine-tune your part so it is; if your harmony vocal is a half-step off, go ahead and adjust!

Some of the great sessions are those where I feel that I learned things, a new piece of gear, a new way of looking at things. Overwhelming Colorfast, Supersuckers, Les Thugs in France, The Meices in Florida… Or the records that just slammed out of nowhere. Devil Dogs, Flop, Supersnazz, Nashville Pussy. So many first albums by bands where they have been playing the songs at shows for a year or two, the tempos are up, the blood is pumping, get rid of the headphones and make it like you’re playing a gig. Play the song three times without stopping. Play three different songs in a row without stopping.

1999 (Courtesy of your's truly)

You’re still actively producing. What have you worked on recently you’d like to highlight? And what’s coming up?

There’s always some great Seattle band records going on – Bürien, 38 Coffin, Once For Kicks, Insect Man, The Drolls, Zack Static. These days, some records take a while to finish, I suppose it’s the nature of the business now. Trying now to clean the slate and get these out the door before starting new ones!

And there’s maybe a new Fastbacks coming, no?

There was no plan of any sort. We were having lunch as we sometimes do, and started talking about a couple songs it would be fun to learn and maybe record. Our pal Joe “Meice” Reineke had recently finished an ambitious and fantastic recording building in his back yard; wouldn’t it be fun to check that out….? Well let’s call him and see what his schedule is. Oh! he’s got a day open, whaddayasay, let’s take it. Well there’s a few other songs we could learn, let’s make it two days… I guess we’d better practice… What if we did enough songs for an album? Maybe we did! Got some band tracks, everyone played their butts off! Now we gotta make more magic. No target completion date nor avenue to release, but everyone is excited to finish it!

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Post Script: This article sprung from an editor at a national mag asking if I wanted to do a story on Kurt Bloch, which of course I said yes to cuz Kurt's a great guy and I've been a Fastbacks fan for a goodly spell. But some months passed and plans changed, and so here it is! Also, I would've put more videos in this piece because the Fastbacks have a ton of great songs, but I guess I just learned there is a 10-video limit for a tumblr post. Who knew?

All images courtesy of Kurt Bloch, except where noted.

[berrywinkle]

Rip Vincent Valentine you would have loved petplay

[harbinger-of-enmity]

Mr. Cold Feet . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Sampo Koski x AMAB Reader 🎭

✒︎ Notes; Sub Sampo, dom reader, AMAB reader, anal fingering and penetration, oral, edging (?), cumflation … Let me know if I missed anything!

✒︎ Vincent’s Ramblings; If you recognize this work it’s a repost from my previous blog, Brenbofen. Currently working on revising and reposting as many of the works as I could archive here.

“I can give you a third of my earnings. How about that, Huh?” Sampo shrugged, watching you cautiously. You had just found out he was Mr Cold Feet, the person behind the stealing and selling of historical artifacts from the museum.

“In exchange,” He grabbed your hands, the same smug smile he always had forming on his face. “You don’t tell the Silvermane Guards about me.” He looked so desperate, beginning to tell you an excuse you could use, going on about how you were Belobog’s hero, how one slip-up wouldn’t ruin your reputation.

Sampo freed your hands and smiled at you, waiting for your response. You could take the money, or you could suggest another way he could keep you quiet. You leaned forward, slipping your hands over the exposed skin on Sampo’s hips. “Maybe we could discuss a different payment,” Sampo’s eyes went wide, but his smile grew large, resting his hands on your lower arms. “Of course, only for my most valued customer!”

Sampo pulled you back onto the bed behind him, moving your hands up his chest. “Do whatever you need, as long as you don’t tell anyone.” You slowly removed Sampo’s shirt and jacket, running your hand up his bare stomach. Sampo watched you carefully, his gaze following your hand.

You leaned down, watching Sampo as you kissed and nipped at his torso. He groaned when you bit down on his nipple, your hand squeezing the other. You removed your mouth from his chest, moving to place kisses along his collarbone.

Sampo groaned as you sucked and bit his neck and shoulders, still playing with his nipples. Sampo whined, gripping your hips tightly. You made a particularly harsh tug on his nipple, causing Sampo to cry out. “Wha- What was that for—“ You cut him off by kissing him, biting his lip as you pulled away.

“You did say I could do anything… Unless you want me to tell everyone Sampo Koski is Mr. Cold—“

Sampo gripped the back of your head and kissed you, effectively shutting you up. “Don’t, please?” Sampo gave you a soft grin, practically begging you to keep your mouth shut.

You laughed, kissing his jaw and neck, feeling Sampo’s hands rest on your neck. You finally had enough, sitting up and admiring your work. Sampo’s carefully styled hair was now a mess, hickeys covering his neck and collarbone. With your guidance, Sampo sat up, helping you remove his pants. You massaged his growing erection through his boxers, grinning when a whimper escaped Sampo’s lips.

You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing Sampo, watching as you slowly broke him down. He gripped your hand, glaring up at you. “I’m a busy man, could we hurry this up?” Of course, you understood, but you were the one in control.

Who said Sampo could boss you around?

You removed Sampo’s boxers slowly, watching as Sampo grew more antsy by the second. “[Name], please can—“ You held your hand up, grinning at the purple-haired man.

“The more you complain, the slower I’m going to move, understand?” You squeezed Sampo’s thigh, hearing him whine at the feeling of you touching the sensitive skin. He just gave a meek nod, allowing you to carry on.

You finally got Sampo’s boxers off, resting your hand on the base of his dick. You bent down and placed the tip near your mouth, looking to Sampo for approval. He nodded quickly, moving so you had easier access. You pressed the tip of his dick into your mouth, massaging the base with your thumb.

Sampo groaned at the feeling, hand traveling to your hair. You slowly took more of him into your mouth, eventually reaching the base. You gagged slightly, Sampo’s dick hitting the back of your throat. Your gagging sent a vibration down Sampo’s dick, causing him to moan and grip your hair.

You swirled your tongue around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. Sampo groaned, sitting up and bending over you. “Fffuckk- You feel so good—“ He tangled his hand into your hair, panting. You had pulled your pants down, jerking yourself off as you continued to suck Sampo off. Before Sampo reached his peak you took your mouth from his dick. He looked at you confused and slightly annoyed, sweat falling down his face. You moved Sampo to lie down, propping his legs on your hips.

“This okay?” You asked, pushing his legs apart. Sampo nodded, at this point willing to do anything to cum. You pushed your fingers into his hole, Sampo letting out a gasp at the feeling. You made a slow scissoring motion, occasionally glancing at Sampo to make sure he was comfortable. When you thought Sampo was prepped enough you removed your fingers and lined Sampo up with your dick. Sampo moved his hips to give you more room, panting heavily. You pushed your dick into him, groaning at the feeling of him around you.

Slowly you began to thrust in and out of him, Sampo gripping the blankets under him. Sampo could feel you pressing into him, wrapping his legs around you tighter. Sampo had used sex as a form of payment in the past but he was always on the giving end. Having your dick in him was an entirely new experience for him, he could feel you in him, and every thrust consumed him with more and more pleasure. He never thought he would enjoy this so much.

You gripped Sampo’s hips, feeling yourself growing closer to your orgasm. He was so tight around you and once you discovered his prostate you couldn’t hold yourself back. You roughly thrust into him. The hotel room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and Sampo’s moans.

Sampo came before you, his cum splattering across his chest. You picked up the pace slightly, finally releasing in him. Sampo groaned at the feeling of your cum filling him, the feeling of the warm liquid being stuffed into him clouding his thoughts.

Sampo stared at his bloated stomach, feeling so full. He looked so pretty beneath you, fucked dumb and a complete mess. You had completely forgotten about your mission, being brought back to reality by a ping from your phone. You reached over to grab your phone off the nightstand beside the bed, seeing a string of notifications from Pela. You silenced your phone, deciding you would deal with that later, turning back to Sampo. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He croaked out, feeling tired and sore. You shook your head, massaging Sampo’s hips and thighs.

Sampo sighed, sitting up and cupping your face. “Think we could do this again sometime?” He asked meekly, flushing at your laughter. You rocked your hips, completely forgetting you were still in Sampo. “Of course.” Sampo grinned at that, kissing you while leaning against you. You two had to do this again soon.