#the bass goes so nasty on this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please," You whined out, core throbbing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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pinkmirth · 1 year ago

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⸻ 𝒢ℰ𝒯 𝒰𝒫!

༉‧₊˚. 𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: it’s reiner’s special day! what better way to start his morning than by treating him to a sweet surprise?

༉‧₊˚. 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈: ( 1k+ words of . . . ) reiner braun x fem!reader, slight fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, fem!reader (black coded), established relationship, consented somnophilia, oral (m. receiving), use of pet names (ex. sugar, baby, honey, mama), lowercase intended, all characters are adults, explicit language, minors shoo!

༉‧₊˚. 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇: happy birthday to reiner fuckin’ braun, my favorite man in the whole wide world!!! he deserves a million big fat wet kisses and a billion more hugs. i can only convert my love for him into a smutty little drabble, so here we have it! (title’s kinda-sorta inspired by new jean’s song ‘cause it was on replay while i wrote this . . .) just wanted to put out something sweet for papa reiner’s big day, hope y’all enjoy! 🎀

the calendar’s graced with the change of a new month– the first of august.

today’s particularly special; reiner turning a year older. the sheets of your shared bed rustle about as you make attempts to stretch, but you’re stilled by the weight of reiner— particularly his extended arm strewn over your hip. it’s futile to try and move, especially when your husband sleeps like a log.

it’s amusing to observe his stillness; your drowsy eyes fixate on reiner in what you can only call pure adoration. beside you he rests, the breadth of his naked chest rising and falling in tandem with every puff of air that comes and goes. wispy fringes of blonde fall across his forehead, slightly outgrown as it’s been a good month or more since his last haircut. reiner’s generally furrowed expression is now easy and light, with his lips parted in the slightest to release subtle snores. even in a haze of sleep, he looks nothing short of ethereal.

you wonder what you could do to start his day memorably; breakfast in bed isn't even an option, considering that reiner might wind up spilling orange juice and breadcrumbs on the covers.

still, you intend to spoil him however you can, so you opt on waking him in the best way imaginable– a lovingly nasty blowjob. he’d mentioned it a couple nights back, how he wouldn’t mind if he arose to the sight of you sucking him off. carefully, you slink out from his hold and delve beneath the sheets, pressing chaste kisses wherever you can manage to reach. the brush of your lips aren’t enough to move him. reiner doesn’t wake, not just yet.

with limber movements, you continue to work your way further down, dragging off his plaid-print boxers until you’ve gained enough access. there his cock lies, soft against the thick expanse of his left thigh. he’s girthy, even without any stimuli. reiner’s always had some width to him, though he’s softer right now— easier to take into your mouth. your plush lips separate, eagerly so, trapping his dusty-pink tip between them. your head lowers, easing inch by inch into your pliant mouth. a tiny groan escapes him, and you pause. he tosses left, but remains at rest.

reiner doesn’t yet know how doting you’re being; lathering him in wet kisses and spit-smeared kitten licks, curious to see how much it’ll move him. saliva seeps past your mouth, down your chin and makes a mess of his now-twitching shaft. you know how much he’d love such a view.

the bob of your head is lax and controlled, suckling his cockhead until it pulses on your tongue— growing bigger and hotter until he eventually awakens. reiner squints at the beams of sun that pour into the room, rolling his muscular neck around to loosen any stubborn fatigue. his hair’s cutely tousled, golden eyes hooded with sleep. he displays a dazed half-grin, one that proves he’s currently unaware, but fuck, does he like whatever it is he’s feeling.

“ooh— g’mornin’, baby,” a dozy reiner manages to rasp out. the low bass of his voice channels from deep in his throat, and the addition of sleepiness atop it makes you throb. reiner peels the milk-white covers away, gladdened by the sight of you between his legs, as vulgar as it may be. his sizeable palm reaches for your face, caressing with gentility.

“happy birthday, rei,” you mumble out, a sliver of spit tethering your puffy lips to his big cock. it takes him a moment to register your words; he’d been much too focused on how nicely your mouth felt wrapped around him.

“that’s today already, huh?” he recalls amidst an eye-watering yawn. it’s ridiculous to think that he almost forgot his own damn birthday . . . it’s just that you’re working him so well, the pleasure must be dumbing him down. at times, you think you take his birthday more seriously than he does himself.

“i booked us a reservation for later tonight, baby. it’s at that steakhouse you like,” while sweetly carrying on with conversation, your unoccupied hand curls around his dick. each stroke is firm and well-paced, with just the right amount of pressure to make reiner shudder. “mm, t-that sounds nice, sugar,” he’s choking on his words already. soon enough, he’ll reach his limit. you dip your head back down with a sense of resolve, hoping to pry a good and thorough orgasm out of him.

you moan around him, and his toes curl against the duvet. your cheeks hollow, going faster as a means of prompting him closer to ecstasy. those pretty eyes of yours shining so earnestly, peering up at him with such a strong aim to please might just be the very thing that ruins him completely.

reiner allows his thumb to run across your cheek, though the motion’s done a little shakier than normal. you can't blame him much; he’s hardly able to stay composed when you’ve got the entirety of his cock shoved down your throat. “you’re so good to me, honey,” reiner groans out. his voice drops a bit, sounds a little fainter. you can’t tell whether it’s the doing of his impending orgasm or sheer gratitude. “— always so fuckin’ good to me.”

your tongue traces down a protruding vein and swirls around the base of him. you can feel his twitching grow all the more rapid, with each passing second.

“gonna cum?” you coo to him, receiving the hasty nod of his head in response. “mhm . . . keep going, mama, please,” is his low whine, and you’re quick to comply. today, he’s getting whatever his heart desires. your mouth runs hot against him, and you bring a hand to tug at his girthy underside. suctioning lips, touchy hands— it’s the merging of both that undoes him. breathless moans and profanities flow, and he just can’t help but throw his head back at how lewdly you’re drinking up his cum, sucking him dry. you swallow all he has to offer, leaving not a droplet to go to waste.

a hefty sigh escapes him. you crawl your way up his broad frame, making abode upon his chest with your face to his pecs. you crack a smile over the fervent hammering of his heart’s rhythm against your ear.

“love you so much,” reiner says in a breezy whisper. he cranes his neck downwards to present a kiss to you. smoothly, his lips slide against yours, colliding effortlessly. he can taste remnants of himself on your tongue.

“and i love you,” your manicured fingertips dance along his collarbone. from the angle you’re admiring him in, reiner appears serene. happy, better put.

‘fucked out’ is certainly a good look on the birthday boy.

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theclaravoyant · 6 months ago

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fireworks - bucktommy (T, ~1000wd)

AN ~ now taking prompts! because i can't help myself . in the meantime please enjoy this little hurtcomfort, inspired by the prompts "late night conversations/anxiety" for upcoming @evanbuckleyweek <3 (I couldn't wait that long!)

also on AO3.

Can't make it tonight babe :( Not feeling so hot.

Buck is running late, but not so late that he doesn't have time to stop by on his way to the Grant-Nash gathering for a little bit of boyfriending. Tommy had sadly had to pull out of this one, but not to worry, Buck has brought over his favourite meatball sub in case he's feeling like a pick me up.. and a bottle of ginger ale in case he's not.

Either way, as he approaches the front door Buck is surprised to hear music so loud – albeit muffled – that the bass in it shakes the windows.

“Tommy?”

He frowns. He, for one, isn't one to blast his workout mix when he's stuck in bed, or bent over a toilet bowl, or whatever other nastiness supposedly awaits him. The lights are off inside.

Brought dinner, he taps into his phone. All good?

He bounces on the balls of his feet.

Babe, let me in x

There's no response, not even those little bouncing dots. Buck is definitely not thinking about Tommy passed out on the living room floor or kidnapped or something. But he does pull up Athena's number before he reaches for the spare key. Just in case.

“Babe!” he calls, looking around. The house is dark. This still feels like something he shouldn't really be doing. “Tommy!”

He follows the sound toward the basement stairs, where light is coming through. From down below, he hears the grunts and slaps of rigorous exercise... or something else, and it dawns on him that well, he and Tommy haven't technically agreed, haven't really discussed, if they're exclusive or anything and he might be intruding on something and that little voice in the back of his head that tells him nobody's ever all in is getting so loud... He freezes at the bottom of the stairs, just before he can turn the corner and see something. What the hell is he doing. How fast can he back track without Tommy noticing that he's being jealous and weird and-

The music stops.

Well. Here goes.

“Evan?”

Tommy can't help it, his face lights up at the sight of him. Which is weird, because Evan looks sort of mortified. Probably because Tommy had bailed on something important to him under the guise of being sick and here he is, very much not throwing up or hiding from the light or anything, slicked with so much sweat his hair has dropped a few shades in colour.

“Tommy. Y- You're feeling better?”

“You brought a sandwich?”

“Botticelli's.”

Damn it. Tommy throws his head back, closes his eyes as a pang of guilt punches through him. The kid went and brought his favourite sandwich. He just wants to make sure he's okay. Damn it, damn it.

“I can explain.”

“Is this because you're not ready to meet Athena? 'Cause she can give one hell of a shovel talk but she's cool, really.”

“I've met Athena,” Tommy assures him. In spite of himself, a smile touches his lips, because that was kind of a significant part of this whole thing. “Evan – I promise, this has nothing to do with us.”

It seems to help a little bit. At least, enough that Evan trails after him into the basement proper while he paces and takes a swig of water and tries to wrangle the courage to say it.

“The fourth of July is just... not my thing,” he manages. “I don't really like fireworks.”

He looks Evan in the eyes as he puts it together. Maybe he knows Eddie doesn't either, maybe he knows it's a common trigger for veterans, maybe he just knows what it's like to try and pack the depths of unspeakable horror into words. Especially when you're meant to be a badass fearless firefighter.

“I'm sorry,” Evan says. The fear and confusion and anguish melts away, his expression painfully earnest and concerned as he closes the distance between them. Part of Tommy wants to bury his face, to freeze like a rabbit or run and hide, but something about Evan, as always, makes him stay.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes. “I didn't mean to lie. I'm just … used to dealing with this by myself. And you- you're so- I mean, you died? You actually, for real died in a thunder storm and you got in a helicopter to fly into a hurricane like it was nothing. I guess I worried you wouldn't get it.”

Evan cups a hand around the back of his neck and it's grounding, it's nice, and Tommy's forehead falls forward against Evan's. He takes a ragged breath. Evan's phone starts ringing.

“You don't have to tell me,” Evan says, “what you've been through. But I'm here for you, okay? If you want me.” He glances at his phone and adds- “It's Maddie. Just checking where I'm at. Want me to tell them I'm not coming?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. Go. I'll be alright here, have a night in. My boyfriend brought me my favourite sandwich."

He smiles. Buck smiles back, and presses forward a gentle, comforting kiss before they part. Tommy shakes it off as he heads back toward the stairs, but there's a long stretch of silence. The muffled whistle and echoing boom of an airbomb sails overhead and he can hear Tommy's breath quietly catch and it's almost as if it pulls out the words from his chest.

“I can't remember the lightning.”

“Hm?”

He turns back. Tommy is watching after him.

“I can't remember the lightning, Tommy. That's probably why I can fly into a hurricane. It's- actually it's pineapple jello for me. It was all I could eat for weeks after they took the tubes out. Pineapple jello and vanilla icecream. The first time I smelt a piña colada after I got out, I thought I was going to die.”

I get it.

Tommy nods. After a beat, he adds-

“And hey, Evan. This is something I kind of like to keep to myself. So if anyone asks-”

“Violent gastro. Got it.”

He rolls his eyes, and huffs, and smiles as he tucks the little foam earplug back in place.

“I love you, too.”

#bucktommy #tevan #911 fic #buck #tommy kinard #clara's fic tag

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azsazz · 1 year ago

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Break Up in a Small Town

Modern!Cassian x Archeron Sister!Reader

Summary: Based off of the song Break Up in a Small Town by Sam Hunt: You and Cassian have broken up and everything in town reminds him of you. It's inevitable that he sees you around, and it's hard for him to be okay when he sees you with your new man.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, drinking.

Word Count: 4,489

Notes: Small town Cassian giving me life rn.

_________________________________________

Cassian knew he would see you around.

It’s hard not to see someone he knows every time he leaves his house—the town has less than a thousand people for fucks sake. There isn’t a day that goes by where someone doesn’t stop to talk to him while he’s putting gas in his beat-down Ford Bronco or chatting him up while he tries to pay for his food in the drive through.

And normally, he welcomes it. He loves to shoot the shit with people he’s known since he was young. He’d run into Tarquin the other day at Walmart while he was picking up a rack of beer for tonight's party. He hadn’t seen the team captain of the high school football team since he’d heard Tarquin received a full scholarship to Ole Miss. He was the only one on their team to do so, though Cassian also had recruiters watching him at games. Thanks to a nasty red-flag tackle by Jurian which left his ACL torn during the championship game, they’d pulled their offers back quicker than a greased pig. Hybern High went all for nothing that year.

He still looked sheepish when Azriel’s mother had checked him out at the grocery store, even though he’s been of age for a few years now. Cassian’s cheeks flushed under her knowing look: she’d caught them more times than he could count when they were teenagers trying to find a way to sneak booze without her knowing.

The party is in full swing. Drinks are flowing and Kallias has taken over the speakers to play his mixtape. The bass is so heavy Cassian can hardly hear the words, but Vivianne’s vocals are grating, pitched too high and not on key with the rest of the notes. He shares a look with Azriel, who cringes, but clinks his beer against Cassian’s before throwing the whole can back.

Cassian follows suit, downing the cheap beer like it’s his job. It’s not his occupation, no, that would be working on cars down at Bryaxis’ Axles, but it’s pretty much his secondary one. He trails Azriel into the kitchen, wading through people gyrating on the makeshift dance floor. They round the counter laden with alcohol—tequila, empty fruity vodka shots that Mor has forced him to take with her, and some concoction of juices and multiple alcohols that nearly burned off his nose hairs when he smelt it—and make way for the fridge where he’d stuffed his beer. It better still be in there or there will be hell to pay.

“When’s Rhys coming down again?” Cassian asks, taking the beer from Azriel as he rises. He tries not to let his fingers brush his quiet friends. They’re marred and Azriel doesn't like when attention of any kind is brought to them, even though Cassian and Rhysand had never held it against him.

A house fire was the rumor around town. But Azriel had only set it straight with him and Rhys at a sleepover one night, when it was going on four in the morning and they were sleep deprived and drunk off their first beers. Maybe Azriel had thought they wouldn’t remember the next day, but there was no way Cassian could forget that his step brothers had taken the lighter fluid form the garage and set his hands ablaze because of their sadistic tendencies.

Azriel’s mother had taken him and moved as far as she could with the money she was saving up, but they’d only made it a few towns over, and Cassian is thankful. Azriel’s father had never shown his face in the years he’s lived here.

“No idea,” Azriel responds, stepping aside to let Thesean into the fridge. The fucker dips his hand right into Cassian’s box of beer, pulling one out before diving in for a second. Cassian grits his teeth but when the other man straightens he notices how glazed over his eyes are, and Cassian knows his threats won’t land. “You know he’s got that internship up in New York.”

Right, while Cassian could only afford to go to their local college, Rhysand’s parents sent him to the most expensive one they could buy him into. And Azriel’s had a job since he was a teenager, when hacking into cameras around town for fun turned into something that made serious money. He bought his mother a house and everything, even offered a room to Cassian, but Cassian wants to make his own way, even if he is living in a run down apartment across town. It’s his, and he worked hard for it.

“Shit, you’re right,” Cassian sighs. It turns into a full on glare when the backdoor shoves open and Balthazar stumbles through, arm wrapped around Emerie for support. The man’s eyes light up at the sight of him and Azriel, while Emerie parts with a sour look in his direction, slinking off into the living room.

“What’s up?” Balthazar slurs, leaning heavily against the counter. He looks like he might slide right off of it, but neither he nor Azriel do anything about it.

“Hey, Balth,” Az greets, popping the top of his beer so he has something to do. They’ll be trapped with the talkative man if they don’t think of an excuse to leave soon.

Balthazar’s eyes light up at the sound of the can cracking open, but neither of the men before him offer to get him one. No matter for him, he pulls a joint from the pocket of his jeans and a bat shaped lighter from the other, flicking it to life and setting the tip ablaze.

“You guys hear Feyre might be pregnant?” He says through a deep inhale of smoke. Cassian shares a look with Azriel, who never seems affected by any of the small town gossip. He never seems affected by anything, really.

His heart skips at the thought of Feyre. Not because of her and whoever the father of this maybe child might be, but because he’s reminded of you, her sister, the girl he’d lost. Gods, did Cassian fuck up royally when it came to you.

He takes the bait. Anything to get his mind off of you. “No fucking way.”

Balthazar smiles smug, holding the joint out their way. Cassian declines with a wave of his beer, but Azriel takes a hit, obviously uncomfortable with how crowded and rowdy the party has become.

“Yup. Apparently it was a one night stand with ‘the most beautiful man she’s ever seen,’” he bats his eyes like a simpering girl, voice pitched high in his best impression of the youngest Archeron sister.

Azriel answers through a puff of thick smoke, his voice already scratchy with it. “But isn’t she with—”

“Tam? Yeah, man, I thought so too.”

Cassian sighs, looking at his beercan. It’s full, so there’s no excuse for him to turn away and grab another. He’s wracking his mind for anything he can use as an excuse to escape the conversation, his night gone sour now that his mind is on you. It likely will be for the rest of the night too, and he’d rather sit on his futon and wallow by himself than to stay at this party.

“Speaking of Archerons,” Balthazar says, taking the joint back from Azriel. “How are you and—”

Fuck it, Cassian thinks, because Balthazar is totally drunk enough not to notice his full beer. “I think I need another drink,” he states, and Azriel glares as he abandons him with Balthazar. That man can gossip for hours, and luckily, silent old Azriel is the perfect listener.

“Isn’t the fridge right behind you?” he hears Balthazar ask Azriel as he retreats, but he doesn’t care. He shoves his beer onto the counter as he makes his way towards the front of the house where his Bronco’s parked.

He hasn’t had that much to drink yet, not even a slight buzz has kicked in, or it’s been dulled from Balthazar's painful topic of gossip. Cassian slips through the crowd as easily as a six foot five man can, girls trying to lure him onto the dance floor and guys clapping him on the back, rallying him for the next game of beer pong.

Cassain politely declines, reaching for the knob just as it pushes open and his heart stops.

It’s you.

His breath is forced from his chest by your beauty. You look amazing as always, hair done up to perfection and eyes alight with the shots you’d taken for confidence, a part of you knowing that you might see him here tonight. You’re laughing with Elain and Feyre who cling to your sides, and Nesta brings the Archeron clan to a close. Your steps falter and grin drops when you meet Cassian’s eyes.

Your mouth parts as if to say something, but Nesta’s interrupting and shoving you inside with a grumble and a curse spat Cassian’s way. His heart shatters again as he watches you walk deeper into the living room without a glance back at him.

He clenches his jaw and steps out into the cool night.

⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

You haunt him.

It’s a week later and Cassian hasn’t stopped thinking about you. How…good you looked, glowing and laughing whole-heartedly with your sisters when he’s hardly been able to even get out of bed. You’re still burrowed too deep in his heart. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, your hands, your—

He knows you haven't left town, but it feels like you have, with the way you’re avoiding each other. And you seem to be a professional at it, since it's been almost two months since the night you left him. He was a fool to let you go, not fight for you the way you surely wanted because he had accepted failure all too easily. You had made more than one good point. Cassian can’t be what you need.

Cassian hadn’t seen you at the football game tonight. The Velaris Stars had made it to the championship game of the season and everyone in town had come out for it, as the only exciting event for all to enjoy.

He’d gone with Azriel, of course, and even Rhysand had responded to his video of the winning touchdown. The popcorn had been fresh and the air was jovial, the night ending on a high note. The team is going to state.

Fiddling with the stations on his radio at the red light, he doesn’t realize that you’ve pulled up next to him until your giggles filter through the cracked window of your car and his heart stops. He thinks he hears you sometimes, telling him to knock it off when he’s had one too many beers or makes an ill-timed joke. The height differences in your small car compared to his tall one make it difficult to look, but he sits straighter and cranes his neck to see out the passenger window, and yep. It’s definitely you.

In your white Nissan he knows better than his own car. That thing is always breaking down. His heart pinches in his chest when he’s reminded of the time you’d taken it out into the fields to go stargazing. It wouldn’t start and your phones had died. Instead of walking ten miles back to town, you’d asked him to stay up with you all night under the stars, laughing and kissing like it was your last night on Earth.

Cassian wonders who's working on your car now that you’re no longer together.

He doesn’t know why you’re laughing, but he revels in the sound of it even though he feels like shit because he’s not the one making those noises coming from your mouth. Cassian wears a soft smile, thinking about all of the good times you’ve shared, until he notices the hand on your thigh.

The smile falls right off of his face.

His knuckles turn white from how hard he grips the steering wheel. The bright red of the streetlight pours into your car but he can’t see the passengers face, all he knows is that’s a man's hand holding your leg and soothing over it with his thumb. His teeth grind.

You refuse to look his way. Surely, you must know that you’ve pulled up beside him at this Godforsaken light that for some reason will not turn the fuck green. No, they want him to sit here and see what he’s lost, how happy you are with someone new.

And when the light finally changes he can’t seem to move. He sees your fleeting smile as you take off and he’s left reading that silly bumper sticker Nesta had slapped on the back bumper when she was the one who owned the car, the ‘honk if you like reading smut’ in thick, bold letters laughing at him in the face.

⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

The worst part about this breakup is, everywhere he goes reminds him of you.

You used to hang out with the same group of people but since the breakup happened Cassian didn’t want any of them to be stuck in the betweens of your fucked up relationship. He couldn’t even suggest trying to be friends because the thought of that alone made him want to throw up. He could never be friends with you, he doesn’t want to, because knowing you in the way that he did and not being able to touch you and hold you and fuck you like he did was much too painful. He kept Azriel in the breakup and let you have everyone else.

When he goes to the McDonald’s for lunch he sees the booth you’d spent almost two hours in, wrappers from ice cream cone strewn about the table because you asked shyly if he would judge you if you went back for a second cone and he grinned mischievously and asked if you wanted to bet on who could down more ice cream. He won, of course, but it had been a valiant effort from you nonetheless.

When he went to the library to return the book he hadn’t even cracked the spine of. He thought reading would help take his mind off of the breakup but Cassian didn’t have the energy. Gwyn was at the front desk, glaring up at him as he slid the book across the counter for her to return. The workspace was filled with art supplies, a post-it note with Feyre and your names scrawled on it and he remembered that the both of you host a arts and crafts day for the children in town once a month. Gwyn had caught his eye and shooed him away. Nesta would have been proud of the shy girl.

When he drives down the country curves, avoiding the crossroads to your house completely. All of the places he’d haphazardly pulled over when you were searching for a place to have sex. But there’s no privacy in these small towns so the back of his Bronco would have to do. It was spacious, but never the place he really wanted to take you in. He wanted to give you a proper bed and worship you like you deserved. If you’d only given him a few more years he would have his own place, though you merit a plush, large bed instead of his paper thin futon.

Cassian stops into Alice’s cafe. It’s fairly early in the morning, but the place is still packed because it’s one of the only restaurants in town. Somethings off about him today, though, and maybe it’s because his mind hasn’t stopped working overtime, trying to figure out who was in that car with you.

Why hadn’t he been driving? Did you want to drive or was he so pretentious that he wouldn’t take you around town? Does he even have a car? He can’t stop overanalyzing the situation and he’s sleep deprived. All he wants is a fucking coffee and the town doesn’t even have a Starbucks yet, so he has to park his car in the overflow lot and go inside. He doesn’t want to be bothered, but the cafe is crawling with townies, so it’s inevitable he’ll see someone he knows.

He doesn’t expect it to be you.

It’s not like you’re sitting in any of the booths that line his path to the ordering counter. His eyes seem to gravitate towards you no matter where you are, and your playful flirting is unmistakable. He knows, he’s been happily on the other side of that banter before.

Cassian’s gaze locks on you first. You look perfect, unfazed by anything happening in the loud cafe around you. Dishes clang together as the waitress gathers them. It’s Cerridwen, and her twin Naula is manning the espresso machine, Cassian notices when the waitress nods her direction, letting you know that your latte will only be a few more minutes.

“Take your time,” you reassure, eyes sparkling as they move back across the table. Cassian wishes that Cerridwen would move out of the way so he can see who you’re smiling at. “I’m in no rush.”

And then she steps away and his world comes screeching to a halt.

He knows who was in that car with you because he’s sitting across from you right now, a fox-like smile on his face.

Eris Vanserra.

The most pretentious of the Vanserras, if Cassian does say so himself. They’ve never gotten along, mostly due to the fact that Eris is a raging, rich, dick and he’s from the boonies. The Vanserra’s are some of the wealthiest folk in town, their father, Beron, a successful farmer. They own half of the land in this town and then some.

He knows that Eris can take care of you, money wise, but does the asshole please you in bed? He looks like he’s all take and not give. He knows that Eris has a working car, a nice one too, so he doesn’t understand why you were driving him around that night, but it doesn’t seem to matter at the moment when all of the thoughts racing through his head incinerate with his anger.

Cassian’s fingers curl into fists.

Of course it’s Eris. Of. Fucking. Course. It. Is. It couldn’t have been anyone else? Not Bron or Hart or even Lucien? The nicest of the Vanserras? Cassian knows he’s been in a steady relationship with Elain since they were in middle school, but still. Isn’t it weird to be dating the brother of your sister's boyfriend? Cassian sure as fuck thinks so.

This is utterly ridiculous and he’s raging. He needs to get out of here before he picks up your latte and brings it over to you, shoving Eris further into the booth so he can slam his hands down on that table and yell, “Why him?”

Cassian abandons the idea of getting coffee and spins on his heel, ignoring some of the people who try to greet him, leaving the cafe as quickly as he can.

⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

“You knew?” he asks into the phone. The bite of pizza in his mouth turns to sludge and he feels betrayed, but he’ll let Azriel explain because surely his best friend hasn’t kept the fact that you’re seeing one of the Vanserra’s a secret from him.

Azriel shrugs, and something shuffles across the line. “I uh, I’ve been talking to Gwyn.”

Ah. So he’s finally trying to make a move on the fiery redhead from the library. He’s proud of Azriel on the inside, but it doesn’t reflect in his tone because he’s hurt by the subdued man’s actions.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You never want to talk about her!” Cassian’s dumbstruck. He’s never heard Azriel so loud, irked by his sad nature. His mouth parts even though he doesn’t know how to respond but that’s more than okay because Azriel’s not finished yet. “It’s been months, Cass. You can’t expect her to wallow in sadness for the rest of her life.” And, ouch. That one felt like a direct shot at him. “She was bound to move on at some point and Eris treats her well enough, if that’s what you’re wondering.” It wasn’t, and that just stings more.

Cassian’s reply is quiet, throat tight. “I’ve got to go.”

Azriel sighs down the line, sensing he’s fucked up. “Cass—”

“No, it’s cool, Az. I’ve just got shit to do. I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up on Azriel’s protest, making a face at the half eaten slice of pizza in his hand. Cassian tosses it back into the box and sits further back in his chair, running his fingers through his almost too-long hair.

Fuck. He can’t sit around and think about you and Eris together or he’ll actually go nuts. With a grunt he stands, swiping his keys from the bowl by the door. He has to work out his frustrations, and there’s only one thing that can help him with that.

He’ll go to work.

⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

“Cass?” Helion calls, “What are you doing here?”

“Just need to work off some frustration,” Cassian says, cringing at the hard edge to his voice. He flings his keys on the top of the tool box before slipping into his grease-stained shirt. He shoves his finger into the button to raise his car on the lift, snagging his safety-goggles from the shelf and sliding them on.

Helion appears, sliding back into the open doorway of his office, a teasing grin on his face. “You know, when I was your age, working off frustration meant—”

“Now’s really not the best time, Helion,” Cassian responds, taking his quarter inch wrench and walking beneath his car, examining the underside. He knows exactly what needs to be done, all of the parts that he can’t afford on his meager wages means that he has to purchase them slowly, one at a time, and it’s likely that the new parts will be worn in and rusted by the time he even comes close to finishing this project.

Fucking small towns.

“Girl troubles?”

Cassian shoots him a sour look that only makes the older man laugh. “Isn’t it always?”

“When I was young,” Helion starts again and Cassian rolls his eyes. The owner of the mechanics shop always starts his stories with variations of ‘When I was your age’ or ‘when I was young.’ It’s annoyingly endearing at the best of times, but right now, it’s down right infuriating, especially since Cassian wants to be alone. “I had a girl too. She was everything to me, and I had plans to marry her.” The older man's tone goes soft, longing, and Cassian pauses his work to look over. “A pretty thing, long, amber hair and all soft smiles…”

“What happened?” Cassian asks, but is weary, already sensing how this story might end.

Helion shrugs, as if after all of this time it doesn’t bother him. Clearly, it's not the case and Cassain wonders if this is his destiny, to end up like Helion, alone and longing for the woman he’s lost. His heart aches.

“She got away,” his boss answers sadly, eyes dull. “I couldn’t be who she wanted me to be, so she left me. Found herself someone better off than me.” Cassian wonders who it could be. Helion was born in this town and never left, never wanted to, but he’s not sure if it’s because the woman he is still so clearly in love with is here and he’s waiting for his chance to be with her, or if it’s because the man has nowhere else to go.

“Sounds similar to what I’m going through right now,” Cassian sighs, shoving his goggles up on his head. He’s clearly not going to get any work done, so he slumps into the extra chair by Helion's desk, a frown on his face. “Helion? Is there something you would do differently?”

The older man sighs, assessing him deeply. It makes Cassian shift uncomfortably in his seat.

And when he speaks, it’s exactly what Cassian needs to hear. “I would’ve gotten the hell out of dodge, had I been smart.”

⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱

The drink he had at Rita’s hadn’t been a good idea. His stomach is in knots, and the alcohol hadn’t helped loosen them in the slightest.

Is he really going to do this?

He had the entire night to think about his plans, his future. Had Helion been honest when he said that he should’ve left town to avoid the heartbreak that plagued him? Could skipping out actually help mend his aching heart?

It might be worth a shot.

Cassian’s backpack is light, stuffed with only the necessities. He’d called Rhys on his drive back to his apartment, and he’d offered him the second bedroom at his apartment for the summer if the Bronco could make it all the way up to New York.

It would be a change, a big one that makes his heart pound in his chest to even consider, but if fleeing town like a coward will help him heal from the breakup, it might be worth the shot.

He decides that he has enough money to make it to New York, and he’ll call Azriel when he gets there, or when he’s on the road and bored of seeing only the highway. He knows Az will be hurt, upset that he didn’t tell him in person, but he’s still mad at the quiet man for keeping your relationship with Eris a secret.

Azriel was being a good friend to you, that Cassian knows, but it still hurts. It hurts to think about Azriel hanging out with you and your sisters and their boyfriends, how he might even actually get along with Eris somehow. The thought of being friends with Eris Vanserra has always been foreign to Cassain.

He takes a last look around his apartment. Azriel will send down the rest of his stuff later, he knows it. His lease ends soon anyway, so if he’s going to leave town, now is the perfect time.

There isn’t anything in this apartment he’ll miss. He’d thrown away the things he kept from your relationship in a fit of rage when he found out about you and Eris. He’d regretted it immediately after.

Cassian loses a breath. A fresh start in a completely different state. This is what he needs.

He shuts off the lights and turns the knob one last time before stepping into the new chapter of his life. New York, here I come.

The streetlight spills through the open crack, illuminating the figure on the other side, hand poised to knock.

Cassian stills, hand so tight on the knob he thinks it might warp, the sight of you in his doorway a shocking surprise.

You’re twisting your fingers together nervously, shifting on your feet like you’re not sure what you’re doing here at all.

“Hey, Cass…”

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #modern!cassian #azsazz

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bonesy-doodles · 4 months ago

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(Asking on anon bc my ghost blog is my side blog LOL) but I was looking at your post about Copia learning ballet when he was younger and I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. Do you think any of the other Papa's had any other kind of artistic hobbies? I like to think Primo may have really enjoyed painting, when he had the time [from sacred-coffin]

Hiiii! Glad you liked Copia knowing ballet, I'm glad my years of suffering through the Nutcracker Ballet has come in handy (my cousin was a ballerina). But yeah, I took your question to my council (my two wives), and we all came up with several ideas for each of the other Emeritus brothers! Not all of these are exactly artistic, just kinda became general hobbies or things the papas liked to do.

Primo

I am one of those people that does enjoy Primo as a gardener, but not in the traditional sense. His knowledge pertains mostly to poisonous and carnivorous plants, but he also does know how to make a lot of natural remedies because he just finds herbal medicine practices fascinating. Although, only some members of the Ministry actually trust him and his tinctures.

Primo has “accidentally” poisoned a Bishop once. When asked if he knew that he put something he wasn’t supposed to into the bottle, he said “oh Satanas, my vision must be going”. He definitely did on purpose cause the Bishop took a nasty tone with him once.

In his personal book collection, I feel like he has a lot of vintage plant encyclopedias and anything like that for his garden obsession.

Definitely a purveyor of classical music compared to the other Papas, but in the sense he prefers scores that are evil in vibes. Also, definitely can play the violin. He’s not like, perfect at playing, but good enough not to annoy those that can hear it.

I would love for him to have an electric violin, but Primo is the type to always prefer classic string instruments over electric ones. Definitely has like an ebony stained wood violin.

Primo also has a fascination with insects, probably goes along with his plant fascination. He’s definitely into insect pinning and has frames filled with different moths, butterflies, beetles, and downright terrifying insects within his office.

Secondo

This man is a drinks connoisseur, in several ways. Secondo is big into coffee and alcohol. He’s never been the biggest morning person and coffee has basically been his lifeline since he became of Priest in the Ministry. Has all the shit needed for steaming milk and making espresso and all the jazz. I feel like he can even do that milk art and shit, but only spooky or sexual designs. For alcohol, he’s big into mixology. Grade A mixologist here.

Within the Chapter House, where most of the high ranked and important people of the Ministry have their rooms, some of their offices, and big important meetings, there’s also like recreational rooms for them. One of them has basically been claimed by the Emeritus bro trio for their game nights (Uno and other shit), because it has the bar that Secondo has stocked himself. He always mixes the drinks for himself and his brothers.

When he was Papa, his Papal office also had a personal bar.

I feel like this man is big into suits, reminds me of the way NBC’s Hannibal was big into suit fashion. He knows how to look refined and exactly how to pair a suit to tie and pocket square for every occasion. He’s had an extensive closet ever since he was younger. As Papa, he took every chance he could to be out of his Papal robes and Mitre and be in one of his many suits.

In terms of an instrument he knows, I’m not exactly certain, but I’m feeling a big instrument, maybe a cello, string bass, or something else, but its gotta be a deep and thuddy instrument, but I don’t think he plays it anymore. Left it behind as he went up the ranks of the Ministry.

Terzo

This man is a certified film buff. I mean, look at all his music videos. They reference so much. It’s all 1920’s Art Deco, with German expressionism like the Cabinet of Dr. Calgiri, Faust, and Nosferatu, as well as all the early 1900s horror movies like Dracula, Frankenstein, Jekyll and Hyde, etc.

From that era of horror movies, hands down, his favorite movie is Frankenstein, and loves the Bride of Frankenstein.

Alongside that, I feel like Terzo is very into that era of fashion, considering his second stage outfit and the ghoul outfits. Also just fashion in general. Man likes fancy clothes, it’s just unfortunate Sister Imperator didn’t give his version of the Ghost Project for funding.

Another thing Terzo did when he was younger is theater. Musicals, plays, talent shows, you name it. He always loved being on stage, being the lead of the show, its what helped him be such a charismatic Papa.

I feel like his favorite production he ever stared in was Cabaret.

Terzo picked up the guitar when he was younger as well, plays it every now and again, but not as often as Primo plays his violin. (This is so sad, Terzo play Wonderwall).

Totally didn’t fall in love with both his guitarists (totally doesn’t admire their abilities to play the guitar, totally didn’t pretend to be bad at playing guitar so that they would teach him, totally not).

Also, so good at playing the kazoo.

Bonus, Papa Nihil

He picked up crocheting when he was older to try and make gifts for Sister Imperator.

Unfortunately, Copia would have to be a whole other post as there’s a lot I could say about him as he’s my bestest guy.

#bonesy talks #the band ghost #papa headcanons #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa nihil #papa primo #papa secondo #papa terzo

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teacupballerina · 2 months ago

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PPG headcanons/plotbunnies townie and villain edition (non-crossover)

Mr. Green and Ms. Keane live in the same apartment complex. They meet after Keane's breakup in "Keen on Keane" when Green notices that Keane seems upset at the mail center. They start talking and--what a coincidence they both love kids!! A few episodes later Ms. Keane catches a nasty illness from amoeba-tainted oranges after "Divide and Conquer" and the only person she trusts to watch over her beloved class in "Substitute Creature" is Mr. Green. A few years later they get married and have halflings who help the new generation in Townsville stomach monster integration.

Robin's parents divorce not long after Super Friends and she blames herself because they are verbally abusive. They have split custody so Robin is only the Utoniums' neighbor every other week. She has an emo phase in middle school and cuts her hair short. Inspiration: the couple her parents were based on divorced IRL and she knows she's "an accident".

Following from previous, in high school Bubbles and Robin become girlfriends, Bubbles is the one who confesses first.

Buttercup taught Ace how to play bass during some never-made episode where the girls teach them to play instruments as part of a rehabilitation effort after Aspirations. ("If you want to meet girls, why don't you guys start a band?") The gang goes on to form a ska band with Snake on guitar, Ace on bass, Billy on drums, Arturo on trumpet (which he already knew how to play somehow) and Grubber on mic. They eventually split when Ace gets the call from Gorillaz.

Sedusa is Ms. Keane's elder sister. This is the reason Ms. Keane is more sympathetic to monsters and mutants. She doesn't have a lot of time between grading homework to keep up with supervillain activity, so she doesn't know half of what Sedusa has done. At some point they meet again and catch up, Sedusa goes low profile after "Aspirations" and leans more into civilian life. The girls don't find out the relation until after leaving Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, at Ms. Keane's wedding to Mr. Green.

Bubbles stays in touch with Wuzzy after "Roughin' It Up" and learns more about the forest and the Lumpkins clan from him. She even dates Wuzzy for a while and has a farmgirl phase, buying vegan leather cowboy boots that she wears into adulthood. This all helps her connect with and befriend Fuzzy himself, who learns to be more accepting through her. LOOK HOW CUTE THO:

Mojo Jojo ages very slowly due to his Chemical X mutation. His specific fixation on Blossom culminates in his focus shifting to either converting or dating her rather than destroying her (something he comes to understand as impossible). Even he doesn't know what he wants and has a lot of anguish over how he feels about her. Blossom's willing to be friends if he stops busting the city up, but she's never telling him that.

The Rowdyruff boys grow into manchildren and start "The Ruffcast", a manosphere podcast/youtube where they do nothing but play videogames, pump iron and complain about the Powerpuff Girls being too smart, too fat, and not feminine enough. Mitch Mitchelson gets roped in as the camera guy and occasional participant, which makes Buttercup dump him.

Princess Morbucks goes from wanting to be a Powerpuff Girl to just wanting to be a team leader. She recruits/buys her own team of girls to suit up and boss around, and this becomes a high-turnover job position for desperate people. Every other time the girls meet Princess, her lackeys are different. Daddy eventually disowns her not for being a villain but for being a tabloid magnet in college, forcing her to start over with nothing. One last ditch effort leads her to public records, and searching for any extended family to appeal to, she discovers her birth mother is Sara Bellum [A lesbian who used to be Morbucks' secretary--she loves Mayor because he's a harmless decent man who helped her escape that situation by hiring her]. Bellum takes her in, reluctantly, but she is totally immune to manipulation and sets her straight.

Ms. Bellum eventually runs for Mayor of Townsville and wins. Mayor Mayor retires to Pokey Oaks senior center. The girls visit him often and occasionally consult him for info about Townsville's history if needed--it's much easier for him to remember things from a long time ago, he's not so good with the day-to-day stuff. Bubbles volunteers there with Bullet, who opens Mayor's pickle jars when the nurses can't.

Harry Pitt running gag: Getting referenced as being in juvie and then prison, but it's never stated what he did. We know what he's in for, but the other characters never say.

#ppg #powerpuff girls #headcanoning #i could spit these out all day tbh #some are from brewedwar and some are ancient fandom hcs and some are just personal

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valiantroeagleangel · 10 months ago

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Ruffilo's alphabet

Nicholas Ruffilo x female reader

After the Will Ramos one, one of you asked me to do Bad Omens's alphabets so here we go. Starting with Ruffilo my beloved. This is obviously NSFW.

Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Princess treatment. This dude is getting you everything you need without you asking. If it was dirty and painful he is running you a bath afterwards. If all you need is comfort and a hug don't even bother yourself by asking, he will know and you'll be immediately in his arms.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If we are talking ass and boobs this is an ASS DUDE ladies and gents. Saw a picture of one of his girlfriends one day, don't know if she still is, but that girl had THIGHS and ASS. Guys, I swear the booty was serving.

That aside I think Nicholas is really romantic and would love your smile or something like that. Maybe your eyes because they light up when you talk about something you love.

And on him it gotta be his hair, it's so fucking shiny and pretty I hope he is aware of that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I had this strange headcanon that he likes to finish on the small of your back in doggy style. Why? I don't know but this is the vibe I'm going with. Or maybe watch it drip down your thighs.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

JERKED OFF WITH NOAH ONCE. I'm sorry but the bromance between these two is too sus, especially during their younger years.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh, he knows what he is doing. Especially fingering. I mean come on he plays BASS. The fingers are skilled and don't get tired.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Everything I can imagine with Nicholas is doggy style or maybe you on your knees, looking at him from under. I don't know if it counts as a position but I'm pretty sure he loves the view.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No jokes are involved in bed. This dude is so focused that he will not break his character. Either if it's the dom Nick or Sub Nick headcanon he is always so serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Groomed. Well groomed. This dude's hair is so perfect that I'm pretty sure he takes care of it even down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romantic baby as fuck. Maybe he won't express it with his words but 👏actions ladies👏. He will set up the romantic stuff. Take you to dinner and then when you go home, he will slowly get you in the mood with candles and stuff.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jacks off a lot. Maybe it's because I love that idea of him jerking off but please- he is doing it and he loves it. Sometimes he calls you while doing it, loving how nasty things are going.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling. No explanation needed. He'll take you doggy style and pull your hair so that his lips are meeting your shoulders as he talks dirty to you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed because he likes it long and uninterrupted.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

Do you see this situation where you are wearing a skirt or a dress and when you sit down how thick your thighs can turn and how it makes your skirt roll up? This dude is going feral for this. He is going to grab your thighs so hard and you know you're good for one.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

CNC, dubious consent, these kind of things.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

BLOWJOBS PEOPLE. 👏 Back to the position headcanon but he dies for you to get on your knees, looking at him with doe eyes as he looks down. His large hand at the roots of your hair, he massages your head as you just unbutton his pants, still not breaking the eye contact.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very controlled in his moves you know. Will slowly thrust into you but in a very precise way, a little bit sporty. I don't see him going fast and rough in a messy way, like he is going crazy. Nope, that's not for him, he will go rough, fast if you want but he will stay in control. Even with the sub Nick headcanon, this dude knows how to handle himself.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't enjoy them much but isn't against it. He would rather fuck you nice and slow for hours long but if it's all you can do then he will take it. It's still sex and he enjoys it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

One day I read a fic on AO3 about Nick fucking you in the bathroom next to the rest of the band and I'm going feral for this. Risky in the risky public sex kind of way. Besides that, will experiment but nothing too crazy I think. Is naughty but not a freak or he is hiding it very well.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Has stamina for sure, dude is going for hours. Once again he is controlling himself so if he wants to fuck you dumb all night long he will fuck you dumb all night long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Has toys for himself, uses them once in a while you know. If he is away for a long time he will use some but I don't see him using toys much with you. He doesn't have anything against it, he just doesn't enjoy them. He likes the connection that he can have with you during sex and he feels more intimate without them. They are good to help out when you guys are separated that's all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Will tease you but he isn't a bitch. He likes to play, enjoys your reactions but won't make you cry or beg to come. He is not that much of an asshole. Once again I think he is a balance between like the cold dom and the romantic lover.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Isn't that much of a vocal person. Maybe he will groan into your ear, breathe loudly or moan occasionally, but he isn't like super loud or expressive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He watches weird hentai. Who do you think introduced Noah to this?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Massive and heavy. That's all I need to say.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I would say multiple times a week? But it can be really long so that's definitely not every day or multiple times a day. Once again it's all about balance.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don't think he really is the type to just go straight to sleep and snore a few seconds later. He will cuddle you for a bit, make sure you're alright and that everything is fine. Aftercare and then when you're both in good condition he will put you to sleep.

#nicholas ruffilo #bad omens #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #headcanons #alphabet

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omegaremix · 4 months ago

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Omega Radio for July 19 & July 20, 2014; #56.

Wu-Tang Clan “Can It Be So Simple”

Public Enemy “Tie Goes To The Runner”

A Tribe Called Quest “Lyrics To Go”

Wu-Tang Clan “Da Mystery Of Chessboxing”

Black Moon “Crooklyn”

Gang Starr “Take It Personal”

Organized Konfusion f. O.C. “You Won’t Go Far”

Boogiemonsters “R.T.N.S. (Recognized Thresholds Of Negative Stress)”

Bushwackass “Ruff, Rugged, And Raw”

Jeru Tha Damaja “Mental Stamina”

AZ “Rather Unique”

Notorious B.I.G. “Unbelievable”

Group Home “Suspended In Time”

Funkdoobiest “Doobie In The Head”

Q-Ball & Kurt Kazal “Makin’ Moves (Bass Radio VER)”

Smooth Da Hustler “Broken Language”

Mic Geronimo “Shit’s Real”

Half A Mil “Another Homicide Scene”

Kool Keith (as Dr. Octagon) “Blue Flowers”

All City “Move On You” (RMX)

Reflection Eternal f. Gil-Scott Heron “The Blast”

Big L “Holdin’ It Down”

GZA f. DJ Muggs “When The Fat Lady Sings”

Bad Seed “For The Kids”

Deltron 3030 “Virus”

Hieroglyphics “Oakland Blackouts”

Smut Peddlers “One By One” (demo)

Kool G Rap & RZA “Cakes”

Slum Villlage “Raise It Up”

KRS-One “Underground”

Nas f. Large Professor “Stay Chiseled”

Peanut Butter Wolf “Dopestyle”

Company Flow “8 Steps To Perfection”

Yak Ballz “Nasty Or Nice”

Arsonists “Flashback”

Chi-N.Y. Network “Keep The Fame”

Dalek “Trampled Brethen”

Rubberoom “Evil Arch Angels”

Murs “H-U-S-T-L-E”

Company Flow “Collude / Interlude”

Cannibal Ox f. Vast Aire “Atom”

Smut Peddlers “Smut Control”

MF Grimm f. Kool G Rap & Akinyele “AIDS”

Cage f. Jello Biafra “Grand Ol’ Party Crash”

King Gheedorah “Take Me To Your Leader (Fazers)”

Madlib as Quasimoto “Return Of The Loop Digga”

MF Grimm f. MF Doom “Foolish”

Vast Aire “Cholesterol”

Madvillain “America’s Most Blunted”

MF Doom & MF Grimm “Tick Tock pt. 2”

King Gheedorah “G-Force pt. 2”

Molemen “Put Your Quarter Up”

R.A. The Rugged Man “On The Block”

CX Kidtronik “Wild Kingdom”

Jonwayne “404 Garbage”

Matches Malone / PIllsbury “It’s Like That”

Tragedy Khadafi “Best Of Both Worlds”

Diverse “Ain’t Right” (DJ Mitsu RMX)

Immortal Technique “Harlem Streets”

Tech N9ne “Who Do I Catch”

Action Bronson “Savage From Sarasota”

Jonwayne “The Come Up”

Skeme Team & Brooklyn Academy “Con Artists”

Serengeti “Directions”

DC The Midi Alien f. Vinnie Paz “Man-Made Ways”

Bonus Omega; overnight golden-era and backpacker hip-hop / rap.

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dame-zoom-a-lot · 2 months ago

Text

RIP Beemer

for @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2 Prompts: Soft and slow, Backseat, Bruise, Clothes on tags: Car Sex, Desecration of Steve's beloved Beemer, Lube, Sweat, Someone vomiting in the background, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington, Monster Eddie Munson, Top Steve Harrington, Blow Jobs, Small Time Musician Eddie Munson, Insecure Eddie Munson, General Human Nastiness, POV Eddie Munson

beta: @stervrucht wordcount: 4k rated E Ao3

“Ripping, tearing, clubbing the world apart—” Eddie steps back from the mic to hand the song back to the crowd.

“Until there’s only us!” The crowd screams back. Eddie shivers and wonders what it would be like if the crowd were bigger, louder, enough for this to be his full-time job. It’d be bliss, he decides, as long as Steve is along for the ride. Eddie finds Steve in the crowd, hopping along, looking biteably awkward in the metal getup Robin bullied him into. Steve rolls his eyes at the “given back wrong” line, so Eddie makes the crowd sing it again, just to fuck with him.

The crowd thinks they’re singing about the myth of Oedipus—one that ends with Oedipus deciding he’s done playing nice. One where he goes back to get Eurydice back by force . Only five people in the crowd know it’s actually about how Steve found Eddie, half-crazed by himself in the Upside-Down. How he waited because Eddie insisted on guarding the portals to hell, coaxed Eddie back into the rhythm of the world of the living after they closed the portals, and convinced him that he’d be able to walk free. That people have better things to worry about than why the formerly suspected murderer is covered in fur and scales now with fingers ending in deadly talons.

Turns out Steve was right. People really don’t look that hard—especially when Eddie’s on-stage with his talons hidden under layers of bandages and silicon so he doesn’t keep cutting his guitar strings. It helps that his fur is skin colored.

The whole band is a disgusting, sweaty mess when he hops off the stage and makes his way to Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Chrissy. Their friends crowd in close for tight hugs and slaps on the back anyway.

“You guys were awesome!” Robin screams, thumping Gareth on the back so hard he nearly topples into Goodie. Jeff gives her a high five.

“Thanks for coming all the way out here,” Jeff says, laughing as he narrowly misses Robin’s hand when she lowers it too quickly. “Hope the drive wasn’t too long?” Jeff asks Chrissy.

“Jeff, you know I’d move to Indy if I could,” Chrissy says, tossing her hair. “The drive was fine . I’m so glad I got to hear you guys play.”

Robin blubbers something in agreement and throws herself at Eddie, sniffling. “I’m so happy you can do this again,” she wails.

Chrissy looks on fondly.

“Jesus Buckley, how much did you have to drink?” Eddie teases as he holds her steady.

“Sorry, I made her some punch to pre-game.” Nancy doesn’t sound sorry at all . She’s standing upright. The only sign that she might be even a little bit drunk is the slight flush on her face. Behind him, Eddie can hear Jonathan gushing to Goodie about the bass riff. Is there a physical limit for joy? Eddie’s about to hit it.

Jonathan, unknowingly, saves Eddie from dying from OD-ing on happiness by forcing the group back closer to the stage. Apparently the next group is some alternative schlop he actually likes. And they’re definitely not bad . They’re honestly pretty good—prime head-bang material. Jonathan knows his shit. And Eddie knows it’s only polite to stick around and support his fellow artists.

But Steve is right here . He’s even trying and failing miserably at the whole headbanging thing. Eddie already has a competence kink thanks to Steve. It looks like the man is going to give him an in competence kink tonight. Maybe he just has a Steve kink and the varying degrees of competence is a red herring.

Steve notices him staring and grins sheepishly. Right . Eddie’s given this band and general politeness his best shot, but he’s only mortal (probably).

“I’m going for a smoke!” Eddie yells to his friends. He ignores Robin’s screeching about the dangers or whatever. He grabs Steve and leads the both of them away, out of the club, into the cool breeze outside.

Outside smells like vomit and too much body spray. Eddie manages to find the least vomit-y spot by a tower of booze-soaked cardboard boxes.

“She’s going to scream bloody murder about second-hand smoke every time I talk to her for at least a week,” Steve says with a fake pout.

“Well, you could tell her we didn’t smoke.”

“Oh, weren’t we smoking? Because that’s what I’m doing.”

“That’s a nat one on that deception check Harrington. You don’t even have a pack.”

“I could steal yours.”

Eddie dramatically empties out his pockets to show he has nothing for Steve to steal before pushing him against the wall of the venue. Their lips meet. Steve melts into the wall, both hands thrown over his head, nudging Eddie to pin him down properly.

Unfortunately, Eddie’s heightened sense of smell gets in the way. Some asshole is puking their guts out on the other side of the building. “Wait, wait, sorry. Time out. I can’t do this here,” Eddie says, pulling off of Steve.

“That’s alright,” Steve says sweetly. Eddie wants to scream. “Want to go back? Jonathan’s going to expect a review from you.”

“Ugh, I can’t listen to anything right now, let alone wax poetics or rant manifestos about it,” Eddie mutters. He remembers something. “You drove here.” He tells Steve.

“I… did drive here. Yes.”

“And there’s a back alley about… ten minutes away that can fit a car.”

“Why do you know this?”

“Sold a guy some coke when we came here to check out the setup.” Eddie ignores the worried frown on Steve’s face. The frown turns into an excited ‘o’ when Steve finally realizes what Eddie’s getting at. Steve nearly sprints towards his car, dragging Eddie along. Eddie jumps into the backseat. It takes Steve three tries to get the key in the ignition.

“You need me to drive this time Big Boy?” Eddie teases, spreading his legs open wide because Steve glares at him through the back mirror.

“Shut up. This is your fault.”

Miraculously, Steve manages to get the car started and into the quiet alley Eddie had found. Steve scrambles over the console to get to Eddie in the backseat as soon as the beemer stops moving.

“Ow!” Steve yelps as he bashes his ankle on something. He collapses into Eddie in a messy, awkward heap.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Eddie chokes out between laughter. “You know you could have just… gotten out of the car and come around to the back right?”

Steve pauses. “Asshole,” he mutters, burrowing into Eddie’s chest.

“That’s gonna leave a bruise at least . You want me to take a look?” Eddie asks, extricating his hand to gently rub Steve’s ass.

“You don’t need an excuse to get my pants off Eddie,” Steve says, as he paws at Eddie’s sweaty shirt.

Eddie snorts. Then he grabs Steve. Steve gasps when Eddie grips his left shoulder and right hip to twist him under Eddie, pinning him, driving him into the leather. Eddie’s still wearing the layers of bandages and silicon over his talons. He won’t be able to feel Steve’s skin under his hands, which is a bummer. The feeling of all of Steve’s little hairs rubbing up and into Eddie’s soft palm is to die for (literally). But the protective layer means that there’s no chance Eddie might accidentally cut into his boyfriend. He can be rough in a bruising sort of way tonight. Steve whimpers, his cheeks pink. Eddie runs a bandaged finger over them. Steve leans into it.

Eddie straddles Steve. He’s about an inch or two away from banging his head on the car roof. Steve’s head is too close to the door for Eddie’s liking. Steve’s already had three concussions hasn’t he? And he really shouldn’t get anymore…

But Steve doesn’t seem to share Eddie’s safety concerns. He impatiently tugs Eddie’s zipper down and grips the waistband of his jeans. “Why are your jeans so tight ?” Steve mutters, “don’t just stare ! Help me get this off !”

“Aww, I’m sorry my liege. Heavy is the legs that wears the trousers.” Eddie quips. He doesn’t even know what he means but Steve seems to like it when Eddie babbles nonsense. He backs away a little to grind hard against Steve’s crotch. Steve moans and arches his back, nearly beaning himself on the door. Eddie hurries to take his jeans off.

Fuck morning Eddie. Steve is right . Why are his jeans so tight? Why did he think that the two of them would keep it in their pants the whole night? Have you met Steve?!

Steve, the cute, annoying bastard, leans back with an arm over his head. He smirks, eyes going up and down, all overEddie as Eddie struggles to free himself from his tight jeans. But the fabric is clamping onto his sweat-soaked fur and refusing to let go. Eddie stands a bit to wiggle his jeans down his thighs. The fabric finally gives. “Ha—ow!” His crow of victory turns into a yelp as he bangs his head on the roof. Steve puts a hand over his mouth and shudders, face turning bright red as he struggles not to laugh.

“Let it out babe. Don’t want you to suffocate, at least not that way.” Eddie leans down to finally kiss Steve. Steve surges into it. They make out messily. Steve keeps kind of huffing into the kiss, giggling into his mouth. This moment feels like it should be a song, or songs. The euphoria of how close they’re forced to be in the tiny backseat. Joy so deep and uncontainable that it keeps leaking out of their mouth into the other, like some fucked up CPR.

Eddie snakes an arm down under Steve to pull him up, then carefully guides Steve to sit on his bare thighs. Steve’s hands sneak in under Eddie’s shirt to roam all over his torso. He’s probably stretching the fuck out of the fabric. Which is, objectively, the correct thing to do. Steve should ruin all his clothes. Eddie makes a valiant effort to return the favor on Steve’s one black t-shirt Robin bullied him into. But it’s made of some super-resilient rich people material. Damn. It’s probably dry-clean only too.

Steve pulls off of Eddie’s mouth and takes a deep breath. He grips Eddie’s face and grinds down hard on Eddie’s bare cock. Steve is still fully clothed. The friction is so deliciously painful that Eddie moans loud enough for the sound to echo around the car. “I want to suck you off,” Steve declares, grinding down into Eddie’s cock, more gently this time.

“ Please ,” Eddie pleads.

Steve shimmies down into the footwell, contorting himself to fit. Eddie used to think that car sex is hugely overrated. Sure, he could see the appeal of the fantasy . Being so hot for each other that you can’t even take the time to find a nice proper bed where you can comfortably take each other apart in nice soft sheets? Sure. Objectively hot.

But Eddie gets it now. The vision of Steve squished into the footwell with so little space that he physically can’t do much more than move his arm and head to suck Eddie off? Priceless . They’ve got to do this again. Maybe as some rogue sex-avenger type that breaks into assholes’ cars. Parked across three spots? Didn’t use your turn signal? Honked at one of their kids for taking the time to look before making a left turn? Hope you like wiping lube and cum off your car seats jackass!

Steve knocks Eddie’s legs apart and tugs him closer by the hip to take his cock in his mouth. Eddie has to clench his thighs hard to prevent himself from cumming at just the manhandling. Steve starts bobbing his head up and down for real, gripping Eddie’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises, and Eddie stops fantasizing about car sex crimes, stops thinking about making sure Steve doesn’t get another concussion (sorry Steve). There’s only the perfect tightness of Steve’s throat as Steve takes him all the way down, the swish of a gentle tongue as it sloppily licks that perfect spot under the head, and the gentle thrum of Steve moaning directly onto the vibration-sensitive scales that grow along the side of Eddie’s dick. Eddie bites into his hand to muffle his sounds. Wouldn’t want to trigger Steve’s migraines or attract curious bible-thumpers.

Too soon, he feels his balls tighten as he’s about to cum. Eddie tries to wiggle out. Steve clutches Eddie’s hips down hard, keeping him pinned. “Sweetheart,” Eddie gasps. “I’m close. Need to pull out or—”

Steve shakes his head and sucks harder , more desperately.

“But, ah,” Eddie can’t stop himself from thrusting up, deeper into Steve’s throat. Steve squeaks and huffs but takes it like a champ, “you said...it’s… squishy…”

Steve shoves some fingers into Eddie’s mouth while still sucking his soul out of his dick. Eddie cums at the weight of Steve’s finger on his tongue, a little salty from a mix of their sweat. Steve milks him just to be a dick until Eddie is whining and writhing in the tiny bit of room he has. Steve finally sets him free with one last extra strong parting suck.

“Dude.” Steve clears his throat. “I said the squishy stuff in your cum was good ! I like the texture!”

Eddie half giggles, half gasps, and attempts to clean off his ass sweat off Steve’s precious beemer.

“Too many words,” Eddie says, grabbing Steve under the armpits to pull him out of the footwell. It takes some maneuvering, but Eddie manages to position them so he’s laying down with Steve draped over him like the world’s hottest security blanket. Steve lazily grinds his clothed crotch on Eddie’s lower belly.

“Your turn?” Eddie asks while lightly tapping out a beat on Steve’s ass.

“Eds. It’s not a transaction.”

“But my love, my heart, vanimelda . You know I shall perish if I don’t see your cum face at least once a day.”

“I do not know that,” Steve says laughing. He flicks Eddie on the nose. “And you survived yesterday.”

“It’s a new ailment! Caught it just today, I’m afraid.”

Steve giggles and strokes Eddie’s face. “Well… if it’s a matter of life or death.”

“It is !”

“In that case, can I fuck you?” Steve asks shyly.

Eddie’s cock makes a valiant attempt to beat its refractory period. Eddie’s always topped with Steve. This night is a flurry of firsts—first show with more than a dozen or so people, first time Steve manhandled him, first time in a car—and the novelty is really doing it for him. But, the boring, responsible part of him remembers how much Steve loves this car, and how messy penetration can get. Can you even get lube out of leather?

“Babe, I’d love that, but maybe not in the car? It’s going to get messy.” Eddie says regretfully.

Steve rolls his eyes. He reaches into the seat pocket and pulls out a bottle of lube. Eddie stares, wide-eyed, as Steve pours a generous heap of lube on his hand and reaches down his pants. Steve pulls the hand out, dripping with lube and pre-cum, and wipes it on the seat.

“ Fuck the car,” Steve whispers into Eddie’s ear. Steve reaches under Eddie’s shirt to wipe off some more of the… mixture on his lone nipple. This is going to suck later, but it feels so good now, slimy and wet, with the nice friction from his shirt. Eddie moans and bucks his hips as Steve continues to play with his last nipple, nuzzling at his neck. He’ll never understand why Steve doesn’t mind all the fur. But then, Steve is the freakiest freak Eddie’s ever met.

Steve’s mouth goes back to Eddie’s ears. “You have no idea what it was like to watch you on stage. You know how many girls were talking about wanting to be your Eurydice? How good she must get fucked?”

“And you don’t want to disappoint my fans Stevie? Baby? Is that why you want to top tonight? Make sure Eurydice gets fucked real good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve babbles. “Wanna open her up, real nice and slow with tongue, then add a finger and another until she’s begging for my cock inside. Then I want to bite your thigh and make you beg some more.”

“That all sounds lovely , but you sure you want to lick around the fuzz down there?” Eddie asks, giggling, “and when does the actual dicking me happen?”

“Eventually,” Steve says with a grin. Then he processes what Eddie said and frowns a little. “Wait, you still think I don’t want my tongue on any part of you?"

“I mean…” Eddie trails off. He doesn’t want to lie to Steve. But he will die if they stop having sex to have a serious talk about Eddie’s many, many insecurities instead. Honestly, even if that conversation didn’t happen instead of sex, he’d probably have to leave the country if he’s forced to talk about his potentially hairy asshole with his wet dream of a boyfriend.

Steve grips Eddie’s wrist hard and brings it to his mouth before Eddie can spiral further. Maintaining eye contact, Steve brings his mouth to Eddie’s wrist and licks a long strip up and down. Then he makes a circle, and a heart, keeping his mouth open, tongue out, spit dripping into the fur of his wrist. Eddie is going to die from brain loss actually—he can feel it leaking out of his ears all over Steve’s apparently not-so-precious beemer.

“I don’t lick you that often because you don’t seem to get much out of it,” Steve says with a shrug. He smacks his lip and purses his jaws, probably to get all the fuzz out of his mouth and down his throat. “Is that clear?” He says, with a playfully mean glint in his eyes.

Eddie nods. Steve isn’t wrong. It’s not really possible for Eddie to feel Steve’s tongue on his skin where he has the skin-colored fuzz covering it. But the sight and sound of Steve licking him…

Steve looks down and bats Eddie’s bobbing cock with a smirk. “Looks like you understand.”

Steve gets off of Eddie’s torso and shimmies down to the other side of the car, dragging Eddie’s jeans down with him and bunching it around his ankles. The jeans work as kind of a reverse spreader bar. Eddie can close his legs but he can’t open them any wider than what the pants would allow.

“You think I can make you cum hard enough for you to rip your jeans apart?” Steve asks with a smirk. Then he pushes Eddie’s leg up so his feet hit the roof of the car to leave his ass exposed.

The sudden, warm shock of Steve’s tongue on his rim is so intense that if Steve didn’t have a vice grip on Eddie’s hip, he would have toppled right off the seat. Eddie braces against the ceiling instead, whining. Steve giggles as he continues to tongue around Eddie’s rim, making little patterns, poking his tongue in and out of Eddie’s hole. Eddie’s pretty sure that one of those patterns was Steve’s name. More lube enters his hole. Eddie jolts at the sudden coldness that turns into soft pleasure as a finger joins Steve’s tongue. The lube drips down Eddie’s ass onto the seat and down to his back. Eddie feels the familiar tightening of his balls.

Then Steve pulls his tongue and fingers away, chin dripping in lube. The sudden loss of sensation and warmth hits like a bucket of ice water.

“What? Why?!” Eddie squawks, glaring at Steve through his legs.

“Felt like it. That’s why.” Steve says. Then there’s a hard bite on the back of his thighs. Eddie moans. Eddie hopes it’ll leave a bruise. Maybe he should try shaving that area, in a little heart shape to highlight the mark.

Eddie groans as Steve gets his mouth back on his rim. It’s even sloppier this time. More lube runs down his ass, onto the seat, down the smooth leather onto the back of his shirt, his hair, everywhere . This is going to be impossible to hide. Eddie nearly cums at the thought of getting caught and Steve pulls off again.

“Steve…”

“Yeah my light?”

“Please, please, will you fuck me? Please?” Eddie whispers.

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you still think I don’t want my mouth on you?”

“No, I believe you now,” Eddie babbles, desperate, “you think I’m the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You found me as this… whatever I am, and the first thought in your pretty head was wishing I could get my talons on your gorgeous pecs. You’d live in me if you could. Cut me up. Chew me into pieces. Put me back together to do it all again. So do that Steve. Now. Please!” Eddie stomps, throwing a little mini tantrum. Except he stomps harder than he’d intended. The car creaks.

Steve laughs hysterically right onto Eddie’s asshole. “Jesus Munson. I get the message.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, mortified. He’s ready to deliver a whole apology speech to Steve’s beemer. But Steve cuts him off by finally, finally getting his dick in Eddie.

Fuck. He’d missed this.

Not that he hates topping. Topping Steve is perfect. Honestly, Eddie’s pretty sure they could solve the energy crisis if they could figure out how to harness the power of Steve’s tight asshole. Anything that brings that much joy has to have some sort of superpowers. But also, Steve’s dick in him, the fullness of it, rubbing against his prostate on every thrust… that’s also got to have superpowers. Eddie hadn’t bottomed since he turned into whatever he is now, mostly because he was too anxious about hygiene. He scrubs religiously, but it’s fur .

And Steve doesn’t care. Steve thinks he’s perfect. Steve saw him split his head open to swallow dozens of Demobats and wanted to ride him because of that.

Steve has him bent nearly in half. His feet are pushed against the window right above his head. Eddie has to clutch his arms out to the side and brace with his all his strength so they don’t both fall off the seat. Steve is fucking into him hard, still mostly clothed. Eddie can feel the bite of Steve’s zippers around his rim every time Steve slams back inside. The car is fogging up. Steve stiffens. He pauses and closes his eyes, nostrils flaring. He takes a deep breath.

Then he snakes his left arm around Eddie’s legs to grip his dick. Steve goes back to slamming into Eddie, maintaining that perfect edge of nearly too hard, hands working furiously over Eddie’s cock. Eddie cums so hard it nearly shoots up into his mouth. Steve orgasms with a full-body shudder almost at the same time. Eddie can feel the jizz dripping out of his hole. Steve gently guides Eddie’s legs back down.

“Was that good?” Steve asks, panting, gently massaging Eddie’s calves.

“Oh you know, just, mind-blowing, life-changing, so good I think it should create some sort of a life debt, so, the usual,” Eddie replies.

Steve blushes and looks away, still rubbing the blood back into Eddie’s feet.

“For you?” Eddie asks, hoping that Steve won’t notice the hint of anxiety.

“I think…” Steve pauses. “Shit, sorry. I’m not as good as you are with words.”

Eddie would beg to differ, but he’s all begged out for the night.

“I think… we should go on a road trip. That’s how good it was.” Steve finally says.

“Will this poor girl survive that trip?”

“I don’t even know if she’s going to survive this ,” Steve says ruefully. He pats the car seat. “Sorry old girl.”

Eddie shifts a little, starting to feel the discomfort of the various liquids on his body start to dry on his fur, making them clump in weird ways. Steve gently pulls Eddie into his arms. Both of them ignore the feeling of Eddie’s wetness seeping onto Steve’s laps. Steve draws little patterns along his back: hearts, their initials, something that might be a guitar, while humming one of their sex songs into Eddie’s neck. Eddie snuggles deeper into Steve with a contented sigh. He can’t imagine a more perfect end to this night.

#steddie smutty september #steddie fanfic

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deanwinchesterswitch · 2 years ago

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Dirty Sweet

Dean's girl is a handful and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Word Count: 594

A naughty little ficlet for @impala-dreamer

NSFW-18+ Inspired by the song Bang a Gong (Get It On) by T-Rex - (Link goes to Spotify.) Reviewed and approved by: @princessmisery666.

Wild and untamed, a vision clad in black, hand pressed against the top of the jukebox, back arched, a single knee bent, body moving in sync with the rhythm of the song currently playing. The neon lights above the machine create a vibrant blue halo around her profile.

She searches the titles she knows by heart, like this time, she’ll find something new. The records in the old Wurlitzer haven’t been changed since Jerry bought it in the mid-seventies—a fact he shares proudly and often. It wouldn’t matter if he added new tunes. I know exactly which song she’ll pick. It’s always the same when she’s in the mood to play and wants to put on a show for me. Tease me and any other patrons in the bar that may be paying attention.

It works every fucking time.

Each time she finally makes her way back to me, I’m so hard for her that I want to leave immediately. Fuck her fast and rough on Baby’s hood for all to see, then take her slow and tender in the back seat. She never lets me, though. Makes me wait. Riles me up even more with heated touches and nasty thoughts whispered in my ear until I’m ready to cream in my jeans. She always knows when I’ve reached my breaking point, pulling me into the bathroom or alley, laughing as she palms me before dropping to her knees to suck me off like a dirty little whore.

Surprisingly, we haven’t been arrested for indecent exposure or lewd conduct yet, but I don’t suppose that anyone that’s seen us get it on objects to the free exhibition. And if my girl doesn’t mind showing off her talents, then who am I to put a kibosh on the fun?

Leaning forward, she presses the yellowed plastic buttons with slow, deliberate precision. Beautiful round ass barely covered by her short skirt, free from the confines of a bra, her tits look like they’re ready to spill over the top of her tank.

Fuck.

I attempt to adjust myself discreetly, eyes wandering around the room to find a couple of the regulars openly eyeing her and shifting in their seats, comrades. My eyes land back on her, traveling up the bare expanse of her legs. Thinking of the sweet nirvana nestled between them, awaiting my attention, has me reaching for my beer to wet the sudden dryness of my mouth.

The corner of her lush lips lift as if she heard my silent moan over the din of small talk, billiard balls clacking, and beer bottles thudding against sticky wooden table tops. Sharp teeth catch and graze over supple pink flesh as her head tilts in my direction.

As the first slinky bass line chords of the song seep into the stale, dusty air, she straightens. Her wicked smile and carnal stare pin me to the barstool from across the room, making my dick strain against its denim confinement. She raises her hands above her head, snapping her fingers as she sings along—voice powerful and sultry as she exaggerates the sway of her hips with the beat. The bare skin peeking below the hem of her top glistens as the muscles beneath ripple with each gyration.

The background noises fade, and I don’t know if it’s because everyone has stopped to watch or if I’m the only one entranced by the sensual dance that carries her toward me. Either way, I don’t care.

The only thing that matters is that she’s dirty, sweet, and she’s my girl.

Love Me Some Pie

@123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-baby-momma // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @iprobablyshipit91 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @michellethetvaddict // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @mvdeanw // @princessmisery666 // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

#dw's witch writes #ficlet #dean winchester x fem!reader #dirty sweet #041423

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wunjotheork · 2 months ago

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Summer Night

Characters: Stag & Dagmar - Words: ~500

The windows are open. It’s a last attempt to get the studio under the roof cooler. But with the rain pouring down, the shutters have to be closed.

If there's any fresh air outside, it's barely getting in.

Lying on the mattress on the floor, Thaler has given up on sleep. The heat inside is just unbearable. He could be watching a night show to pass time, revising, or better yet, taking a cold shower but…

The elf beside him sleeps.

Lucky girl.

She crashed at his place when the sun went down. Helped him finish the remaining leftovers he had. Didn't ask of course.

She never does.

‘What's yours is mine’ kind of girl.

He glances at her and his gaze lingers on the chrome decorating her back, then the hollow between her neck and shoulder. He licks his lips without even realising.

Maybe he could wake her up with a kiss there. They are both naked already. It would be more interesting than waiting for the sun to rise.

But it’s too damn hot for any of that.

With a sigh, he peels his eyes off her and goes back at staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling.

Until he notices a strange sound.

Untz-untz-untz-untz...

Something far away, probably carried by the wind. It takes him a moment before he recognises the characteristic rhythm of electronic music. Heavy bass that would make him stomp the ground.

Must be midnight.

The hour when nightclubs open their doors. And when troubles begin.

He frowns. He'd rather be out there than sweating in the dark. So he closes his eyes. Focuses on the music. Trying to guess if it’s from his side of the river.

And holds back a laugh when he recalls his last time at a club.

He immediately stills when the elf next to him shifts and mumbles something.

An insult, probably.

He glances at his friend's back again. Unlike him, the heat doesn't bother her. Falling asleep wasn't a problem. Never is. But she is a light sleeper.

Outside, the rain eases a little.

The music seems louder.

Untz-untz-untz-untz…

— Hey, Gaby, he whispers. You asleep?

He hears her take a deep breath through her nose. Then sigh loudly.

— Yes, Stag. I was.

Ah.

— Sorry.

Dumbass. Should have stayed quiet.

She yawns and stretches. Then turns onto her back, rubbing her eyes. He closes his, expects a nasty comment and flinches when her hand falls back on the mattress next to his head. But nothing. He takes a peek and sees her staring at the ceiling.

Listening to the music.

Then she turns her head to him. So close he can see the brand of her optics.

— You up for some dancing?

Twenty minutes later, they are running in the rain, laughing and screaming. The water is ice cold, but not unpleasant after the last scorching days.

With a bit of luck, they'll catch the last night bus that will take them to the quays.

To the club and its bass that can be heard from afar.

#repost because I realise I had deleted it earlier this year #but I still like it so here it is #wunjowrite #oc:stag #oc:thedagger

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sookiesookie · 2 years ago

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♪ riri williams music taste headcannons ♪

a/n: a lil sumn silly while I finish these two ffs in my drafts

key:

riri dialogue

shuri dialogue

reader dialogue

♪ listens to songs she can get high to (or feel high to, she mostly gets high socially rather than alone)

♫ on some cloud nine type things, Don Toliver, Travis Scott, A$AP Rocky, Childish Gambino, Kid Cudi

♫ but not limited to psychedelic indie or rock like Mac Demarco, Jimi Hendrix, TV Girl, Yves Tumor, Tame Impala, Men I Trust, that one Lil Yatchy album counts too ig lmao

♪ stem!riri? yeah she’s def on that Canadian Nigga Trio HEAVY (Drake, PND, The Weeknd)

♫ toxic stem!riri? Brent & Bryson in rotation

♪ gang gang w/ some Pierre Bourne, Lucki, Ken Carson, Young Nudy

♪ Smino and Baby Keem on lock

♪ she likes a lot of pluggnb/trap, especially the girls

♪ Bktherula her baby frrr

♪ she DID have an XXXTENTACION phase for about 2 years in middle school

♪ a huge rnb girlie ofc, with your SZA, Summer Walker, Jhené Aiko, Victoria Monet, Tinashe, Teyana Taylor, Ari Lennox things naturally

♪ HEAVY ON KEHLANI

♫ probably her top artist

♫ like she’ll kick your ass if you dare skip a song by her TOP ARTIST

♪ she hates Justin Timberlake because of Janet Jackson but she can’t deny his first two albums being in rotation

♫ she still rides for Janet Jackson OF COURSE though, that’s her queen

♪ definitely some 90s and 00s rnb, rap, and neo soul

♫ definitely some 90s and 00s rnb, rap, and neo soul when she’s up in it-

♪ speaking of neo, she’s on Neyo HEAVY

♪ goes hard for the rap girlies, Flo Milli, Ice Spice, Bree Runway, Rico Nasty, Monaleo, Megan The Stallion

♬ “DOECHIIIIIIIIII!”

♫ if there’s one thing about riri, it’s Doechii

♫ Spooky Coochie>>>

♪ COLE WORLD, a middle school favorite

♬ “Now put a finger in the sky if you want it nigga!”

♪ definitely on her Kendrick things too

♪ spotify user to the fullest

♪ fuck Sony headphones, she made her own lil’ bluetooth noise canceling headset with good bass to not only make sure she can listen to music but FEEL that shii

♪ also she didn’t feel like paying $300+ for that so…

♪ she can’t ever listen to an album on shuffle, she feels it ruins the “cinematic experience”

♬ “I know you did NOT just skip that shit.”

♬ “Riri, it was literally an interlude.”

♬ “I said turn that shit back!”

♪ she’ll backhand slap you if you dare try it with a Weeknd album, that’s just an unspoken rule for her never to skip a Weeknd song in an album (a/n I may be projecting w/ this one lmao)

♪ is an avid playlist maker and has playlists for every single mood and activity

♬ “Tryna smoke? Lemme pull up this playlist i got-”

♬ “You goin’ to the store? Wait, lemme hook up my driving playlist-”

♬ “You having trouble studying? Hol’ on- I got this good playlist I use for when I'm doing my math homework!”

♬ “Okayyyy some chill rnb so far, Sade, Erykah Badu, D’Angelo, Alicia Keys… Rico Nasty, Bktherula, Destroy Lonely, Carti???

♬ “What? I tend to get pissed off about an hour in! Especially if it’s word problems!”

♪ she listens to both, but she keeps the “Cochise >>> Carti” opinion to herself

♪ Frank Ocean makes her tear up for no reason so she barely listens to him unless she’s in the mood to cry

♪ she was a Nicki fan… she still IS one, who you frontin’ on?

♬ “R-R-R-Roman!”

♪ honestly, she was on everybody part of Young Money, Bedrock was a moment in time

♪ she was definitely an Ariana Grande fan in middle school tho, don’t play with her

♫ she still gon’ blast her My Everything and Yours Truly albums in her garage, don’t get it twisted

♪ she was a 1D fan in elementary school but she’ll forever deny it happened

♫ she’ll blast Big Time Rush like a bitch though (Boyfriend is a hood classic)

♪ MINDLESS BEHAVIOR RIDER

♪ she still has their CDs stowed away in her garage somewhere

♪ (cannon) anime watcher on her jpop/jrock shii

♫ and we can’t forget the OSTs in her playlist

♫ Ouran High School host club outro>>>

♪ Lamp listener, definitely a comfort artist for her

♪ she fucks w/ Shuri’s kpop (cannon) stuff too though she’s not a fan

♫ she’ll shake ass to Kick It by NCT on the low, though

♪ she’s on plugging/trap so you know she definitely on her hyper pop shit too

♪ her top 10 artists: Kehlani, Lamp, J. Cole, Bktherula, Janet Jackson, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Mac Demarco, Victoria Monet, Doechii, Rico Nasty

a riri mix for realism:

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389 · 1 year ago

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Varial - Empty Club / Eurorack Jungle Techno Breakcore Drum and Bass

Back again with another live jam on the modular rig and 1010 blackbox making some nasty jungle! This time you get a close up of how I am mixing everything by hand as it goes into the audio interface which makes for quick editing later. As usual I am using the lower modular case for drums, the upper case as a four voice melodic groove box, and the 1010 blackbox for a pad, soundfx, and vocal samples. I've been enjoying the new song mode on the blackbox, makes it easy to make big changes with one button press and have it keep looping until you press another scene. I'm going to be working more on my liveset and mixing these tracks I've made so I won't have as many singe track videos but lots more videos planned with live set practice and rig breakdowns to come.

#varial #eurorack #jungle #techno #breakcore #dnb #drum and bass #modular #rig #blackbox #1010 blackbox #soundfx #liveset #live #live set #electronic #music #video #electronic music #u

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dirtysvthoughts · 1 year ago

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𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER FOUR

pairing: rapper! seungcheol x stripper! reader

word count: 3.2k (longest for this series so far!)

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, dom! seungcheol, deep voice cheol, dirty talk, giving cheol head, reader gets partially nude, mentions of d*ugs, pet names, grinding on the d w/o a condom (please protect yourselves tho, always), seungcheol’s fave body part on you is your ass (he is an ass man, i’m not fighting people on this, it’s a fact)

notes: after about a nearly two month break we’re back! sorry y’all i know the momentum has kinda died out a bit, but between coming back to the states after a month long trip and returning to my normal routines and going back to work and some family stuff, it was hard to find the energy to write. but we’re back nonetheless! thank you for sticking by if you’re still here!

playlist songs: money showers - fat joe, remy ma, ty dolla sign, hey daddy (daddy’s home) - usher, another nasty song - latto

taglist: @im-gemmy @enhacolor @hooniewnderland @svtup @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol @marsstarxhwa @haoxiaoba (if your user is crossed out that means i cant tag you)

the smell of weed is strong enough to take over the small studio space, it slightly crowded with the amount of people in the room. a few producers sit in their chairs, altering the sound board controls every and now and then, a heavy bass booming through the system.

behind the door and in the booth is seungcheol, or s.coups (his stage name), spitting fire into the mic as he records the final tracks for an upcoming, anticipated mixtape. he had a pretty decent following after posting some songs on soundcloud for the fun of it, and it continued to grow when he released his first mixtape a few months ago. now pretty much everyone knew his name and it wouldn’t be long before he caught the attention of a mainstream, viral artist.

as he says his last words, the volume goes down and a voice fills the booth, “yeah man, that was great as fuck!” seungcheol smiles as he puts up his headphones and exits the room, dapping up all the producers to thank them for their hard work.

“this mixtape is gonna be so fire, cheol, you’re really out there now!”

“yeah, soon you’re not even gonna need us anymore, working with all those big time producers,” someone chimes in and seungcheol immediately frowns.

“hey man, don’t even say that. you guys were the first people to give me a chance, i’m never gonna forget my brothers,” he nudges them in their shoulder, and they respond by rolling their eyes.

“well that was the last track we had to do for today, what are you guys’s plans for tonight?” someone asks, but before he can even answer, seungcheol hears his phone ring with a text message alert.

princess: hey cheollie, just making sure you’re still on for tonight at illusion! i have a vip room ready and waiting just for you baby ❤️

he can’t help it, but his dick twitches at the last sentence you typed out. he was intoxicated just by the thought of you.

seungcheol has been one of your few regulars ever since he showed up to the club one night two years ago, celebrating the release of his first mixtape. the night in it of itself was a movie, expensive bottles everywhere, music blasting, and girls half-naked dancing on the tables and couches. cheol’s section was upstairs and it was where the party was really at. word got around quickly through the dressing room that cheol was there, and most of the dancers were hanging out with him and his entourage, trying to be the one girl to get him all to themselves. who wouldn’t want him all his glory to be honest?

you however, not exactly enticed by the rowdiness, took your spot at one of the available poles on the main floor. “just another one of those wannabe rappers,” you thought. not too far from his section, you went into one of your routines once a new song started playing. while spinning and inverting, enjoying the high the pole gave you, you didn’t even notice that seungcheol’s attention somehow made its way towards you.

to say the least, he was astounded. not only were you gorgeous in every way possible, you danced like you were on air, as if gravity meant nothing to you. as one of the bottle girls walked through to deliver another round of shots, she calls out to him, waking up from his trance when one of his friends shakes his shoulder.

“coups, are we getting more shots or what? stop daydreaming, it’s way too lit in here for that,” he grabs the ass of the dancer that was currently grinding onto him, matching his body to her energy to mimic riding her.

“y-yeah, sorry, we’ll have more shots,” seungcheol stutters as the server puts down the tray. before she can leave though, he taps her hand.

“do you know all of the dancers here?”

“yeah..” she responds in a slightly confused tone. “why are you asking?”

cheol then points to you, thanking the gods that you didn’t disappear from his line of sight. cash now lined your pole’s platform as your hips rolled to the beat, and then dropped down into a surprise split, patrons tossing even more bills at you.

“who’s she? she’s so fucking sexy,” he sighs sweetly, wanting to leave the table and everyone else just to have even a moment with you.

“oh, that’s sage - she’s one of our main dancers. if you wanna see her dance for you though, you better ask fast. there’s a reason why she’s so popular,” she says as she walks away carrying the empty tray under her arms.

without a second thought, he gets up from the table and goes down the stairs, his friends groaning in disappointment that seungcheol was leaving them. “this is all for you and you’re leaving the fun?” someone calls out behind him.

“i’ll be back in a bit!” he waved his hand, motioning to shoo them away. “there’s something i wanna do first.” with his friends out of the way, now he could focus on what he really wanted - you.

little did the both of you know that you would meeting sooner than you thought. you needed to make your way to the dressing room to grab something, but you got so caught up in your drive that you didn’t even notice another body heading directly towards you. you and cheol then accidentally bump into each other, and luckily you’re able to regain your balance in your heels just in time.

“whoa, i’m so sorry, i didn’t see you ther-” seungcheol freezes mid-sentence when he realizes it was you he bumped into. “holy shit,” he thought to himself. you looked gorgeous from afar, but right in front of him? it was taking everything in him not to have his hard-on show.

“no, it was my bad, i wasn’t paying attention,” you respond, your voice flowing sweet like honey to him. you try to continue walking but cheol reaches out and grabs your hand. you look at him funny as he doesn’t say anything at first.

“is there something else you need?” you ask, a bit confused, wanting to hurry up and go to the dressing room.

“yeah, you,” he thinks to himself again, trying to keep his eyes on yours and not at how your boobs were almost spilling out of your olive green two-piece.

he gathers his thoughts and takes a mental sigh. “there is actually,” he smirks as he pulls you closer to his body, his hands on your waist. he whispers in your ear and it sends shivers down your spine and your core.

“lemme take you to a room, princess. i saw you dancing over there and i wanna have you all to myself.” you bit your lip hard at the proposal. while he may have awkwardly grabbed your hand and you questioned his actions for a second, you could see why practically everyone was trying to be in his section. he’s handsome as fuck, his dark hair slightly hanging over his eyes, and his black shirt and jeans defining his built body. and to top it off, he had a voice that melted you like chocolate fondue.

“how will i know that it’ll be worth it? you’re clearly not the first guy i’ve taken to a room and you definitely won’t be the last. how will you make it worth my while?” you tease him, twirling your hair in between your fingers.

he chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. “why tell you and waste time when we can just get to it now, princess?”

yup, just your style.

“wait by the bar for me?” you wink at him as you go to the dressing room, purposefully walking slower to make sure got a full view of back of your body, admiring how good your ass looked even from afar.

he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he walked to the bar, in awe at the fact that he was so damn lucky today. a successful mixtape release, a great party, and now the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on was about to be in his sole presence. nothing could get better than this.

or so he thought, because later than night. things definitely got way better when you finally took him to a vip room. after you danced for him on the pole, it lead to one of the hottest lap dances you’ve ever given, which subsequently lead to seungcheol taking you down on the couch, having you scream and moan his name until you came not once, not twice, but three times in the span you two were together.

ever since then, seungcheol came to see you nearly every single week, providing you with stacks of cash, phenomenal sex, a good conversation, and sometimes even all three. you also quickly realized that cheol definitely was not one of those “wannabe soundcloud rappers.” he had the talent, charisma, and passion for the industry, and you hoped that someone would recognize him for his gifts very soon.

going back to the present, cheol speaks up getting the attention of his audience. “well sage is working tonight, and today’s the usual day i go see her, so if anyone wants to hit up club illusion with me, we’ll roll right now,” he looks down at his silver audemars piguet watch, the hands pointing very close to the 10. a few people agree to go with him, others saying that they weren’t in the mood for a strip club or they had other places to be at.

cheollie: i’ll be there soon, i just wrapped up another studio session. can’t wait to see you princess, been on my mind all day

after getting some food and chilling out, the group finally makes its way to the club, the line pretty much nonexistent at this time for a thursday night. he and his crew stick together, some of the dancers approaching them.

“hey coups,” one of the girls flirts with him, biting her lip. another dancer next to her waves her hand, flipping her hair back to show off her decorated neck, inviting seungcheol to come touch her. he nods and smiles at the both of them, but he was only interested in just one person.

“coups!” you call out for him, spotting him from a distance. you walk down from the platform - your lemon-colored sequin bikini set tracing every beautiful curve on your body, the yellow heels you wore matching perfectly. as you walk down to meet him, you can’t help but admire how sexy he looks. his blonde hair, his white shirt encapsulating his muscles, his expensive sunglasses on his forehead. seungcheol quickly embraces you when you take your last step off the stairs, hands on your waist and both your lips locking immediately. it quickly escalates, moaning into his mouth when you feel his tongue roaming yours.

his friends groan behind of him when they see how intimate you two become, seungcheol’s hands starting to palm your ass. he turns his head, chuckling at their reactions, “like what you see?” he winks at them and goes back to kissing you, hands now moving their way across your chest.

they mumble to each other and leave the two of you alone, making their way to the main floor to find a table. once you know they’re out of sight, you grab his chin, causing seungcheol to stop and look at you. “finally,” you sigh happily, kissing the inside of his neck. “i’ve been waiting for you baby.”

he caresses your cheek, “didn’t you say you had a room for me too? c’mon princess, let’s go somewhere a lot less crowded.” you take his hand and lead him to the hall of private rooms downstairs, opening the second to last one, revealing a soft, golden lit room - the furniture basked in a champagne hue, and the stage decorated in a chrome, slick black.

“welcome to the champagne room, seungcheol!” you exclaim walking him in, cheol making sure the door was closed behind you. he whistles in amazement - the two of you have been in a share of private rooms in illusion, but this is the first time he’s been in a room as decorated as this.

“a change of pace i see,” he says walking towards the center chair, taking a seat on the cushions. “why the new setting princess?” he asks, running his hand behind his hair, unintentionally making you clench with how his muscles flexed.

you sultrily saunter toward him, making sure he could see all of you, making him crave for more of you. without another word, you gingerly sit on his lap, lacing your arm around his neck. “i actually wanna try something new with you, cheol,” you sheepishly smile, looking down at his chest, fingers starting to play with the necklace he was wearing.

“we’ve done so many things in these four walls, but the one thing i haven’t done yet is give you head in the private rooms.. which is crazy now that i’ve think about it,” you let out a small laugh, mind wandering to all of the dirty things you two have done, from cheol fucking you against the wall, handcuffed to nearly having a threesome. but one of the simplest things you could’ve ever done with cheol - neither of you had acted upon it yet.

“whaddaya say? can i go down on you seungcheol?” you whisper the last few words in his ear, and he groans as he reaches for his pants and his belt, loosening it up without hesitation.

“i’m all yours baby,” he tilts your chin up to look at you. “get this dick wet like only you can.”

——

is this the first time you’ve given head at a strip club? of course not, but it’s never felt as good as tonight. you’ve seen and felt seungcheol’s dick several times, knowing he was big. but you still weren’t prepared for the feeling of bliss having him deep inside your throat.

“that’s it baby, take some more in,” he guides your head, bobbing it up and down his length, making sure your pacing wasn’t going too fast. he wanted to savor you for as long as he could.

the tip of his dick was hitting the back of your throat, and it felt so good that you felt tears might prick your eyes. you moan around him, taking it a bit faster, and he groans loudly, head tilting backward, hands roaming your hair.

“fuck.. baby, keep taking me… mmm, just like that,” he breathlessly smiles at you and you feel you immediately clench, your panties getting even wetter. you speed up your pace for the final time, and not even a minute later, he cums into your mouth, and you don’t hesitate to swallow everything he gives you.

you lick your lips and open your mouth to let him know you’ve finished, and he kisses you again, your tongue fighting for dominance as you stand up and sit in his lap. he undoes your bra as it falls onto his lap and you begin to feel his length on your panty covered crotch.

“mmm, you just can’t enough of me, can’t you cheol?” you giggle, maneuvering your fingers to pull your panties to the side. “got you so rock hard that the only thing you can think of is me, huh? you’re so down bad,” you fully sink down on him and you both moan out loud, adoring the way how both of you feel on each other.

he grabs a handful of your ass and starts groping at the skin, to which you respond by grinding down on cheol, tits slowly beginning to bounce as you established a rhythm.

“okay, so i am down bad, but what about you princess? i bet your panties got wet the second you laid eyes on me tonight,” he says planting a smack on your ass, not too hard, but definitely not soft either. “but then again, when do you not get wet when you’re around me? always so needy for me, my baby. but you’re so patient and so ready,” he begins to kiss down your chest, reaching your breasts.

“fuck- don’t stop talking, please keep going!” you moan again as you both start to speed up the pace. “i-i don’t think i’ve told you this but, i love your voice, cheol.. it melts me like butter, ah!” you exclaim as he envelops one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing his head in further so he could take more of you.

at this point, you were now fully bouncing in his lap, his hands bringing you in closer, making sure you both were body to body, as close as you could be.

“feels so good my princess, fuck yeah, keep bouncing on me like that. doing such a good job for me, pretty girl,” he can’t help but revel in your glow, the faces you’re making, and how you're riding him - he knew you weren’t too far off, and he was getting close too.

as you keep grinding down on him the coil in your belly continues to tighten, and when you finally feel it break, you can’t even give seungcheol so much as a warning when you come all over the lower half of his body.

“holy shit,” you breathe out, trying to compose yourself after the amazing orgasm you just experienced. “cheol, holy shit, you’re amazing,” you chuckle at him and smiles back at you, giving you little pecks around your face.

“nah, that’s all you, princess, no one can do me the way you do.” he stares at you lovingly and you try not to let the blush creep up your face.

——

after a few minutes go by, you both begin to put your clothes back on and you across the room for your bra top. as you bend over to get it, cheol whistles, mentally groaning at how full and pretty your ass looks from far.

“damn princess, have you been working out?” he asks coming closer, giving another smack to your cheek one more time, then putting a few bills in between the strings. you put on your bra, making sure it was decently tight.

“a little bit… you like?”

“like? more so love,” he grabs you by the waist, back flush against his body. his hands stay there, going up and down to every inch of skin. you start to sway your hips, seeing if you could get him hard again.

“ah ah,” he whispers in your ear, licking your earlobe. “don’t start anything you cant finish, sweetheart.”

“i could say the same for you, cheol,” you snake your hands up to caress his face. “but don’t you love that about me baby? when i get started, it’ll be an experience you’ll never ever forget.”

and he’ll admit it - you were right. you are addicting, irresistible, a flame that continues to burn in his heart - his forever pole princess.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagine #seungcheol scenarios #scoups scenarios #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #dsvtt: private dancer #dsvtt: kenny’s works

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