#groupie Au

[stillgoingsteddie]

Being a groupie for Corroded Coffin and you get their logo as a tramp stamp

[sourlove]

YANDERE ROCKSTAR 🎸 INTRO FIC (200 Follower Special!)

TW: HE GETS YANDERE LATER ON. NOTHING REALLY IN THIS ONE, CARRY ON

THANKS SO MUCH FOR 200+ FOLLOWERS! ENJOY!

(FEMALE GROUPIE READER)

Smoke billowed from Axel's parted lips as he ran a hand down his face. The club was hazy and jampacked with drunk people grinding on each other. It would have been too much if he had been a part of the sweaty throng, but Axel had the luxury of watching them from the balcony of the VIP section.

He sighed and took another drag of his cigarette, dropping his head back against the seat. He shouldn't have come here.

"Axe! My man!" An arm slung over Axel's shoulder and he was greeted with the unwelcome face of the Jailbird drummer, Max. The man grinned at the distaste on Axel's face. "Jeez, man, you've been so uptight lately. Should I get some girls?"

"Get off me," Axel grumbled. He couldn't even be bothered to shake him off. "You know why I'm fucking stressed."

Max hummed in understanding and handed him a bottle of beer. For the past few days, Axel couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Jailbird's new album was supposed to come out in a few months and for the life of, him, he couldn't stop mulling over the title track. It was the most important song in the album, one that should be guaranteed to make headlines. One that he hadn't written yet.

"Would you look at that?" Max mumbled, causing Axel to glance towards the entrance of the VIP lounge. The bass guitarist, Eli and the pianist, Maryanne, came in laughing. But they weren't alone. They were followed by a gaggle of girls, all awe-struck and giggling at whatever story Elijah was telling. Max immediately gravitated towards the group, followed by the other guitarist Riley.

Axel stayed seated and sipped his drink, ignoring them when Max tried to pull him into the conversation. He didn't have time for this. Normally, he would be working his charm on some poor girl, using her to blow of some steam and slip away once he was done.

But there was an itch he couldn't scratch tonight. One that had him snapping at the only girl who dared to try her luck with the lead singer and guitarist of the band. Everyone steered clear after that. He needed some kind of inspiration for the fucking song and nothing in this club was helping.

Axel was nearly done with his third cigarette when his eyes drifted and suddenly met yours. E/C eyes widened and immediately darted away. He would have thought nothing of it if you didn't glance back after a few seconds, looking embarrassed when you made eye contact once again. He smirked and took you in for the first time that night. Now there was a surprise. There was something striking to you. You were dressed the same as the other girls and seemed starstruck by everything, just like them, but there was a freshness to you that intrigued Axel.

Before he could register his thoughts, he beckoned you over. You blinked and looked around. He shook his head and pointed directly at you, grinning. You stood up shakily and walked to him, looking like a newborn fawn in your precariously high heels.

"H-hi," you said, standing next to the couch.

"Hi. Come sit." Axel made room for you, just enough that your thighs still touched. You twisted your hands nervously as he drank in the sight of you.

"Um, i-it's nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan."

"You like Jailbird?" he asked. "What's your favorite song, then?"

You jumped when his hand played with the collar of your blouse. It was cute, like you. A bit revealing, Axel noted, as his eyes drifted over your cleavage, but nice. Simple.

"Oh no. I mean the band is awesome, but I'm really just a fan of you." You ducked your head shyly. "I like 'Starlight'."

He laughed loudly, surprised. "You know Starlight? Fuck, that's an old song. I don't believe you."

'Starlight' was one of the few songs he performed alone, when Jailbird was just a dream that only he and Max believed in. Axel only ever sang it once, at a random talent show and he didn't even place on the board. It had been a blight in his career, one he buried with new albums and songs that topped the charts. So he was genuinely surprised to see you reach into your bag and unfold a creased flyer for the talent show, dated years ago. On the back, was his old signature, a rough scrawl that he hated but remembered.

"Shit." Axel squinted at the paper, suddenly sober. "You-you really were there..."

"I don't think you would remember me," you babbled on, oblivious to his internal thoughts. "I wanted to ask for a picture, but you didn't look so good, which I understand because you were robbed! I-I mean, you obviously deserved first place, Starlight was-is amazing!"

Axel didn't like to be reminded of the time when he was nobody, when nothing he ever wrote was good enough, especially not Starlight. It was his first song, his favorite song, until all he got for it was scattered applause and a participation slip. The band was formed and Axel had a new sound, a new meaning to his songs. Starlight did not cut it anymore.

And now, here you were, digging up his dirty past, holding it to his face. And showing him how much you loved it. It was humbling. Axel didn't like to be humbled. But he liked you. He liked you very, very much.

"Ever had a shotgun kiss?" He asked, interrupting your rant. You blinked again and shook your head.

"Oh no, I don't smoke, sorry."

"You could start," Axel said, holding his cigarette up. He took a long drag and grabbed you face, squishing your cheeks to part your lips. He smirked when your breath hitched as your mouths met and chuckled when you coughed, pulling away from him. "Not bad, starlight. Just needs some practice." He held out his bottle and you took a tentative sip, smiling shyly. Cute.

"You're much nicer than you look," you commented. Only to immediately backtrack. "N-not that you look mean or anything! It just seems like you prefer being alone..."

Axel hummed, lighting another stick. He held it up to you and stared at you with an eyebrow raised. You grimaced but wrapped your lips around it anyway. When you stopped coughing, he said, "You should listen to your instincts. I'm not so nice, starlight."

He watched you fiddle with the hem of your skirt for a moment, before glancing up at him through your lashes. "Well...what if I don't want to listen to them?"

Suddenly, Axel wanted nothing more than to leave the club with you on his arm. He grinned and stood up, offering his hand to you. "Oi, Max! I'm heading back so don't wait up!"

You blushed as your friends cheered, and Max gave Axel a thumbs up. "Where are we going?" Were you really that clueless? Axel would have a lot of fun ruining that innocence.

"Just you wait, starlight," he purred into your ear, nipping at the soft shell as you shivered. "I'm going to change your life."

Hours later, in his hotel suite, as his sweat cooled and his heartbeat slowed, Axel's mind buzzed with ideas. The inspiration he had been desperately searching for rushed to him as you nuzzled into his neck, sleepily.

"What did you say your name was again, starlight?"

"Hmmm? Y/N."

"Fuck that's a pretty name," he breathed.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N...it looked like he had a title for the song. All he had to do was start writing down and tweaking the lyrics. But that would have to come later. Axel pulled you closer and drifted to the first peaceful rest he'd had in weeks, with your name still on his tongue.

Y/N...

READ PART 2 HERE

FIND MY MASTERPOST AND ALL OTHER LINKS HERE

A/N: Hope you guys love Axel as much as you love Lucas! If you enjoyed, leave a like, comment and reblog. Or drop and ask for anything you had in mind. Loves ya xxx

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage Show Pt.5

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

rating. m

word count. 3.6k

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

or

hobie gets jealous and fucks you

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

Backstage Show pt.4

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

But Hobie could not be sure of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then his voice manifested behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It truly didn’t mean anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s for me to decide.”

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

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

“Go fuck yourself, Hobie.” 

[steviesbicrisis]

The drama is cleared, the gay ending we all deserve is here.

Corroded Flowers (19/20) - AO3 Prev | Next

And so, this is it. There are a million things I'd like to say but I want to leave them for the epilogue. I wanna thank every single person who has been supporting me through this au, if I got until this point is all thanks to you <3

As for the epilogue, it will be a Q&A to show some stuff I wasn't able to include until now! so if you have any questions you'd like to ask to the fruity four, stuff I've left out, things you're curious about etc. please let me know and I'll do my best to include it!

----

Taglist: @legallymarriedtorobinbuckley @loserwithagodcomplex @unclewaynemunson @bookfrog242 @goawayrvse @whimsicalwitchm @lightwoodbanethings @nelotegreitic @kerlypride @munsonmanor @brassreign @e-dollly @yes-im-your-mom @howincrediblysapphicofyou @courtjestermunson @nancewheelerwife @injectingelation @goingsteddi3 @a-little-unsteddie @undreamingscatworld @crykea @stevesbipanic @narcissist-era @hagbaby420 @feministfandomgeek @scarletzgo @whydamnitwhy

@momotonescreaming @granola-dot-jpeg @maya-custodios-dionach @moonythepluviophile @thegingerrapunzel @jeannemat @thereindeerlady @ramyayaya @lettherebelovex @paperbackribs @zerokrox-blog @hammity-hammer @livie1507 @youmakemyhearthowl @bejeweledbaby @pandichsatounet @phantypurple @raisedbylibrarians @starcrash-ash @csinnamon-fox @maglorslostsilmaril @isaendo @the-witch-forever-lives

[oneforthemunny]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please," You whined out, core throbbing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hlxtn]

[ddejavvu]

musician au where reader is the musician and eddie is a lil groupie 🥰

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this is also modern!eddie sorry if that's not what you had in mind!

--

"Jesus, she-" Eddie's face is beet red, a mixture of sweat and adoration, "She looked right at me! Guys," He gushes to the camera, live-stream on, "Oh my god, this is the best day of my life, I think-"

Your face pops into view over his shoulder, eyes locking with his camera. His eyes go comically wide, and he angles the camera towards you so that he gets a better shot.

"Here," You reach for the phone, catching a glimpse of Eddie's hand as he passes it over, "Woah, shit, dude! Cool rings." You brush a finger over his knuckles, camera forgotten. His cheeks go even redder, if at all possible, and while you're holding his phone, he scrambles to tug one off of his hand.

"Here- here," He urges, one of his rings balanced in his palm, nearly falling as his hand shakes, "You- please, you can have one!"

"Thanks," You grin, scooping it out of his hand and sliding it onto your left ring finger: a perfect fit.

"What's your name?" You make to stand again, and Eddie's mouth almost doesn't work as he watches you position his phone so that you're both in frame.

"Eddie." He recites, not even sure if he's managed to remember the right name, "I'm Eddie."

"I've seen you before, Eddie." You recall, "Last show, right?"

"And- and the one before that!" Eddie nods vigorously, "You- man, I can't believe you remembered."

"You're very hard to forget," You reach out to tug at a frizzy curl of his, and he's quite sure he's on the verge of blacking out, "Come around the back tonight, okay? 'Feel like the man who put a ring on my finger deserves to talk to me for more than twenty seconds."

[ddlcbrainrot]

guess who has been procrastinating studying for their exams by drawing 😁😁😁👍👍👍

[goldenbuckyyy]

COMPLICATED FREAK 

Summary: The year is 1984 and you’re dead set on getting backstage at a Harry Styles concert.

Pairings: 80sRockstar!Harry Styles x fem!Reader (groupie!reader?)

Word count: 7.2kish

Warnings: Um, almost 4k of pure smut?! Oral (fem!receiving), choking, spanking, doggy style, dirty talk, raw sex, creampie, squirting, hehe. Anything else? Let me know!

A/N: I got this idea just imagining groupie!reader and this happened!! Literally wrote 5k in one sitting and I completed this the next day. I don’t usually write smut, but I want to write more of it… SOOO let me know what you think? Please! Song inspiration includes unreleased “Complicated Freak” by yours truly, Harry Styles.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.

Masterlist

You felt hot. 

You felt fucking sexy. 

You had bedazzled one of your bras from straps to cups in silver, you added white fur to the inner section of your boobs, and it was perfect in the end. You had managed to find the perfect pair of silver sequin flare pants, and your favorite white platform boots. 

You had teased your hair just right, your makeup was dramatic, but not excessive. Your lips were painted cherry red and you felt fantastic.  

You wanted to stand out against the mob of other girls. You knew you would. 

You had to stand out tonight. 

You had spent months perfecting your outfit, your makeup, your hair, and especially your plan for tonight. 

You were 99.9% sure it wasn’t going to work, but that slight 00.1% was enough to have you at least try. 

You were going to fuck Harry Styles tonight. 

You knew it sounded crazy. You knew he probably already had hotter girls lining up for him, but you wanted this so badly. 

You knew he fucked different girls at different cities. Well, you heard rumors about it. Nothing was 100%. 

Now in Los Angeles, you wanted to be the girl he fucked here. 

You had to get on two different buses to make it to Los Angeles, California. Hauling your giant suitcase down the city streets, finding your hotel, with different men whistling at you from different angles, and you ignored all of them. 

Your eyes were set on only one man tonight. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, do a little twirl, fix your breasts in your bra to pop out a bit more, and apply another swab of lipstick. You pop your lips, wiping the corners, and smile to yourself in satisfaction. 

You grab your gift for security, hoping it’ll work, your concert ticket, and spray yourself with perfume before walking out the hotel room. 

You make your way down to the elevator, which is filled with people dressed in exotic outfits and colors, you squeeze into the tight elevator, smiling at the people around you, and make your way down to the lobby. 

You try to not let your mouth fall in shock when the elevator doors open and you’re in view of all the different people talking loudly on the first floor. Just like you, everybody was dressed to impress tonight. You wondered if anybody was trying to do the same as you tonight. 

You knew there would be. 

You make your way outside, looking around you aren’t too sure where to go, but you see a crowd of people walking in one direction and you can hear the loud music. You decide to follow them. You admire the city lights above you, whispering a low “wow” in awe, and you feel almost light headed because you can’t believe you’re really here. 

You had never even been to Los Angeles before this. Better now than never. 

You made it to the place where the concert was being held down in the Sunset Strip, there was already a line being held outside, and you waited patiently for your turn to go inside. 

You were feeling anxious already, wishing you had a drink in your hand to calm your nerves, but soon enough you were next in line. 

You’re soon standing in front of the bodyguard outside of the nightclub, Gazzarri’s. He was tall, muscular, wearing a jean jacket with the sleeves cut off, tattoos littering his arms and chest, a black bandana wrapped around his forehead, ripped jeans, and a pair of combat boots that sealed the deal. You found him attractive. If you weren’t here to fuck Harry, maybe you’d fuck him instead. 

You bat your eyelashes up at him while giving him a pouty smile. “Hi,” you beam at him.

The security officer looks you up and down, whistles at you, “Trying to catch someone’s eye, miss?” You detect a slight British accent in his tone. 

You smirk as you hand him your ticket, “And if I was?” He smirked back at you, admiring your voice that sounded like honey, and winked at you. 

“You won’t have any trouble there, doll.” He steps aside to let you into the concert, he brushes his fingertips on the opening between your bra and pants, and you roll your eyes while you walk inside. 

You step inside admiring the scene in front of you. The room was filled with smoke, part weed and part smoke machine, the room was crowded with people of all ages, and you hum in content. 

You feel the goosebumps arise on your naked skin as you walk around trying to find the bar to get a drink to settle your nerves. The nightclub was big, with a huge open space for the crowd, the stage was a good size with the band's equipment ready to go, music playing over the speakers to get the crowd buzzing, and there were just so many types of different groups around you. 

People talking and laughing amongst themselves, couples basically grinding on each other, and you take notice of the different bodyguards at different sections. You peer over someone’s shoulder to get a better look when you see a black velvet curtains with five bodyguards covering the entrance. You notice a couple girls and guys hanging out around it. You wonder if that’s where Harry is. 

You still feel nervous. You decide to continue your search for the bar. You spot it on the other side of the nightclub. You make your way towards the bar, you lean on the bar, making sure to accentuate your breasts, and smile at the bartender who’s eyes land on your chest before your face. 

He smirks at you, “What can I get you, baby?” 

“Can I please have two shots of vodka and two cherry vodka sours?” You smile back at him, you twirl your hair between your red fingertips, and bat your lashes at him. 

You were flirting hard tonight because you didn’t bring any money to this concert. Not because you knew you’d be able to manage to get free drinks, but because you were too nervous thinking about your plan to think about anything else. Plus, this was allowing you to see what works on different guys. Maybe it would work on Harry, too. 

The bartender bites his lips while looking at you and nods his head. He pours four vodka shots in front of you, shoving two towards you, keeping two for himself, he picks one up with a smile, and you do the same. 

“Cheers,” he says with a wink and down the first shot. You follow his movements and drink the second one right after. 

You let out a deep breath as the vodka burns your throat and evaporates in your chest making you break out into goosebumps. 

“Nice,” the bartender remarks at you while he makes your two drinks. 

You start fumbling around your pants to make it seem as if you’re taking out money, when he notices he quickly signals you to stop, your eyes go doe eyed, mouth parting in shock, “Are you sure?” 

He nods and winks at you again, “Yes, anything for a beautiful girl like you. Enjoy!” 

“Wow! Thank you!” You exclaim while grabbing your drink which has three cherries on a toothpick, you pick up the cherries, popping one in your mouth, you moan in contentment, closing your eyes slightly, squeezing your elbows closer to your chest, and you relax when you swallow the cherry. 

You open your eyes to see the bartender admiring you with glossy eyes, “Damn.” 

You wink at him, push yourself off the bar with your two drinks, “Thank you, babe!” You make sure to move your hips a bit more as you walk away from him. 

You knew it wasn’t entirely right to use your body sexually to get free drinks or to get what you want. But shit. Right now, you’d do it. 

You sip on one of your drinks as you make your way towards the crowd. You manage to insert yourself into the middle of it. Sipping on your drink, watching everybody around you carefully. You’d move an inch forward every time someone moved to the side. You were able to flawlessly intertwine yourself between people, giving some guys a smile as you squeezed in front of them, avoiding mean looking girls, and thankfully made it to the front of the stage when a group of girls left for the bar. 

You hum happily, finishing your first drink, and tossing it to the trash can to the side of the stage. 

You can feel the alcohol in your veins which make you feel lighter. You can feel the nerves and anxiety still in your body, but now you feel more confident and more sure of what you came here for. 

Your ears perk up when you hear some girls talking next to you about Harry. 

You push your hair behind your ear trying to listen as you take a glance at them

“Harry never takes groupies backstage!” The red haired one wearing cut off jeans, a red crop top saying “Hot for Harry”, and dramatic makeup says. 

“Oh, fuck off! Are you sure? He has to have groupies! He’s fucking Harry Styles.” The pink-haired one was wearing a matching shirt, but hers was hot pink, black ripped shorts, and matching hot pink fishnet leggings. 

“You remember, uh, Miranda?” Pink hair nods rapidly, “Well, she tried getting back stage the last time Harry was here and he fucking threw her out!” 

“No!!” “Yes!!” 

You groan internally at hearing this because you couldn’t believe it. You swore if you came all this way for nothing, well not for nothing, you did love his music, but you wanted to have sex with him a little bit more.

“Maybe he has a type. I bet I could fuck him,” the pink-haired reply giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows at her friend.

“I doubt it.” 

You continue sipping your cherry drink, nerves spiking once again, and wondering if your plan was really going to work. 

Seconds later, you notice the band members start coming out from backstage. All dressed sexy in matching black outfits. You couldn’t remember their names correctly, but you swore the drummer's name is Sarah because you admired her. She was a fucking woman in an all male band and she delt with the medias sexism extremely well. She looked hot in black leather pants, black tiny bra, and a matching bandana that pushed her teased long hair away from her face. 

The other members were pretty much dressed the same way, the guys wearing ripped black jeans, either no shirt or a cut off sleeve black t-shirt with their band name, combat boots, and teased frizzy long hair. 

You wonder if they knew how hot they all looked. 

You bounce on the heels of your boots in anticipation of waiting for Harry. The crowd around you starts to chant his name, you chant along, and then there he is in front of you. He strolls onto the stage and it’s like the world halts for a moment. 

Your mouth drops a bit with the straw of your drink on the tip of your tongue, mouth feeling suddenly dry as you watch him slowly stroll down the stage, his arms up high waving at his fans, yelling loudly, and you feel hot in the crowd. The fans around you are yelling, clapping, whistling loudly, and it’s all for Harry. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

He stood in the middle of the stage, in front of his microphone, in leather pants. Only leather pants. He had the biggest fucking smile on his face as he let himself take in the crowd in front of him. 

His leather pants were tight on his skin especially his thighs, his skin glistening underneath the stage lights, abs in perfect view, his tattooed body was toned in all the right places, and he looked fucking fantastic. 

His hair was long and curly, pushed back by a white bandana which allows a few of his curls to fall down his face, and he’s smiling a dimpled smile with twinkling eyes. 

“Mother fucking Sunset strip!!!” He yells into the microphone, gripping it tightly, and the crowd goes wild for him. 

Fuck. 

You want this concert to be over. You feel your body hot all over just by looking at him. 

You need to get backstage somehow. The band was going crazy while Harry goes to get his white guitar, he has his guitar pick in between his teeth, he adjusts his bandana then his guitar strap, and goes to the mic. 

“Are we fucking ready to have a good time tonight?!” 

The crowd goes wild for him. There’s jumping, yelling, screaming, clapping, and you can’t help but break out into a smile feeding off of the energy around you. Harry introduces their first song, the crowd starts jumping, and you jump with them. 

Soon enough there are different girls yelling for the different band members to turn their way. You see so many different tits being flashed around. Harry winking at different girls throughout the show. You can see the indent of his dick underneath those tight leather pants. He grinds onto the microphone the entire night, you can tell he’s trying to relieve the pressure on it, and you wonder if he’s horny because of the girls in the crowd, or guys, or if he’s horny because of everybody worshiping him. 

You think it’s a bit of both. It makes you feel weak in the knees that he gets off on being worshiped. You swear to yourself you’re gonna be the biggest Harry worshiper in bed tonight. 

The songs soon start to blur together, your skin is coated in a slight coat of sweat, and you decide to start making your way to the velvet curtains. 

You shove your way out of the crowd, fanning yourself with your free hand, and finishing your drink with the other. You lick your lips, tasting cherry, and stand in front of one of the bodyguards. 

He looks meaner than all the others, dressed pretty much the same way, but he’s the first one that notices you. 

“Hi,” you breathe out with a smile as you dab the sweat away from your forehead. 

He raises an eyebrow at you in question, big muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, and you shuffle in your steps. You feel extremely nervous now as you stand in front of him. 

You get closer to him, raising up to your toes near his ear, and whisper “Can you escort me to Harry’s room backstage?” 

He barks out a laugh and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. “Oh, honey. You are not the first pretty lady to ask me that. No can do,” he tsks his tongue at you with a head shake. 

“I can give you something,” you blurt out as you reach into the pocket of your pants. 

“Oh yeah?” He asks, flirtatiously, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

You smile sweetly and pull out your gift in your closed palm. You slowly move your hand down to his and slip the gift into his palm. 

The bodyguard peers down at his palm, smirks with satisfaction, and turns to the bodyguard next to him. He looks around behind you and then says, “Escort her to Mr. Styles’ room, Mike.” 

The other bodyguard, Mike, looks at you while nodding. He opens the curtain quickly and pulls you inside. You feel your heart racing inside of your chest the more you walk down the long hallway. The cheering fades away, it starts to feel cooler which sends chills down your spine, and then he stops in front of a door. 

“Harry Styles” the sign reads on the door, you gulp down your nerves, letting out a shaky breath, and Mike opens the door with a key. He holds the door open for you, letting you in, “Good luck.” 

You nod at his response, not being able to say anything in return, feeling extremely nervous now even with the alcohol in your system, and you take a look around the dressing room. 

Holy shit, you’re in. 

You look around the room to check it out. You walk around slowly. There’s two black leather couches facing each other, one black table in the middle littered with shot glasses, empty red cups, and powdery substance. 

You bite your lip as you notice his different luggages and bags opened with clothes sprawled out of it. The vanity mirrors lights are on with different eyeliners, different colored bandanas, and a couple of guitar picks too. 

You see that there is a bed on the corner of the room, raising your eyebrow curiously, you walk closer to it, and peer at it. It’s still made and you wonder why it’s even here if apparently he doesn’t do groupies. 

You wonder if you’d be considered a groupie. You’ve never had sex with any celebrity. Hopefully, tonight changes that. 

You start playing with your fingernails while you wait, becoming increasingly aware of what you’re doing and wondering if you’re really cut out for this. You let out a shaky breath and turn around quickly when you hear the door to the room open. 

Your breathing hitches when you make eye contact with Harry Styles. 

He’s smiling widely, sweat covering his extremely toned body, his banana is in his hand, the zipper to his leather pants is halfway undone, his chest is moving in deeply with his breathing, and his eyebrows furr when he notices you. 

You lick your lips, quickly adjusting your stance, and you smile at him. Trying to hide your shaking hands. 

“Hi,” you breath out to him. 

“Hello?” He questions as he continues to walk inside his dressing room. “What-what are you, uh, doing in here?” He lets his eyes rack down your body slowly. 

“Um.. ha,” you giggle out. You rub your hands on your upper arms, “Funny story actually. I-uh.. I bribed a bodyguard to bring me back here.” You smile softly showing your teeth. Trying your best to not look like a complete psycho stalker. 

“Really?” He asks, his tone is enthusiastic like he can’t believe you. He walks past you, your body turns to follow his movement, he chugs a water battle, and raises his eyebrow at you in anticipation. He kicks off his combat boots to different areas of the room, still watching you with amusement. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, “I, uh, slipped him a little something.” 

“Did ya?” He teases with a mischievous smile teasing his lips. 

You bite your bottom lip, “Yeah.” 

Harry walks slowly around the room and towards the leather couches. He sits down in one of them, letting out a deep exhale, he tilts his head back to relax, and you look around the room not really sure what to do. You decide to sit down on the corner of the couch in front of him. 

“So,” Harry starts. “Why did you bribe the bodyguard with a little something to get back here?“ 

You sit there pondering on what to say. Debating on what to say that will convince him to sleep with you. You watch him as he watches you, he’s manspreading on the couch, one hand on his thigh, the other resting on the back of the couch, his eyes going up and down your body slowly, and he’s biting his lip. 

You decide to show that you’re confident in what you want. You reach down to unzip your platform boots, you slip your feet out, and exhale lowly. 

You got this, you tell yourself. 

You stand up, move in front of him, your hands are shaking, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, and unzip your pants from the side. You make eye contact with Harry, he’s still watching your every move, his mouth parting open, you slowly push your pants down to your ankles to slip them off to reveal your cherry red lacy thong. Which barely covers anything at all. 

You watch Harry as his eyes focus on your most private parts, his hand moving towards his own, and he groans when he adjusts himself on the couch. 

You still haven’t said a word, your skin is erupting in nervous goosebumps, and you reach to your back to unhook your bra. 

You let the straps fall down your shoulders, peering at him from underneath your eyelashes as you let your bra fall down your chest, and you hold it in your fingertips. 

Standing there naked in front of Harry, feeling yourself getting turned on just by the way he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you, and his noticeable erection full view. 

You let your bra fall from your fingertips. Licking your lips you say, “I want you to fuck me.” 

“Fuck,” Harry groans out, his fingertips reaching out to brush your hips, shivers run down your spine, you lean into his touch, and you can’t believe this is real. 

You wait for his true response, looking down at him, your hair casting over your face slightly, and you feel yourself already panting in anticipation. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as he suddenly wraps a strong arm around your waist, pulling you down to sit on his lap, you land with a hard bounce, moaning when you feel his already hard dick against your covered core, and your hands land on his toned abs. 

“Yeah?” You reply with a smile, pushing your hair away from your face, pushing your breasts higher to him, and wait for him to do something. 

His eyes are still eating you up, he licks his lips as both of his arms land on your hips, and he moves one to the back of your neck. 

Your skin feels like it’s on fire right now, you watch his face with your mouth parting open slightly, and you try not to react when he says, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to walk out of here.” 

Your face breaks out into a big smile at his words, you push your hips down to his dick to tease him some more, and he roughly pulls you into him. 

His lips land on yours hungrily, you wrap your arms around his neck, shoving your breasts against his chest, and moaning into his mouth at his taste. He tastes like tequila and he smells so fucking good. You weren’t sure if it was his natural scent or if it was cologne mixed with it. You had no idea, but you wanted to devour him. You knew you tasted like cherry vodka and you secretly hoped he liked it. 

Your kiss becomes messier, your lips crashing against his, your hips grinding against his hard dick still under his leather pants, he hisses into your mouth, his tongue fighting with yours for dominance, and you lick the inside of his mouth. You bite down on his bottom lip, sucking it, and moaning loudly when he tugs on your hair. You taste metallic, licking his lips, and you both pull away simultaneously. 

You’re both panting loudly, chests moving in sync, his eyes wide, and he laughs loudly. 

You smile at his reaction, your arms hanging loosely on his shoulders, and slipping your hands into his sweaty curls. 

“You’re a fucking dream, Cherry. You taste so fucking fantastic,” he moans out to you, pride filling your stomach, you beam at him as he starts to open mouth kiss your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over you.

Cherry. 

His fingertips pinching each one of your nipples, your head falling back in pleasure as the only sound in the room is your panting and the noises Harry is making as he laps his lips around your breasts. 

You whine loudly, looking down at him, holy fucking shit, and Harry suddenly wraps his arms on your waist pulling you up into the air. 

“Holy,” you breath out, he doesn’t stop kissing your body, he stands holding you up with one strong arm while his other hand is shoving off his leather pants in a rush. 

You look down at his long legs underneath you, moaning when you see he isn’t wearing any underwear. Harry’s dick is throbbing underneath you, bouncing in its full length, and his red tip is leaking already. 

Harry pushes your body against the wall, your groan in pain and pleasure as your body arches into him, his free hand now touching your breasts. His hands feel giant against your breasts. You can feel yourself almost dripping. 

Harry shoves everything off the vanity, all the items falling to the floor loudly, and he sucks on your neck while doing so. 

Harry sets you down onto the vanity desk, your legs spread open for him, and you watch him as he gets down onto his knees in front of you. 

Harry Styles on his fucking knees in front of you. 

His beautiful green eyes are on yours, he winks at you with a smirk, before he taps your hips to lift. You lift your hips as he tugs your thong off. 

“Fuck,” he groans out. “You’re fucking drenched, Cherry. Your pussy is fucking wet for me.” 

You smile at his nickname for you and nod yes. 

“All for you.” 

His fingers move to your slits, he spreads you open, and suddenly his mouth is on your core. 

You gasp in a sudden breathe when you feel his mouth moving on you. “Holy shit!” Your hands slipping in his curls, once again, and tugging them. 

Harry raises your legs over his shoulders, leaving them there, as he devours your sweet glistening pussy. 

You can’t look away from him, you’re marking this memory in your brain forever, and your hips grind into his face. 

Harry’s big hands go underneath your ass, holding you in place as he continues to eat you out, his tongue making you feel blissful. You can hear him groaning against you, sending vibrations in all the right spots, his tongue lapping up all your wetness, flickering your clit which makes you jump in his hold, but it feels so fucking good.

He slips in a finger into your wet pussy, starting to stretch you out, his cold rings against your pussy makes you want to combust already, you whine out, “Oh my god!” 

Suddenly, you’re in the air. Your legs are hooked on his shoulders, Harry is holding you up with one hand underneath your ass, his other hand fingering you slowly, and you feel like you’re in a fucking dream. 

He moves you against the wall, the cold wall feels good on your hot skin, and you lean against it to allow him more room. 

“Fuck,” you whine loudly when Harry sucks on your clit, sending shockwaves down your body, and Harry laps your pussy again. He sucks against the skin on your thighs, which you know is leaving bruises, and he moans up at you. 

“You’re a fucking sight,” he says as he inserts another finger in you. Your face falls in pleasure, his fingers starting to fuck you faster and harder, his mouth is in your pussy again, lips wrapping around your clit, and your body starts getting tighter. 

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you cry out in pleasure. Harry doesn’t falter in his hold as you’re in the air, his fingers don’t slow down, his mouth keeps sucking and licking in all the right places, and your abdomen starts tightening. 

Your hands tugs at his curls, he’s moaning against you, and you grind your hips against his mouth in pleasure. 

It’s when his fingers curl inside of your pussy, touching your g-spot, his mouth sucking your clit, that you absolutely lose it. You’re a whining mess above him, clenching down on him, feeling like you’re going to cry from pleasure, and your orgasm takes complete control of you. 

Your body shakes in his hold from your orgasm, your wetness soaking him as he laps you up, you can hear him slurping up your post-orgasm. 

Harry wiggles his fingers that are still inside of you, you let out a shriek as he pulls them out and Harry lifts you with both hands on your waist. His face looks freshly pussy fucked, he has red lipstick smearing against his cheeks and mouth, and he sets you down around his waist, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

You can feel his big dick still hard and bouncing under you. 

“You’re a fucking squirter. I fucking love it,” he hums and pulls you against his lips. You moan as you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

“You’re so hot,” you whisper into his mouth and he smirks against you. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he bites your bottom lip and moves towards the couch. 

He sits down, holding you above his dick, he pumps his dick in his hand, his eyes never leaving you, and you put your hands on his shoulder to balance yourself. 

You bite your lips, reaching down with one hand, wrapping it around his thick dick, and you align yourself with it. 

You tilt your chin up, not breaking eye contact with him, his eyes glazing over when your pussy finally makes contact with his dick. 

“Fuck,” he moans out as his dick spreads your pussy open, his rough fingers digging into your lush hips, you let out a loud moan, your eyes rolling backwards at the feeling of him spreading you open, “You’re so fucking tight. The-fuck-the tightest pussy I’ve ever had.” 

His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and licking, making your body arch into him, your hips moving up and down slowly trying to find a good rhythm. The sensation of his big dick inside of you, making you feel extremely hot all over, your nails digging into his skin, his hips starting to meet your movements. His tongue swirling on each of your nipples, slowly, leaving a trail of spit as he moves between the two. 

You whine and moan on top of his from all the sensations you’re feeling. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this way with somebody else. Not this fucking good. 

“You’re fucking pussy is going to be the end of me,” Harry whispers into your chest, leaving bruises with his mouths all over you. You moan out, “Harry,” which makes him move one of his hands to your neck, he squeezes the sides, palm down, your mouth pants open, his thrusts getting faster underneath you. 

He lifts his hips up, holding your hips tightly against him to hold you steady, both of your skins are glistening with sweat, the room smelled like sweet sex, and all you feel is pleasure. 

“You’re so fucking big,” You choke out in a pant, squeezing your walls against him. He holds you still as his hips meet yours, roughly and fast. He pulls your body into his, your breasts on his chest, his mouth moving towards your ear, “You’re being such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” You nod into his head as you start kissing and licking his neck. “Taking me so fucking good, yeah? Your pussy was meant to be mine, Cherry.” 

His lips wrap around your earlobe, sucking it roughly, “You’re so deep,” you say with a cry, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. 

He keeps his thrusts the same, slowing down a bit as he pushes your body apart from his, you lean back as you both look down, your glistening pussy taking in his dick, your walls taking him in so good, and you bite your bottom lip at the view. 

Harry chuckles, “Fucking amazing, huh?” You met his eyes, nodding, your legs feeling sore already, but you can’t stop meeting his thrusts. 

“Tired, baby?” 

You shake your head no, gripping his shoulders, letting your head hang back, your hips increasing speed, his fingers pinching and playing with your nipples, and then they inch down to your pussy. 

You place open mouth kisses all over his chest, licking his pecks, and biting down wherever you could. 

You gasp loudly when you feel his thumb on your clit, he starts to rub it slowly, you make eye contact, his mouth is parted open, his eyes never leaving your face, “That feel good?” 

“Mmmm,” you moan out, feeling numb as his thumb increases speed on your clit. You know you’re all swollen and sensitive. He’s loving the view in front of him. 

You start feeling the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach, “I’m close” you breath out. 

“Fuck yeah,” he moans, his thumb increasing his speed as your whining gets higher and louder, your legs start shaking around him, as you let out the loudest moan of the night as your orgasm takes over you. 

“Fuck yes,” Harry yells as his hips move faster in you to ride your orgasm, his hips snapping against your wet pussy, “God, this pussy is fucking heaven. Have you fucked any other rockstar like this?” 

You shake your head no, panting and feeling so fucking light, “Never.”

“Not even Tommy Lee? I’ve heard he has a big fucking dick.” He chuckles at his own comment, his hips slowing down as you come down from your orgasm, you go limp in his arms, he still holds you steady, and you smile at him. 

“I’ve only ever wanted to fuck you,” you say with a blissed out smile. 

“Fuckin’ hell. Really?” He says with a tone that he doesn’t believe you, you look at his face, and he’s smiling at you, dimples and all. His hips still moving slowly underneath you, you hiss at your sensitive walls. “Mhhmmm,” you hum out as you kiss his lips slowly. 

“Only you,” you whisper into his mouth, licking his lips, and he smiles another toothy smile. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” 

“Oh?” You question, your fingers moving to his curls, and he winks at you. He stands up, easily as if you don’t weight a thing, his dick slipped out of your pussy, you whine at the emptiness. “Hold on, princess.” 

He sets you down onto the made bed, “Ass up,” and your body does what he says. He adjusts your body to his liking, your upper half laying down on the bed, your knees on the edge of the bed, with you ass up high, and he sets down a loud smack on your ass. 

You let out a yelp at the burn, but moan at the sting. You reach out for a pillow to hold under you, 

“You’re still so fucking wet for me. Jesus, fucking- oh- you’re still dripping,” he says behind you, his fingers touching your wetness, you can hear him suck on his fingers with a moan, you whimper into the mattress, wiggly your ass in the air for him, “I’m coming, Cherry. Patience, baby.” 

You feel his dick slide inbetween your wet thighs, you spread yourself wider for him, and you can feel him guiding himself into your pussy and into your dripping folds. 

You moan as he teases you with the tip of his dick, his mouth kissing the arch of your back, licking down to your ass cheeks, and your pussy starts throbbing in want. 

“Please,” you whine out at him, begging. 

“Such a good girl,” he groans out, the tip of his dick at your entrance, you close your eyes, hands gripping onto the bed sheets in want, his dick bottoms out inside of you in one motion, your walls squeezing around him. 

“Oh!” You moan out, tilting your head back, panting as he starts thrusting inside of you. 

His thick dick buried deep inside of you, filling you up so fucking good, “Fuck, I meant it when I said you have the thighest fucking pussy I’ve ever fucked.” 

You beam with pride, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts, his hands moving to your shoulders to keep you steady as the fucks you senseless. 

He slides out his dick, the tip moving out of your pussy, he moves it to flick your clit, gasping in pleasure, he thrusts back into you, your body jerking against his with every slam of his perfect dick. 

His hand moves into your hair, gripping the roots and he pulls it into his palm, your neck tilts back, pleasure runs through you, goosebumps erupting all over your skin, “Fuck! Harry—oh—fuck!!” You whine, tears falling down your cheeks in pleasure, “You fuck me so fucking good!” you cry out. 

He growls behind you as he watching his dick move in and out of you, glistening for all your juices, “Don’t stop!” You tell him as you grip onto the sheets, his hand still tugging at your hair, he slips his other hand onto your neck, squeezing the sides of it which causes you to moan and cry again. 

You both are panting loudly, moans and cries, he continues to pound into your slick pussy, his dick meeting your spongy area, filling you with bliss again, you curse underneath him. 

You felt so sensitive with each hard thrust, but you could feel yourself coming close again. You start feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, but you can’t stop. You’re in fucking heaven right now. 

He pulls out of you suddenly, letting you go, he flips you on your back, he pulls your legs over the edge of the bed, wrapping them around his waist, he looks fucked out as he slams back into you, not even letting you adjust. 

You cry out at him, his hips slamming into you hard, your legs are shaking around his waist, one of his hands wraps around your throat again, he squeezes, you wrap one hand on his wrist, and the other clutches onto the bed sheets. 

“Fucking best pussy,” he whispers at himself, his hand moving to your clit again, you cry out when his fingers slap your clit gently, shocks erupting inside of you. 

“Harry—I—I don’t think I can,” you cry out, tears still falling down your cheeks. 

“Fuck no, baby. Yes you fucking can,” he says, his fingers moving against your clit, his dick hitting your g-spot so deeply, your breasts bouncing up and down from his thrusts, and you feel like you might pass out from pleasure. 

He’s fucking you hard and senseless, making sure you’re going to come again for the third time, he’s hitting all your spots, spots you had never even felt before, your hips grinding at his thrusts, “Harry!” 

“Hold on a little bit more, baby. I’m almost there,” he croacks out, his forehead is sweating, you adjust your head so you can look at him, he looks drunk on you, his hand still squeezing your throat, you squeeze his forearm so he can look at you, his eyes snap to yours. 

When he sees you’re already staring, he smiles drunkily, winks at you, and continues to slam into your pussy deeply. His fingers don’t stop on your clit, they increase their speed, you pant as you see him groan out a moan, his eyes clenching shut, “My fuckin’ pussy.”

You nod when he opens his eyes, “You ready?” He asks, your orgasm at the brink of taking over, but trying your best to hold off until he let you come. 

“Mmmhmmm,” you whine out, your legs still shaking around him. 

“Fuck yes, come on baby. Let go. Let go for me, baby. Show me how I make you fucking feel,” he whispers, his speed increasing a bit, as soon as those words slip out of his mouth, your body reacts in releasing your orgasm.

“Fuck!!” You cry out as your orgasm makes your entire body start to shake. Your hardest fucking orgasm rocks your body. You swear you’re seeing black spots in your vision. 

“Fucking—-shit!!” He yells out above you, your legs thighten around him, he grips onto your thigh hard, as he releases inside of your fucked out pussy. 

You feel his hot cum coat your walls, his abs flexing above you, he’s smiling, dimples creasing, his dick still in your tight pussy, you squeeze slowly, and he hisses in pleasure. 

Your ears are still ringing as you continue to come down from your third orgasm. 

He slowly pulls out, you both hiss at the empty feeling, he smiles a lazy smile at you before he goes into the restroom. He comes back with a soaked rag in one hand, your legs feel so sore, and you let yourself breathe in deeply to relax. 

He gently cleans you up before cleaning himself. You adjust yourself to the top of the bed, pull the soft blanket that was folded on top of one of the pillows, and cover yourself. You want to reveal this feeling just a bit more. 

While Harry is in the bathroom, you look at your body quickly. You admire all the bruises he left you with his mouth and his hands. You know you’re going to have this memory forever. 

You giggle after a few seconds because you can’t believe this really happened. 

“Holy fuck! That was fucking-holy-wow,” Harry pants out as he flops down next to you, crossing his arms over his head, and stares at you in amazement. 

He has a big toothy smile, messy eyeliner, your red lipstick all over his body, and all you want to do is lick his abs.

You giggle at him while you tug off the blanket on your naked body. You sit down on the side of the bed, stretching your arms above your head, and about to get off the bed. 

You’re suddenly pulled back by your waist into Harry’s chest. You let out a loud laugh as he adjusts you into his hips, his grip tightening on your waist, “Where do you think you’re going?” 

His eyes twinkle with mischief. You blush under his stare, covering your face with your hands, and bite the corner of your nail bed on your index finger. 

“Home?” You reply, but it sounds like more of a question. 

“Nah, baby. You’re coming with me to Vegas. I can’t let go of the girl that just inspired my next hit single.”

Your eyes go wide, mouth drops in shock, and you slap your hands on his chest. 

Harry lets out a barking laugh, head tilting to his headboard, and you search his face for a lie. 

“Are you serious?” You whisper. You can’t believe what he just told you. 

“Hell yes, baby. I’m fucking serious,” he exclaims while he pulls you down to him by grasping your neck. 

Your teeth buckle together with his, his mouth is rough on yours, but you love it. Your lips move against his in rhythm, his lips plump because of all the kissing and biting, you lick the inside of his mouth. He groans, hips bucking up again, and you giggle. 

You pull away, biting his lip, he moans into your mouth, his eyes going backwards, and you whisper, “Okay.” 

You guess you’re going to Las Vegas now. 

*****

ROCKSTAR HARRY STYLES RELEASES NEW SINGLE “COMPLICATED FREAK”

Rumors fill the LA streets of this filthy-dirty-sex song about how it’s inspired by the new mystery lady that Styles hang off of. 

Nobody knows who or where this mystery girl came from. Was she a friend before lover? An upcoming celebrity? A fan? A groupie? Who knows! 

But all we know is that we wish we were her right now!!

Listen to the lyrics below to see what we're talking about!!

www.complicatedfreaklyrics.com

[pinksiames]

Me and @clevenhq are constantly cooking it’s crazy

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

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

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

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

Basically rockstar John and groupie Gale au 😋

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

[spamgyu]

alr alr as requested by @stormbrite1989

let's talk about Alex Kwon

Alexander Kwon but pls don't call him by his government name. It's Alex or AK (he gave himself that nickname... def not catching on. no one is calling you that.)

Alex Kwon who goes to CSUF and part of a dance crew.... maybe even one of the main dancers. he's actually really quiet and awkward when u first meet him......

and then u guys actually hang out and....well now u cant get him to stfu

Alex Kwon who doesnt know how u ended up in his life but ur probably the best thing to happen to him right next to kimchi.

Alex Kwon who shows up to ur apt asking if u have food and swear up and down in the gc ur just a friend and ur the same ....

Alex Kwon who will literally call u in the middle of the night to ask u to get boba with him and u dont think twice to agree..... this whole time the boba shop is in San Diego

like hello?? we have an 8am???

"its fine just sleep on the way back" ???

Alex Kwon who is a clingy drunk and u guys may or may not have made out during the group's vegas trip ... and u swear ur in a situationship with him and he goes

"wtf is a situationship i'll kill us both??" this whole time he thought that kiss (make out) was u guys professing ur feelings for each other.

def told everyone ur his gf....

??? babes just last week u said i was ur best friend wtf do u mean

"idk i thought u knew" bitch i ???

[astorytotellyourfriends]

wip wednesday

eddie remains a filthy nasty man thank u

With a deep, breathy laugh, Eddie lets go of Chrissy's legs and pitches forward to cover her body with his. She hardly has a moment to recover before he's kissing her, licking into her mouth in such a way that she shivers and clenches around him as the feeling of his tongue against hers sets off another wave of pleasurable aftershocks. "Eddie," she breathes out as she turns her head, pushing her sweat-laden bangs off of her forehead as he presses his mouth to her throat. "Fuck, baby," he groans into her skin, "every fuckin' part of you tastes so good."

[spicyraeman]

Hello!

How do you think your Lae'zel would respond to the inevitable rabid groupies they would attract by being the ridiculously hot drummer?

Oh boy, she would react exactly like a cat, one moment she's lavishing in all the attention and love cuz why wouldn't she? Her skill, her performance, her stage presence? Impeccable. More than worthy of all the praise.

Then the next moment she's decidedly had enough. Its too much and she may be worth the attention but they certainly aren't, so why should she have to give them the time of day? Most interactions end with a strong "fuck off" and her stalking off somewhere else

Yknow, average Lae'zel Things(tm)

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage Show Pt.6

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5.5k

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

or

you and hobie get back together

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

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

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

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

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

Until he was back to touring in your location. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still mad at me, luv?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I so am."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I missed ya, luv." Hobie began.

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

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

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

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

"Let's go take it then."

[steviesbicrisis]

The public attention is too much, our favorite four are back together but the fun doesn’t last long.

Corroded Flowers (17/20) - AO3 Prev | Next

We’re really close to the end!! It should be around the 20th update! Tammy has been keeping tabs on Lily’s Flowers and she couldn’t stand anymore seeing them being more successful without her.

Anyways, for the epilogue I was thinking about making it a q&a. If any of you it’s interested in submitting questions for the fruity four to answer let me know! Otherwise I will put stuff I wasn’t able to fit in the AU :)

As always thank you for the love on the au and my ask is always open if you wanna chat!!

Taglist: @legallymarriedtorobinbuckley @loserwithagodcomplex @unclewaynemunson @bookfrog242 @goawayrvse @whimsicalwitchm @mx-aizawa @lightwoodbanethings @nelotegreitic @kerlypride @munsonmanor @brassreign @e-dollly @yes-im-your-mom @howincrediblysapphicofyou @courtjestermunson @nancewheelerwife @injectingelation @goingsteddi3 @a-little-unsteddie @undreamingscatworld @crykea @stevesbipanic @narcissist-era @hagbaby420 @feministfandomgeek @scarletzgo @whydamnitwhy

Rest of the list on the reblog and comments. If you want to be added or removed ask away, it's no trouble and no hard feelings at all ✨ If you asked me to tag you and you don't see your name, it's probably because you don't allow tagging in your settings!

[oneforthemunny]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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