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#band fanfiction
milleeeeeee · 5 months
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how am i supposed to stick to one fic at the time when i want to read them all at the same time
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th0ughts-pr4yers · 4 months
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Just out of curiosity, would anyone be opposed to me posting/sharing my fan fics that I’ve written here?? Like is that something you’d be interested in reading? My writing varies from fluff to smut, and I also write some action fics too! I have a few stories in the works, But if anyone was interested I could always post them chapter by chapter! Just let me know and I’d be more than happy to share them!!
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ohabigailhowcouldyou · 5 months
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Candy... ~pt 2: Honey~
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Read part 1 first
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There was no moment for Vinny to get Ricky alone again for the rest of the day, and by the time they trooped onto the stage that night, Vinny's nerves felt taught, like guitar strings about to snap the second someone strummed them.
He tried to divert the tension into the music, letting the familiar beats of his drum kit carry him from song to song. But by the time Werewolf started, he knew it was in vain. Every so often until then he'd catch Ricky's eyes on him, blue and hot as gas flames, and something low in his belly would clench, like a hunger pang.
Then the second verse of Werewolf started, and for a second Ricky looked back at him, then pointedly nodded at Chris. Vinny's heart skipped a beat, as did the hit he'd meant to land on his snare drum. Ricky's smirk let him know the other man had noticed his fumble and he swallowed heavily, just barely recovering in time to look forward and witness, yet again, Chris displaying his feral side that had twitter in such a state. Vinny tried not to look. Tried and failed to keep his eyes off Chris' ass and thighs, his profile as he turned to do his dance with the Cherrybombs. And when, after the song, Chris grinned at him while drinking water, Vinny could feel the blush staining his cheeks just as painfully as he could feel that same tightening in his belly that Ricky could trigger. He didn't smile back, and could see the concern on Chris' face before he had to turn back and address the audience.
For the rest of the set, Vinny kept his head down, feeling unreasonably angry and humiliated. After everything, why would Ricky point his attention back to Chris, if not to mock him? Didn't this afternoon mean anything to Ricky after all? Had he misread disappointment at losing out on head as something deeper? The questions spun through Vinny's mind in a dizzy spiral with no end in sight.
They finished the set, and Vinny all but ran off stage, trying to get the hell away from his bandmates and his own thoughts. Unfortunately there weren't many places to escape to, backstage of the venue. He ended up outside, in the walkway between the venue and their fleet of buses and trailers. He leaned against a trailer, outside of the pool of light from the stage door, hoping he'd stay hidden for at least a little while. He shivered, the air was freezing on his sweaty, painted skin. He picked at a spot on his arm where the black paint was starting to flake off. Maybe on their next tour he'd stop covering his skin. Ricky didn't anymore, nor did Chris. At that thought, Vinny's frown deepened.
It was there, scratching the paint off his arm with a scowl on his face, that he was found, much sooner that he'd hoped.
"Vin, there you are! I've been looking - Jesus, Vinny, you're gonna get fucking hypothermia!"
It was Chris, ducking down so his worried expression was eye-level with Vinny. He was so close that Vinny could see the little specks of glitter that had migrated from his eyelids to his cheekbones during the show.
"I'm fine," Vinny tried to tell him, but the words were hampered by the fact that his teeth were chattering so hard. He hadn't noticed quite how cold he was until now, when he realized the pain in his limbs wasn't solely from drumming.
"Vin, what's going on?" Chris' voice was gentle, and his warm hands gripped Vinny's upper arms tugging him away from the trailer and closer to Chris' hoodie-covered frame.
Vinny tried to shrug. "I just needed some air. The pyro and shit was cooking me alive in there. I hadn't noticed how cold it is." He wanted to think he'd given a plausible explanation, despite the fact that he'd started to shiver uncontrollably.
"C'mere," Chris mumbled, tugging Vinny against him and wrapping him in his arms. Vinny didn't bother trying to resist the hug, or, a few seconds later, Chris tucking him under one arm to lead him back into the venue.
"Did something happen with you and Ricky?" Chris asked, voice low, as they walked back into the venue. "After... Uh, what I interrupted."
"No," Vinny muttered. Chris' bodyheat was sinking into his skin, calming the shivers a little bit. He didn't try to pull away, though, even as they passed crew and venue staff on the way to their green room. "I mean... well... nevermind."
"You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."
Vinny sighed. If Ricky was going to try and humiliate him, Vinny may as well rob him of the ammunition.
"Before what you walked in on happened, Ricky had grabbed my phone to get me to give him back the damn candy bar. But he saw a video I was watching, and kinda threatened to use it against me, I guess, if I didn't give him... uh... what he wanted. But then we started making out, and I thought we were on the same page, or whatever. But now, I'm not so sure. I think that I misread him."
Chris was frowning, eyes dark with concern as he looked at Vinny. "Use it against you, how? And for a candy bar? Seems a bit drastic."
"Not the candy bar. He said he wanted a blowjob, actually. I thought he was just kidding, trying to piss me off. But then... Everything else happened, and I thought we were both into it, more than just stress relief, or whatever, I don't know. But tonight, he... I think he might have been more serious about the threat than I thought. Not necessarily trying to get me to really do anything sexual, I mean, he's not a creep. But to get back at me for getting the upper hand earlier, maybe."
"And how would he do that?" Chris prompted after patiently listening to Vinny's rambling explanation.
"Tell you what I was watching, I guess," Vinny mumbled, with a shrug, looking up to see they'd reached their green room. He could hear familiar voices behind the half-open door.
Chris obviously had more questions, but he gave Vinny a little shake, pausing before entering the room. "Why don't you take advantage of the showers here? Get warmed up. You're still shivering."
Vinny nodded, then turned to Chris, saying in a rush; "It wasn't anything gross. It was a video of you, actually. I guess I'd rather tell you myself, than have him do it."
Then, face burning with embarrassment and eyes stinging with sudden tears, Vinny stepped out from under Chris' arm and into the green room. He caught Ricky looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he didn't stop or acknowledge the other man as he grabbed his bag and made his way to the bathroom.
The showers were individual cubicles and he gratefully locked himself inside of one. He scrubbed the paint and sweat from his skin under the mercifully hot water, then dried off and pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie. He felt better, body temperature back to normal and a bit of the weight off his chest after talking to Chris. He was pretty sure he could finish out the last few days on the road without having a mental breakdown, even. Pretty sure. At least until he opened the cubicle door to find Chris waiting for him.
He was leaning back against the sink, face clear of the remnants of his makeup, expression carefully neutral. Vinny could see his own face reflected in the large mirror behind Chris, the small frown above his red rimmed eyes, the way he was pressing his lips together, muscles in his jaw twitching.
"I talked to Ricky," Chris said, without preamble. His voice betraying even less that his face.
"Yeah?" Vin tried hard to be casual, rubbing his damp towel over his dripping hair.
"I have a question."
Vinny slumped back against the partition between cubicles, letting his bag drop to the floor at his feet, still halfheartedly trying to dry his curls. He made a motion with his chin, to indicate that Chris can ask his question.
The older man tucked his hands into his pants pockets, eyes dropping down to the middle distance between them.
"The video... was that just, general interest in guys that you're exploring? Or was it more specifically... me?"
"That's two questions," Vin mumbled, then kept talking before Chris could reply. "I've been exploring my general interest in guys since highschool, so..." He shrugged, looking down at the damp towel in his hands.
"But... What about Ricky, then?"
Vin scrunched the towel into a ball, squeezing the damp material until his knuckles turned white. "It's possible to find multiple people attractive at the same time."
There was a soft sound as Chris shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah. I guess it is." There was amusement in his voice and Vinny looked up to see a small smile on Chris' face. He was still not looking at Vinny, keeping his eyes on the cracked tiles between them. "I guess it is," he repeated, quietly, like he was sharing some joke with himself.
"So, if we're done here," Vinny cleared his throat, twisting the much abused towel between his hands, as if to wring water from it, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"Wait, I just -", Chris took a step forward, one hand outstretched to halt Vinny's escape. His smile had faded, dark eyes meeting Vin's for the first time. "I wanted to say... God, I don't know. That I don't mind?"
"Cool," Vinny's voice was small. He bent forward to lift up his bag, but Chris' tattooed hand grabbed his before he could reach it. He jerked upright, to find Chris had closed the distance between them to step into Vinny's personal space, closer even that he'd been outside by the bus. Looking up, Vinny could have counted the taller man's eyelashes, except that Chris cupped his cheeks and pressed his lips to Vin's with exquisite softness and Vin lost the ability to form any coherent thought. The kiss was warm and chaste and Vin breathed a small sigh against Chris' lips, one hand reaching up to curl into the soft fabric of the Beetlejuice hoodie Chris was wearing.
Chris slid his palm down over Vinny's chest, to curl around his waist. He kept the kiss unhurried, even as Vin's lips parted for him to explore further, curling his tongue against Vinny's in a slow, teasing promise of things to come. Vinny heard himself moan, low in his throat, as he moved up onto his tiptoes, pressing closer against Chris' warmth.
Pulling away from Vinny's lips, Chris trailed kisses across his jaw, pausing to give his earlobe a kitten lick that had Vinny's skin erupting in goosebumps.
"God, Vin," Chris' voice was husky in his ear, "do you have any idea what I'd like to do to you?" More kisses trailed across his jaw, then down to the side of his throat, where Chris trailed the very tip of his tongue over Vinny's pulse point.
"Please," Vinny breathed, high and needy, one hand in a deathgrip around Chris' hoodie, the other coming up to tug at the short purple strands of Chris' hair.
Chris made a sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, and pressed his lips to Vinny's again, the kiss hungrier than before. He slid both large hands down over Vinny's back to cup his ass, grinding their hips together in a movement that had both of them gasping into each other's mouths. Chris rolled his hips, the same slow, deliberate movements he'd made on stage, only now it was for Vinny's benefit alone. Each languid thrust undid a little more of Vinny's inhibition, until he was rutting back against Chris, moans falling from his parted lips, their open mouths no longer kissing so much as sharing uneven breaths.
"Fuck," the expletive sounded torn from Chris' throat, and without warning he fell to his knees in front of Vinny, eyes dark as he looked up to ask, "May I?"
Vinny couldn't form a coherent thought, much less words, at the sight of Chris on his knees for him. He did his best to nod, hands trembling as ran his fingers lightly through Chris' short hair, being careful not to tug, however much he might have wanted to. Chris pulled at the waistband of Vinny's sweatpants, making a quiet sound of approval at the fact that there was no underwear in his way, as he wrapped long fingers around Vinny's hard length. Vinny had always been fine with how perfectly average his cock was, didn't spend his life obsessing over it like some guys seemed to. So, the effect the sight of Chris' large hand dwarfing him had was unexpected, making his breath catch in his throat, a curl of hot shame forming in his belly. Except, instead of putting him off, the humiliation only turned him on even more. His grip tightened on the purple hair, wordlessly urging Chris on. Vinny's breath was coming in short sharp gasps and he didn't think he'd last long enough for Chris to even begin stoking his cock properly, but somehow he managed to keep control of himself, even as Chris leaned in to lick at the precum leaking from his tip. He moaned at that, letting his head fall back for only a second, before looking down again, not wanting to miss a single second of the sight of Chris stretching his full lips around Vinny's cock.
It was an embarrassingly short time before Vinny felt the familiar tightening of his impending orgasm. He tugged harder on Chris' hair, to try and pull him away.
"I'm gonna... Please, Chris, I'm gonna cum... I'm -" the words were interspersed with little moans as Chris just swallowed him down even deeper, the head of Vinny's cock hitting the back of his throat.
Vinny couldn't hold back any longer, a keening moan escaping his lips as he came so hard he could see stars behind his tightly shut eyelids. Chris didn't pull away until he'd gotten every last drop from Vinny, given his softening cock slow little licks until Vinny jerked away, painfully oversensitive. He pulled up Vinny's sweats before rising to his feet, letting Vinny pull him in for a lazily, fuck-drunk kiss.
It took a few seconds for the thought of returning the favor to even occur in Vinny's scrambled brain, and he reached for Chris' waistband, wanting to touch, to reciprocate, but Chris caughts his wrists. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at the other man. Chris gave a small smile and shook his head.
"We need to get back to the bus, we're gonna be missed soon."
"But," Vinny started, and was silenced with a quick kiss.
"It's fine," Chris said. "Come on, let's go."
And with a last press of his lips to Vinny's, Chris turned and walked away, hands burrowing into his pockets, leaving Vinny behind, confused and disappointed.
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writingwarden · 12 days
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SLEEP TOKEN
[The characters they present on stage and in the lore! Not the people behind the masks.]
VESSEL CENTRIC
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II CENTRIC
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III CENTRIC
The mirrors remain covered [Hurt/No comfort, Eating Disorders]
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IV CENTRIC
- Weather me to nothing
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SLEEP CENTRIC
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POLYVESSELS
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lil-melody-moon · 2 months
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The fic that bothered me for so long until I finally wrote it down. It's a sweet little story set in Paris 1971. I think I wanted to give Jim a bit of happiness, that's why this story came to be. But yeah, enjoy this Jim Morrison x Female Reader one <3
Likes, reblogs, kudos and comments are appreciated!
Title: Lost Together
Summary: The feeling of being lost was always somewhere near you, only getting worse once you've found your way to France. Not knowing the language turned out to be a big barrier you couldn't deal with. Meeting people who you could understand felt like a blessing, especially during that one rainy day that brought a very close friend to you.
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fangirl94stuff · 1 year
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Andy Biersack (Black Veil Brides)
Requested on Wattpad
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You're awakened by the baby monitor on the bedside table, your little girl hadn't been sleeping well since Andy had gone on tour with the band. But the two of you had fallen into a routine so this morning would be like any other.
Getting out of bed, you put on your dressing gown and head out of the bedroom. Andy was due back today so he could take over baby duty for a while. Your daughter's bedroom was two doors down situated at the top of the stairs. You are taken aback to see a bag and suitcase at the top of the stairs and the bedroom door was open.
Leaning against the open doorway the sight in front of you shocks and melts your heart. Andy had come home early and was bouncing his daughter on his hip, causing her to giggle and in the low light Andy's face lit up at the cute sound. When you had become parents Andy was paranoid about touring and his daughter forgetting him, but she'd never forget her father because she was a daddy's girl.
'How's my little princess?' Andy coos, poking your daughter's belly.
'Ah' she replies, the sound cute enough to warm anyone's heart.
'Have you been good to mummy?' he asks, aware she couldn't answer with words but with sounds. He loved to have full conversations with her.
She nods and cuddles against his chest. Andy leans down and kisses the top of her head, 'good girl, god I've missed you.'
'I'll leave the two of you alone,' you whisper, just loud enough for Andy to look over at you.
'Thank you y/n, I love you,' he answers back, wearing a warm smile.
You turn around and leave heading back to bed.
MORNING
Waking up, the space next to you in bed was slept in but Andy must have already been awake because it was empty. You get up and leave the bedroom, taking note that your daughter wasn't in her room either, but you could hear Andy's voice downstairs.
In the kitchen, Andy is cooking something, while chatting to your daughter who was in her high chair gurgling and laughing.
'Here's some more fruit for my princess,' he says proudly, putting a bowl of grapes in front of her.
You chuckle, 'she has you wrapped around her little finger Andy.'
Andy winks in your direction, 'just like her mother then.'
You shake your head, unable to keep the smile off your face, and of course, your daughter has to reply with a firm nod of her head. Andy picks her up and starts to spin around gleefully, 'I'm going to spoil you rotten now I'm back.'
You shuffle around Andy and continue making breakfast where he'd left off while he plays with your daughter. He was a massive softie, and you didn't want to interrupt his bonding time. In the background, you hear the two of them laughing and the smile still hasn't left your face. Never in a million years did you think you'd start a family with Andy and hear him coo and talk in baby talk, while on stage he had an aura and a presence that enthralled and intimidated a little. But this was your family dynamic and you wouldn't have it any other way.
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0fth34byss · 2 months
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I'm getting back into writing after years! All completely fictional works based on band members (typically one of them x female reader narrative). Primarily Bad Omens and Lorna Shore inspired at the moment.
This is mostly NSFW content. Minors, please DNI 🔞
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Nick Folio
(Un)welcome Distraction (masterlist)
Fuck it up, Folio (one shot)
One more. Please (headcanon)
Noah Sebastian
Sex Isn't Love (masterlist)
Nicholas Ruffilo
Soak in the tub (headcanon)
Jolly Karlsson
Try that again (headcanon)
Oh, God (one shot)
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Will Ramos
About Last Night (one shot)
Perfectly Misaligned (masterlist)
Adam De Micco
When the Party's Over (one shot)
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ourlovesdelusions · 6 days
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chapter four, fresh out the oven :)
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cerisemorte · 2 years
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“Break The Cycle” - Chris Motionless/Cerulli (smut)
This is my first fan fiction ever! I made a Chris Motionless x Reader that I was thinking of making into chapters but starting as a bit of a one shot smut. It’s a little sappy, but I like it. Enjoy! <3
P.S, sorry if the formatting is wonky. Thank you mobile tumblr.
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Chris has always been sweet natured, despite what you may see in music videos that tout a unforgiving, relentless man. He has his flaws, regrets and quirks, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use them to wiggle his way into new situations. For example, he can’t hold a relationship but it doesn’t stop him from seducing you like lovers would; sending charming texts just as you’ve gone too far in your own mind in the dead of night, beckoning you to join him in his lonely apartment so you two could spend the solitude together - which inevitably leads to so much more. Chris has always seen your personality akin to his, caring, nurturing, and at times hopelessly throwing yourself in the way of love. You begin as friends and he confides in you regularly, coming to you about his private thoughts, pursuing you as a friend, or even matters of his music. On the topic of regrets, he recently came to you for advice about his song “Masterpiece.” He was explaining that he couldn’t afford to be in another relationship, the hardships were too much for him to bear and he felt overly infatuated when it comes to partners, so much so that it ruins the relationship from the core. He found himself to be overbearing and it riddled him with grief, so he swears off relationships like the plague - save for the things you do in private. It isn’t love, it’s simply friends with benefits. “No strings attached,” as he put it. Yet, you can’t help feel differently. Those previously mentioned moments where he would send sweet texts lead you on, filling you with a twinge of hope that he would see things on a different level. Now you are the one who finds yourself infatuated and regretful; starting a FWB that only leaves you wanting more emotionally. You’re aware that he can’t carry having a significant other, but the way he touches you, talks to you more than a friend would, has you feeling his experience. “Maybe if I just… steady him,” you think to yourself, “slow him down. We don’t have to rush into things, if that’s his problem.” Your fingertips stutter against his as you’re watching the dark ceiling, no light filtering through to make anything out of the popcorn paint. He rests peacefully next to you and your ruminating mind. One of his check up proposals worked yet again and you’re lying next to him after making your way over. His breathing is soft while he’s facing you, his icy blonde hair still prominent with little to no light in the small room, breaths landing on your arm as he moves in more towards you in his sleep. Your hand is still on top of his, you can feel every rough patch on his upper palm from holding many taped microphones during shows, running circles gently over the rugged pieces. It only hurts more to share such little moments knowing it’ll go nowhere in the end. Any lovely scenario you can muster will never manifest itself truly despite your love for him, the ball has been in Chris’ court - or could be, if you were honest of your feelings. You say it silently by feeling his skin in the dark in times like these, or when he’s making love to you when you’re over. Yet, never verbally.
You roll onto your side where your back now faces him, and the blinds are angled to luminate the floor with slats of street light from the story high window. Eyes darting aimlessly in your own melancholy, you trace the wrinkles on the sheet beneath you. Shifting erupts from behind you, and the pressure of his palm makes a divot in the mattress, propping himself up. Chris stays still for a moment before cautiously, slowly, reaching out to your hair and running his fingers through it. He lowers himself to stay up on his elbow and continues to rake his slender fingers through your soft tresses. You revel in the quiet, intimate moment. This is exactly what keeps you holding on to his finger; the gentle instances where you know Chris has the capability of loving, and loving properly. So what holds him back from pursuing anything? Especially something with you? You let out a soft sigh. He pauses again, fingers remain motionless in your hair. “You’re awake,” he says with a breathy chuckle. You roll over on your side to be met with his shirtless frame, his pale skin retracts from your hair. You offer a muted smile in response. He retires from his position and puts an arm underneath you, drawing you closer. ‘This is so perfect it’s almost painful,’ you admit to yourself. “What are you doing up? Something on your mind?” he asks. Your mind sounds like alarms, desperately wanting to bellow, ‘yes! I’m in love with you and the moment! I want this forever!’ “No, not really,” you exhale, shaking your head, the sound of linen pillows scratch in your ear. “Hmm,” he sounds, situating his hips and rubs his large palm in a pattern over your exposed stomach, inching upwards by the second. His eyes are fixated on your torso before flickering up to meet your gaze, now intrigued and soft. His dark eyes have a sparkle that is almost like a smile in itself. Chris leans forward, his jaw brushing against yours and mouth closer to your ear, “are you sure?”
You wouldn’t crack, there hasn’t been enough prodding for you to say what’s truly on your mind. You sound an ‘mm-hm’ in an objection to his question. Although, the way he’s been behaving since waking up has you feeling butterflies blossoming in your stomach. He may be experienced with love, but also very much so in intimacy. His wandering palm cups under your breast, rubbing and gently squeezing. The feeling illicit’s a soft whine in surprise, causing him to smile in the crook of your neck. Chris continues to massage your breast under your pajama top, warm hand engulfing your supple skin. He uses his index and thumb finger to gently play with your nipple. You cross your thighs together, squeezing slightly in return to the sensation heating up in your groin. His smile lessens to kiss in the bare part of your neck, subsequently the sweet spot you enjoy. His pale, velvet skin on your breast switches between playing your nipples and massaging your boobs. You move closer into his body, wrapping your arm around him, fingernails scratching the surface of his back lightly enough to leave trails of white. “Such a sweet girl,” his raspy voice purrs below your ear, continuing to kiss and graze his teeth on your neck. Stopping his pattern on your breasts he pulls your leg up to rest over his hip, giving much more access to other parts of your body. You have only been wearing an oversized top, forgoing your panties for the night, which is very convenient for Chris. His actions have been pulling whimpers and whines from you that have only been the start. His middle and next finger run across your exposed lips, wet and sensitive to his touch and the cold air that rushes in. Your mouth is ajar, gasping to his actions.
Chris is reveling in your reactions and the way you look next to him; lying in anticipation of his touch, focused on his fingers teasing where you want it most. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep up at least the sexual aspects of what you both share, it does offer some closeness, and he’s the only person who knows your body better than you do. No amount of toys or playing alone to the thought of him can compare to the real thing. “Is this is what you’ve been wanting?” He asks. You bite your lip, moaning softly as he adds some pressure to running his fingers but not entering inside you and brushes against your sensitive clit.“Use your mouth before I fuck it,” he asserts and lowers his gaze to you. You throw your head back, “fuck, please?” “Use your words, ‘please’ what? Please finger you?” He pries, pushing his two fingers slightly into your needy hole. You wriggle your hips almost in protest for him to just put them in already. You bite down harder on your lip. “Please, Chris? Come on, please,” you gasp. He pushes his fingers in and you rest your leg over his hip more, no room left to move in closer especially with his arm under your body. Pumping his fingers in and out you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure. He rubs that perfect spot that makes your senses go wild, your mind jumbled with thoughts of being fucked any way possible by him. Profanities slip from your mouth as he enters a blissful pace and rhythm inside you. “More, more - yes - oh, more fingers please.” He pushes in another to amount to three fingers, the feeling stretching you wonderfully. “Oh my god,” you drag out in a moan. A bit of a throaty growl spouts from his throat. His thumb pad begins to rub in circles on your delicate clit. “That’s it, atta’ girl, taking my fingers so good.” You dig your nails into his back. Your foreheads press together in a moment before he dips in to kiss you, deepening it by the second before it turns into using tongue. You break apart slightly to moan before he catches you again, slightly picking up his pace. The only thing you both can hear is the sounds of your lips, the wetness of your folds, and your needy breaths. “Had enough yet?” You gulp, tightening around his busy fingers. “No, sir.” “That’s fucking right,” he groans, pulling his hand from you. You gasp in opposition, immediately missing the full feeling. It’s short lived when Chris rebuilds your resting position to being flipped over on your stomach, your face angled sideways on the pillow instead of being buried face-first. He brings your hips up some to where his hips meets the curve of your ass. He’s hard through his underwear and you can feel the ridges of his cock through the smooth fabric. His muscular arms are on either side nearest to the round of your shoulders. He dips his head to kiss on your bare back from where your top had slid towards the base of your neck and exposing your breasts. He trails them down before using his right hand to play with your breasts under your lifted body. “Look at you underneath me, perfect position to be fucked and used.” Every word he says, every touch, lights a fire in the core of your stomach. You can’t focus on every bouncing thought that makes way through your head, your senses are nearly overloaded. You can only feel the incessant want in your tight pussy, the primal urge to be filled is overwhelming. At the end of his sentence he lays a few slaps on your full ass.
You feel his weight leave the bed for a moment to strip himself of the remaining clothing before returning. The street lights have funneled in at the advancement of the moonlight, leaving a little more sight to see his completely tattooed arms return around you to take off your top. Although the way he plays with you is rough and filthy, sometimes the small things feel like little lovely reminders that you’re still safe and regarded. Within the swift motion of discarding your shirt he reaches to his cock, rubbing the head along your pussy.
“Fuck, please sir, please put it in.” You beg at his mercy. Chris delights himself in your pathetic cries to be ruined. To him you’re adorable when you’re vulnerable and at his whim, every aspect of your pleasure and satisfaction is up to him. Never has he left you empty handed. Smiling with perfect rows of crystal-esque teeth, he situates himself close to you, bodies pressing together again as he sinks in. You grip the sheets and pillowcases, burying your face in the plush mounds. A loud moan escapes your lips, his sound matching yours in different pitch.
“Such a little slut,” he thrusts into your soaking, pink, wet pussy, quickly picking up the pace. Chris clasps a hand in your hair and uses his other to hold on to the silk fabric. “Taking me so good. I love fucking your pretty body, all fucking mine, too. I can’t resist fucking my sweet girl.”
“Oh, god, Chris!”
He gives a guttural moan to your whines. He dips his forehead in between your shoulder blades, hand still situated in your hair. His hips are slamming into yours, every ridge and vein of his cock gliding over your own velvet ridges and that aching spot. Chris finds a new resting place for his large palm around your throat instead of your hair. He squeezes enough not to hurt but enough for you to feel the pressure.
“Come on, bunny, fuck- such a good girl,” his blonde hair is scattered over your shoulder blade. Your bodies are moving in sync with one another’s, shaking the once still mattress and causing your breasts to bounce in time with his thrusts. His cock twitches inside you, only adding an enormous amount of pressure to your g-spot and the hot feeling in your abdomen.
“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, I can’t focus on anything but you,” Chris confesses, giving quick kisses to your spine and neck, “I’ve been wanting to dominate your precious body for so long - fuck. Nobody can fuck you like I can, isn’t that right? Your body was fucking made for me!”
Chris admitting such a thing makes your own sounds louder. Even though it’s lustful you still hold it close that he’s been thinking about you and longing for you in some kind of way. You only wish that you could take it as he wants you permanently, but that would be tangling yourself in the strings he said aren’t attached. You love the satisfaction he brings to you, the way he knows your body in and out, can make you feel better in so many aspects. You feel as though he knows what to say, sexually or not, so how could he feel like there are so many regretful things he’s said to others? In your eyes he’s almost like a perfect figure. You’re slowly brought back to the moment at hand when he’s rubbing your clit, arm wrapped around your hip. “I can’t take it anymore, Chris.”
You’re very close at this point, your sensations are sent into overdrive.
“You have to ask for fucking permission,” he delivers a sharp spank to your ass, abandoning your clit. “And I better hear ‘thank you.’” He has rules; you have to ask for permission to cum, tell him when, and if you’re spanked you have to say “thank you, sir” each time. His timed thrusts haven’t ceased and he’s increasing the hot, searing red marks on your supple ass. To acknowledge his rules, you utter meek thank you’s for each one. Once he feels like you’ve deserved enough, he returns his skilled fingers to your clit and the feeling slowly boils over.
“Please! Please let me cum, sir. Fuck, you feel so good inside me. I’m so close, so fucking close.”
Chris slightly presses down on your clit, sending you over the edge. Your thighs tremble, incessant moans pouring from your mouth, breathing rapidly under him.
“That’s my girl, you’re doing such a good job cumming for me.”
He doesn’t remove his fingers from your aching bundle of nerves, only quickening his motions a bit more and you know he’s close too. Your overstimulated body shakes and you can feel your own sheen of wetness coating your thighs as he’s fucking into you. His moans quickening, leaving more of his body weight on yours and using the free hand that was holding him up to grab your tits. All of this is sending you into another orgasm that’ll meet his.
“Fuck, I love you, that’s my girl, that’s my fucking baby girl,” he growls as you both release, both of your loud moans raking the room. After finishing he slowly slips from you, all the while pulling your body to his as he lays on his back and sits you half on his tall figure, cheek pressed to his chest. You’re both breathing deeply.
Chris fixates his gaze on the ceiling after realizing what he had said in your climax. It’s almost as if he’s paralyzed in fear and he knows it didn’t go unnoticed. A part of you feels hopeless afterwards. Did he mean it? Or was it just a spur in the moment, something you say just because someone would like to hear it? Did he even know you had feelings for him like that? So many burdening questions race through your already full mind. You look everywhere in the room from your place, wishing you could just be swallowed whole to never appear again, not in this life time. He hasn’t spoken up since saying that, but puts his arm around you and traces little shapes on your back.
“Now there’s something you’re thinking about.” He speaks softly.
Before you can answer or even register what Chris had said, he’s speaking again.
“I know -.. I know what I said,” there’s an audible swallow, he stops tracing and pushes your jaw up with his fingers, eyes darting with yours before leaning in to kiss you.
“Maybe,” he almost whispers, “maybe I can break the cycle with you.”
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windhamsrotunda · 2 years
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Car Rides at Midnight with Chris (from Love, Chris Ch. 1 on Wattpad).
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Pairings: Chris Motionless x You (female! reader) (in her mid 20's).
Summary: You and your boyfriend Chris take a midnight car ride into the middle of nowhere. He soon happens to find out that you're in mad love with him. (Like he didn't already know that)?
Warnings: Fluff turned into Smut, Language, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral, (male receiving), Chris being a dom, Sir Kink! (18+ Readers Only)
Word Count: 1.6k+
Midnight car rides with your boyfriend Chris were always something to look forward to, especially when it was long car drives.
Chris had woken you up by a phone call in the middle of the night, when you decided to visit your parent's house that very night he called.
''Come outside.'' He told you over the phone.
You groggily groaned, eyes gazing at the clock: ''11pm''.
''On my way.''
You tiptoed throughout the dead silent house, not wanting to wake your parents up, cracking the front entrance door of the house open, shutting it slowly on your way out. There, your boyfriend, Chris, was waiting inside his car.
He suddenly stepped out of the car, with something hidden behind his back.
''Hi, baby.'' The tall man greeted, walking over to you, leaning down and giving you a kiss on your lips.
You smiled, his tattooed inked covered hands were no longer invisible behind his back, to reveal a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a letter sealed in an envelope he had handwritten with your name on it, and chocolate.
''Chris—'' You acknowledged him in awe, feeling your face heat up, not exactly knowing how to correspond with his act of kindness.
He took a stroll over to his pitched black colored Cadillac car, opening the passenger side door and gestured for you to get in. You couldn't restrain yourself from smiling widely, walking with confidence and as you got in, your boyfriend Chris kissed you on the cheek before getting in with you to drive off in the middle of nowhere.
This time, something felt different inside of your gut, and you knew it. Mixed, yet happy emotions tied your guts in a knot as you watched your boyfriend drive on the road, with his bright headlights turned on. He placed his large hand on your inner thigh, and began to slowly rub it in figure 8 shapes. The heat between your legs were bearing, how could Chris make you feel this good without bending you over the hood of his car and fuck you?
Your thoughts poured out, and your courage built out of you, by asking:
''Chris, babe… can you please pull over?''
''Why babe?'' He questioned, looking back at you for just a second.
''Please, for me.'' Your voice a little whiny, as soon as you knew, you felt the car steer and he pulled over on the side of the road. He grabbed his phone off of the dash of his Cadillac car, and switched his flashlight on.
''Can't see for shit out here,'' He joked, chuckling heading out of the car, slamming the car door shut.
''I know.'' You replied, slipping the scrunchie that was on your wrist off, tying your colored hair back.
''So, Y/N. What is on your mind tonight?'' Chris inquired, giving his full attention to you, in a slump back position on the hood of that damn car you were thinking about earlier, arms folded tightly against his chest.
Your eyes found his in the dark, you were dumbfounded and head over heels for your quite older boyfriend, I mean, who wouldn't be already?
''I… just wanted to say…'' You trailed off, a sudden sound on the hood of the car rang through your ears. It was him patting the surface with his hand, hinting you to come closer.
''Wanted to say…?'' Chris began, trying to get the words to come out of you.
''Use your words.''
Why does he have to be so intimidating and hot?
''O-Okay. I wanted to say the way you had your hand on my thigh earlier. It made me felt..''
''Quite good?'' He finished your sentence off, reading you like a book.
How----
''Oh, yeah. Those were the two words I was looking for, thanks.'' Your face flushed a deep red, feeling embarrassed of yourself for not finishing your words like a big girl. A laugh came out of your boyfriend in return.
''I am glad I made you feel that way,'' He commented.
''Now get over here.''
You nodded, walking calmly over to Chris. He unexpectedly pulls you into this huge embrace, making you look small underneath his towering height. The two of you just stood there against the hood of his car, not a care in the world while your thoughts were beginning to calm down.
Your breathing slowed, you were in heaven to know how much Chris loved you, and how he would do anything in the world for you.
But that wasn't the only thing you had on your mind.
Probably the same for him, as well.
He spun you around to face him, slowly feeling himself lean into you. Your lips found his, and at that exact moment, you melted into his arms. His lips locked onto yours for a brief moment, which felt like forever, and proceeded to wrap your legs around his waist. Pushing you down onto the hood of his car with your legs still managing to wrap, Chris breathed out between the kiss:
''…Think we're gonna get caught out here if we take this any further?''
''No, but it's fun to be risky, right?''
''Mmm, you're right.'' He laughed breathlessly, trailing small kisses down your neck as your fingers slightly tugged onto his blonde hair, the heat in between your legs starting to get overwhelming for you again.
You felt Chris's tattooed hand reach up your Nike shorts, his long fingers fumbling with your strings attached onto your shorts. He slowly insisted to pull them completely off of you, just to realize you were not wearing underwear. He was going to make a remark, but managed to not do so. His two free fingers worked their way inside of you, with the side of his face in the crook of your neck, hot breathing onto your neck.
''A--ahh!'' Your breath hitched, throwing your head back, clutching onto his shoulder. Legs widely spread apart, you were panting like a dog as you took your boyfriend's fingers like a good girl, pounding them in and out of your pussy mercilessly, making your orgasm much bearable.
''I can't!'' You cried, Chris slowed down the pace a bit, but went faster.
''Don't. Fucking. Cum. Yet.'' He warned, his teeth sunk down on your shoulder, as a response, you wrapped your legs tightly around his neck, feeling your toes curling on top of it.
''CHRIS!'' you screamed, releasing onto his fingers, hearing him growl in frustration.
''I told you not to cum, did I?'' He deeply said, quickly pulling his fingers out and bending you over the hood of the car, like you were daydreaming about earlier.
Sound familiar?
''Y-yes.'' You choked out, favoring your aching clitoris with a closed hand for your boyfriend to not catch onto what you were doing.
But he did.
He slapped your hand away, causing you to gasp and feel the stinging pain volt through your hand.
''I also did tell you not to touch yourself without my permission, are we understood?'' The dominance within him was so hot, you thought he'd never be like this. Ever. With him in control, you second guessed yourself into him being the dominant type --- never in a million years you imagined Chris being this rough with you. He was always so gentle with you, but something snapped in him tonight for him to act this way towards you.
''Yes Chris…'' Your head fell in shame, breathing out this long, obnoxious sigh, only to get him even more annoyed than he already is with you.
''Chris?'' He asked, his skinny fingers grazed lightly over your chin, giving you a glare.
''I mean, ye-yes sir.'' You stammered in humiliation, he then brings you down to your knees by grabbing a handful of your tied back hair, pushing you down onto the freshly solid white concrete, with your bare knees being pressed deep into the cement.
''Good girl,'' He whispered, slightly smirking while the sound of him unzipping his pants rang through your ears like loud sirens.
Chris wiped his left over smeared black lipstick he was wearing onto your collarbone, just to remind you that you're his. You were thinking by the thought alone of his cock down your throat, with his hand wrapped around it, squeezing to feel his baby girl gag around him.
''Open.'' Was what he said before you opened your hollowed mouth for him to fuck it, until you start crying.
Without a warning sign given, he grabbed the back of your head, and shoved his cock down your throat, the familiar thought you were just having momentarily, turned into a reality.
Bobbing your head up and down, you tried eyeing up at him in his dark clothing, not visible enough to see his face and how he was looking, But oh my god, Chris was moaning underneath you, vocalizing these groans in his throat just enough to make him ride out his orgasm.
''F--fuck. Just li-like that baby… Ah, fuck! I'm gonna cum!'' He uttered, feeling his cock twitch inside your mouth shortly before cumming.
You pulled away, swallowing his release while you tried to catch your breath. A hand rested on the surface of your head, praising you for doing such a good job handling all of him. Chris kneeled down, planting a kiss onto your forehead. With you still on your knees, he grabbed you, pulling you up off of the ground.
''W-was I too rough?'' He asked in concern, his breathing starting to calm down a bit.
''No baby… You did so well,'' You giggled, a bead of sweat rolling down your face in the humid air.
''Let's take this one inside the car now, don't you think that would be a good idea?'' He suggested, intertwining his fingers into yours.
''That would be a great idea, actually.'' You laughed.
Chris gave you a slap on the ass, and replied:
''You know I'm going to fuck you hard right inside my car, hard enough for you to not walk the next morning when you wake up.''
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Authors Note: Likes, Reblogs or Comments are appreciated!! <3
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this is a question that ive been wanting to ask for a hot minute now, and since ive seen a lot of people on twitter (specifically bad omens twitter) talk about it recently, i thought i would ask it now. it is a genuine question and i am looking for genuine answers, so pls be real.
when did writing fanfiction become a bad thing in bandom?
i don't read fanfiction personally, but i know that it used be kind of just an accepted thing in bandom spaces. like, oh, you write fanfic about black veil brides? chill, that's whatever. but nowadays (not trying to call out anyone specific), especially on bad omens twitter, people are freaking out about the fact that fanfiction exists. when in my mind at least, it's always been there? like, fanfiction in other bandoms is kind of like an inside joke (take the milk fic, for example, or the chris motionless adopted daughter fic)
and to my knowledge, most musicians don't care about fanfiction because, again, it's kind of just always been a thing. im pretty sure it was andy biersack who said "i know there's fanfiction out there, but i don't go looking for it, because it's not for me." or something along those lines.
so seeing bad omens fans on twitter all up in arms about fanfiction, is kinda strange to me? because it's always been that thing in bandom where it's like, if you don't like it, then it wasn't made you for, and you don't have to read it?
is it just new fans not really understanding that it's just a thing? is it people who just think that it's weird? or is it people who still, for some reason, don't seem to understand that if bands are uncomfortable with something, they will say it because they're grown adults?
so if somebody could explain to me why people are just now getting upset about it, that'd be really fantastic, because im genuinely confused.
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milleeeeeee · 1 year
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u can’t tell me sirius didn’t put on Uncle Remus by Frank Zappa every chance he got just to piss of remus a little
remus secretly admires it
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th0ughts-pr4yers · 4 months
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That feeling of wanting to write and having ideas, but not having the motivation to do so sucks. Because I end up just reading instead and while that is helpful in the process and getting my own ideas flowing and also helps cure my boredom that I’m constantly experiencing, it doesn’t help in the fact that I can read a really good story and get invested in it. Then get sad if that storyline ends. Which I think happens to all of us, writers and readers included. But sometimes when I’m writing something, that’ll happen. And I’m like “Damn, I don’t really wanna end it like that.” But I have to, because writers block comes on and I just can’t write anything beyond that. I also hate having ADHD because my brain will think of cool concepts for stories to write, right? And then I’ll write it out and make it all nice and stuff, and yet leave all my other stories that I’ve been working on in the dust for months on end. All because my motivation is gone. My thoughts and ideas are always there, but it’s the motivation that’s a killer. Like I have these ideas for a really cool Chris fic, and I think it could really be something that people would enjoy. But I can’t seem to flesh it out for the LIFE of me. And I hate that. So all my ideas and stuff just sit in my notes.
Anyways, sorry for the rant lol… just needed to get my thoughts out on this.
So I promise new content is coming soon, I just gotta get past this stage.
(Enjoy these pics of Chris tho 🖤)
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ohabigailhowcouldyou · 5 months
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Candy... ~pt 1~
Being away from home sucked. Being stuck on a bus with a dozen smelly men sucked. Not having any Starburst left sucked.
Vinny groaned and rolled out of his bunk to head to the kitchenette for something sugary, bumping shoulders with Chris as he reached for Ricky's secret stash of chocolate.
"He's gonna know it's you," Chris teased, popping a raspberry into his mouth. A raspberry, Vinny thought, of all things. Couldn't the man find some vegan candy to snack on. Did it have to be something so... healthy?
"He can suck my dick," Vinny retorted, "I need sugar."
Chris raised an eyebrow, picking out another berry from his container. Without giving it conscious thought, Vinny plucked it from the taller man's fingers.
"Hey!" Chris protested, his dark eyes following the fruit's path past Vinny's lips. Vinny smirked, winked at Chris, and strolled back toward the bunks without a backward glance.
The sweetness of the raspberry lingered on Vinny's tongue, and he put the stolen candy bar aside for later. He pulled out his phone, opening Twitter -no way would he ever call it X- to mindlessly scroll until dinner time. The first thing he saw, however, chased any thought of food from his mind. He had, of course, seen this in person from a different angle while playing, but the video of Chris rolling his hips in a dirty dance with his micstand was definitely worth watching. Several times. As good as he looked from behind, there was something utterly spectacular about seeing not only Chris' body, but his face, too. Lost in the music, dimple showing as he all but snarled the lyrics, Chris was beautiful. This wasn't the first time Vinny had noticed it; touring together for a decade had given him plenty of opportunity to admire his bandmates' good looks, Chris included. It was different now though, as one of the biggest tours they've ever done was winding down, and they'd all been living like sardines for weeks now, almost no privacy, no chance for hook-ups to relieve some of the pent up frustration coiling under their skin. Arguments had been getting more frequent, tempers simmering in the Fall air, everyone on a hair trigger.
As if Vinny's spiralling thoughts had summoned him, the curtain covering his bunk was yanked aside to reveal Ricky's scowling face. Vinny quicky lowered his phone to his chest to hide the screen, plucking his Airpod out of one ear.
"Give it back," Ricky demanded, eyes dark as thunderclouds.
"Give what back?" Vinny played coy, blinking at his friend.
"The candy bar, Vin. The last dark chocolate one."
"I don't know what you're talking -" Vinny started to say, trying to surreptitiously move the candy bar lying next to him out of sight, but the movement drew Ricky's sharp eyes at just the wrong moment.
"You motherfucker," Ricky growled, leaning into Vinny's bunk to reach for the chocolate.
"Dude!" Vinny protested, shoving his hand with the candy bar under his body. Ricky had all but crawled into Vinny's bunk, his sharp elbow digging into Vin's stomach, one knee sliding against Vinny's thigh. Vinny tried to twist away from the smaller man, whose searching fingers brushed dangerously close to Vin's crotch, still tight from the video he'd been looping seconds ago.
"Just give it back, you dick." Ricky's breath was warm on Vinny's cheek.
"Watch your tongue, Richard," Vinny mocked, squirming under Ricky's hands, he could feel the candy bar get squashed under his hip.
"Fuck you," it was a snarl, Ricky's low voice close to his ear, and the sound made goosebumps erupt across Vinny's skin. For a second, Ricky went still, then without warning, he plucked Vinny's phone from his slack grip.
"No!" Vinny protested, fingers grabbing at Ricky's delicate wrist.
"What, were you watching porn or something?" There was a mocking quality to Ricky's voice. He twisted against Vinny's hold on him to turn the phone's screen toward himself, the Werewolf video still looping, keeping the screen from locking like it would have otherwise. Ricky's eyebrows shot up, lips parting in surprise.
"Close enough," he said, dark amusement in his tone.
Vinny could feel the heat of a blush on his cheeks. He tightened his grip on Ricky's wrist, feeling the other man's pulse against his calloused fingertips.
"Give back my phone, or you're not gonna enjoy playing the next show with broken wrist." Vinny had only rarely heard himself speak like that, low and threatening.
For a second, the two men sized each other up, pent up frustration and anger shimmering in the air between them like a heatwave over concrete.
"You don't have it in you, Vincenzo," Ricky finally broke the silence, that dark edge still in his husky voice.
Vin leaned up on one elbow, and slowly pressed down on his friend's wrist, harder and harder, until he could feel the bones grinding together. It had to have hurt, but Ricky only curled his lip in an empty smile, icy gaze not wavering from Vin's face. Finally, it became too much, and Vinny let go. Ricky was right, he didn't have it in him to hurt someone, least of all a friend. For a second, something deeper that anger flashed across Ricky's face, followed by a hiss of air through his teeth as he wiggled Vin's phone to flex his wrist.
Vinny tossed the candy bar, a little the worse for wear, in Ricky's direction. "Give me back my phone."
Ricky held it out to him, but snatched it back at the last second as Vinny reached for it.
"On second thought... Maybe it's a fair exchange? If this is what you're watching, alone in your bunk, what other dirty secrets wait to be discovered?"
Something cold trailed down Vinny's spine. "Stop fucking around, Rick. Give it back."
Ricky raised an eyebrow, thumb swiping at the screen, closing the video of Chris to show his twitter feed again.
Vinny grabbed at him again, but Ricky was faster this time, folding his arm behind him, where Vinny couldn't reach, confined by his bunk and Ricky's slight form.
"What about a different trade? I'll even throw in the candy bar, if that'll sweeten the deal."
"What do you want?" Vin asked, impatient with annoyance.
Ricky's lips curled in a frightening simile of a smile.
"I want a blow job."
For the tiniest fraction of a second, Vinny felt the swoop of the Earth tilting on its axis below him, before he managed to get a handle on his reaction to Ricky's blunt words.
"Oh, sorry," he said, voice sour. "You must be mistaking me for a groupie. I'm not."
"You sure about that?" Ricky's low, quiet voice was mocking. "Let's see, shall we? Aside from that dirty video you were just watching, what else could be on your phone to prove you wrong?"
"Stop fucking around, Rick," Vinny repeated, knowing the moment the words left his lips that he'd fucked up, giving himself away.
Ricky's expression was triumphant as he brought Vinny's phone out from behind his back. Vinny, using reflexes built up over decades behind a drum kit, swung out of his bunk and onto his feet, letting his momentum crash him into the smaller man. One hand again seized the wrist of the hand holding his phone, while his other fisted around the collar of Ricky's black t-shirt, shoving him back against the opposite wall of bunks.
Ricky exhaled in clear shock at Vinny's reaction, eyes wide, free hand grabbing at Vinny's shoulder as he was crushed between the drummer and the bunks behind him.
"I told you to. Stop. Fucking. Around. Ricky." Vinny hissed each word in Ricky's face, grip tightening cruelly on Ricky's wrist, not letting up this time, even as Ricky made a pained noise, trying to pull free.
Except...
Several things registered in Vinny's overheating brain at the same time. While Ricky was trying to pull his one arm free, his other hand had found its way to the back of Vinny's neck, fingertips tangling in the curls there. And Ricky's body, where it was pressed against Vinny's from shoulder to knee, wasn't straining away from him, but toward him. The last thing Vinny realized before his mind completely short circuited, was that Ricky was hard, as hard as Vinny himself was.
He couldn't say who moved first, only that they both froze for an endless moment before they were kissing. It wasn't sweet or gentle, lips and tongues and teeth clashing in a sloppy, messy fight for control over each other. Vinny gave as good as he got, releasing Ricky's collar to curl his fingers around that beautifully tattooed throat, and Ricky moaned, filthy and shameless, into his mouth, moving his hips against Vinny's with increasing desperation.
Panting for breath, Vinny was the one who broke the kiss, to trail his lips and tongue down over Ricky's sharp jaw, to explore the skin of his throat, moving his hand around to cup the back of Ricky's neck. How many times had he let his gaze linger over the inked skin, wondering what this would feel like? What his friend would taste like? No fantasy he'd ever had could hold a candle to the reality of Ricky's pulse thundering against his lips, the sweet, salt taste of him as Vinny dragged his tongue over his adam's apple, the little gasping noises Ricky made when Vinny bit down over his jugular.
Ricky's hand, knotted in Vinny's hair, tugged painfully to bring Vinny's mouth back to his own, where he bit down sharply on Vin's bottom lip, drawing a growl from his throat. Vinny pinned Ricky's arm that he was still holding above Ricky's head, tugging the man's other hand up to join it. He easily circled both Ricky's wrists with the fingers of one of his hands, plucking his phone out of Ricky's grip and sliding it into his pocket, before curling his arm around Ricky's waist and down, to cup his ass. As slight as Ricky was, Vinny's fingers could easily seek out every denim-covered dip and valley.
Even like this, pinned and trapped, Ricky didn't back down, nipping painfully at Vinny's lips and tongue, until Vinny pulled his head back, grinning.
"Sucks to be you, huh?" He asked.
Ricky frowned, breathless and flushed. "What?"
"You're not getting that blow job after all," Vinny said, matter-of-factly. "And you don't have anything left to blackmail me with."
"I don't..." Ricky blinked slowly, as if his brain was only just catching up to the situation. His eyes flickered up to where Vinny was still pinning his empty hands above his head. "Oh."
Vinny had expected anger, hot and acidic, so the look of bleak disappointment that flashed over Ricky's face caught him completely off guard. Ricky tugged against his grip, not meeting his eyes, but Vinny didn't release him.
"Let go, Vin," Ricky said, the fight gone from his voice, from his body, still hard where it pressed against Vinny's, only now held rigidly still.
Vinny didn't. Instead he leaned forward, trying to get Ricky to meet his eyes. A quick questioning glance was all he got, before Ricky looked away again, lids lowered. "Let go," he repeated.
For a second, Vinny debated with himself on what to do, then slowly, he pulled his arm from around Ricky and released his grip on the other man's wrists. Ricky let his arms fall, an almost silent sigh escaping his lips. Instead of stepping away, Vinny brought both hands up to cup Ricky's face. He got a glimpse of wide blue eyes, before he closed his own and leaned in to kiss Ricky again.
It was very different from the angry, biting kisses they'd shared minutes ago. This was slow and sweet, Ricky's lips parting for him without a fight, letting their tongues tangle and taste each other together. He felt Ricky's hands resting lightly on his sides, not demanding, just touching in a way that had Vinny's heart squeeze painfully against his ribs.
If it were up to him, Vinny would have spent the rest of his life right there, kissing the man in his arms. Unfortunately, it wasn't up to him, or Ricky for that matter.
"Guys, have you - oh shit." Chris' voice pulled them apart, and Vinny turned to see him standing, wide eyed, in the narrow doorway between the bus' lounge and the bunk area. "Fuck, I'm not sure what I just interrupted, but uh... I'm sorry?"
Vinny was mildly surprised that they hadn't been interrupted much earlier, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He gave Ricky a quick smile as he stepped away from him. He hoped that it conveyed what he couldn't put into words right then. The tiny smirk on Ricky's lips made him think that his message had been conveyed at least somewhat successfully.
He answered Chris while he scooped the abandoned candy bar off the floor. "I was just paying for this."
♡♡♡
Read part 2 here
♡♡♡
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lil-melody-moon · 7 months
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I went for an age gap fic, letting my love towards old Paulie show way too much, but oh well. Here, a sweet fic with old Paul McCartney x Female Reader. It's a fic with a big age gap, but I just couldn't help myself! There's so little works about this lovely grandpa. I had to write one. Enjoy <3
Likes, reblogs, kudos and comments are appreciated <3
Title: Don't Steal This Old Man's Heart
Summary: You were promised that your fiance will change, but everything points out to be different. There comes a night when he takes you to the restaurant, but instead of spending time with you, he goes to entertain himself with other woman. Sitting at the table in a rich restaurant, abandoned by your fiance, you start paying attention to the piano and the pianist that couldn't resist but play something at the sight of said instrument.
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fangirl94stuff · 9 months
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Working on 3 new Motionless In White fanfictions :)
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