🦷

WARNINGS. fem reader. singer!reader if you squint. biting. smut. size kink. predator/prey kink. established relationship. pain kink.

you don’t usually show up to a shoot, you’ve got better things to do than hang around and take up space in a work environment. this was an exception—no, an exception of an exception. powers of freak nature have landed you in the studio where black veil brides is finishing up some shots for their latest video for the day. you figured you’ll stick around for a second, give ANDY BIERSACK a little good-luck-kiss and be out of the way.

“just hang out for a second, okay? it’ll just be a second.” he rambled to you before they whisked him away, now you’re wandering around until the lights focus and someone’s yelling, “and… action!” music through the speakers blare. over the crew’s shoulders, you see andy in the center of the set. he’s wearing that outfit that makes him look huge, larger-than-life as he goes through his cues deliberately and gracefully. it’s like he was born into it. he’s honest, he’s committed, he’s unafraid to move his face even if it looks a little crazy. the lighting compliments blue eyes, defining them electrically. you’re mesmerized. but you hone in on his mouth, his tongue curling up and over a line of perfect pearly teeth, teeth adorned by silvery jewelry—fanged grillz. you only get to see what feels like thirty seconds, as soon as cut is called, the crew moves as a single entity, reversing everything until they’re ready for the next take.

once andy gets a break, he side steps his way through the masses to get to you, following you to a lesser populated corner. “what’s all this?” you inquire coyly, gesturing with a single finger spinning around.

“we’re almost done. you wanna grab something to eat after this—?” your eyes narrow at him while he talks to you, his lips fit awkwardly around the silver pieces, the point of the fangs overlapping his bottom one to sink into the pink plushness of it. you can hear it in the way he talks around them rather than with them, the faintest of lisps. all these details would be virtually undetectable if you didn’t know him like you do.

“yeah, yeah, sounds good.” you reply vaguely with the wave of your hand. as you step closer to him, he mirrors you, not a foot away from each other in this more secluded area. it’s written all over his face, he can sense you’re up to something, lending his ear, watching you with that electric glint in his eyes. you point to his mouth, “can you, uh, can you keep these in?” . . .

“what’s it like to kiss these things?” the question is breathlessly asked by the man with his hair in your hand and his spit-soaked lips swollen from the pressure.

“weird.” you answer just as winded, eager to continue as you swallow his grunt of surprise, mounting his mouth as you shove your tongue unceremoniously in, hoping for a taste of steel. his hands feel giant against your ass, lifting you as you force his neck to tip back. you grip harder onto the front of his top, pulling him impossibly close as you try to grind down. the grasp he has on you reads what you’re trying to do, and help your hips along by matching your enthusiasm, humping your pussy against nothing when you’re raised over his lap like this. you whine as you’re teased.

he rears, breaking the kiss as he ducks around your shoulder, checking for obstacles before he gets up and brings you with him. you squeak as you’re raised instantly, clutching onto him and looking down at the floor at his height. he spins with you in hand until he can plant your behind on where he used to sit. once again, andy’s no stranger to getting you on your back, laying you out while you hear the familiar sound of his hand going for his belt. matching him, you wiggle out of your bottoms. a lazy and overactive tongue winds around the corner of your mouth to clean the drool that collected there as you listen to him fish himself out of his jeans. “go faster—“ you rush, but since he doesn’t have a free hand to clap over your noisy complaining, he feeds his tongue into your mouth again. if you didn’t like him so much, you’d think this brand of frenching would be too messy, but you moan in eye-rolling content when he fucks the back of your throat. he’s just giving you something to focus on.

a welcome prodding greets the hole of your pussy, searching for the give as you detach to yap at him one more time. “oh, jesus christ, andy, just bite me—!”