The greenroom was shrouded in cigarette smoke and the pungent tang of liquor and sweat as the men debriefed after their show.
Crew members walked in and out and the constant entrance of new characters into what was meant to be a sacred space to unwind was starting to get to Peter.
The lights were suddenly too bright, the chatter was too loud and if one more person with a camera pushes that goddamn door open—
“Hey! Shut the fucken door!” He booms from his place on the couch.
“Okay, okay, sorry.” The techie chuckles humourlessly which only served to sour his already touchy mood.
A few minutes go by and his conversation is interrupted yet again by a knock on the door. He turns with a pointed finger to instinctively scold whoever was about to intrude but when the thick wood creaks open and he’s met with your face, everything falls away.
His eyes soften, the tension in his brows melts, and he’s reaching for you.
You shoot him a small, understanding smile and shuffle forward to grab his outstretched hand while he leans forward to set his drink down.
The second your fingers touch, he’s pulling you into his lap and burying his face in your neck. His long hair filling any gaps there would’ve been for outsiders to catch a peak into the little sanctuary he has built himself within you and you feel him breath deep.
Your hands sliding around him is grounding and he responds by tightening his grip on you in tandem.
Looking around, the conversations haven’t stopped but his bandmates cast knowing smirks over at the sight of their  temperamental frontman being reduced to a damn slinky now that you’ve arrived.
“You good?” You turn your head as much as you can to whisper.
“Got everything I need, sweetheart.” You feel his voice against your skin before you actually register the words. Like he’s engraving them into you.
I graduated high school yesterday can I have some soft dom Peter Steele fluff pleaseeeeee
A/n: So, I'm almost a full year late to this... Hope you're, uh, doing well outside of high school... Also, sorry this is kinda short I find fluff kinda hard to write bc, like, nothing happens... I hope you like this either way :')
Warnings: None, just fluff!
You let out a heavy exhale as you sat down, the weight you'd been carrying around with you finally falling off.
Your head fell back, you let your eyes close, inhaling deeply now. "Is this what we're doing now?" Your behemoth of a boyfriend asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Not even asking for permission, you just do as you please?"
You nodded, comfortable in his lap. "If you're gonna be this big and this comfortable, I'm going to sit my ass right here at every possible moment." He exhaled a short laugh, resting his head on yours as it lay on his shoulder, familiar green shirt almost cartoonish as he wore one of a similar shade and style every single day.
"You're right, it's all my fault." He relented, rubbing your hips soothingly. He kissed your hair sweetly before bringing his lips down to your ear. "Should've cut my legs off at the knees when I had the chance." You chuckled at that, hands finding his for a moment. "But then, I guess I'd have to give this up, wouldn't I?" He thought for a moment before shaking his head.
Peter kissed your hair again, but he didn't pull away much to speak this time, deep voice coming out rough and gravely as always. "No... No, I wouldn't like that at all."
You inhaled sharply again, willing your body to move. You lurched forwards, Peter gripped your hips tighter to keep you in place, thinking you were trying to get up.
You turned the TV on and found a good show, not letting the volume get too loud to keep with the neutral atmosphere. "Oh, we're doing this now, too?" He asked, pulling you back against him. He took the remote from you and set it aside. "Give me an elastic." He muttered.
You handed him the one you kept on your wrist, not thinking anything of it. He pushed you forwards some and ran his fingers through your hair, combing it before parting it.
You giggled, not minding him playing with your hair. "Sisters gave me good practice." He muttered, parting your hair into sections. "Your hair's soft... smells good, too." He murmured.
A/n: This idea randomly came to me so…enjoy this short sweet fluff with no plot just vibes!
Pairings: Peter Steele x Wife!Reader
Warnings/tags: fluff, domestic life, you and peter live in a cottage on the Oregon coast, inspired by Summer Breeze obvi, age gap (not specified but I envision reader being younger than him), mentions of smut, nixon being a nuisance

The salty air blew through the open window in the kitchen. You were cooking spaghetti on the stove, stirring the sauce in with the noodles. You had on a simple dress, something cute but comfy to wear around the house.
Checking the clock, it was 5 o’clock sharp which meant Peter was going to be home soon. You always love anticipating the moments before he comes home, gives you a sort of adrenaline rush. Especially when you know what’s going to happen later that night.
Outside in the calm summer breeze, Peter made his way up to the porch before unlocking the door and heading inside. His footsteps are heavy as he walked across the wood floors. He could smell a mix of Oregon coastal air with spaghetti. Smiling softly he headed towards the kitchen.
When he saw you at the stove, his heart melted. You were too adorable, humming one of his songs softly as you prepared dinner. In his older age, he felt like all he went through led up to this moment. All the hardship he faced now rewarding him with a peaceful domestic life.
You jumped when his arms wrapped around you. “You’re home.” You say with a warm smile.
“I missed you.” The bassist responded, kissing your neck making you giggle at the tickling sensation from his beard.
“I missed you too. Sometimes it’s lonely when you’re not here.”
“Only sometimes?”
“Well I do like my alone time.” You teased.
Peter threw his head back with a laugh.
Once dinner was ready the two of you sat at the kitchen table, talking about your day while enjoying the home cooked meal. The waves crashed outside against the rocks, the sky turning a beautiful purple as the sun began to set.
One of the cats, Nixon, hopped on the table and the two of you playfully shooed him away. “He’s always trying to get our food!” You giggle.
“The mix of wet and dry food isn’t good enough for him anymore. He’s so spoiled.” Peter responded with a smile.
Later that night, your husband carried you up to your guys’ bedroom to ravish your entire body, making you feel even more loved than you already had before.
Lying in bed in your skimpy, green lingerie you hid from Peter for a while now. You always wanted to wear it but scared of what Peter thought. It was his favorite color so that’s why you bought it. Another reason is that you hope right when he sees is, he’ll pound into you immediately.
Peter was always gone on tours or doing interviews, even at the studio doing songs just hanging out with the rest of Type O. But tonight, he promised you he’d be home early. Candles were lit around you, rode pedals everywhere, and the smell of vanilla. You waited patiently and nervously until you heard a deep voice.
“Where you at, darling!” Right when you looked up he was starting at you, admiring how beautiful you are. You blushed deeply
————————————————————————
Laying on top of him, breathing hard. No way were you gonna be able to walk tomorrow after what he did to you. He kissed your temple and mumbled, deeply. “I love you baby” … “I love you, more Peter”
so happy you’re accepting requests for Peter!!!! Is it okay if I ask for a fluffy dad Peter x mom reader his wife is holding their baby girl watching from the side stage and is learning how to walk so in between songs his baby girl takes her first steps to him onstage! He’d be such a proud girl dad!💚
Freya
dividers by @troublesomesnitch Peter Steele masterlist
Peter Steele x f!reader
A/N: this is so fucking sweet omg!! The fact that Peter thought about being a dad a lot too. He would’ve been such a cute girl dad🖤
❈Just a fluffy little fic about you and Peter’s daughter taking her first steps on stage. No use of y/n, no physical description of the reader. I chose the daughter’s name after a goddess from Norse mythology. ~800 words
The guys are about halfway through their set and your little girl is getting more and more restless. She's squirming where she sits on your hip. She's already a total daddy's girl, and seeing him so close but out of reach has her fighting to break free from your hold. The big headphones protecting her ears are only serving to piss her off more.
Her tiny hands would reach out and she'd grunt and whine, crying out for him.
Peter heard her once in between songs and he turned to look at the two of you, smiling. A smile he gave very few people, but one that Freya always got to see.
She's already big for her age, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep a handle on her. When you’ve finally had enough, you set her down in front of you. She was beginning to try to walk but she could only stand with the help from you or Peter, or a piece of furniture nearby.
You figured she wouldn't be able to get that far, and then the next thing you knew, she was crawling over to a spare piece of equipment, hauling herself up.
Then she was steadying herself, and taking her first steps towards her father.
You stood there in shock as you watched it happen, not even sure what to do.
The band is in between songs when they notice her. The expression on Peter’s face is one you want to remember for the rest of your life.
He’s pure shock and pride as he takes off his bass and hands it to one of the guys working sound. He walks over to her and she’s tiny next to him as he bends down and scoops her up into his arms.
His hand is basically the size of her as he walks towards the mic, and the muscles in his arm flex slightly as he holds her. You’re hit with a wave of emotion you can’t even really describe, like your heart is breaking but in the best way possible. Like it’s opening up.
“This is Freya.” His deep voice fills the room, he lets people cheer before he continues, “Turns out, she wanted to take her first steps in front of an audience.”
The crowd erupts at that. He bounces her a little, smiling and kissing her on the cheek. She turns her head and hides her face in his neck, making everyone melt and fawn over her.
He turns and walks towards you and you come out on stage to meet him. You try not to look at the crowd, feeling so awkward in front of so many people. You just look at him, holding the child he gave you.
He passes her down into your arms.
He leans down and gives you a quick kiss. His hand lingers, holding your chin as he strokes his thumb over your cheek bone. It’s only a second, but you feel like time stands still for a moment before he turns back to grab his bass.
You feel your face burn as you smile and bite your lip, turning quickly to walk back offstage with Freya.
They finish their set, and the whole time Peter keeps turning to look at the two of you, like he can’t wait to be with you.
-
When they get backstage everyone erupts.
“Yeahhh! First steps! First steps!” Kenny chants and the rest of the guys join in. They surround Peter as he holds Freya, their excitement makes her laugh and she claps her tiny hands.
You guys hang out backstage for a while after. Everyone’s goofing off and laughing. Peter’s still holding his little girl. You’re next to him, smiling as you watch them together.
He had loved her before she was even born. When you were further along, he had always held and kissed your stomach. Your favorite was when he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around you, his large strong hands holding the child inside of you.
It was so nice having that weight you carried around all day lifted for at least a little while. It was just so sweet too, such soft moments between the two of you; or the three of you. You loved how he would hold you and your child at the same time, the way he’d smell and kiss the top of your head.
You’re lost in thought as you look at them, how happy he looks with her.
He turns to you and puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Someone tells a joke and everyone laughs. He bounces Freya slightly on his knee and you play with her little fingers, the both of you cuddled into him, swept up in his arms.
HEEHEE thank u for requesting this I loved writing it sm <3
synopsis: nora and peter reunite on howard htern to put their infamous feud to rest, but an on-air stunt leaves nora more flustered than ever and peter unexpectedly comes to her defense once again.
start here: chapter 1 & chapter 2 & chapter 3
wc: 4280
tags: enemies to friends to lovers; slowburn; mdni; peter steele/OC
a/n: sorry for the delay! i hated writing this chapter as i hate howard stern, and also feel like the premise was a little cringey... but we have to get through the bad to get to the smut, right? thanks as always for reading.
thanks to @worldcomingdowner for editing and please go read her fics once you finish mine!
pic on pinterest and divider here
Carnivore by Carnivore
“Oh my god you bitch! You’re seeing him again?” your sister Angie bombarded you over the phone after you told her you’d be on Stern with Steele.
“Yes, I just got confirmation from Larry, who arranged this whole thing, that he has agreed to go on Stern with me to “clear the air”. So I was calling to ask you if you could get work off and would want to-” you were cut off by her shrieking, relieved a little that she didn’t catch your minor white lie.
“Oh my god yes, yes. I will absolutely get work off. When?”
“Next Tuesday is when they were able to rearrange some things to squeeze us in. But I have to get there by 5 to be on around 7 so it will be an early one. You’ll have to stay at least the night before in the city with me.”
“Oh my god. That is no problem. I will get Sara Beth to cover me. Oh my god. This is so amazing. I can’t wait to tell Danny, he’ll have to take care of the dog anyway. Wait, I have to call Sara Beth and find coverage and do some laundry. I’ll call you back, ok? We can get room service!”
“Yeah, talk to you later, bye.” she hung up on you before you finished your sentence.
That went well. You went from forgetful sister to sister of the year in one call. You wondered if you should warn Peter about Angie, but thought it would be funnier to just let her loose. You’re sure he was used to it. You hadn’t mentioned the coffee to her, worried it could somehow complicate things even further.
Angie was a hairdresser and really good at it too. Not only was she great at the cosmetology aspect but she was confident and friendly and a great salesperson. She had been a metalhead since high school, much to your traditional Catholic parent’s dismay, getting into Metallica and then finding more and more bands to follow around until she met Danny who reigned her in a little bit. Danny had been a drummer in some local bands but now was a math teacher at the hometown high school.
___
Tuesday finally came and it was too early. Your call time for the morning radio show, which was filmed apparently so you had to look presentable as well, was early even for you. Luckily you had your stylist throw together some “effortless” looks for you, you ended up in a pleated mini skirt with a tight striped cardigan, sheer tights and platform mary janes. It kind of put you out of your comfort zone but the purpose was to look “appealing” and that outfit certainly did the trick.
Angie was another story. She kept you up late most of the night asking questions about Peter and the show and what to expect. She then got up earlier than you to loudly get herself ready and take up the bathroom all morning. It felt just like high school again, kind of fun and nostalgic, mostly annoying.
Julian had taken you both out to dinner at a new place where he knew the chef. It was the kind of place where most of the food was reimagined versions of other food, like the salmon was actually watermelon made to look like salmon and the ice cream sundae was actually mashed potatoes and gravy meant to look like an ice cream sundae, very trendy. It was the kind of thing that Julian was into, but you and Angie, not so much.
This was his attempt to impress you both so you pretended like you were enjoying it, while Angie did her best to chew and swallow her meal and any outbursts that could come from her interactions with Julian. Angie was not Julian’s biggest fan and this was sure to be more fodder for the file she kept in her head labeled “DUMP HIM” where she mentally stored every single way he has ever let you down for the singular purpose of never letting you forget it.
Afterward you and Angie ordered trays of food from room service and joked about what our mom would say about what we were eating.
But the two of you made it there. While you had your own team prepping you in the green room, she was trying not to fall asleep and ruin her make up. When you were finally ready you asked if she wanted to go and meet Pete. She was determined to play it cool.
She suggested you surprise him with coffee and you pretended you didn’t know how he liked it (two creams, three sugars). You stopped at the cart in the hall to grab three coffees and you made sure to get an extra handful of cream and sugars “just in case”.
You found his room a little ways down the hall and his door was open. You knocked lightly on the door as best as you could with your overfull hands before poking your head in. He was resting on the shabby couch with his head on the lap of an admittedly stunning redheaded woman with his long legs hanging over the armrest of the other end. She looked pissed to have people coming by and disturbing him.
She was perfectly made up, with long, shiny hair, and looked every bit the it girl or model. You stood there awkwardly, suddenly aware you'd barged into their morning, and hated the shooting stab of jealousy that you got from looking at her.
“Oh shit! So sorry! The door was open so I was just going to say hi. We can come ba-” You stage whispered to her. Pete started awake with a slight gasp. He looked around the room and saw you peering in the door with your hands full.
“Oh hey, come in, come in, please. I was just resting a little.” He said, sitting up and running his hand over his face. “This is my girlfriend Melissa.” he said, putting an arm around her. She smiled a brief half smile that didn’t touch her eyes and mumbled a terse “hi”. Peter had not mentioned having a girlfriend.
“Oh hi, I’m Nora..” You stood awkwardly with your full hands and looked at the two of them for a moment.
“And we brought you coffee, as a thank you for doing all this.” Angie asserted and as soon as she said it you realized there wouldn’t be enough for Melissa.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t know that um, well you can have mine I haven’t drank any of it yet or anything.” you muttered
The creamers and sugars clattered out from your hands onto the coffee table and you tried to hand the coffees to them. Peter took his graciously and started gathering his accouterments while Melissa informed you she “doesn’t drink that stuff because it stains your teeth” in a Brooklyn accent that matched his. It took you a moment to recover before you remembered your purpose for the visit.
“Oh, um, Peter, this is my sister Angie, she is a huge fan. We were wondering if you’d sign her CDs.” As the words came out of your mouth you felt like an embarrassing fangirl yourself. You couldn’t be more relieved that she had left the playgirl at home, not that you thought he would turn it away. This was not really going how you expected it. Peter’s charm immediately turned on and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
“Angie, good to meet you.” He said as he stood up and shook her hand making very intense eye contact with her. “I’m happy to sign anything you want, you just have to answer a question for me.”
Angie’s pale Irish skin had taken on a shade of crimson I hadn’t seen since the summer she forgot to reapply her tanning lotion at the family reunion. “What do you want to know?” she managed to flirt back blatantly in front of his girlfriend. This was her only chance, you supposed.
“Nora told me your dad would make her do pushups before she was allowed to play Elanor Rigby on the piano. Is that true?” he asked with genuine curiosity as he grabbed a black marker off a table nearby.
“She told you that? Yes that’s true, it’s still a house rule at our parents’ if anyone wants to play Elanor Rigby they have to do 20 pushups.” She laughed, Peter did too, boisterously, as he signed her CDs. “It hasn’t been enforced in awhile, though. I don’t remember that coming up on Letterman.”
You couldn’t help panicking internally and did your best to make eye contact with him to make something up and hoped his girlfriend wouldn’t catch on either. You had no idea what he’d told her or whether she knew about the coffee.
“Oh, uh she mentioned it in the green room before the show.” He said surprisingly convincingly, like it wasn’t the first time he’s had to come up with a quick lie in the past to soothe a sticky situation.
After that, some of the tension in the room broke and we were all able to shoot the shit a little more breezily. Melissa didn’t say much though. Maybe she was just tired and you hadn’t actually offended her by coming in to have some CDs signed. Angie had calmed down some and was on a roll chatting effervescently with Peter, as naturally as if he was just some guy in the local metal scene.
“How are you feeling about the show?” he asked, directing his attention to you.
“Uh… tired,” you laughed. “Mostly ready to just put this whole thing behind me so I can focus on my actual job.”
“Oh yes, exactly what a non “uptight prig” would say.” your sister butted in.
“Oh, thanks Angie, very helpful input.” you said sarcastically.
“Sorry, I just meant, as to like, bring awareness, since you're trying not to act like that or whatever.” she mumbled.
“Hey, you’ll do great. Just relax a little” Pete intervened squeezing your shoulder, Melissa rolled her eyes.
“Sorry, you’re right.” you said, fighting the urge to chew on your pinky nail, embarrassed they had to witness that sisterly tiff.
“No problem at all, I got five sisters. If I don’t have women bickering around me I’m honestly more unsettled than when I do.” he said trying to be reassuring. You laughed but Angie knew to reign it back in.
You and Peter were given your 5 minute warning before you went on. You walked Angie back to your greenroom and watched the monitor, quickly checking yourself in the mirror while you waited to be called in.
“Everyone, up next, we have some special guests on today to clear the air here about some uhhhh, miscommunication here, if you will.” Howard Stern said into the studio mic his eyes barely visible behind his dark sunglasses and shaggy hair. “Make sure you are tuned in after this break to find out who.”
He was the charismatic, curly headed shock jock who had continued this unwanted negative press. You were more than ready to move on, but first you had to prove him wrong, you weren’t uptight. You could be plenty of fun, even at seven in the morning after being awake for hours and getting no sleep.
You and Peter were led to your respective seats to be touched up and lit in a matter of a few minutes while the ads aired. You discreetly made sure your skirt had ridden up to expose more of the meat of your thighs than you would normally. Unsure whether the cameras would pick it up since you were seated at a studio desk, but you thought it might help keep you in character as someone relaxed and sexy.
The ‘ON AIR’ light flashed again as the break ended and the producer counted down to being back on.
“A while ago on this show, I made a crack about actress Nora Byrne. Called her an ‘uptight prig’,” Stern said matter of factly into the mic, “and Peter Steele here immediately shut me down and defended her. So today they’ve come together, very classy, to clear the air and show the public there’s no bad blood. Nora Byrne, Peter Steele. Thanks for being here.”
“Thanks for having us on here, to uh, clear the air.” you said breezily.
“Yeah, happy to be back.” Peter said.
“Before we kick this off… Nora, I owe you an apology. Last time Pete was here, I called you an uptight prig. Yeah, yeah, I know, and he basically told me I was full of crap. So, here it is: I’m sorry. I misread you.” Stern said with only the slightest tinge of insincerity. You guessed it was as good as it could get.
“Aww, Howard I appreciate you saying that.” you said sweetly “And I want to apologize to you for calling you an old creep.”
Stern laughed, surprised, “I didn’t know you called me that...”
“Well, yeah I didn’t broadcast it for national syndication.” You said with a smirk.
“Well, it sounds like we’re even then.” He said wryly, “What about you and Steele after your physical altercation on Letterman? You’re clearly not one to get on the wrong side of.”
“Listen,” Peter said,” We’re good. Honestly, Nora is a professional actor and I’m a professional chump. I couldn’t help pushing her buttons and so I was put in my place. Honestly, I probably deserved worse.”
“Pete, I’m sorry too, I don’t usually resort to physical violence live on national television.” You laughed and so did everyone else in the studio.
“This is beautiful. Look at this: peace in our time.” Stern said with a laugh. “And, of course I must extend my congratulations to you, Nora, on your Oscar nom. Nothing to sniff at this early in your career.”
“Well, honestly, I’m just honored that I was even nominated.” You said, probably the most honest things you had said in one of these interviews. You were still trying to piece together what you did to be living your dreams.
“Now, Miss Byrne, I think the only thing more shocking than your assault on Mr. Steele was your knowledge of the Type O Negative discography. Are you a closet metalhead?” Stern asked.
“That is a very good question.” You rolled your eyes. “I am not, but my sister Angie is and she is a very big Type O fan. She came today to support me and more importantly get her CD signed.”
“Nora, if you want me to sign your CD, you don’t have to get your sister to ask for you, you can just ask me. I’ll sign whatever you want.” Peter smirked.
“Oh wow, thanks for clearing that up, next time I’ll bring my playgirl." you said and the guys laughed.
“Actually, Peter I have mine right here, could you sign it for me?” Stern joked.
“Of course Howard, anything for you.” Peter winked.
“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, Nora, I wanted to ask if you’ve listened to any of Peter’s earlier work, with his other bands?”
“Howard, I can confidently say that I have not.” you replied with a shit eating grin.
“Oh, I was hoping you would say that, because I was wondering if you would play a little game with us. I want to play you a song by his band Carnivore,” you could see Peter wince a little out of the corner of your eye as Stern revealed his game. “And have you, uh give us your analytical take as you listen.”
“Sounds like fun, I’m game.” You said with an eyebrow arched, you had no idea what they would play for you but you were eager to play along and get his approval. Peter ran his hand through his hair, suddenly appearing to lose his cool.
“Now people, Carnivore is not for the faint of heart. We won't even be able to play the song for you on the radio, so Nora, you’re going to have to be really descriptive, for our audience’s enjoyment.” Stern encouraged.
A production assistant handed you a set of chunky headphones which you placed over your ears snuggly.
“Oooh, Sony, fancy.” you said distractedly acknowledging the portable disk player, making the guys chuckle.
“Yeah, be careful with that thing, it costs a fortune.” Stern said and you pretended you couldn’t hear him, earning another chuckle from the guys.
“Ok, Nora, the song we are playing for you is called Carnivore and it’s by the band Carnivore, off their debut album, you guessed it, Carnivore.” Stern explained, Peter was glancing toward the exit signs in the room.
“Wow, very original” you quipped. Peter rolled his eyes
You pressed play on the portable player. The headphones immediately blared loud, heavy, doomy riffs with taunting drums, causing you to jump at the sudden sound so early in the morning, you moved quickly to switch the volume down with the little dial. The guys laughed at your expense and you couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself.
“Certainly wouldn’t be my first choice to listen to first thing in the morning.” you admitted. “No offense, Pete.”
“None taken, wouldn’t be mine either.” Peter replied in his sardonic way.
Greetings and felicitations
Children of technology!
“Well, the narrator here seems incredibly polite and cordial.” you said sarcastically, expecting the worst, "He's giving a very polite introduction for those in the audience. Peter, is that you singing I assume?”
“Guilty.” Peter said with a goofy grin. He had his hand covering his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reaction. You knew if this song was too offensive for Stern to play on the radio it was probably all down hill from here.
The band got louder, heavier and faster.
Drool dripping out, my tongue hanging south
Saliva flowing free
My eyes full of lust, my balls gonna bust
Give yourself to me
Your jaw hit the floor. You didn’t have a mirror but you could feel yourself immediately going pink at the lyrics. Your hand slapped over your mouth and you laughed at how lewd this song already was.
“Um,” you said with an embarrassed giggle, “Well, it sounds as though our narrator has gotten a little more forward with his, um… cravings?”
The guys were enjoying watching your reaction. Peter was squirming in his seat, but still couldn’t help laughing at you. His twinkly grin was causing something to flutter inside you somewhere but you swatted that feeling away.
Thirst I can't quench, c'mere, you wench
There's something I need
“Ok, well now he’s calling me a wench, so much for the courteous introduction.” you laughed.
Carnivore, I'm a meat-eater
Carnivore, I'd like to meet ya
Carnivore, I know I'll reach ya
Carnivore
“Ok, given the title of the song I will assume he is more interested in m-e-a-t-i-n-g me than m-e-e-t-i-n-g me.” you joked
“Yeah, we wanted to leave that up for the listener’s interpretation, but the next few verses might clear that up for you as well.” Peter said, scratching his chin, faux intellectually.
The hunger I feel makes you a meal
Ooh, girl, you sure taste sweet
By my hair, pull me there
Oh, guide me to your treat
Spread your legs, I'll seed your eggs
Ah, feel me deep
Your hand slapped over your mouth again at the lewdness and the guys still found you entertaining. You made your best attempt to push any thought of Peter tasting you or feeling him deep inside you from your brain in this professional setting, not that it was the first time those kinds of thoughts crossed your mind. The effort of it made you sweat. You pressed your thighs together as a warm heat nagged at your core.
“Um, he sounds insatiably hungry…” was all you could get out with a shy giggle, and the guys laughed at your uncomfortable narration and you tried to hide behind your hand.
The chorus played again followed by:
Oh, I'm going down!
Dive! Dive!
And an insane, shredding guitar solo. This was not really what you usually listened to and certainly not this early in the morning, but you couldn’t help but bob your head as the song got faster and faster, dizzyingly so.
Next, women’s moans filled your ears. You had to laugh at this, it was too obscene to even be taken seriously.
“Peter, is that you too?” you asked with a grin.
“No, that was your mother.” Peter flippantly replied.
You shook your head, but couldn’t help but laugh at his unabashed lewdness and the thought of your poor, Catholic mother being ravished by the satanic Peter Steele. Peter covered his tight grin with his hand again and maybe was redder than you. Not possible, you corrected yourself.
She moaned for longer than you expected, deepening your blush, but she was soon interrupted by a second, more brief guitar solo.
"Lick me," she begged, she pulled down my head
I love to eat pussy!
The air rushed out of your lungs, your jaw had to have been in the basement with how wide your mouth was gaping. Even worse, you could feel a flood between your thighs, causing you to squirm in a way you hoped wouldn’t be too noticeable. You never thought something so humiliating, being forced to play along with Stern’s stupid game, and listen to these obscenely erotic lyrics with the obscenely erotic writer and singer of those lyrics sitting there watching you squirm, could be so… arousing?
It was too early for these stupid confusing feelings, too early for this ridiculously loud and lewd music and too early to be playing nice for creepy shock jock weirdos. You had no quips left for this stupid game. So you went for an honest response.
“It sounds like he loves to eat pussy.” you deadpanned, looking directly at Stern.
With that, the mood shifted. The FCC prohibits all obscene and indecent language from 6am to 10pm, which you had been prepped on and you’d just said something sufficiently obscene and indecent. Peter clapped and laughed harder than you’d seen him and Stern’s look at you was fulfilling his namesake.
“Allllll riiighty folks. Thanks to Nora Byrne and Peter Steele for coming on the show this morning! And now, time for a word from our sponsors.” Stern said into his mic, losing any of the cool he started the show with.
“Oho, that is the last time you are on my show!” Stern shouted as soon as the “ON AIR” sign flickered off.
“Great!” you said with a smile and stormed out of the studio.
That was the last thing you should have done. You didn’t need so much controversy in the middle of awards season and Stern was actually doing you a favor having you on his show at such short notice. But were you supposed to just sit through this stupid humiliation ritual he was putting you through all because he held the strings? Either way, Larry was going to be pissed.
You walked briskly down the hall headed to the green room before Peter caught up to you.
“Hey, Nora!” Peter grabbed your arm and your attention. His long fingers gently squeezed the circumference of your bicep. His hand was warm even through your sweater. You hadn’t realized you’d been shaking from the adrenaline of the conflict.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Peter said, a look of sincerity in his jewel toned eyes.
“I promise I’m not always like this, I swear.” you said quietly, looking away, traitorous tears threatening to well out of your eyes. He’d been doing a favor to help you out too which you also squandered, all before 8am, too. Had to be a new record.
“You were provoked. You’re right, that guy is a total creep. It just fucking blows that he has as much power as he does to make or break a career.” Peter whispered, pulling his hand away, there was the small ‘zap’ of static shock from your sweater, causing him to flinch.
You hadn’t realized how close the two of you were standing either in the tight hallway. You realized he was close enough that you could smell what you thought was Brut cologne on him, mixed with coffee and musk. If you weren’t still beet red from the song and the altercation, you would definitely be turning pink.
You took a step back and looked down both ends of the hallway. Behind him was clear, but behind you, you saw Angie’s head darting back in the greenroom from where it had been poking out of the door frame. You groaned.
“Listen, I’m fine, ok? I gotta go.” you spun on your heel leaving him in the hall where he stood.
You fought every urge to turn and look back at him. You lost to that urge and as you turned to enter the greenroom and snuck the briefest glance at him. His hands were in his pockets with his head down walking a few paces behind you back to his greenroom further down the hall. Before you slammed the door shut, you thought you caught another waft of brut as he walked by.
You turned to face Angie who was sitting on the couch, eyeing you suspiciously.
“That went well.” she remarked with oozing sarcasm, twisting an invisible knife in only a way that your sister can.
omg we need a peter steele fluff of where they’re just laying together in the couch watching some silly tv show that he swears he hates and it’s just watching cause she loves it, but it’s secretly invested
Peter Steele x Reader FLUFF
The plush cushions are a soothing balm to your aching body as you lounge in front of the tv. One arm is twisted up beneath your head and the other curls into your chest as you blink absentmindedly through the commercials while you wait for your show to start.
It’s as you mentally sing along to a jingle about toothpaste that you feel a dip in the foundations you had nestled yourself into amongst all the pillows and blankets adorning the velvet couch.
Peter sidles up by your feet, creeps closer wordlessly and manoeuvres you without complaint or request until he has found a place behind you, pressed into your back as his hulking frame curls around you with a final, content sigh— pleased with himself.
He’s very cat-like.
You always imagined a feline to behave in exactly the manner he does should it have the strength and size to get its way. Calculated and silent. With a sense of authority that whispers rather than demands. As if what he wants is already set to occur and he must simply nudge a single domino to collect his reward.
“We waiting for your show?” He rumbles. You hum a confirmation, grabbing the hand he has slung over your waist to bring back up to your chest in that curled position you had been laying in.
“Stupid.” He murmurs as the titlecard plays.
“That’s why it’s good.” You offer with an amused grin.
“It’s garbage.”
“One mans trash and all that.” You murmur. He chuckles.
You aren’t sure at what point you fall asleep but you’re roused when a sharp “tsk” from Peter vibrates through the top of your head where his chin rests. You make a small, sleepy sound and try to stop your eyes from closing again but the warmth of him is a cradle and his weight is a blanket.
“She was so good to him too.. what a moron.” He grumbles, focused on the cheesy dating show illuminating the room.
“Hm?” Your voice is pitchy and doused in sleep.
“Nice, stayed loyal, went back to the house bragging about him. And he embarrassed her like that? Moron.”
You giggle drowsily.
“Thought this was garbage?” The sound of your voice alerts him to just how sleepy you are and he can’t help but grin when he looks down to see you fighting for consciousness.
“It’s mind numbing.” He doubles down. “But when my sweetheart is napping against me I can’t think anyway so it’s fine.”
You scoff out a short laugh and look up to notice the ending credits are rolling and you lean forward to jerkily reach for the remote and turn it off.
The the room is lit by nothing but the moon and a faraway lamp that you’d draped a sheer scarf over, providing a concentrated glow that didn’t wish to disturb your bubble.
You turn in his arms and he lifts them to help you. When you bury yourself into his chest and sigh, the weight returns, coiling around you with a chuckle that’s more vibration than sound.
“Ten minutes. Then I’m taking you to bed.” He indulges you, grinning at your sleepy antics before leaning down to press a kiss to your head— at least you think he does.
It’s hard to be sure when you’re teetering on the edge of sleep in the arms of your sweetheart.
please I am BEGGING YOU do headcannons for girl dad Peter!!!!!! I need it injected in my veins!!!!
Peter as a girl dad headcannons
A/n: Me finally working on requests??? What in the world? Sorry if these seem kinda random.
Pairings: Peter Steele x Reader x daughter (platonic obviously)
Warnings: SOME lewd comments about breastfeeding (cause it’s Peter LMAO)
🩷Ok so first things first. He would be over the moon when he finds out the baby is gonna be a girl. Like this man loves women so much he grew up with 5 sisters and shit like yeah he’s excited.
🩷But of course he’s a little worried too. Afraid he won’t be a good dad and that he’s fuck it all up.
🩷You’d reassure him that he would be a great dad, and thats part of the reason you married him.
🩷He’d do all the heavy lifting when you’re pregnant. Including building the crib, changing table, and dresser for the nursery.
🩷He’d make sure to get all of the necessary items before the baby arrives. Clothes, toys, diapers, pacifiers, blankets, etc. and no, he would not let you lift a finger. You’re his pretty pregnant wife who he provides for.
🩷Once your babygirl arrives, he sheds tears as he holds her for the first time. (He also looks super sexy doing skin-to-skin contact)
🩷For the first few weeks he’d always be willing to get out of bed when she cries. But then later on I think the two of you would alternate. But Peter would get up and sneak into your daughter’s room just to watch you be a mom from afar.
🩷Speaking of which he definitely likes it when you breastfeed. He’ll make a poor taste joke here and there that has you rolling your eyes. Of course you let him get a taste later
🩷Once she grows up and starts walking and talking, he enjoys playing tea party with her or any other activities. He likes to play dolls with her too
🩷Speaking of which he assembles all of her toys. Including the Barbie dreamhouse that he definitely gets frustrated with because why the hell did they make it so complicated?
🩷it’s not rare to find him with a tiara on his head and feather boa around his neck as he sits in your daughter’s all pink room surrounded by stuffed animals and baby dolls while holding a plastic teacup, your daughter pretending to pour him some tea.
🩷He loves taking her to the studio because the guys just love her. They all coo over her and she definitely gets sassy with the attention. She also plays with Kenny’s daughter as well.
🩷Sometimes you guys will come on tour with him but only for a week or two. Because once she starts school you can’t have her on the road 24/7
🩷When she can’t be on tour, he’ll call every night and if she’s sleeping you’ll hold the phone close to her so he can at least hear her soft breathing. He also always brings souvenirs home for you guys.
🩷Peter loves to take her out to do something fun for a daddy-daughter day. The park, the zoo, the aquarium, Coney Island, the huge Toys R Us in Times Square, anywhere that she would enjoy.
🩷He lets her color in his tattoos with washable markers. He’d just be sitting there on the couch watching tv and she’d come running in with her box of markers. He’d let her work her magic while he watched the latest episode of law and order.
🩷When she grows up to be a teenager, I think he becomes more protective and strict. Like he for sure would have a no dating rule. Also secretly hope she was a lesbian just so she wouldn’t be dating any boys.
🩷If she came downstairs in an outfit too revealing or too much heavy makeup he’d make her go right back up and change.
🩷He reluctantly gives her a cellphone (since I think by this point it’s the 2000s) a cute pink razor. He also would lecture her on not skyrocketing the phone bill.
🩷Overall, he’d be the most attentive and active father. He would want a part in every moment in his child’s life.
