#go check this band out give them a chance

[wwapich]

dropping some fav OOR art I drew in these past few months here

[permanentreverie]

omg I just realized Tumblr cut off my tags on my reading log because I had to do it on desktop since it's impossible to access my original post on mobile because of that dumbass update and desktop doesn't tell you you've hit your tag limit so my tag review of beyond the story is gone I'm going to commit mass murder in the Tumblr headquarters

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[bettyfrommars]

Touch my cheek before you leave me, baby

gigolo!Eddie x virgin!older!Reader

(part 2) (part 3)

18+Only, mature themes, intimacy smut, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), paid sex, pet names, insecurities, reader is wearing a skirt, f & m orgasm. WC: 2.8k

Summary: Reader is a 29 year old virgin introvert in need of a confidence boost. Eddie is hired to make our first time a good one. Eddie catches some feelings that he wasn't expecting. Tummy rolls are briefly mentioned, but not in a disparaging way.

A/N: I had this idea last night about him needing the intimacy as much as reader. And then my head started running with all of his possible other clients and the debauchery they could get into together, but this one is just sweet.

Today is your 29th birthday, and your friends pooled their money together to get you the one thing you desperately wanted: to not be a virgin anymore.

You hadn’t been holding onto your virginity for any particular reason, but there had been several factors at play.  First of all, you didn’t like to leave the house much, aside from going to work and the rare meetup with friends, and so the chance of bumping into a promising sexual partner in your hallway was remote.  Secondly, you considered yourself to be fairly plain; you weren't one of the babes that men drooled over or tripped over themselves in the street for.  The crushes you’d had thus far were never reciprocated.  No one had openly pinned over you or held a boombox over their head outside your window, and on the occasion that someone did show interest, they often did not earn your affections. 

Your friends decided, and you agreed, that your first time should be with a professional, a guy who could give you the best first time that money could buy.  

Enter, Eddie Munson.

Covered in tattoos, he played in a band, and  had a reputation around town for being a favorite sexual companion for bored housewives and curious young women alike.  He was notorious for being particular about the clients he took on, though, and he didn’t just advertise in the paper—you had to be referred by a friend.  

That friend came in the form Robin Buckley, one of the baristas your friend Nellie worked with at the coffee shop.

“He’ll treat her right,” Robin assured her, jotting the number down.  “Now, I’ve never needed his services, personally, but I’ve never met an unsatisfied customer.  He makes women feel…desired.  As they should.”

So, there you were, two glasses of wine later, perched at the edge of the sofa in the lobby of the hotel where you’d been told to meet him.  Your friends knew exactly where you were, and there had been paperwork to fill out and sign—you didn’t know gigolos needed official signatures, but all the same, it stripped it down to a business transaction which is basically what it was. There were a few boxes to check off regarding things that turned you on and, conversely, triggers that he should avoid saying or doing during your time together. Did you have a praise kink or a daddy kink? Did you enjoy the use of pet names within intimacy, or was that something he should avoid? Hair pulling, choking, spitting, ass play, all of it was available for a check mark and you felt like you had the potential to compile one seriously huge fuckfest ice cream Sunday.  

He knew you were a virgin, and that you might not even know if you’d like some of the things offered, and he promised to take that into consideration to enhance your experience on the whole. 

Once he had accepted you as a client, he gave Nellie a safety list of things that would make your experience more enjoyable, and one of them had been not to drink too much, because he didn’t want you to engage in any activity you might regret.  Another one was to dress comfortably; there was no need to try and impress him—he was the one who needed to impress you.  

And impress you, he did.

He showed up earlier than expected, beard stubble grown in and a little scruffy (because you said you liked it that way), long hair tied back, button down black shirt cuffed at the elbows exposing his tattoos, and black jeans.  He also had a bouquet of yellow daffodils clutched in his fist, wrapped in cellophane.

His eyes locked onto you immediately and you watched them light up; a smile breaking the sigh that hitched in his chest.  He put the palm of his free hand over his heart as he walked toward you.

“Damn, baby, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he was beaming genuinely, as if he really meant it.  “Even better in person.”  Your friends had shown him a photo of you so that he would know what you looked like, but you had no idea which photo it was.

You didn't feel like you looked good, though, so you lowered your eyes as you got to your feet on wobbly legs, feeling frumpy and bloated, taking in the sharp reminder that he was being paid to lie to you.  You were so nervous, your palms were sweating, and the wine was churning sour in your stomach from the swarm of butterflies in there.

“Hey,” he got close enough to crook his finger under your chin and tilt your head up; his golden flecked, rye bread eyes were serious.  “You know how beautiful you are, right?”

All you could do was nod under the kind assessment of his stare, and it made a smile stretch across his lips. “That’s my girl,” he said, introducing himself properly, handing you the daffodils.

He knew that daffodils were your favorite flower, because of the paperwork you filled out, but you never expected to receive any, since they weren’t even in season.  There must’ve been a flower shop somewhere that had them, and Eddie had found it.  He offered his elbow for you to take.

There were two other people in the elevator, and he pulled you back flush against him, possessively holding you by your hips.

Eddie had a key to the room, and once he pushed the door open, you could tell he’d already been there.  The lights were all off, but for a lamp on the opposite side of the bed near the window, and two candles lit on the desk near the TV.  What you assumed was his leather jacket was the only thing hanging in the closet.  You even spotted Magnum condoms and a fresh bottle of lube on the nightstand.

“How’s the lighting, sweetheart? You want me to turn that lamp off?” 

You specified that you wanted the room to be dark, maybe just enough light to see what each other was doing, but you didn’t want him to see you in full brightness.  This whole time, you’d been too nervous to say more than one or two words.  

“Because, if I’m being honest,” he slid his hand up the side of your neck, palm warm against your skin.  “I really want to see you.”

“It’s fine,” you choked out, unable to hold eye contact with him for too long.  God, you bet he was already regretting taking you on as a client.  What a waste of a boring evening for him; but, at least he was getting paid.  

Yet, not even a flicker of his enthusiasm for you left his eyes.  He took the daffodils from you and put them on the dresser at the foot of the bed.  

When he turned back around, he cupped both hands around the sides of your throat, thumbs at your jawline.  “You can trust me baby.  If things start moving too fast, you let me know okay?”

You nodded.

“Have you ever been kissed before?”

You bit your lip and then, “a couple times. I had a boyfriend once, but it was long distance and it—”

But then Eddie’s hands slipped up to cup either side of your jaw, fingers slotting at your ears.  He nudged your nose with his, then then he kissed your top lip, parting them with his tongue.  

You closed your eyes, letting him move your head from side to side, and you couldn’t help the moan that squeaked out of your throat as arousal built between your legs.  He smiled against your mouth, nuzzling your nose.  “You’re a good kisser, baby.”

Deciding you liked it when he lied, you allowed yourself to become an active participant and slid your hands up his ribs, clutching him, pulling him closer.  He kissed you softly a few more times, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, and your hand found the courage to travel down yonder and see what was below his belt.  

What you found made your eyes fly open: not only was it huge, but it was hard.  

Eddie chuckled.  “See what you do to me?”

The one thing you had done several times was given a few blow jobs here and there, and so you were working his belt open and dropping to your knees at the same time when he stopped you, catching you at your ribs to pull you back up.

“Tonight is all about you, angel,” he assured, urging you back to drop down to take a seat on the bed.  You stared up at him while he straddled your legs and unbuttoned his shirt.  Once the defined muscles of his chest and scattered tattoos were exposed, he helped you take your shirt off, pulling it over your head, and then he knelt before you.  

You braced your hands behind you as he pushed your skirt up  your thighs, maintaining eye contact.  He caught a glimpse of the lacy underwear you had on and he lifted an approving eyebrow.  

You swallowed hard, and then he was sliding the underwear down your legs and off, kissing your knees as he went.  He came closer, arms nudging your legs wider, taking a glimpse at the glistening gift you had for him underneath.  

Eddie bit his bottom lip, making a hungry groan.  “You gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?”

“I think so, um, yes?” your hips twitched forward a bit, begging.  Normally, you were too shy to let others go down on you, but you were determined to get all you could out of this night, knowing it was a rare opportunity.  

He brushed his lips along your thigh as his hands worked your skirt up higher.  You shivered when you felt the warm breath on your swollen lower lips, and then he was watching you as his tongue flicked out in a few kitten licks.  After a taste, enjoying the way you writhed, he buried his mouth, moaning, fingers clutching your thighs.

“Grab my hair, baby,” he said.  “Tell me how much you like it.”

So, you did just that.  His ponytail tie was off, so his hair was around his shoulders, and you slid your fingers in to hold on as he took you in his mouth and rolled your bundle of nerves around with breathtaking accuracy.  

He'd only intended to tease you a bit, but once he tasted you, he couldn't stop. He had his tongue buried inside as soon as he was able, feeling the tip of his cock leak at the gift of your arousal.

It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself beginning to unravel, at it was the first time another person had brought you to that peak. The tension mounted in your belly, going taunt, before it sprang loose and a fizzy warmth gushed through your nerve endings. “just…like that,” you told him.  “I think you might make me…”

You held his head as you were cumming, leg jerking, head falling back, pining his ears wth your thighs.  

He wanted you to kiss him right then and there so that you could taste your release on his mouth, and you obliged, holding his face as you did so, melting into the moment.

For the next minute, you helped each other undress, and it was all happening so organically—it felt so real—that you could almost imagine he was actually your boyfriend, or someone who at the very least, wanted to be. 

Both naked now, he held you close as you stood next to the bed, tracing a finger down the side of your face.  “Are you ready, baby?”

Truly, you’d been ready your whole adult life, and you were glad you had waited for Eddie, even if this was a paid arrangement and you’d probably never see him again.

His lips tended to your neck and your breasts while he worked the condom on, making the educated decision that you were so soaking wet, he wouldn’t need any extra lubrication.  

It was the intimacy that you’d specified wanting to feel; like he was no stranger to you and this moment was something special between two people who felt deeply about each other.  So, he came down close and gave you exactly that, putting his forehead to yours.  “I’m gonna go slow at first, okay?” He breathed.  “You tell me if it’s too much?”

“I will, baby.”

He smiled at the way you returned the use of the pet name, feeling your body open up beneath him as anxiety and doubt morphed into trust.

“Shit,” Eddie broke character for a second as the tip sank in, caught off guard at how tight you were, and he had to pull out again for a second to catch his bearings.  

It was the closeness that he loved, too---he craved it.  He’d never had a client who wanted it this way, and it was the main reason he’d taken you on.  It wasn’t the virgin aspect—surprisingly enough, he’d been a first-time experience for a good handful of his customers.  It was the opportunity to pretend he was someone’s boyfriend for the night—a role he hadn’t played in real life for far too long.  The chance to pretend that you both cared deeply for each other and no one else in the world existed.  

He sank in this time a little further than the tip, and you cursed, but then nodded for him to keep going.  “All of it, baby,” you urged, leaning into your role.

Your core was rippling around his length, aching for more.

He went half in and dipped it back and forth a few times, pausing to watch your face.  

“I’m worried that I–” he started, but then he realized he was breaking character again, and the vulnerability made him stiffen.

“What are you worried about?” You whimpered as he stretched you out a bit more.  Your legs were wide, bottoms of your feet planted on the bed.

He thrust in with a shudder, both of you gasping.  “I’m worried I might like this too much.”

Inside, there were party streamers exploding in your soul at the mutual yearning that ebbed between you.  As you gave yourself over to him, there was a feeling that he was also giving himself over to you, and it felt so real, that you rode the wave with every fiber of your being, wrapping your legs around him, kissing him deep.

The kissing and the endearing moans were about to make him cum, so he sat back, shaking his head, and hooked your knees over his elbows.  

He took you in from under hooded eyes as he made long, slow thrusts inside.  “You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart."

You were so deep in it, you actually believed him this time.

“Harder, baby,” you coaxed. 

That elicited a coy smile and an eyebrow wiggle from him.  “Oh, that's my girl,” he breathed, and then he was fucking you so hard your tits bounced, as did your belly rolls, and you could tell he was getting off at the sight.  His thumb found your nub and worked there, making you expose your throat with a whine, enjoying the wet slap of your arousal as your bodies met.

The connection and intensity between the two of you was palpable, and you couldn’t tell if it was manufactured or real, but regardless, you could feel another velvet bomb inside of you about to explode.  

His eyebrows were pinched when you found his eyes.  “I’m close, I’m close, I think I’m…”

The closest you’d ever been to knowing the sweet pull of a mounting orgasm be gore that night was from those moments alone with your vibrator, and having your hole satiated by Eddie thick cock enhanced it in a way you could’ve only imagined.

“Fuck, me too,” he grabbed your thighs with both hands and buried himself over and over.

It never happened this way.  In fact, there had been several times when he had never cum at all: he was always very content to make it about the other person.  He fully intended to wait for your second orgasm before he even tried to relieve himself, but this time it felt too good; he wanted it too fucking bad.  

Your head snapped to the side as you came, babbling his name, walls clenching around his cock in a way that sent his hips jerking, pounding against you, pretending his seed was filling you up instead of a condom.  

Eddie bit his lip as you both chased the high, and then his sweaty forehead was on yours again, long hair grazing your cheeks.  He needed to kiss you when he was done, and that was how you liked it, too.

Your friends had only been able to pay for two hours' worth of Eddie’s time, but you ended up staying for much longer than that, at his urging.  He coaxed you over to lay all of your body weight on him, and the two of you stayed like that, listening to each other breathe. You called to give them this update, and the confusion in Nellie’s voice was priceless.  

When you were both getting dressed, Eddie started buttoning his shirt while you sat down to put your shoes on.

“Hey, so, if you ever want to do this again,” he swallowed, thinking of his words while you waited, head turned to look at him.  He couldn’t meet your eyes, he just kept fumbling at a button.  “You wouldn’t have to be a client.  I mean, I wouldn’t charge you.”

Part 2

[kpop]

K-Pop Spotlight: DAY6

Come one, come all to a K-Pop Spotlight that is sure to dazzle and delight ’til the final curtain. This week, all eyes are on DAY6 following the release of their eighth mini-album, Fourever, and brand new title track, "Welcome to the Show." We caught up with the band to discuss their goals as they approach their 10th anniversary and their ever-growing connection to their fans through their music. Check out our full interview below!

Tracks like “Welcome to the Show,” “The Power of Love,” and “Get The Hell Out” seem to have very different themes. Can you tell us a little about how these songs relate to each other and what aspects make this album cohesive?

SUNGJIN: As we pursue the idea of being a 'band that sings every moment,' it seems like our albums, including the recent one, prioritize diversity in songs and situations rather than unity. Consequently, our albums contain various genres and narratives. However, there seems to be a commonality in most songs, depicting situations that everyone has either gone through or might experience.

Young K: First and foremost, I would say this album is a compilation of the best songs we could create. There's definitely a theme of love running through it. "Welcome to the Show," "The Power of Love," and "Get The Hell Out" all talk about the concept of love.

What goes into creating titles for DAY6 songs and albums, especially those that don’t come directly from your lyrics? Do you find it hard to condense the intentions and themes of a song into a title?

Young K: While there have been cases like that, all the songs on this album came from the lyrics. Sometimes, when choosing a title, we select the one that best describes the song—other times, we choose to give it a twist or make it more intriguing.

WONPIL: Naming songs involves a lot of deliberation. We often contemplate which title will catch the eye and capture the song's essence. Usually, we try to take it from a verse in the chorus. This can be a challenging part of the songwriting process.

Is there a creative project you’ve always wanted to work on but haven’t gotten the chance/found the time?

SUNGJIN: I'm very curious, and have a principle of "trying to experience as much as possible." There are so many things I want to try musically and personally, especially among the things I know but haven't tried yet.

DOWOON: I hope we can have a song that we can collaborate on with My Day, like a choir.

What does your work/studio setup look like? Where do you feel the most creatively inspired?

DOWOON: We try to keep the studio as tidy as possible and make it comfortable for practice sessions.

WONPIL: When working on songs, we talk a lot. We get inspiration from little conversations, joking around, sharing stories, and listening to music from various eras regardless of genre while giving opinions. We also try to build emotional connections with the songs. There’s a lot of communication going on. The songwriting process takes place in the studio of our long-time collaborator, composer Hong Jisang, with whom we've been working together since our debut.

How do you want to evolve as a musician/producer?

Young K: I want to be eagerly anticipated and awaited as an artist. Without those who wait for us, we wouldn't release or even step onto the stage. So I’m always thankful for My Day.

WONPIL: My biggest goal is to make good music for My Day and the public, so I think I'll continue to ponder. When working on songs, I pour my sincerity into them. I constantly strive to express this sincerity musically, fully capturing the emotions I want to convey. I hope to create songs that can still be listened to even after 10 or 20 years.

Design your own Tumblr blog: choose an aesthetic, a blog name, and would you be a frequent poster or lurker?

SUNGJIN: I think I’ll use it to catch up on friends' updates. For the blog name, THUMB BLUR sounds good to me. I might end up being a lurker who never posts.

DOWOON: Maybe a blog for plants? I think I'll post it like a diary.

Want more DAY6? Check out their new mini album Fourever and the music video for the title track “Welcome to the Show,” both out now!

[itaipava]

— lando norris falling in love with you

he is actually timid about liking you and tries to treat you like just another friend because he doesn’t want to be too obvious; but the more he tries to hide that feeling, the more he feels.

he gazes at you a lot; he looks at you with his eyes shining because for him you are the most beautiful artwork ever. he never tires of admiring you. and he also likes to learn your little quirks and habits, and he finds them so, so cute and unique. but he quickly looks away when you look back at him.

he loves making you laugh; making silly faces from across the room, or making comments in your ear about something he noticed. he laughs along with you or stares at you with major heart-eyes while you laugh until your cheeks hurt. he also always laughs at your jokes — whether they’re good or bad.

he becomes more talkative and tends to ask a lot of questions about you. he tries not to overdo it but he’s just genuinely curious and interested about you; and he genuinely loves to hear you talk, it could be about anything, he puts his chin in his hand and looks at you fondly, encouraging you to say more and more.

he also hangs on your words. one day, you casually complimented him by telling him that he looks good in blue and you were pleasantly surprised to see he wore different shades of blue for the next whole week. even when you make a passing comment that you want to go to a certain artist’s concert, he goes online to check and secretly buys two tickets in advance so that he can surprise you.

he becomes more physically affectionate. there’s a sense of innocence in the way he touches you, whether it be something small like; touching your hand when you walk side by side, or knees touching under the table or a playful, casual pet on your head

he also tries to find excuses to hold your hand; subtly holding your hand a little longer after a high-five or asking for your hand so he can “read your palm” or compare the size of the hands for the hundredth time, or also to draw a small heart on the palm of your hand - letting you do the same to him later, so you guys have the same ‘tatoos’

he likes to look at what you’re listening to on spotify or what you’re saving on pinterest; because that way he learns a little more about your favorite things. and whenever he gets the opportunity, he starts talking to you about it, and he’s completely in love with the face you make when he asks you about your favorite band or something.

he also tries to like the same things as you, to understand you a little more and so that you have more to talk about; he always gives another chance for that movie or song he hated but you said you loved.

he constantly includes you in his future plans. he wants to hang out with you more and in hopes of you sticking around, he makes plans in advance, sometimes a few days in advance, sometimes a week, sometimes a month, sometimes even a whole year as he talks about about how he’ll help you decorate the christmas tree next december. and he’s always so conscious about whether you’re having fun to the point it seems he might be trying a little too hard and when you bring it up and reassures him, he sheepishly says, “i don’t want to bore you i guess, i want you to keep me around,“

he starts wanting you to stay the night. and he starts holding your hand more because although words may not leave his mouth, he really wishes for you to stay — to stay the night, to stay with him, beside him. and he holds your hand a little tighter each night and starts developing a habit of squeezing your hand before every goodbye.

[eggs-love-loki]

I’m getting a good grade in recovering from jaw surgery, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve

[zanarkandskylines]

Blast Off

『♡』  fem!reader  x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ aged to 21 | friends to lovers ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

summary: your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. tags & warnings: brief violence, cursing | friends to lovers, pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kiss a/n: bakugo would be such a fun person to go to a show with when he’s the one interested! otherwise he’d rather stay home lol ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,714 ꒱

“Yo, you ready yet, dumbass?” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot as he’s waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec, Kat!” you call back as you’re leaning over the sink, cleaning up the corner of your eyeliner with a wet cloth.

“Y’don’t even need makeup, dammit!” he retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “Ya probably won’t even -,”

His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and enter the living room.

Woah. She looks fuckin' gorgeous.

You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. “What? Too much?”

He scoffs as he sneakily checks you out a second time. “Nah, you look great.”

You smile and wink at him. “Thanks, Kat. Right back at ya.”

“If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment.

The outfit you chose to wear fit the scene of the band you were seeing, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble - a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, a few stray pieces of hair framing your face alongside your bangs.

Bakugo wasn’t as dressed up as you were, donning a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hung on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorned his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” you ask as you’re looking for your boots in the hallway closet.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Boots in hand, you return to the living in room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“They’re literally the same kind you wear on patrol!”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, to be playful. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” he scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder as an apology. “Let’s get outta here.”

-

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Huh? I told you -,” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Just ‘cause I heard ya doesn’t mean shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your damn dinner.”

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once,” you say defensively.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I let you buy the tickets.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would grab food. It didn’t matter what it was - coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city - he’d shove you aside and take your card, or be the one to order so you don’t have the chance to hand your card over. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since Junior year of high school.

While leaving the curry shop, you see the train approaching at the station.

“Shit, Kat. That’s the train we need to catch to make it on time!” you utter in a panic as you grab his wrist. “C’mon!”

_

You arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you both enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned.

Once inside, the two of you make your way over to the bar while the crowd was light.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area of the venue and situate yourselves near the back - not too squished between loads of people but close enough to see the stage.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of thanks.

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “Of course. Woulda been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come see the band we had on repeat together through all those study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. He lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you cheer in unison and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song.

_

The show has been a goddamn blast! The two of you have been singing and dancing together the whole time, screaming every single lyric. Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious - his grin not wavering the entire show.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic. “It’s a special one - thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored. You watched as his eyes lit up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the band progressed through the song. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd.

Bakugo removes his arm from your hold to spin you around to face him, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways with you in his arms as you embrace him, mimicking a slow dance. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his chest alongside the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment between the two of you. His hold encased you in a sense of security that you didn’t find with anyone else.

Once the song ends, the band is saying their goodbyes to the crowd as he releases his hold on you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

We?

Bakugo smirked at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” he teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick, you have better taste than I do. I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the bathroom. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts.

It’s been a good 20 minutes since you wandered off. Bakugo meanders over to the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over his shoulder. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he spots your ponytail in a sea of others.

You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize. The guy slithers into your personal bubble as Bakugo stalks up behind you.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you -"

"Beat it, jackass. She's obviously not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

He scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment - did he mean that? Or was that just to get this guy off your back?

You turn to leave as the guy slaps your ass - hard. "Have fun with this loser."

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Shit, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you bolt through the crowd and away from the guard before getting caught.

The two of you manage to escape, rushing out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alley way, hiding from any potential security that could have tailed you and letting go of his hand.

Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"S-shit, sorry Kat, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

He takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard. "I'm not complain'."

"Boyfriend, huh? Was that your way of asking me out?" you joke, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is brief, but enough to get his point across.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?"

You giggle, pulling him back in for another kiss - longer and sweeter than the previous one.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

bakugo just couldn't resist confessing after watching you beat some dude's ass in one punch ;)

Divider by : @/saradika

[ronwestbreeze]

ROLE MODEL

pairing: rockstar!hobie brown x drummer!reader

summary: i just like the song lol

word count: 1k (drabble)

author's note: the rockstar!hobie brown idea was inspired by @murdrdocs drabbles. go check them out!

It’s crazy cuz’ he noticed you before you ever set your eyes on him.

The first time was the night before his gig. Hobie just happened to be pub hopping when he saw you smashing it on the drums. You were just so into it, so entranced by the music—him so entranced by you. Hobie just knew by then he had to find some way to talk to you. You were just something he could not see only just once and leave it at that.

No. Once wasn’t enough.

You saw him during one of his gigs. The way the purple and pink lights flashed upon his umber skin, his hair—god you loved the dreads—the piercings, the devilish smirk that just made your heart jump, and the way his hands expertly moved on the strings of his guitar, creating such an amazing sound that you loved so much. The guitar was your favorite instrument, unfortunately you found yourself best at the drums but someday you’d love to give the guitar a try. And look just as cool as this guy.

 Oh yeah, you were totally crushing on him the moment you first saw him. You wanted to talk to him—really you did—even your friend was trying to push you toward him after the show. You were confident on the drums, not asking dudes out.

All you knew was that you wouldn’t forget him or that night. You just weren’t sure if you would ever see him again.

Fuck, you blew your chance…

After that night, you found yourself now obsessed with his band’s music, sometimes catching hints of his singing voice here and there. God you were such a dork about it. Your friends liked to laugh about your little crush, but you were feeling absolutely stupid about it. Knowing that it probably wouldn’t ever happen.

Turns out the two of you lived in the same city. Hobie found you during one of his quick runs to the coffee shop. There he spotted you hunched over a table with a book of music notes and headphones on your ears. He thought about approaching you, introducing himself and all that, but unfortunately he was in a rush and could do nothing but briskly walk past you. Only to stop short when he heard a familiar song coming from your headphones. Just when Hobie was about to leave, you looked up at him.

Smooth as all can be, Hobie pointed to his ears, causing you to move part of your headphones so you could hear him say, “I like that song. You’ve got taste, yeah?”

Your smile made him smile just a bit, “I wouldn’t say all that. If you see my playlist you might change your mind.”

“Naah, I’ll show you mine and you show me yours.”

A chuckle left your lips, “Sure, sounds great.”

Hobie smirked, “I’m—”

“Hobie Brown. Yea, I saw you at one of your shows.”

Huh, you knew who he was. Hobie shouldn’t have been so giddy about this the way he was at that moment.

“You gonna tell me your name then?”

“Y/N.”

God your name was even prettier than he imagined.

You saw him again during a show near your old neighborhood. He even spotted you out in the crowd this time. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you had ran into him that day in the coffee shop, much less that he now knew your name. You pinched yourself multiple times just to make sure you hadn’t been dreaming about that interaction. And when the bruises appeared on your skin, your heart fluttered for hours. A giggly mess as embarrassing as it sounded.

When the show was over, you managed to leave out the side door of the venue only to find Hobie leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth and black headphones around his neck. He looked up, a grin stretching his lips when he saw you.

“Thought I saw you in ‘ere.”

He stepped toward you as you grinned, “You were killer on that guitar you know, I’m almost envious.”

“Naah, I know you ain’t shit talkin’ when I saw you slammin’ it on em’ drums.” Hobie smirked when you grew visibly flustered. You didn’t know he had seen you play before. “Best drummer I’ve seen, I’ll tell ya.”

“Shut up, there’s way better.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you leaned on the brick wall next to him. You gestured to the headphones, “Got that playlist for me?”

Hobie smirked and placed them on your head, “This first song is why I picked up the strings in the first place.”

When the song played, when you heard the guitar, you immediately was engrossed into the song. Closing your eyes, listening closely to every instrument and every voice. For a second you had almost forgotten that Hobie was there watching you, his hand on the wall next to you and leaning on it.

You pointed to the headphones, “You’ve gotta show me how to play like this. Like you one day.”

“Yeah?” Hobie glanced from your lips and then back to your eyes, “What, d’you want private lessons? Cuz’ I think there’s room in me schedule. If ya ready for it.”

Instead of replying, you took your own headphones out and placed them on his head. “Here, you're gonna like this one.” When you played the song from your phone, Hobie didn’t close his eyes and get into the music like you had done. Instead he never broke eye contact with you and his head began bopping slightly.

You stepped forward and Hobie leaned closer. It was perfect how your lips easily fitted each other. How the smell of both cigarettes and cologne filled your nose, leaving you wanting more of it. How the softness of your lips only confirmed that he wouldn’t let you go so easily.

Both hands were on the wall and on either side of your head as he leaned further into the kiss. The music pounded in both of your ears, the night was loud and yet quiet at the same time.

There was a certain high that came from his touch. And there was a certain drug that he craved when it came to kissing you.

When the two of you broke apart to catch your breaths, he grinned down at you.

“It’s a date then.”

[inklessletter]

Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:

Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.

And he finds out it is his dream job.

He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.

And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.

Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.

His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.

They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.

That one is a Russian spy.

That one runs a secret lab.

That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).

That one is an former cop.

"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.

"He does looks like one, though..."

Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.

"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.

Shit.

The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.

Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.

"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."

Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.

"Uh, I—I don't—"

"Oh, sorry, I just—"

"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."

Eddie nodded.

"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."

"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."

Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.

Eddie left the library.

There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.

Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.

"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"

"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."

A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.

"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."

Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.

"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."

His first real love began with music.

[viennakarma]

Satisfaction [Part 2]

PART 2 OF SATISFACTION

Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).

Find me on Twitter!

I.

“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.

“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.

“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.

“Oh. You know about that?”

“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”

“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.

“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.

“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.

“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”

“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”

“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.

Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.

He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.

“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.

“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.

You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry. 

“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.

“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”

“I was an ass to you and-”

“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.

II.

So the flowers were a no.

And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.

He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.

“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.

“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“At McLaren, yes.”

Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.

“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.

You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.

As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.

“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.

“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.

“Y/N, can you just-”

“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”

Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door. 

“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.

Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.

“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.

“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”

You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.

“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”

“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”

“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”

He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.

III.

Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.

Desperate times asked for desperate measures.

So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“I’m your ride to the track today.”

“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.

“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”

“You told me, during one of our sessions.”

“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.

“I listened to you.”

“Weird way of showing, then.”

You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize. 

“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”

“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”

That made you pause, turning to stare at him.

“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.

“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”

“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that. 

“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.

“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”

You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.

IV.

Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.

Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”

“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.

“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.

“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”

“You don’t have to, really-”

“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”

He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.

“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.

“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”

Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.

“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.

“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.

“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”

Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.

“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.

“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.

“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.

“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”

Lewis eyed you carefully.

“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…

“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”

“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.

“It’s not fair-”

“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”

He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”

“Oh.”

His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.

“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”

“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.

When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.

V.

Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.

“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.

“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.

“And…?”

“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”

“Nah, he’s just passing by.”

Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.

“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.

“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Lewis.”

“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”

“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.

“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.

“Lewis, I don’t think we-”

“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.

“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.

He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.

“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.

“It’s perfect.”

Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.

You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.

After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.

“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.

“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”

“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.

“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.

“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-”

As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.

“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.

“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.

“We shouldn’t,”

“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.

“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”

You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.

So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.

“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”

He gulped, nodding.

You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.

Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.

You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.

After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.

When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.

You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.

“Lewis? What the fuck?”

“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.

“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”

“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.

“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.

“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.

“Is that a yes to my question?”

“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.

“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.

“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”

He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.

“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.

“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.

“See you soon.”

He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.

TAG LIST: @mirrorball-6 @chanshintien @icysdiary @nat-lh-44 @aphroditeisamilf @sugardontbesweet @nonsensical-nonsence @slytherheign @luv4kani @18754389 @lorarri @verew @honethatty12 @smartstupyd @moonraysworld @chanelxreid-blog @gemini5991 @comfortzonequeen @blue1amory @soryuwifeyxx @anangelwhodidntfall

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congrats on 5k! For the request thing— what about Price, doing some wedding/engagement ring shopping? He wants something special, and something perfect! I think some of the other boys would like to propose with a family ring, but he REALLY wants something nice for his lover, even if she'd be happy with something small and simple.

Give that man extra grey hairs trying to choose between tiny, miniscule details that only a trained jeweler would notice.

—The Perfect One

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞

The Captain’s lips thinned and once more the Jeweler’s face fell with an inward sigh of disappointment. 

“Next,” John places the ring back down to the glass counter, the rows and rows of engagement bands inside lit up by background lighting.

“Sir, it’s nearly closing time. I don’t think you’re going to find one today—” Blue eyes stare and don’t blink at the man behind the counter; with nearly three solid seconds of eye-to-eye contact. 

The Jeweler clears his throat. 

“L…Let me go check in the back.” John grunts and the man scurries out of sight after locking up the previous ring. 

They just weren’t right, the Captain admits as he sighs long and rubs a hand over his beard, scratching at his cheek. Some rings were too simple, others too gaudy or far too intricate—there had to be that perfect medium somewhere.

But hell, this was the last jeweler in the city. John scowls at himself; glaring down at the glass and at the hundreds of options inside; all having been taken out and inspected as if they were bombs out in the field. The epitome of no stone left unturned. No man left behind. 

No ring left behind. 

“Bloody fuckin’...” The Captain trails off, harshly grunting his anger. 

If you could see the blatant annoyance in John’s eyes, you’d laugh and take him by the face, kissing his chin before speaking about blood pressure. As if he wasn’t constantly one bullet away from getting his brains shot out of his skull. 

It was the thought that counted. 

The man closes his small eyes and tilts his head to the side, fingers tapping the counter once. 

He just…he wanted it to be everything you would want. All he needed was a plain band, truth be told, but for you, he wanted that ring to show everything that you’d been through together. The good and the bad—past and future. An even mix of love and devotion swathed around your finger to join you both in a promise you’d already been keeping for years. 

And none of these blasted bits of metal and stone were good enough.

“If I’d of known it’d be this much trouble,” John grumbles, looking outside at the steadily darkening sky. “I would have just made my own, yeah?” 

But it was too late to change career paths, God forbid. 

Yet the man really wonders if it’s the ring that’s bothering him or the fact that he’s nervous to finally bend a knee. He knows he shouldn’t be, rationally there’s little chance you’d refuse—this wasn’t exactly a new relationship by any means. You’d both taken your time with things over the course of years. 

This was just a matter of when and not if. 

Still, the sink in his gut didn’t let up. 

“Here,” the Jeweler returns and John snaps back to the shop, moving away his clenched hands from the counter to fold them over his chest as the man brings over a small jewelry box made of reddish wood. “This is it—after you go through that,” he splays his hands in defeat and sends a painful glance John’s way. “You’ve fully gone through my entire stock. Had to dig through all of my displays to find it.”

“What’s wrong with them?” The Captain asks in curiosity, his deep accent pushing through as he grabs and opens the box with two hands—firm and not really hoping for much.

“Nothing!” The Jeweler exclaims, mildly offended. “They’re old pieces—antiques. They don’t match the rest of the designs I have out.” He blinks, thinking hard before he puffs out, saying, “They’ll cost you extra!”

John slides an unimpressed glance upward and frowns, but the rings in the box do more than he expected them to.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. 

There were only two in there, swathed by their precious sides in deep navy blue silk to hold them up. The glint of gold and platinum makes John’s breath still as the Jeweler begins talking about the ring that the Captain then takes out carefully.

“Circa 1940, the mixture of gold and platinum makes a unique and yet beautiful mix of class and antiquity with this piece. I would call it Victorian in style, judging by the detail around the raw gemstone—diamond, by the way. The ring is both simple but utterly striking when you look at the finer details, Sir.”

John ignores him, large fingers delicately bringing the object closer to his eye and moving it this way and that. He even goes far enough as to place it on the counter and take a step back to gaze at it from a distance, his eyes narrowed and wrinkles pulled in.

It was stunning. But, above all…it reminded John of you. 

The Captain’s lips twitch for a moment, his tension slowly dripping out of him like water. 

It made him huff a chuckle, but the Jeweler had been right about this one—the ring was simple, but the deeper intricacies of carved metal built it up to a point of elegance. A reverence and dedication to the craft. 

Dedication.

John slowly hums to himself, going back and picking the ring up another time. It sits in his palm, such a little thing, but, oh, so heavy. It wasn’t a shackling weight, no—it was the deep press of purpose. 

John closes his hand. 

“How much?”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

I have an idea I would love to request but I wanted to check with you first! I couldn't help but think Astarion would be so infuriated & confused by me. Like when he held a knife at their throat, they're willing to give him a chance. Their reason is he has no real reason to trust them since he doesn't know them at all so they would show to him that they can be trusted. Then he's more confused when the first time he tries to drink blood from them, reader is shocked then immediately asks questions if it hurts, do they need to be healed, how should their position be so it's easier for him to drink, what would happen after that, etc. Even after he drank & they were feeling the effects, they asked if he still needed more. He answered them no confusedly before they were satisfied with his answer then passed out. He is both relieved and baffled at what just happened. What do you think of this? Please tell me if you're not interested! Thanks!

Local Vampire Spawn confused by care and offers of friendship, more at eleven.

~

Astarion, surprisingly, had gotten pretty lucky when it came to his newfound traveling companions. Two master swordsmen, a barbarian tiefling menace, and a Shar priestess were about the best one could ask for when it came to having protection. He could probably do without the do-gooder druid and walking time bomb of a wizard, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

And then there was you. The unofficial leader of the merry band of weirdos. Hyper competent, kind, and a powerful, and admittingly gorgeous, warrior. You would be perfection if you weren't so... frustrating.

Simply put, Astarion thought you were an idiot. A well-meaning, naive idiot, but a moron nonetheless.

What other explanation was there for your delusional trust in him? Your introduction had involved him pressing a damned blade to your throat, with every intent to kill you if you decided to struggle. Maybe even if you hadnt, if you had been alone. The correct response to a first meeting of that caliber would be to completely disregard him. Or kill him, for someone who had any conception of self-preservation.

But no, instead you gave him the offer to come with you, like that wasn't an absolutely insane thing to do. You had been so understanding, insisting that his penance for trickery and threats was justified. That you would be sure to earn his trust, like that was something worth obtaining.

At first, Astarion tried not to look too deeply into it. You were all going through hell, it made sense to travel in a pack, to find solidarity in others while trapped in a land full of endless horrors. It would explain why you kept the violate gith and the walking bomb around, despite their faults. There was also that foolish air of empathetic care about you at all times that helped explain things, one that extended far past Astarion himself. Though it did have limits. Astarion had borne witness to how unforgiving you could be when someone manipulated your trust. Though he completely agreed that the Hag known as Auntie Ethel fully deserved a slow, painful death, he hadn't been prepared for just how... literal you would take it.

So while you weren't completely without common sense, you still lacked a good deal of it. Like the fact that letting a vampire spawn drink your blood at night wasn't included in those same limits.

He hadn't even meant to open that particular door of feeding on you. It was just... so terribly hard to resist. You smelled divine, the scent of your blood always lingering beneath the surface of your skin. Cloying and decadent, the slightest whiff nearly enough to make his mouth water. He had been trying so damn hard to hide his true nature, feeding on whatever he could find in the dead of night. But none of it felt like enough. It should have been, he had more access to sustenance in the forest than he ever had under Cazedor's thumb. And wild boar were certainly better than sewer rats at the least.

But it wasn't enough to tame his growing desire for your taste. It had just happened. One moment he was simply on his own bedroll, staring up at the stars. And in the next the hunger was overtaking him. He was crawling over you before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his mouth already widening.

And then you woke-up, startled enough to knock Astarion out of his all-consuming thirst. You scrambled to your feet, staring at him with wide eyes as he struggled through an explanation. He had every expecation that this was it. This as the moment you would toss him to the side, realizing once and for all that he wasn't worth the danger.

But instead you just nodded along, the first question out of your mouth when he finished a simple, "Will it hurt?"

Astarion blinked at you, confused at you lack of reaction. He had admitted to being a literal monster for gods' sake. And that's what you were most curious about?

"Yes," Astarion said slowly, watching your face for every microexpression, "It will hurt, briefly. Then the pain fades into something a bit more... tolerable."

You nodded, asking another question, "Would I need healing after? Or would a bandage be enough? I would hate to wake Shawdowheart so late."

That was-he-were you actually considering this?

Astarion shook his head, hope and excitement starting to bubble to the surface, "No, a bandage should be fine. You might want her to top you off with something in the morning, but it won't be anything that can't wait."

"Okay," You said, nodding to yourself once before meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, "In that case, should I lay down? Or would standing be better?"

Astarion could scarcely believe your willingness. Part of him wanted to ask if you were sure that you wanted to do this, but his sheer lust for the taste of your blood shut that part down. Instead Astarion was reaching for your hand, gently tugging you down to lay back on your bedroll.

"This will be perfect," He murmured as he crawled back over you, his fangs protruding on their own accord, "Now stay still darling, we don't want to tear anything, do we?"

Astarion could just make out a lovely flush grace your cheeks at the pet name, barely visible by the campfire. It was a good look on you, that mixture of embarrassment and nerves, one that he wouldn't mind seeing again. But for now he had other appetites to attend to.

Astarion bit down, nearly moaning when the divine taste hit his tongue. Somehow it managed to taste even better than it smelled, warm ambrosia sliding down his throat, filling him with pure energy. It was an exhilarating experience, so much better than anything he'd ever tasted before. It was nearly too good, decadent enough for him to feel greedy.

He could feel you shaking under him, letting out the occasional whimper and whine. He was vaguely aware that this had been going on for too long, that he was taking too much. But it was so damn hard to resist.

It wasn't until you were gently pushing at him, whimpering, "I-I think that's enough."

There was the slightest touch of fear in your voice, the only thing that worked to pierce through his bloodthirsty haze. Astarion rolled off of you, licking his lips with a happy sigh. That was... better than he could ever have imagined.

He hopped up to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you do the same. You seemed woozy and unsteady as you stood, proving his suspicion that he had taken too much. It made the smallest lick of guilt creep up his spine. But it's not like you were ever going to let him do it again, he might as well indulge-

"Are you sure that was enough?" You asked, completely derailing his train of thought, "Will you be okay with just that? Or should we try again in a few hours?"

Were you actually insane?

"No my friend. I think I'll be fine," Astarion said carefully, "Another night perhaps. But, uh, are you okay?"

You shrugged, already sinking back down to your knees, snuggling back into your bedroll like nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm sure I will be. Just a little tired now is all. Good night."

And then you were closing your eyes, out like a light while Astarion stood above you. Confused beyond belief. That was... how were you still alive? If this was the kind of thing you were willing to do for a near stranger, with nearly 0 reservations?

It was insane, idiotic, stupid. And now you just fell asleep right in front of the same man who cannibalized your blood? What the fuck was that? How was one supposed to respond to that? Astarion was grateful yes, beyond so. He went on to have a very successful hunt, even if his catches tasted worse than ever, they still left him feeling satisfied and capable. But he was plagued with thoughts of you the entire time. Thoughts that followed him through to the morning and the days to come.

You were so damn lucky that he was the spawn that was kidnapped. Half of his brethren would have already used your trust to bleed you dry before fleeing into the night. Gods knows what would have happened to you if it was Cazador who was taken in his place. That thought alone was enough to make shiver, clouding his brain with a massive discomfort at what someone like that would do with someone as... kind as you.

Astarion would never allow it. As stupid as you were, it didn't mean you deserved to be used. Well... by anyone besides himself of course. He was starting to think that he could use all of this blind trust to his advantage. Get you attached to him, force himself as a priority in your life that was worth protecting. But for that to happen you would have to stay alive. And that would mean someone would have to protect you from your infuriating self.

Astarion supposed that would just have to be his job. What it meant that the idea of doing such didn't fill him with resentment? He wasn't sure, and he sure as hells wasn't going to try and find out.

[hees-mine]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲! 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, blowjob, cursing, food play.

Happy birthday to this sweet boy! I love him so so much. He’s literally such an angel, and he deserves all the happiness in the whole entire world. I hope he had the best birthday day ever!!!🎂🩵

Baby, you really didn’t have to do all of that,” heeseung says as you both walk to your shared bedroom. He’s carrying at least 10 different bags and sets them on the floor before plopping down on the bed. “You woke me up with breakfast in bed, sang happy birthday to me, took me out on a date to my favorite restaurant, somehow managed to band all my family and the guys together.” he listed off each thing on his fingers until he finally gave up because he didn’t have enough fingers for everything you did for him today. “I’m so grateful for you. Thank you so much. This was literally the best birthday ever like everything I could ask for in just one day.”

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his chest, his arm naturally wrapping itself around you.

“You’re welcome, babe, and I wanted to do this for you 'cause you deserve the world.” you looked up at him with a small smile on your face while you stroked his chest.

“Give me a kiss, beautiful.” he puckers his lips, giving you a quick peck. “I love you so much.” he holds you in his arms, squeezing you as tight as he possibly can.

“I love you more.” you kissed him on the lips.

“Not possible, baby,” he says in a sing-song tone as you remove yourself from his grip. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

“Change,” you chirp. “Be right back.” you turn on your heels, going to the bathroom to change into his final surprise of the night.

“Hurry back,” you smile to yourself cause your boyfriend was so cute he acted like he couldn’t go a moment without.

He hums a tune while scrolling on his phone. A few minutes pass, and he’s already missing your warmth. He was about to get up and check on you until he heard the bathroom door creaking open. “Baby, are you almost-“ he stops halfway, his mouth instantly falling open the moment he sees you standing in the door. “Done,” he finishes his sentence, gulping down before the drool got a chance to roll down his chin.

“You like it?” You do a little spin teasingly, shaking your ass, and his eyes glued to your exposed bottom, watching it jiggle.

“Oh my god,” he falls back on the bed, his hands rubbing his eyes before he looks at you again. And his eyes were correct, and you looked absolutely stunning. “I fucking love it. Come here,” he says softly while you stride confidently over to the bed.

He bends down, kissing your exposed stomach, your arms encircled around his neck, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he looks up at you. “Are you gonna unwrap your gift?” You shyly bite your lip, anticipating his next action.

He pulls the string to the pink bow you wore that was covering your chest, sticking his tongue at the sight of your hard nipples. He wets his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs, eyes roaming to each of your tits as he admires your beauty.

“Thank you,” you giggle as his large hands sneak up your waist until they meet your plush breasts.

“Mm, of course, baby,” he hums, leaving little warm pecks all over your torso.

“Not so fast.” you pull away from him.

“Hmm?” He tilted his head curiously while you reached into your drawer, taking out the can of whipped cream you had stored in there prior to his birthday party. “O-oh,” he looked at the can, smirking to himself as you lay on the bed. “Ooh, my girl has a naughty side,” he takes the can from you. “Lay back for me.” You lay on the bed for him, and that’s when he finally noticed the pink crotch-less lace panties you were wearing. “Fuck” he groans, looking at your bare pussy. “You don’t want me to make it to next year, huh?” He chuckles, laying on top of you, making out with your lips before he gets to the main event.

You laugh Against his lips as he claims your mouth, tongue licking every single last inch until he pulls away.

He smiles and holds the whipped cream to your chest, index finger pressing on the nozzle as he covers both your perked-up nipples with cream.

He sucks the cream in his mouth, the tip of his tongue wetting your hardened bud as he flicks his tongue back and forth. “So sweet.” he switched to the other nipple, doing the same and licking off the cream.

“Yes, hee,” You moan, pressing your tits together and pushing them up as he hungrily licks all over your chest, loving the feeling of his tongue roaming your body.

“Hmm.” He sprays more cream from the top of your stomach to your navel.

His tongue meets your tummy, going all the way down to your abdomen as he licks the trail clean off.

He then moves lower, giving your clit a tiny kiss making you shiver in pleasure before he climbs back on top of you. “Open” he slots himself between your legs, humping against your thigh as you open wide for him to spray the whipped cream into your mouth, and you seductively suck on the tip like you do when giving him head.

The sight has him shifting from on top of you. He stands up quickly, pulling down his jeans and boxers along with his shirt, leaving him completely naked as he got undressed in record time. He laid beside you on the bed, and he didn’t even have to ask. You grab the can, spraying the cream all along his fully hardened length from base to tip. He whimpers from the coolness of the white substance cock twitching the moment your mouth envelopes his tip. “Ooh shit baby,” his eyes are already glazed over his hand placed on the back of your head as you Bob up and down eating the cream off his dick. “Just like that baby,” he sighs, head tilted to the side so he can see how your mouth swallows up his every inch.

You hum when your lips meet his base, and you breathe out through your nose so you won’t gag around his long cock.

The sweet cream mixed with his salty precum was the best taste ever. You closed your eyes, savoring the delicious delicacy that was your boyfriend. “So warm,” he moans. The contrast from cold to warm made his toes curl. “Baby, your throat feels so good. Oh my god,” he grunts, finding it impossible not to buck his hips ever so slightly.

You moan as his thick tip hits your uvula, a gush of arousal getting pushed out of your hole as you gag around him. “Shit, there you go, just like that” You swallow around him, pulling back to take a breather spitting on his cock whole, jerking him off a few seconds before hollowing your cheeks and deep-throating him.

He runs his fingers through your hair, a thin layer of sweat forming all over his naked body, and his upcoming release feels so intense. “I’m gonna cum already” he throws his head back, whining at the sensation of your wet mouth. He’d still never understand how your mouth always produced so much saliva, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved getting head from you. Always so nasty and sloppy, just the way he likes it.

He pulled you back by your hair just so he could see his dick coated in your spit. “Spit on it” Without any hesitation. You spit all over his cock, thick strings of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock before he lightly pushed your head, causing you to sink down on his cock once more. “Gonna cream pie your throat, my pretty girl,” he groans, his hand cupping your cheek as he watches you, taking him in with ease.

You moan in response, the little vibrations tingling his tip just enough to send him over the edge and spill warm spurts of cum in your mouth as it slowly slithers down your throat. “Fuck me,” he gasps softly, mouth hung open, the whites of his eyes showering as he breathed heavily and his balls throbbed with pleasure. “Oh yes,” he falls on the pillows searching for a breath of air, but he finds it difficult after that amazing fucking blow job you just gave him. “Fuck yes,” you could feel his balls pulsing on your body lip which brought you so much satisfaction you loved that feeling mixed with the way his heavy cock rested on your tongue.

Your trail your hand up his abs, releasing his cock with a lewd pop. “The surprise is far from over,” you tease his nipples, slowly grinding your wet pussy on his softening cock. “We’re just getting started,” you wink, and he can’t help but think this is the best surprise he’s ever gotten and definitely his favorite birthday to date. “Happy birthday hee.”

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[gothlcsan]

Puppy Rockstar ; CHOI BEOMGYU

PAIRING rockstar!beomgyu , fem!reader

GENRE SMUT 18+

SYNOPSIS beomgyu is the bassist of your band, he’s always been clingy with you and he would do anything to make you his

WORD COUNT 4162

WARNINGS switch!gyu, kissing, spitting, fingering, choking, biting, improper use of instruments, cock slapping, angst, swearing, beomgyu is EXTREMELY possessive, let me know if i missed anything > <

♫ our song - ella mai

a/n day twenty of kinktober. i missed yesterday so i decided to make this one a little longer. i hope you enjoy. this was briefly proofread so i apologize for any mistakes! if you enjoyed please consider liking and reblogging! > < ~ ♡

The first day you met with the band, you instantly became aware of Beomgyu’s existence. Which was hard to miss considering the way his eyes fixated on you the very moment you walked into the little garage. The band had money considering they were gearing up to start a small world tour but they claimed staying to their roots kept them grounded, meaning you’d practice in the small garage that smelt just as old as it looked. Their previous drummer has quit only a week prior, not giving you much time to learn and perfect their songs but they had faith in you and your talent, you nodding at Beomgyu as you settled behind the drums. The stool was a bit shaky, having to plant your feet firmly onto the ground to steady yourself. Going through the set list and tweaking things as you went, you sigh in relief as the practice ends a few hours later, feeling the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Glancing up you see Beomgyu staring at you who’s been doing so for nearly the entirety of practice, coining him in your head as a doppelgänger of Death Note's L.

“Hi?” You slightly dragged out the word, trying to hint that you were confused and slightly weirded out by his intense stare. He raises an eyebrow in response, smiling faintly, and turning around to put away his bass and bid everyone goodbye before leaving. You shrugged with a slight shake of your head deciding he was a strange one, attractive, but strange.

Tour begins and it’s chaotic but better than you had imagined. You were getting used to being on the road in the tour bus, the tiny bunks that nearly trigger your claustrophobia, becoming accustomed to using Beomgyu’s snoring to aid your sleep. However, one thing you hadn’t expected was to accidentally overhear Beomgyu relieving himself underneath you. His tiny moans being just the slightest bit muffled (presuming by his hand), your body going stiff as you hear him sniffle, your name rolling off his tongue. You try to convince yourself you misheard him, that you were exhausted and sexually frustrated yourself that’s why you heard your name. Hearing your name a second time causes your entire body to inflame into a blush, covering your mouth to stifle the surprised and turned on moans that threaten to expose you to being awake. The lewd sounds of him chasing his high makes the hair on your arms stand up, body radiating heat due to your flushed skin, eyes squeezed tightly shut to ground yourself. You go stiff when you hear him carefully getting out from his bunk, relaxing both your face and breathing to not give yourself away by the slight chance he’d check to make sure you weren’t awake. He doesn’t do so, hearing the small door to the bathroom open and shut, the sound of the sink running giving you enough time to let out the breath you were holding in. Moving to lay on your side you nearly laugh out of shock at the reality of the situation hitting you like a truck.

The next morning to pretend nothing is out of the ordinary, well as normal as you can considering every time Beomgyu would glance at you, you’d look away just as fast. His gaze suddenly felt heightened due to last night's accidental invasion of privacy (not that you meant to listen but he did moan your name so is it really your fault?) Practice goes smoothly, trying to ignore Beomgyu as much as possible, focusing on Taehyun who stood in front of you, swaying back and forth on his feet leaning on his microphone stand.

“After tonight’s show do you want to grab drinks? The bar seems to have pretty cool drinks in honor of us gigging there.” Taehyun asked, you gasping as your reply is caught off by Beomgyu yanking him by his jacket collar. You watch as Taehyun is dragged away, looking over at Soobin and Kai who only shrug and go back to packing up their gear.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Taehyun yelled as Beomgyu threw him against the wall, his arm pressed against Taehyun’s throat. Beomgyu’s expression was deadly, his voice practically a snarl as he spoke.

“Don’t you ever flirt with her again, you understand me?”

“What? Beomgyu seriously-“ Taehyung is cut off by Beomgyu pressing his arm firmer against his throat making him flinch in pain.

“I will choke you out with my guitar string, don’t try me.”

Beomgyu lets go of Taehyun who drops to the ground gasping for air, Beomgyu kicking water in his direction before going back into the bar, walking past you to grab his case and head to the tour bus without a word.

Whatever they argued about before the show seemed to have settled as you all prepared for the show, doing the last and final soundcheck. You kept a close eye on the two of them deciding if you had to break up a fight you’d take one for the team. Getting to the last song, Taehyun comes over to you whilst singing, smiling up at him and giving him a wink which he returns. You jump as Beomgyu turns his amp up, now playing louder than Taehyun’s microphone, glaring at the two of you. Taehyun walks over to Beomgyu and tells him to turn it down, not being able to hear what they were arguing about over Soobin and Kai still practicing. You watch as Beomgyu yells at Taehyun to fuck off, walking off the stage to the break room, you running after Beomgyu saying you’ll handle it. Knocking on the door you let Beomgyu know it’s you when he says to screw off, the door nearly getting ripped off it’s hinges when he swings the door open.

“Can I come in?”

He doesn’t give you an audible reply but he steps out of the way for you to get inside, closing the door behind himself as he leans against it watching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Gyu, I can tell something is bothering you. You’re on edge and it’s not common to fight with everyone, especially Taehyun like you’ve been doing.”

He goes to accuse you of being on Taehyun’s side instantly shutting that theory down stating you weren’t picking sides, you just wanted everyone to get along and put on a good show. He’s quietly staring at his boots and you knew he felt sorry for his actions, telling him to come sit down on the couch with you. Sitting down you give him a firm hug telling him to take a second to breathe and then you’d both go back out and he could apologize to Taehyun. He hesitantly agrees, you telling him he did a good job, your fingers instinctively playing with the ends of his hair as you hugged him. A tiny noise from Beomgyu sends you back to reality apologizing as you let go of him, his tiny laugh bouncing off the walls as he replied it was fine. He asks if you’d braid his hair out of his face, agreeing as you told him to face away from you. Running your fingers through his long hair to get it to sit away from his face, you massage the scalp, fingertips scratching the back of his ears. A satisfied moan comes from him which makes you instantly think of the night prior, your hands freezing as a flustered blush blossomed on your cheeks. Quickly regaining your composure you start braiding his hair, securing the end with the hair tie that always sat around your wrist, giving his shoulder a soft pat letting him know it was finished. Beomgyu studies it in the small mirror giving you a smile saying it looked great, then saying he was ready to head back if you were. Agreeing, you stand up and turn off the lights on your way out, smiling as Beomgyu apologizes to Taehyun, both of them agreeing there were no rough feelings.

“Oh my god, what is that Gyu?”

You walk up to Beomgyu after you had changed into your show clothes, eyes fixated to the prong collar around his neck. He lets you touch it, your eyes and fingers steady as you asked him if it hurts, shaking his head saying it would probably only hurt if it got yanked on.

“They really have you looking like a mutt.”

Your eyes widen at your own words, going to apologize instantly, changing your mind as you notice the blush on his cheeks, looking back down at the collar.

“Not that it’s a bad thing, of course.”

He chuckles at your sudden shyness, letting you stand straight up and walk to your drum set, placing your sticks against your forehead as you tell yourself to get it together. Luckily enough the show is a great distraction from everything until it wasn’t, Beomgyu eyeing you up and down every opportunity he had. His blatant flirting as he walked towards you, mouthing the suggestive parts of the songs, giving you winks before turning away to work the crowd. After the show and meet and greet, you ask Soobin if he’d put your drums away, you’d pay him back later you just had something you needed to do. He tells you it’s not a problem, thanking him sincerely before marching up to Beomgyu. He notices you giving you a smile before his eyes fall into confusion asking you “what” repeatedly as you grab him by the collar, making him gag.

“Follow me. Now.”

He does so, practically all but running to match your pace as the collar tugs into his skin. You slam the break room door behind you, pushing him into the dark room hoping he made it to the couch. Flipping on the light you stared at Beomgyu who looked at you, rubbing his neck where the collar has pinched.

“What?”

“No Beomgyu, what the fuck was that?”

“I’m not following?”

You scoff, a frustrated laugh coming from you as you point your drumsticks at him.

“I pretended to not hear you when you moaned my name last night, I tried to act oblivious to you hating anyone who seemed a little too friendly with me, what is your fucking deal?”

Beomgyu is frozen, his expression a mix of horror, shock, and excitement? He doesn’t reply to which makes you groan in frustration, just desperately wanting an answer to your questions. However, he doesn’t speak, your grip tightening around your drumsticks as you match up to him. His eyes don’t falter from yours as you raise the sticks up meeting them back down against his crotch making him gasp in pain. He doubles over on the couch, your brain snapping back into reality instantly asking him if he’s okay, Beomgyu looking up at you with a smile.

“That hurt you know.”

He catches his breath, sitting up and looking down at his jeans, throwing his head back with a sigh.

“Beomgyu did you seriously just?”

He nods, your face turning red as you turn around fast. Beomgyu had just cummed from you hitting him, and why did that fact excite you? Going to apologize, you tell him to not speak, needing a moment to wrap your head around the situation, taking a deep breath as you turn around on your heel.

“Let’s talk later, yeah? I’m tired.” You said, letting him finish up as you walked to the tour bus, waving at fans as you got ready for bed. You laid awake, staring up the ceiling of your bunk as you heard the other members climb into theirs, not yet hearing Beomgyu get in. Soft whispering pricks your ears as you move to get a better listen, chewing on your bottom lip as you recognize Beomgyu’s voice. You couldn’t tell who he was talking to, maybe Yeonjun? Lying back down quietly as you hear them exchange good nights before heading to their bunks. The soft rustle of Beomgyu settling in makes you hold your breath not that you need to, closing your eyes in hopes of heading to sleep first.

“I’m sorry.”

Beomgyu’s voice is barely an audible whisper, choosing to not respond hoping he’d go to sleep if he figured you weren’t awake. The sound of his rustling puts you at ease taking that as he is heading to bed, having to cover your mouth once more as you hear the softest sighs coming from him. Heat burned in the pit of your stomach listening to him, Beomgyu saying your name as if it was nothing to him, clenching around nothing at the sounds. He sounded delicious, your hands trembling as you greatly considered sneaking him into your bunk, imagining his long slender fingers replacing your own fingers that found their way into your shorts. You stayed quiet and still as possible, thanking the bumps in the road that hid your shaking limbs as you pumped your fingers in and out of you with each moan that came underneath you from Beomgyu.

“Fuck, need you so bad.” Beomgyu whispered, the heat running down your legs at his lewd confessions. Considering the consequences of sneaking into his bunk bed, you swear under your breath, turning to face the wall whispering Beomgyu’s name. He falls silent before faintly replying with a breathy, “yeah?” You tell him to make room, checking to ensure everyone’s curtains were shut, slipping down from the bunk quietly, crawling into Beomgyu’s fixing the curtain. The space was small for one person, the two of you being nearly sandwiched together sharing the tiny space. Sudden shyness falls between you two, quickly breaking it by pulling him into a kiss, he returns it with a smirk, a moan vibrating from deep in your throat. He tasted sweet, slightly salty and bitter, sighing against his lips as his hand greedily started taking off your pajama shorts. You giggle as he kisses down your throat, his fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit.

“So wet for you.” You whisper into his ear, gaining a possessive growl from him, his selfish and greedy nature stuffing his dick into you. Gasping into his neck you moan into the soft flesh as he grabs your ass, using it to help him thrust into you, deeper with each stroke. He felt incredible dragging against your walls, his girth making it difficult despite already having had prep yourself, biting his shoulder as he slowly picked up pace. Your vision blurred as you got lost into it, your moans being muffled into his skin and kisses, clinging to him in hopes of getting more. Beomgyu didn’t disappoint in the way his thrusts reached places you didn’t think were realistically possible, your head thrown back as he kneaded your ass like fresh dough. Wrapping a hand around his throat, you added enough pressure to make him groan, his dick twitching in you causing a surprised moan to fall from you. You matched his thrusts, your hips sore from gyrating them, hand tightening instinctively as the red hot heat deep in the pit of your stomach grew.

“Need to cum, please.” Beomgyu begged into your ear, you nodded fast telling him to cum on your thighs, Beomgyu pulling out and painting your thighs, the sight making you blush. His fingers push past your messy folds, long slender fingers hitting your reeves until you clench around them thighs convulsing as you cum around the pretty digits. Both of you are doing your best to hide your panting, sharing soft kisses as Beomgyu helped you put on your shorts after cleaning you up with spare wipes he had. Poking your head out to check if the close is clear, you bid Beomgyu goodnight before sneaking back into your bunk.

The next several stops you find yourself sneaking into Beomgyu’s bunk, sharing kisses as he takes off your edge, a slight pain growing in your chest. You loved the sex, you didn’t love how much you loved it, the friends with benefit pact you two had unspokenly formed making you ache. It was becoming impossible to ignore that you were slowly (well.. not too slowly) gaining feelings for Beomgyu but it was hard to tell if he felt the same. At the very least he didn’t make it unbundling clear if he had feelings outside of the late night sex.

You were resting your head against the booth table, the other members deciding on getting burgers next door, you wanting something more soupy. Beomgyu had agreed to go with you so you weren’t by yourself, listening to him sit next to you finishing his ramen. Paying for both your meals, you tell Beomgyu to finish up, you want to step outside for some fresh air. He tells you to be careful and he’ll meet you out there, telling him not to rush as you walk out. The cold air hits your face which you welcomed, leaning against the brick wall, planting one foot against it to keep yourself in place. Thankfully it was later in the evening so you didn’t have to worry about fans potentially running up to you, most likely heading to the venue for the concert. Checking the time on your phone you knew you guys had two hours until concert time, popping a piece of gum into your mouth as you relaxed waiting for Beomgyu. A few minutes later the bell on the restaurant door goes off, opening your eyes seeing Beomgyu walk up to you, asking if you were reading to head back to the venue. Nodding, you send a text to the band chat along with your manager, walking in silence next to Beomgyu. He stops randomly in his tracks, looking at him with a confused expression as you ask him what’s up. He asks for a piece of gum, going to fish out the half empty pack out of your pocket as he tells you not that kind.

“Well, this is all I got. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Beomgyu slowly walks towards you until your back is flush against the wall, you gasping as your back hits against the brick.

“What are you doing?”

Beomgyu places his fingers around your chin, bringing your face closer to his, not breaking eye contact once.

“I want the piece in your mouth.”

Staring at him you tell him to stop being a dumbass, laughing until you realize he was serious about this, going quiet.

“You’re serious?”

Beomgyu responds with a little smirk accompanied by a nod, you swearing under your breath as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. Clasping your hands together you press your lips against his, the kiss is nothing special as you pass the gum into his mouth, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand when he pulls away. He smiles in triumph turning away as he continues to walk down the street, you following close behind shaking your head.

The show goes off without a hitch but you cannot shake off your feelings from earlier. Bidding everyone goodnight as you head off to the break room to grab your bag, you make note of Beomgyu following close behind. He shuts the door behind himself and you ignore him as he talks, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“I missed you.”

“We literally just played a show together.” You muttered, grabbing your back and moving to leave. He stops you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“That’s not what I meant, silly.”

Beomgyu kisses up your neck, biting down on your lip before the emotions coursing through you snap, angrily pushing Beomgyu away from you. You ignore him as he calls after you, accidentally shoulder checking Yeonjun who comes out of the bathroom, roughly pushing the exit door open as you mindlessly step out into the pouring rain. You didn’t care where this alley led to, you just needed to get away from the venue, away from Beomgyu. Seeing a lit up bar sign you decide on your destination stopping in the middle of the alley as Beomgyu yells at you.

“I love you, you know?”

You whip around giving him a glare, sarcasm thick in your voice as you yelled back.

“Yeah, love you too.”

Turning back around you go to take another step, Beomgyu telling you to stop moving, his voice barely audible over the heavy rain.

“No, I’m in love with you.”

Facing him again your face is a mix of hurt, confusion, your shoulders hanging in defeat as you shake your head. You weren’t in the mood for this, not for his pity, not in the mood for the lies he’d try to take back the moment the two of you were in the tour bus and he got what he wanted. You watch him as he sprints up to you, throwing his arms around you as he pulls you into a kiss, your body relaxing into his naturally. Part of you wanted to shove him away but he was warm, his lips molding with your own, curling your fingers around the soaked ends of his hair.

“Tell me this isn’t a lie, please.”

You needed reassurance, needed to know you weren’t going to make the worst mistake of your life on a shred of hope. Shaking his head he promises he isn’t pulling a joke on you, laughing against his lips as he says he’s obsessed with you. Telling him to prove it, you squeal with a laugh as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pins you against the alley wall, kissing you with such vigorous you almost swore your lips would be ripped off. Keeping your fingers tight in his hair, you jump as you hear hooting and hollering from down the alley, Beomgyu pulling back to tell the band mates to fuck off, you groaning in shyness into his shoulder.

“Let’s head to the tour bus to grab dry clothes. We have an off day tomorrow, let me grab a hotel so we can be alone.”

You feign being hurt, shaking your head accusing him of only thinking with his dick, Beomgyu smacking your ass as he carries you back into the venue.

“No, I meant we can be alone so we can makeout without the guys mocking us the entire time. Clearly you’re the one thinking with your dick.”

You look at him with a “oh really” type of expression, Beomgyu calling you cute as he opens the door, pushing past the guys and manager who just shakes his head, telling the guys to shut up and get onto the bus. Thankfully the bus pulled closer to the venue than earlier, climbing onto the bus long enough to grab extra clothes and necessities, blushing the entire time as the members poked fun at you and Beomgyu. Listening to the painfully embarrassing “use protection” talk by your manager you pull Beomgyu by his wrist telling everyone goodnight as you two grab a cab, leaving to head to the hotel.

The hotel itself is nice, the blush on your cheeks not fading as Beomgyu wraps his hands around yours, guiding you to the elevators. The ride up is quiet, humming as Beomgyu presses tiny soft kisses against your neck, telling him to behave himself.

“Yes, ma’am.” He says with a proud smirk, walking down the long vitrified tiled hallway to your door, unlocking it with the keycard heading inside. The room is massive, definitely much more than the two of you needed. Nonetheless it was beautiful and modern, stripping out of your wet clothes instantly to fall into bed, giggling as Beomgyu came behind you to smack your bare ass. He calls you a tease, hooking his finger around the thin band of your panties, snapping it back against your skin causing you to flinch, calling him a jerk for doing so.

“You know you like it.” He replies back, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed next to you, allowing you to cuddle into his side. You were spent from the emotionally taxing day, yawning loudly as you lay your head against his chest. Beomgyu runs his fingers through your hair, returning the favor by rubbing small circles against his stomach using your thumb. His warmth radiating off his chest against your own makes you hum in satisfaction, doing your best to cuddle closer craving his body heat. Being able to relax with him solely without the extreme confinement of a bus bed makes it easy to nod off, Beomgyu telling you goodnight as you faintly snore against his chest.

Waking up realizing you have the prettiest boyfriend, being the drummer of a super successful band, how could you not be the luckiest girl in the world?

[reveluving]

you know what I just thought of? Shy wife is used to going to neighbour cookouts and gatherings alone since Graves is often away. She gets hit on quite a bit but always reminds everyone she’s very happily married (I mean haven’t they seen the rock on her finger?)

Then one day she finally shows up with Phil at one of those gatherings and he’s so confident his relationship with her, he can’t help but laugh at those guys cause he knows she only has eyes for him 😌 (he prolly proceeds to fuck her within an inch of her life lbr)

Also completely unrelated but shy wife getting a tiny discreet tattoo of his initials or their last name, and he discovers it while fucking her after getting back from a mission

-🍬

*Rubbing my hands together like a villain* I kicked my feet in the air the second I received this!!! You, my dearest, are a MASTERMIND 🙏🏼😩

Includes: brief smut at the end (minors DNI!), petnames (‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty girl’), mentions of possessive!phil, you get a lil’ tatt for him, slight humour & loads of fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Whether you’d like to imagine it while you’re Phil’s wife or fiancée, I’d like to imagine the latter more, since engagement rings tend to look more upscale than wedding bands. So imagine the immediate (but not enough) sting one would feel as soon as they boldly come up to you, hoping for a chance. It’s impossible not to acknowledge the large diamond cut around your finger, twinkling even at the smallest movements. 

It usually drives them away, but you’ll also have insistent ones, keen on making you sway while they nurse their injured pride to health.

Or even when married, no doubt Phil gets you the most out-there-looking band—why should he settle for less for any occasion, after all?

For Phil, he’d rather be caught dead in a ditch than potentially lose his actual ring on the battlefield. It’s why he has a silicone wedding band instead, personally chosen by you, thus why it’s almost as special as his main one. While he’d rather not potentially let a single scratch on his actual band, he still wants a part of you with him. Remind him of the memories you’ve made and will make every time he comes home. 

But on the other hand, it’s a possession thing.

Phil’s confidence in your relationship is just as massive as him carrying himself to the world, so the ring is more of a warning, as mentioned before, to those thinking they’d even have a grain of chance with you. He knows people take advantage of beautiful sweethearts like you because as soon as you give them a crumb of attention, you can only hope someone saves you from their infernal yapping.

The best part about it, to Phil, is that you don’t mind feeding his ego, just as he lives for them like a dog showering in its owner’s praises, because you know he achieves them all, be it his work or otherwise. But God knows if the men flirting with you were being truthful about the little stories they’ve conjured up to impress you.

Plus, you prefer Phil’s attention over theirs, absolutely no competition.

Especially when Phil finds the time (read: makes sure) to attend these cookouts.

Even if he doesn’t frequent to them as much as you do, he’s a household name. Literally. The hosts of the cookouts, Rick and his wife greet you like you’ve known each other for years; the same pair who’d save you from your demise each time they’d realize you were dragged into a one-sided or possibly uncomfortable conversation.

Phil is rare to be seen without you by his side, and none of you minded. A symbiotic system as Phil gets to flaunt you to all the desperate guys out there while playing guard dog. With unamused looks and sharp glares or even condescending smiles when they realize that he is the infamous Phillip Graves you and the hosts have been talking about. Somehow he knows which of them to send his warnings to, even if you’ve never given him their description.

"I did promise the missus I'd come one day." Phil joked with the group when Rick and his wife teased him for finally coming over, pulling you close to his side because he knew they were watching. You didn't, well, couldn't (not that you wanted to very much) spare even a second for them when your husband naturally had your attention.

And you get to seek comfort from him. Plus, it’s ten times fun with each other in these gatherings. Good food, good conversation and best of all, good company.

Now, tattoos. Ah, tattoos.

I imagine you’ve been considering one for a while and without his knowledge. Only because you know he’d be nosey enough to be able to draw an answer out of you. It takes a bit of time though, largely due to the commitment of it. You want one, of course, but to have one, you’ll want one that’s truly meaningful.

Should it be Graves or just G? Or should you opt for P.G. instead? What font would you want, how big would it be and where?

Even when you’ve finalised your answers, there’s a lingering bit of fear that it won’t be to your or his liking. But you’ve known the man long enough to know that so long that your heart belonged to him, cherished and cared for, you knew his heart will always belong to you too.

A small, single ‘G’ tattooed on your wrist in a flourish font. I initially thought of a finger tattoo but I heard not many artists recommend it, but that's beside the point! 

Just imagine him coming home after a tough time at work, pent-up until he has his wife underneath him. He only notices the ink on your wrist as his fingers interlock with yours. He slows his thrusts, but not he's stopping either.

If anything it reaches deeper into you when he realizes what the tattoo indicates.

“Pretty girl,” He purrs, pinning your wrist to brush his lips along the semi-sensitive spot. There's something about the way he carefully presses his lips to your pulse, only for his eyes to flit to your glassy ones with such danger. Such passion.

Such… eagerness.

“Didn't tell me y‘had a surprise.” The way surged his hips forward rather suddenly, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a petulant pout had your lips parting, letting out a shaky moan even before you could protest. 

“I–I wanted to…” You whined, silently begging him not to stop with your feet against his back, even if it fogged your mind from thinking straight, from making sense as you spoke, “I had it… L–Last month...” 

It has Phil feel some type of way—the best way, that is. If seeing his love handling her wedding ring with much care doesn't make him go crazy already, then this definitely would. Be prepared to have your hands pinned, be it to the bed, the wall, in the shower, wherever, whenever, so long they—both the tattoo and the ring, face him for a little while.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚