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#i wrote what my brain said fit
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I cant choose between 39, 36 and 32 so I'll let you decide! (from the soft prompts)
39. There should be a word for a threat that is also a promise.  Because that is what I want you to hold me down and do. (I love you)
“If I were to leave one of these days, without telling you, what would you do?”
“Mmm... what?”
It wasn’t a fair question, and it doubly wasn’t an appropriate moment to ask it, but Faye didn’t care. This question always haunted her too late in the night, when her eyes should be heavy but she was wide awake, restless in her own head.
She wasn’t trying to test him. She used to want to, given their natures, as if she actually needed some greater proof of his love or loyalty. That was years ago, when they were younger and more foolish. More reckless.
Now? She was just curious. Scared, but willing to accept whatever answer he gave.
Because she thought about it sometimes. When she got tired and restless, itching for some new thing, any new thing, she thought about picking up where she left off and running away. It wasn’t like there was nothing for her here, it’s just here was too comfortable sometimes.
She loved comfort, but she could feel some piece of herself slipping away, sharp edges of her identity jabbing and aching as they left without her.
“If I left, Spike... what would you do?”
There was no good answer. No right way to make her feel better or worse. If he said nothing, he’d be damned. If he opened his mouth, she might cry.
Spike thought quietly in the darkness, his arm wrapped around her comforting and suffocating.
“I would miss you, but I wouldn’t stop you.”
His breath on her forehead felt like home. Her last home was currently a pile of ash and rubble.
“Whatever you need to do for yourself is your choice to make. I’m not going to stop you leaving, if that’s what you need. If I see you again, I can’t promise what kind of person I’ll be, either, but I won’t hate you for it.”
Spike’s arm retreated and he moved back slightly, just enough to take her face in his hands and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I’m not going to ask if you’re leaving. I won’t ask you to stay, either. I don’t know what this is about, but if you need to go, there’s no stopping you. There’s never been a person in the whole universe who could stop you if you wanted something.”
Faye hiccuped, trying to blink away more tears. “I think about it sometimes,” she confessed. “What if there was? What if I need to be stopped?”
Spike smiled, a warm and firm smile. “I trust you too much to stop you.”
After a moment, he kissed her forehead. “If you asked me to chase you, I would. In a heartbeat, I would. But don’t ask me to stop you.”
Faye buried her face in his chest, allowing herself to be re-enveloped in his arms. “I don’t want to be stopped.“
“I know.”
“Would you really chase me?”
“In a heartbeat. But you would have to ask. I’m not a mind-reader, Faye; if you leave without a word, I won’t follow you. I trust you to do what you need to do. If you want to be followed, you have to give me something to know.”
“... Would you really not follow me if I didn’t say anything?”
“... No. But trust me, you don’t need to know that.”
Faye smiled to herself, the pressure finally easing from her chest.
Trust... it almost feels like like a threat, more than a promise. But this threat has no knives. Only heartbeats that are free.
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astramachina · 4 months
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one thing you need to know about me is that everything i ever write has some nod or reference to the gothic. it's not always aesthetically, but there's always a theme or a motif hidden in there somewhere.
the mall? an entire island? a studio? they're stand-ins for the traditional "haunted house" in the way that what they harbor is dark and damp and rotting away and consuming the characters that move through them. the family secrets aren't always the driving force of the story but they haunt the narrative from beginning to end.
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year
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I think I mentioned it here before but I wrote some paper for a class where I used F1 interviews(like the post-race press pen) as examples, right? My prof asked if she could use it as a sample work for future classes omg!!! But mostly I'm cackling evilly over the fact that F1 is forever memorialized in that paper, I hope someone in the future reads it and is like "...wait a minute" 😭
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mothram · 7 months
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youtube
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bumblequinn · 8 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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copperbadge · 3 months
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So the ADHD Handbook post struck a chord with a lot of people...
I don't think I have it in me to write the book I suggested, mainly because most of what I want to write about is variable by situation. I can't actually offer a magic formula for getting a good assessment, all I would be able to do is say "Here are the warning signs, here's my personal story, shit's just rough". Which I could do but it'd be basically an entire book of "shrug emoji". The best possible way would probably be to offer it as a workbook, like "Here is a page for you to record every communication with the clinic doing your testing. Here is a page for you to write down possible other approaches to getting your medication if the pharmacy is out." etc.
I do think I might write it as a novel of some kind. Possibly even a novel about someone writing a handbook, I haven't decided. I had a dream last night about the book, in which I saw a woman watching a revolution taking place in the distance, thinking, "This is not what I intended when I set out to write a self-help book." Baller way to start a novel, honestly.
Anyway there were several suggestions for books in the notes, so I thought I'd compile those here. I have read none of these, so I can't vouch for their contents, but I'm including what my readers said about them.
@blogquantumreality linked to How To ADHD by Jessica McCabe, who is a well-known ADHD youtuber (I haven't found her videos super helpful but they're also not aimed at me). @knitsinweirdplaces added "The last section of the How to ADHD book is literally called 'how to change the world' and exactly points out we can advocate for a more disability friendly world that traumatizes ADHDer less in the first place. It's the only book I've read that hits the balance of 'your brain has immutable challenges' and 'these strats may help' right. Bonus, it is inclusive of people who use adhd meds and those who don't/can't."
@theindefinitearticle mentioned "I read how to keep house while drowning recently and it's been much more practical for me in terms of actual usable advice." This book has also come up numerous times during National Clean Your Home Month as a helpful guide to cleaning.
@buginateacup said "The year I met my brain is the only one I've read that actually felt like it was making useful suggestions for living with ADHD."
@cabloom said "iampayingattention on Instagram wrote How Not To Fit In."
@grison-in-space said "Do you have any idea how over the top excited I was when I found I Overcame My Autism and All I Got Was This Lousy Anxiety Disorder?"
@doubleminorforroughing wrote "Please read Devon Price. He wants to tear it all down and I love it." I will add that I don't think I've read Laziness Does Not Exist but I have read Price's shortform work extensively and I think he's been very influential in rethinking how we frame laziness and productivity in relation to both work and neurodivergence, so I can second the recommendation.
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sebscore · 1 year
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gen-z driver chaotically taking over martin’s grid walk? thank you!!
KEEPING UP WITH THE GRID
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pairings: f1 team principals, drivers and ex-driver x driver!reader (im too lazy to name everyone im sorry)
warnings: swearing. christian horner. mention of a nipple tweak.
author's note: anon, you are a legend for requesting this! I'm not too proud of the writing, since I wrote this in the middle of the night and my brain doesn't function normally then. but i hope you like it anyway, darling! let me know your thoughts!!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
Y/N was mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a sudden loud voice interrupted her peaceful time. ''How are we feeling about today, Y/N?'' Martin bent his knees, so he could hold the mic up to her face as she sat on the ground. 
''Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.'' She cursed, quickly covering her mouth as she knows she isn't supposed to swear on Sky Sports. ''Uh, I'm feeling pretty good about it, I'm starting on the second row, so not too bad.'' The driver answered his question, smiling sheepishly. 
''You like having alone time before a race?'' He continued, a grin on his face. 
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''I just happen to be alone right now, sometimes I'm chatting with my team or with some of the other drivers.'' 
''Martin, you look a bit tired, you want to sit down?'' She patted the space next to her, feeling bad that he was crouching down while she comfortably sat on the grass. 
The former F1 driver held a look of surprise on his face. ''In all my years I've been doing this, no one has ever offered me to sit down.'' He gave the camera a glance before slowly letting himself sink to the ground. 
''You know, people always wonder 'Where is Martin?' But no one ever wonders 'How is Martin?' We need to take better care of you.'' The man seemed clueless about what she was saying, but he was amused either way. 
''I'm alright, all that walking takes a lot of energy.'' He responded, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. 
Y/N chuckled. ''Yeah, I mean, you've been doing this longer than I've been alive, so I understand that you're tired from all the walking.'' She never let the oppurtunity slip to make him aware of their age gap. 
''Well, let's not talk age,'' he sighed, making her laugh, ''anyway, I think I might just hang around here for the entire segment.'' Martin concluded. 
An idea popped into her head as she heard his words. ''Can I do it? I've always wanted to do it.'' 
Martin was surprised for a second time since joining the young woman. ''You mean I let you go around the grid and talk to people?'' 
She nodded. ''Yes, I love bothering people with my presence.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 
The Brit looked at his cameraman, who adamantly nodded his head to the idea of letting the driver do her thing around the grid. 
Martin let out a deep breath, but handed his mic and headset over. ''Just don't get me fired,'' he said, trying to sound stern, ''and don't curse!'' He quickly added. 
''I won't, I promise! I'll see you later!'' She got up from the ground and put the headset on, slightly altering it so it fit her head perfectly. ''Alright, let's make some controversy.'' Y/N exclaimed, pulling the cameraman along. 
She glanced around the grid, trying to find some interesting people to talk to. ''So, I just need to find a person and ask them questions about whatever I want?'' The athlete asked the cameraman, who simply nodded his head, making the camera shake as well.
''Oh, I love this program!'' She giggled into the microphone, doing a small jump out of happiness. 
Y/N observed the grid, knowing her first ''guest'' needed to be a good one. ''Okay, I've found someone!'' She let the cameraman know, pointing in the direction she wanted to go. 
''Alright,'' she tapped the person's shoulder, having them turn to the camera in confusion, ''the first guest on Y/N's grid walk is the team principal of Mercedes… Petronas… Benz…,'' she tried remembering the full team name, ''Whatever, his name is Susie's husband! Welcome, Susie's husband.'' She introduced Toto. 
The Austrian man was incredibly entertained by the young woman's antics. ''Hello, Y/N.'' 
''I have to ask you- how does it feel to be married to the greatest woman alive?'' She asked him, glancing around to find the woman in question. 
Toto laughed at the question, but proceeded. ''It's great, Susie is an amazing person who has done countless amazing projects and campaigns- I'm a very lucky man.'' The sincere smile on Toto's face when talking about his wife brought a smile to Y/N's face. 
''That's so cute- where is she? I only came over here, because I thought she would be here.'' 
''Unfortunately, she's not here today,'' he told her in a sad tone, ''I know that upsets you, Y/N.'' The driver's girl crush on Susie had been an obvious thing for many years, amusing everyone involved. 
Y/N pouted at his words. ''Well, yeah… that upsets me a lot actuall-''
''What is going on here?'' A British accent interrupted her interview with the team principal. 
''Go away, Russell George! I don't want you on my show.'' Y/N teasingly dismissed George, slapping his arm to get him out of frame. 
The Mercedes driver feigned offense, placing his hand on his heart. ''Why not? I thought we were great friends, Y/L.'' 
''Crikey, crikey, crikey! Don't you have shirtless pictures to post somewhere? Bye bye!'' She quickly got away from the Mercedes team, practically running at one point. 
Y/N let out a big sigh into the mic. ''Martin was right, this is tiring,'' she momentarily stopped in her steps, her hand on her waist, ''OH! Look! It's Charles Lechair!'' Her tiredness from a few seconds before was long forgotten as she strided over to her Monégasque friend. 
''Charles, hello, Charles!'' She put her hand on his back, guiding him to the camera. ''How are you feeling about the race today? What are the strategies? Do they know that word at Ferrari?'' She teased the red team. 
''Uh, we're feeling optimistic today and yeah, I'm ready to give it my all.'' He smiled, putting up his tv-friendly facade, not wanting to trash talk his team on television. 
Y/N raised her eyebrow. ''You're so cute being all positive! Keep that attitude, Perceval!'' She patted his shoulder. ''Thanks for talking to me and good luck!'' She bid him goodbye. 
The young driver walked in all sorts of directions. There were many people present on the grid, yet Y/N had quite a hard time finding people to talk to. It was when she walked by the Red Bull team that she found her next victim. 
''Christian! Christian Horner, hello, welcome!'' She and the team principal didn't have the best history, but she knew the viewers would enjoy the interaction as they knew said history. 
''Everyone, I'm joined here today by Red Bull, uh, Orange, Racing or whatever, F1 Team's team principal, Christian Horner.'' She butchered the team name again, although it was one purpose this time. 
She turned towards the man. ''Christian, I won't hold you up too long, but there is one question that our viewers have been dying to ask you and I think this is the right time to finally do it.'' Y/N build the question up. 
''Yes?'' He seemed a bit nervous, attentively listening to her words. 
''Can you say one nice thing about Y/N Y/L?'' 
The Brit visibly looked relieved at the question, thinking it would be something controversial. ''Of course, she's, uh, a very talented race car driver.'' He nervously smiled at her. 
''You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Christian Horner thinks Y/N Y/L is the most talented driver in the history of Formula One!'' She overdramatized his response. 
''You know what they say, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies even closer.'' She patted Christian's shoulder. ''Thanks for the talk, good luck and I hope you don't win.'' Y/N told him before walking off, hearing him laugh behind her. 
''So far, I've talked to Toto Wolff and Christian Horner,'' she said to the camera, ''enemies to, uh, even worser enemies, I guess.'' 
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''Guys, we're here with Yuki's boyfriend, Pierre Gasly.'' Y/N stood next to the Alpha Tauri driver, shoving the microphone in his face. He took his airpods out of his ears, already chuckling at the girl's actions. 
''How are you doing?'' 
''I'm-''
''That's all the time we have for you, I'm sorry.'' She didn't let him finish his words and walked away from him, quickly giving him a smile so he knew she was entirely joking. 
She stepped further onto the grid, continuing to look for people. ''A bunch of green outfits, not very fashionable- oh, it's Aston Martin! Let's find Sebastian!'' Y/N mixed herself with the Aston Martin team, trying to catch the German driver. 
''Seb! Seb! Can I ask you a few questions?'' She eventually reached the man, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. 
His signature bright smile covered his face. ''Yeah, but where's Martin?'' 
''Me and Martin made an agreement, I get to do the grid walk and he gets to drive my car later- although, he never won any races, so that might not have been a great decision on my part.'' She told Sebastian, who seemed confused and fascinated at the same time. 
''Well, I think you're doing a great job as reporter.'' He deflected her words, not wanting to get in trouble by saying anything about Brundle's lack of GP wins. 
She smiled. ''Thanks, anyway… I know qualifying didn't go too well for you, but are you optimistic about the race?'' 
''Yeah, quali wasn't what we were hoping for,'' he sighed, ''It's gonna be difficult today, but we're gonna try our best to get as much points as we can for the championship.'' Sebastian finished his answer with an encouraging nod. 
''That's great to hear! You've been- oh my god, is that your dad?'' Y/N had glanced away from Sebastian's face for one second and saw Norbert watching them, waving at her once he noticed her looking at him. ''Okay, bye Sebastian! I'm gonna talk to your dad now.'' 
She walked past the Aston Martin driver to approach his father. ''Can I ask you some questions? I swear it's very short.'' She didn't want to burden him for too long. 
Norbert gave her a thumbs up, not minding being interviewed for a short time by her. ''It's okay.'' 
''Amazing! I mean, you're a legend of the paddock, Norbert! The drivers love you, the fans love you, everyone just loves you! Do you feel the love every time you attend a GP?''
Y/N had a good relationship with him as he and Sebastian would sometimes attend her karting tournaments together. Norbert had given her parents advice on how to support the young girl as best as possible. In a nutshell, the Vettel family were some of the greatest people she had ever met. 
''I do feel it, it's a great feeling and everyone is so nice to me.'' He wasn't very confident in his English, so he kept it short. 
Y/N smiled at him, delighted she got the chance to talk to him. ''You're always super sweet to everyone, so it's only right that we reciprocate your kindness,'' she nodded, ''okay, last question! Apart from Seb, who is the driver you're rooting for today? Is it someone you know very well? Or someone who is standing next to you and is asking you amazing questions?'' She played with a strand of her hair, pretending like she wasn't talking about herself. 
He laughed at her words. ''I'm supporting you, of course!'' He exclaimed, his arm going around her shoulder. 
''Oh! You're the best, Norbert! You're my favorite Vettel for a reason!'' Y/N said extra loud, knowing Sebastian would hear it that way. 
''I'll leave you alone now, thank you so much and I'll see you after the race.'' She gave him a brief hug and he wished her good luck, which she thanked him for. 
The cameraman had difficulties keeping up with her, used to the slower pace of Martin. Y/N noticed this and slowed down, sending him an apologetic look. ''Alright, I've talked to Seb, so I feel obligated to talk to Lewis now.'' She commented, trying to look for the 7x World Champion. 
''Where is he? He shouldn't be this hard to find…'' The athlete always saw the Mercedes driver hanging around the grid, chatting with his celebrity friends or getting ready with Angela. 
Y/N frowned. ''I should lore him or something…,'' she thought for a moment, ''vegan food, I have vegan food! Uh, free skydiving session! Oh my god, is that Roscoe on the track?'' She tried making him appear, but the only thing she got was weird looks from bypassers. 
However, a certain blond man caught her attention instead. ''Okay, I can't find Lewis, but this person knows him very well… or used to at least.'' 
''Britney Spears! Can I interview you for the highly respected tv-show, Y/N's grid walk?'' She snuck up to the former Mercedes driver, catching him off guard, but he played it off. ''Sure, I'm very honored.'' His monotone voice almost made her cringe. 
''First question: is it alright if I call you Britney? I don't know how you feel about the nickname.'' 
Nico chuckled at her. ''You can call me that, Y/N.'' 
''Ooooh~ I'm getting special privileges! I like it!'' She was impressed by Nico's answer, not being sure if he would go along with her humor. 
''Next question! How does it feel to be a Monaco based Youtuber? Do you enjoy the influencer life?'' 
The former World Champion snickered at her question, not expecting her to bring up his Youtube channel. ''It feels great, I'm, uh, yeah, enjoying the influencer life.'' She could tell Nico was doing his best to come off as positive as possible. 
''Nice, good for you, dude! Anyway, this was Britney, the man who beat the 7x World Champion, Lewis Hamilton, in equal machinery in 2016!'' She quoted the meme that was often made online when people talked about Rosberg. 
Y/N didn't wait for Nico's reaction, a bit too scared if she was honest, and made a run for it again. ''I've talked to three German guys- wait, is Nico German? He said once that he doesn't drink beer, so I don't know if he's considered German.'' She rambled on, not even listening to the words that were leaving her own mouth. 
''There's Jenson.'' She caught the Brit talking to his Sky Sports colleagues. ''You know what? I've embarrassed myself enough already, I'm not making it any worse.'' Y/N went in another direction so as to not cross paths with him. 
''Too bad he doesn't drive anymore, I would have loved to give him a lucky nipple tweak.'' Martin and Jenson used to have this running gag of the older man giving him a nipple tweak for good luck before a race. 
Y/N didn't see where she was going and almost tripped over someone's foot. ''Oh, shit!'' She loudly exclaimed, balancing herself so she wouldn't fall. ''Oh, fuck I can't swear- wait, shit! Ugh!'' She pulled the microphone away from her face, that way her curses wouldn't be picked up. 
''This isn't live, right? Cause then I'm in trouble, I think.'' She glanced at the cameraman, who mumbled a small ''It is live.'' 
''THIS IS LIVE?'' Y/N gasped, looking absolutely horrified at the thought of thousands of people watching her at that moment. ''Let's find Martin then, I think I've done enough damage.'' 
She headed back to the place where the presenter had approached her. ''Martin! Where is Martin?'' The driver glimpsed around, but no Martin in sight. ''I have oatmeal!'' She yelled, before making eye contact with the camera. ''Old people love oatmeal, right?'' He simply chuckled, not wanting to shake the camera too much with his laughing. 
''Oh, there he is!'' Y/N spotted the man and made her way over to him as fast as she could. ''I definitely didn't say anything controversial or cursed throughout the entire thing.'' She greeted him. 
Martin looked relieved as she handed his microphone and headset back over to him. ''I was out of my element for a while,'' he joked, ''did you have fun, darling?'' 
Y/N nodded her head. ''Yes, I'm even considering changing career paths.'' She chuckled. 
''That's great,'' Martin smiled, confident she made some amazing television, ''well, I think you're gonna have to go, cause I can see your, uh, coach not looking too happy.'' He pointed towards her performance coach staring daggers at her. 
''Oh, fuck, yeah, bye Martin! Thank you so much!'' Y/N quickly thanked the man for letting her take over his segment and she dashed out of there, hoping her team wouldn't be too upset about her disappearing into the grid to ask everyone ridiculous questions. 
''She's a special one for sure.'' 
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alyakthedorklord · 11 months
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Part 3 of Batman the Playboy, in which I change my mind about the reveal in part 2:
Batman: “So you didn’t notice?”
-justice league record scratches-
GL, horrified: “No. there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way…”
Batman’s grin would fit better on a supervillain, before he suddenly, miraculously, transforms. He leans back, tilts his head, the smirk isn’t evil but instead inviting and amused: “Really, Mr. Jordan, your job is just so fascinating… tell me more about planes…”
GL: 😨
Batman, turning on the rest of the league, one by one, changing his body language ever so slightly for each person: “Mr. Allen, I do hope you’ll entertain me again if I’m ever back in central, I had a grand time. Dinah darling, I stand by what I said, Ollie was SO much nicer to kiss when we were in college. Princess, the boys and I are in your debt. Mr. Jones…”
Batman’s mind goes no thoughts, head empty. Martian Manhunter is both impressed and embarrassed, nodding in understanding as Batman turns to the final hero, smiling sweetly, brain still empty as a blank sheet of paper: “And, Mr. Kent…”
Batman steps closer, hand on Superman’s chest, hip cocked, Brucie Wayne smile in full effect: “Our conversation got… cut off, the other night, because I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with me going further, which is a damn shame. Call on me, won’t you?”
Superman, realizing why a very eager Brucie Wayne stopped their makeout session short: “…huh? OH- um.. uh huh.”
Green Arrow, short circuiting: “No fucking- BRUCIE? How? How is that possible?”
Batman, backing away from a shutdown superman, the physical mask on his face hardly the most effective one in his arsenal: “Because I’m Batman.”
Bonus for @help-i-need-a-cool-username: Hal Jordan STILL doesn’t know who bruce wayne is.
a few months later:
GL: “So this big old money billionaire guy in gotham is connected to this, i think he’s called Wayne or smth.”
Justice league: “…”
Flash, had a FULL DAY of Brucie and was VERY aware of who he was with: “Uh… Hal?”
Green Lantern, who heard Bruce’s name in passing, while distracted, under loud club music + has tried to erase that night from his memory: “what?”
Batman, under his breath: “We can find your secret identity so easily, batman, you’re not that good, Batman, we’re just being polite, Batman.” Sure you fucking can, Jordan. You know, it’s polite to remember the names of people who you’ve fondled.”
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chimielie · 11 months
Text
what it is
summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)
word count: 1.3k
cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses
a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting
“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.
“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.
You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.
Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).
Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.
You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.
Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”
You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.
Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.
You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.
“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”
You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.
“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”
The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—
You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.
Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.
“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.
“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.
You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”
You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?
“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.
“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”
“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—
“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”
Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.
“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.
“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”
Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.
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worldlxvlys · 4 months
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collide
matt sturniolo x singer! reader
warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, grinding
a/n: hope you enjoyyyy <33
“thank you guys so much for all the support and coming out here tonight” i said into the microphone.
the audience members replied with deafening applause and cheers.
i laughed into the microphone, still soaking in this unreal experience.
i had gotten about halfway through my set, and now was just taking a quick breather.
“i also wanted to give a huge thank you to my best friends, for always being there for me and constantly showering me with love and support” i said as i glanced over to the triplets.
best friends. well, two of them were my best friends. matt, however, was more than that to me.
we were dating, but we hadn’t told the fans yet, not wanting to deal with the hate that would most likely come with it.
but the fans aren’t dumb.
due to their insane attention to details, they were easily able to pick up on the feelings that matt and i had for one another. they just didn’t know that we’ve acted on them.
once i put out my first album of songs, titled chemistry, the fans quickly realized i was with someone. they had their suspicions, but i never confirmed that it was about matt.
most of the tracks on the album were love songs that i wrote over the years. they weren’t even necessarily for matt, i just wrote them whenever i was overwhelmed by my feelings for him and needed a way to get them out.
song writing helped me to process my feelings, and it just so happens that matt takes up almost every thought in my brain.
“i wouldn’t have made it this far without you guys and i’ll never truly be able to put into words how grateful i am” i said while looking at the boys in the VIP section.
in response, nick smiled and blew kisses while recording the interaction, like a proud mom at their child’s performace; chris did an awkward happy dance and screamed “we love you!” , and matt sat there with a lovesick look on his face and a shit-eating grin.
after a few more, we got to my favorite song on the setlist.
“this next song, literally just came out and is already doing so well, and i thank you for that” i was met with more applause.
after introducing the song, the first few chords played and then stopped, teasing the audience.
they went wild. after a few seconds, the intro really started to play.
MATT’S POV
i been knowing you for long enough
damn, i need you right now
she looks so good. her outfit was tight, fitting her in all the right places and accentuating her curves.
you can take your time, don’t have to rush
this might take us a while
she sounds incredible live. her voice is smooth as she effortlessly slides through the runs, never missing a note.
i left all the doors unlocked and you said you’re on your way
when you get here don’t you say a word, got no time to play
she might genuinely be a siren, luring me in with her seductive, yet somehow sweet and innocent-sounding voice. her tone is crystal clear and it almost makes me want to cry.
we can go all the time
we can move fast, then rewind
when you put your body on mine
and collide, collide
she starts to sway her hips to the beat, and i genuinely think i might lose it.
wanna see your body on mine
and collide, collide
her skin is coated with a light layer of sweat, making her body glisten under the lights. she looks like a goddess.
baby it’s all yours if you want me,
all yours if you want me
she looked directly at me when she sang this line, and the feeling of the intense eye contact went straight to my dick.
put it down if you want me tonight
she smirked lightly, no doubt enjoying how red my face was turning. she knows what she’s doing.
she made her way through the song, continuing to tease me. she would slowly run a hand down her body or lean forward to sing to the crowd, giving me a perfect view of her breasts.
god, they look like they’re gonna fall out of her top.
when she got to the bridge, i swear the sound of her voice alone almost made my eyes roll back.
i know that this is love when we touch boy
you got my heart
and can’t nobody make me feel like you do
boy like you do
the fact that there was so much tension between us, despite being so far away was driving me crazy.
it could be one of those nights
where we don’t turn off the lights
wanna see your body on mine and collide, collide
i could listen to the sound of her voice for the rest of my life.
i love it when she talks, when she laughs, when she sings, when she moans.
i swear when she hits certain notes, it almost sounds like she’s moaning. but no one else knows that, because i’m the only one who pulls those sounds from her pretty mouth.
those pretty lips, always soft and glossy, perfect for kissing.
by this point, my dick was throbbing as it pressed against my jeans.
said it’s all yours if you want me,
all yours if you want me
put it down if you want me
let’s collide
her head fell back as she finished the last note, basking in the endless amounts of applause she received.
her neck looks so pretty, i need to kiss it.
she looks up at me again, moving her tongue across her teeth.
yeah, she’s definitely doing this on purpose.
the further she got through her setlist, the more turned on i was.
her tits bounced when she jumped around during her upbeat songs.
at one point, she was full-on twerking. she threw her ass in a circle, her skirt riding up the slightest bit. i fully thought i was going to cum in my pants.
after she finished the last song, she began to adjust her skirt while she gave her closing speech. when she moved her hand, i saw the waistband of her panties peek through.
waistband, if you could even call it that. it became evident that she was wearing a g-string under her skirt.
i completely zoned out of what she was saying, too focused on all of the filthy thoughts that began to flood my mind.
before i knew it, there was another round of applause before she walked off of the stage.
suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
READER POV
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after a few minutes, i heard a knock on my dressing room door.
i opened the door to reveal matt and i quickly pulled him in before closing and locking the door.
“hi baby” i whispered.
“hi my love” he said before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“you did amazing, baby. and you sound better and better every time you sing”
i looked down bashfully, the corner of my lips turning up into a grin. “thanks”
he placed his finger under my chin, pushing it up to look at him.
“ you shy now, baby? didn’t seem like it when you were shaking your ass on that stage”
i glanced at his lips before looking back up at his eyes.
“you liked that, baby?” i asked as i turned around, moving my hair over my shoulder.
i began to grind on him, moving my ass on his hard dick.
“fuck yes, baby. shittt” he groaned as one of his hands wrapped around my waist, the other moving to grab my boob through my top.
the hand that was around my waist moved under my panties, gently rubbing my clit.
“fuckkkk matt” i sighed out, my head pressing against the door.
his breathing got heavy as he rutted his hips against my ass, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.
“talk to me baby, please. gotta here that pretty voice” he choked out as his voice got slightly higher in pitch.
“ yeah baby? like the way my ass feels against your bulge? want me to twerk on you?” before he could answer, i bent over slightly.
my skirt inched up, exposing my ass and making his fully erect cock dig into it.
“fuck! you can’t do that, baby. i’m gonna cum”
“take these off for me” i said, pulling on his jeans.
he quickly complied, unbuckling his belt and pulling them off while i turned around to face him.
he swiftly picked me up, bringing me over to a vanity and placing me down on top of it.
my back was pressed up against the mirror, which was cool against my burning skin.
he brought his lips to mine in a hot, desperate kiss.
his hands crept under my skirt, pulling my panties off without breaking the kiss.
he smoothly pocketed them before collecting my wetness with his finger, using it as a lubricant to push his digit inside of me.
“shit, matt” i moaned out as he fucked me with his finger.
i reached down between us, stroking his length through his boxers.
he added another finger, stretching me out.
“oh my god, matt. so fucking good” my eyebrows furrowed as i leaned my forehead against his.
“gotta make sure my princess is nice and stretched, never wanna hurt you” he spoke between grunts.
i moved my fingers to the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and watching his dick slap his stomach.
his tip was red and covered in pre-cum.
he removed his fingers from my aching pussy while i pumped him a few times, before guiding him inside of me.
we both groaned at the feeling of my walls squeezing him as i took him inch by inch.
he gave me a minute to adjust before thrusting into me deep and hard.
i screamed his name, probably loud enough for anyone outside of the room to hear.
“yes baby, lemme hear that gorgeous voice. god, i love hearing you say my name”
matt pushed his hips up into mine with full force, his hands on my waist to hold me steady.
“you feel so good wrapped around me like this baby. you’re so good” he whispered.
he pushed me into the mirror with each thrust, producing a loud thud each time it hit the wall.
the vanity shook under me as he kept up his relentless pace.
matt took my legs and hooked them over his shoulder, continuing to ram into me.
i felt my orgasm approaching, and i grabbed onto matt’s biceps, needing something to hold onto.
“matt matt matt, i’m gonna cum!” i yelled frantically.
“me too, give it to me baby. wanna feel you dripping down my cock” his words sent me over the edge.
with a final cry i released all over him, while he filled me up.
he thrusted a few more times, helping us ride out our highs before pulling out.
“god damn” i whispered out as we watched our juices spill out of me.
“you’re so fucking amazing” he said as he cleaned us up.
after we got dressed and made our appearances look somewhat presentable we stepped out of the dressing room.
“where are your brothers?” i asked with furrowed brows.
i pulled out my phone and saw a text from nick.
we’re going outside to wait. we can hear you freaky fucks from across the venue.
matt and i looked at each other and bursted out laughing.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf
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matzprincess · 2 months
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HOT TO GO! (k.hj)
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pairing: non idol!hongjoong + afab!reader
rating: mature (18+) minors dni!
a/n: i got carried away and wrote full smut, sorry not sorry hehehe
trafoamp series
cw: smut, long leadup, boyfriend!hongjoong, dancing/clubbing, song lyrics incorporated (the song plays at the club), mention of p in v at first, relating to the lyrics, making out, quickie, public sex (fucking in a club bathroom), unprotected sex & pull out method (be safe irl!), ‘emergency lube’ used, joong is a panty thief, one singular spank, more sex foreshadowed
it was a hot saturday night when the new hottie you’ve been seeing casually, kim hongjoong, showed up to your place to take you out to the club for some dancing. he looked even more irresistible tonight than ever, his blonde hair pushed back, his silk button up with the buttons opened at the top, showing off his pecs. he also wore some slacks and what looked to be an overpriced belt, which you would normally have poked fun at him for, but tonight it really tied his look together.
you joined him in the lyft that waited for you both outside your apartment, and you sat together in the backseat. he looked hot, and you looked hot, we’re gonna be the hottest couple in the club tonight, for sure you thought to yourself. as you arrived to the club you guys waited in line to have your ids checked, before walking in to the dim club lights, both of your groups of friends were there, but tonight was about you two, your friends could wait.
you both made it out on the floor, and began dancing amongst yourselves. it was not before the perfect song for the moment came on: hot to go! by chappell roan. as the intro played:
five six, five six seven eight!
you grabbed his hand as the beat began. you moved to the middle of the dance floor as the lyrics started and said:
i could be the one or your new addiction
it’s all in my head, but i want nonfiction
you two began freely moving your bodies together to the beat. as the lyrics went on, you kept on moving, working up the sweat due to the heat of the club and the sweaty bodies around you. you were thinking how perfect this moment was, the song and your ridiculously hot dance partner/boyfriend all fitting together perfectly as the song continued:
baby do you like this beat?
i made it so you’d dance with me
it’s like a hundred ninety-nine degrees
when you’re doing it with me, doing it with me
it was indeed perfect, because it did feel like it was hotter than hell in the club on the crowded dance floor. it was all the more hot because you had hongjoong at your side. the song continued to the chorus:
H-O-T-T-O-G-O
you can take me hot to go
H-O-T-T-O-G-O
you can take me hot to go
you kept on dancing with him, watching him move his body alongside yours, getting all sweaty, was making you think about how he’d look on top of you, getting sweaty like this while moving his body in tandem with yours like on the dance floor, but instead, fucking your brains out. the second verse went on:
well i woke up alone, staring at the ceiling
i try not to care, but it hurts my feelings
you don’t have to stare, come here, get with it
no one’s touched me there in a damn hot minute
you reflected on the lyrics as you danced, thinking about how you could relate, you haven’t been touched anywhere in a hot minute, and you wanted hongjoong badly now, after this song was over, you knew exactly what to do. the song went on, and distracted you from your thoughts:
and baby don’t you like this beat?
i made it so you’d sleep with me
it’s like a hundred ninety-nine degrees
when you’re doing it with me, doing it with me
the song continued to it’s catchy prechorus and chorus, eventually finishing, you felt the urge pull hongjoong into the club bathroom and to fucking, which you just happened to do. you took his hand and dragged him quickly into the biggest stall in the women’s bathroom before making out with him. he was caught off guard, but not hesitating, as you moved this on and pulled away from the kiss.
“i need you so badly” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. he just chuckled, “i need you too” he said, before his hands began to feel you up and pull the bottom of your dress up. you grabbed your emergency travel sized bottle of lube from your bag and pulled down his zipper and took out his cock before putting some lube onto it.
he then removed your panties before slipping them into his pocket. you smiled at his dirty action and bent over the toilet and held onto the lid for him to insert himself into you. as he did so, you could hear the slight sound of the club music from outside the bathroom. he thrust into you from behind, his hips snapping against your ass, causing him to groan at the recoil of your ass against him. he kept thrusting, both of your breathing getting heavier as you both began to sweat.
he held onto your hips and kept a steady rhythm of thrusts, him groaning quietly and you moaning in a hushed tone. as you both reached your orgasms, you felt like your body was on fire, you never did anything this risky before, you felt bad, but in the best way possible. he kept fucking into you, both of you wishing no one would walk in as you both chased your upcoming releases.
your orgasms weren’t too eventful, they hit you both at about the same time, him making you cum first before he pulled out and came on your ass. he groaned an almost inaudible “fuck” as he came. after you came down from your highs, he grabbed a large wad of toilet paper and wiped down your ass, giving it a slight tap after doing so. he chuckled as you pulled your dress down and he put his dick away.
you kissed him on the cheek as you both regulated yourselves, you both made a dash out of the bathroom and back into the dimly lit club, hand in hand. you guys hid in the corner to order a lyft back to your apartment, his arm around your waist. you knew there would be more sex to come when you got back to your place.
© 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐳𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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Dinner and Dessert
Azriel x Pregnant! OC (Mira)
Word Count - 3.6k
Summary - as his mate's due date approaches, Az can't handle the sight of her pregnant body in a sundress without going a bit feral.
Warnings - light swearing, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnant body, breeding k!ink (if you squint), tons of sexual tension, explicit sex described (oral f recieving, fingering f recieveing, p in v)
Author's Note - This fic was written for being the clear winner of this poll. Also, a special dedication to my fellow monkey brain @chairofchaos for being with me every step of the way as I wrote this and for being so very strong and not allowing me to spoil it as it came together. Enjoy pookie. 😘
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“We really should have planned this out better you know,” Mira’s voice echoed through the entryway as she descended the stairs. The shadows made a swirling lap around her body as she landed on the last step, Azriel gliding from the living room doorway to meet her. 
“Planned what out better, my love?”
“Being this pregnant in the middle of summer,” she sighed. “Nothing fits anymore and I’m constantly hot. I swear I’m carrying a tiny furnace in here at this point.” Mira’s hands slid over the large swell of her belly, tucking the drape of her dress under it as she cradled the weight from below.
Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement, flaring with heat when her hands found their resting place. The roundness of her belly on full display in the flowing fabric.
“That dress,” his voice rumbled, eyes lingering along her frame as his wings gave a slight tremble.
“Like I said, nothing fits anymore,” his mate twisted her lips in a pout. “The options are limited.” Releasing the hold on her stomach, Mira brought her hands up to the neckline, tugging it back to a more conservative height.
In a flash, Az’s hand stilled hers as he stepped closer, chest pressing against her exposed shoulder as he stood at her side. With his other hand, he replaced the hold she had along the bottom of that beautiful mound. The thin summer weight fabric allowed her to feel every ridge along his palm as it slid into place and she shivered in his hold from the sensation.
“I’m not complaining,” Az whispered as he bent to nuzzle along that dangerously low neckline. “But if you aren’t comfortable, you could always take it off.” With a tilt of his head, he peeked up from her cleavage that was threatening to spill out with a darkened stare.
“Azriel, stop,” she giggled with a push against his shoulder. “We’re going to be late.”
“It’s fine,” came his mumbled reply from between her generous breasts. “Let’s be late.” One of his hands now slipped to the small of her back, the curvature deepened with the weight she now carried. A low groan sounded from his chest.
Az had always loved his mate’s body. Every soft spot and curve and blemish. But something about the last months, watching everything about it change and grow with his child growing inside her, made him insatiable. The dress she was now wearing with the hem dancing along her feet and the waistline settling on the top of that bump, was the final straw. He was done for. 
Just as he began to bend at the knee to scoop her into his arms, she shoved against him once more. “Azriel, seriously. Stop,” she laughed. “This is probably the last family dinner I’ll be able to go to for a while. I want to go. I don’t want to be late.”
“Ok,” he sulked momentarily. “You’re right. To dinner we shall go then.” He gestured widely with his arm towards the door in a mocking tease. “But you know we could spare some time if you would just let me winnow us there.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “I would prefer not to lose my appetite before dinner, thank you.” Ever since the pregnancy had neared its end, she couldn’t stomach winnowing any longer. The short step through the dark felt like more of a lurch and left her heaving afterwards and Az was entirely too nervous to fly with her in this state. “Besides, it's nice out - even if it is hot.”
“Fine. But we aren’t staying for dessert.” With a devilish grin, Azriel stooped to kiss his mate’s pouty lips. The hand along her back swept lower and with a start he pulled back, staring into her eyes with a look of shock.
“What?” she questioned with a furrowed brow.
“Mira, my love, are you –,” his hand explored a handful of her backside. “Are you not wearing any underwear?”
“Oh. Yeah,” she started as she made her way towards the door with a smug smile. “Those don’t fit anymore either.”
She let out another giggle as Azriel grumbled behind her, scrubbing one large hand down his face. “You’re fucking killing me.”
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Thankfully, the walk to the River House was short enough that Mira wasn’t completely worn out. The entire way over she couldn’t help smiling as she noticed Azriel casually falling behind a few steps so he could get a long hard look at her backside as she walked. She may or may not have put a little more swagger in her already unsteady gait just for fun.
As she approached the front door, Azriel sidled up to her again. His hand slipped over her butt before settling low on her back, his fingers gently rubbing. Before she could even reach for the door handle, his other hand was once again cradling the underside of her protruding belly.
“What is with you today?,” she chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder.
“I can’t help it,” he smiled against her neck as he licked at the sheen of sweat that had gathered there. “You. This dress. Your beautiful belly with my baby inside. When I hold you like this, it feels like I’m holding my entire world in my hands.” He gave her a gentle tug as he settled his body closer, his hard length pressing through his clothing into her hip. Soft lips traveled up the side of her neck before nibbling at her earlobe. “It just does something to me,” he whispered.
“Az, honey,” Mira sang sweetly. “I’m starving.”
“Ok,” he said as he moved to stand behind her, his insistent hardness now pressing into her plump backside.
“We should go in.”
“Ok,” he mumbled against the back of her neck, hands now skimming over the flare of her hips.
“I need to open the door to do that.”
“Ok,” he whispered along one shoulder as both hands now cradled her belly. 
With a gentle lift he took the weight and shifted upward. The strain in her back instantly felt relief and the ache in her hips eased. The noise that left her was entirely involuntary as her hands gripped over his arms.
“Oooh, that feels so good,” she practically moaned and she felt his length twitch against her.
With a nip at her exposed shoulder, Az released his own sinful noise. “That is a very dangerous thing to say right about now.”
She didn’t even get the chance to respond as suddenly the door flung open. 
“I thought I heard someone out here,” Rhys said with a smirk, his violet eyes twinkling. “Dinner is ready if you are staying.”
“Yes, please,” Mira laughed as Rhys turned to head back inside and she moved to follow him. Azriel held back for just a moment as he adjusted himself outside on the doorstep.
Family dinner moved at a leisurely pace, much as it always did. Mira was in her element enjoying the conversation and food, laughing animatedly with their table mates. The night moved much too leisurely for Azriel however. He had begun the night with gentle touches, unable to keep his hands off his glowing mate. A hand along her thigh under the table, arm slung over the chair back caressing her shoulder with his fingertips, soft lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered to her.
Now, the touches were much more insistent and his leg bounced anxiously the entire time. A firm squeeze to her knee as Mira shifted in her seat, a sharp nibble to her shoulder as he tucked a pillow behind her back, a rough graze of his knuckles along her hip reminding him that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Like he needed the reminder. It was all he could think about.
As the conversation died down and the plates were cleared away, Mira stood stretching out her aching back. Instantly, Azriel was at her side, one arm slipping around her waist as he began ushering her towards the door. 
“Az, slow down,” she huffed out a laugh as he fought to keep his strides from outpacing hers.
“I made chocolate torte,” Elain’s musical voice announced from the dining room behind them.
“Ooooh,” Mira sighed as she twisted out of Az’s hold before he could flare out a wing to stop her. “Chocolate!”
She didn’t even make it a single step in the opposite direction before one scarred hand encircled her wrist. With a tender tug, she was spun back around into her mate’s arms and pressed tight to his chest. A protest bubbled in her throat but before she could voice it, Azriel drowned it out with a hard sweeping kiss.
Relaxing against him, she felt the hand gripping the back of her head tighten as his tongue dove in, finding its way to hers. Tangling and twisting, the kiss deepened. With a reluctant groan, Az pulled his face back and gazed into his mate’s eyes gauging her reaction.
Mira noted it had gone eerily quiet as he had kissed her. Suddenly she understood why. They were no longer standing in the River House foyer, but instead in their own shared bedroom.
“I thought if I distracted you first it wouldn’t make you sick,” Azriel smirked a sly grin.
“It worked,” she said breathlessly, flashing hot all over for reasons other than the weather.
His lopsided smile grew as he watched the color flood her face. Bending, he scooped his mate up in his arms and with one large step moved to the bed, depositing her squarely in the middle. 
Before she could get her elbows underneath herself to sit up some, he was tearing at his clothing. Belt ripped from his waistband followed quickly by his pants.
“Don’t move,’ he warned in a sultry tone as he watched her trying to pull herself up. The buttons of his shirt met their demise as they popped off with a tug.
Mira giggled as she heard them pop and hit the floor somewhere in the room. “I’m not even undressed.”
“Keep it on,” Azriel growled. 
Pulling her elbows from beneath herself, she fell back on the bed, watching as he began to crawl toward her. His large hand quickly found the hem of her dress that was now pushed up around her knees. Worming its way underneath, his skin met hers and before she knew it he was pushing against the inside of one leg.
She didn’t resist, knees parting as she made room for his body to settle between them. With a quick flutter of fabric, he disappeared, head buried underneath her dress and burrowing between her thighs.
A small sound of surprise squeaked out of her at his quickness, but it was covered immediately with a sharp gasp. In just a couple passes of his tongue, Azriel was at her clit and circling that sensitive bud. The grip on her hips increased as he moaned into her folds, the vibration caused her breath to shudder.
“I thought about this all through dinner,” he rumbled before lapping insistently at her arousal. “You. Completely bare. Ready and waiting for me under this dress.” He accentuated his words with hard passes of his tongue between them.
Mira’s breaths were hardly more than quick pants now as his tongue continued those circles with ferocity. Dipping down to gather more of her arousal along his tongue, she let out a whining moan.
Tongue returning to its task, one hand released her leg and snaked its way to her entrance, fingertips teasing.
“Az,” she whimpered.
Slowly, he began pressing a finger into her core. 
“Az, wait,” she panted. “Hold on a second.”
He felt her shifting her hips within his grasp as he flipped her dress off of his head. 
“What’s wrong?” His voice carried a hint of panic as he noticed one of her arms cradling her belly.
“I need to move,” she shifted her hips once more in an effort to slide onto her side. “I can’t breathe well on my back like this.”
His panic subdued, he quickly raised himself up into a kneel and helped her to roll more comfortably on her side. Leaning to grab a pillow, he had her lift a bit so he could tuck in beneath her belly for support.
“Better?” he asked with a tender trailing sweep of his hand over her stretched skin. 
“Much,” she sighed contented. “You can continue.”
Azriel belted out a ringing laugh. “Gladly, my love.”
Pulling her bottom leg straight out along the bed, he laid himself across the end of the mattress. Mira lifted her top leg as Az laid his head on the pillow of her thigh. Grabbing her lifted leg under the knee, he propped it against his body so that her foot was planted against his ribs before tucking his arm over it. 
“Now where was I?” he pondered aloud. “Here?” He lapped one long strip through her folds.
“Or, maybe it was –,” another pass of his tongue had him barely grazing her clit. “Here?”
“Azriel, don’t tease,” she pleaded as she dug her heel into his ribcage. 
“Yes, it was here,” he smiled wickedly to himself. With the same quickness as before, Az dove back in like a starved male. Driving his tongue against that throbbing bud, he brought his fingers back to her entrance. 
Now able to draw in a full breath, Mira was gasping and moaning with intensity with each flick against her. He couldn’t keep up with the arousal that dripped from her, coating his fingers as he inserted two of them fully. 
“Ah! Yes-Az” She cried out loudly, gripping the sheets in front of her face.
Setting a solid steady pace with his hand, he drew her clit between his lips and pulled, creating suction against it as he flicked against it. 
Her cries became a scream as the leg propped against him trembled. Pulling his other arm from beneath him, he reached up, gliding his palm along her taut stomach and pressed gently where he knew she felt that familiar tightening sensation. 
Her back arched and pressed her belly deeper into his palm. Azriel felt the beginning ripples of her climax roll over his fingers from inside her. With a pull, he curled them. 
That’s when all the breath left her. The pressure against that sweet spot inside left her hanging on a gasping cry. Every muscle in her back and legs tensed in unison as that white hot pleasure crashed through her.The intense clench of her walls pulsed over his fingers. The sweeping ripple through her belly against his palm made him pant out in surprise. As she came down from that peak, Az gave one light pass of his tongue over her clit, feeling her jolt against him before pulling his face back and slowly withdrawing his fingers.
Easing her leg from over his body, he brought himself up and curled his body around her from behind. Sweeping her hair away from her neck, Az nestled his lips against her heated skin, the tips of his fingers trailing lightly over her side. Mira was still slowing her labored breath as she pressed a palm to the side of her clothed belly.
“Does it hurt?” Az asked with a slightly worried tone.
“No,” she sighed contentedly. “It was just - intense.” She let out a satisfied hum as his palm replaced hers, finding that tight muscle with ease. 
Wiggling deeper into the mattress, she felt his still adamant hardness pressed against her. “What are you thinking about back there?” She laughed, arching her butt against him.
“You already know the answer to that,” he said gruffly into her neck. After a beat of pause he brought his lips to the shell of her ear. “What are you thinking about?”
He felt her tremble as his breath coasted over that sensitive spot and he couldn’t resist giving it a teasing lick as well.
“Mmm,” she groaned, pushing back against him harder. “I’m thinking about – chocolate.” Her merry laugh rang through the space as Az huffed his own amusement against her temple. “Among other things,” she said in a low tone. Reaching her arm back, she grazed her nails along his hip, the brush of her skin causing him to buck against her involuntarily.
“Help me,” she said as her hand left his hip and grabbed the fabric bunched around her hips. “It’s too hot for this.”
Pushing into a kneel once more, Az helped her maneuver the dress from her body, revealing more and more of her full frame as he did. Tossing the dress to the floor, he paused for a moment, kneeling behind her bent knees in awe.
Fully exposed and still laying on her side, every voluptuous asset was on full display. His hands explored the access this position afforded him. Every curve that drove him wild easily reached. Her heavy breasts that filled his palms, her ample ass that jiggled when he grabbed it, her firm belly that held their child within. His child. 
With a teasing bite to her luscious thigh, Az once again pulled her lower leg straight before straddling his legs over it. Grabbing her other ankle, he wrapped her leg around his waist, holding it firmly above his hip bone. 
Shifting closer, he notched his length against her exposed entrance. His hand smoothly followed the curve of her butt before dipping into the arc of her lower back. That deepened well, strained with the weight of the child she carried left him powerless. 
As he pushed his hips against her arousal slicked core and entered her fully, Mira moaned. And Azriel whimpered. 
He had known all along that this moment would be his undoing. He had ensured that she received her pleasure first and foremost before he buried himself in her warmth knowing that he was unlikely to hold out. As his hips found their rhythm, he folded himself over, nuzzling at her breast with a moan. 
The tight pull of his climax was building in intensity with each thrust. He held back his need to drive himself harder, relishing in the pleasure of his soft rhythm. Mira’s arm snaked under his chest attempting to reach between her parted thighs. With her belly in the way, she couldn’t find purchase against the aching need that pulsed there. Lifting up slightly, Az threw her arm over his shoulder and replaced her reach with his own, thumb dancing deliciously against her clit. 
She began writhing underneath him, her quiet pants and sultry moans building in intensity until he felt her fluttering around him. He no longer held back, pushing himself desperately into her with a snap of his hips. Her arm grasped against his back, scratching at the space between his wings. 
“Az. Az. Az,” she moaned breathlessly with each thrust he gave. He couldn’t bring himself to produce any sound in return, every bit of his energy concentrated on the feeling of her walls constricting his twitching length. Another thrust and she was coming apart beneath him, clenching hard around him. One more and his own release was barreling through him.
Her name left his lips in a cry. Every pulse of release stole his breath further until he collapsed on top of her gasping for air.
Moments passed as they collected their breath before Az shifted into a roll carefully avoiding landing his weight on his mate’s belly and settled in front of her. Her middle pressed against his own, his hand swept tenderly back and forth over it. Her eyes slipped closed and her breath evened out into the quiet pattern of almost sleep.
“Tired?” he asked, brushing the hair from her face. 
“Mhm,” she replied in a sigh, rubbing her cheek into his palm.
Azriel remained as he was, hand cradling her face as he stared at his mate in wonder. His mate. His partner through life. The mother of his child. 
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he removed his hand and replaced it with a kiss. Mira just gave another throaty noise in response, not bothering to open her eyes.
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Some minutes later, Mira was awoken from slumber as Azriel cursed to himself. Popping her eyes open she watched as he stumbled through the bedroom door, arms laden with a tray in one hand and a steaming mug in another. Kicking the door shut behind him with his heel she noticed he was once again fully dressed. 
“Where did you go?” she asked sleepily as she pulled herself up to sitting, dragging the blanket Az had left over her up around her chest. 
“I felt bad that I made you skip dessert,” he smiled at her as he lowered the tray over her lap. Upon the tray sat half of Elain’s chocolate torte, still in its original pan, two forks laid across the empty half. 
“Oh, Azriel,” she brightened with delight, grabbing his face as he bent to place the mug on the tray as well. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she giggled as she peppered his face with kisses. 
Turning back to the tray, she snatched the torte pan and settled it squarely on top of her round belly, digging in expeditiously. 
“Mmm,” she moaned, closing her eyes as she savored the rich taste.
“It almost sounds like the chocolate is better than the sex,” Az teased as he climbed into bed next to her. 
“Oh,” she laughed. “It’s definitely up there,” she held her thumb and forefinger apart barely touching as she squinted at him.  “A very close second I’d say.”
Az released a booming laugh before he too grabbed a fork and settled in for dessert.
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koqabear · 2 years
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Hey Emo Boy!
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☆ Song suggestion: Emo Boy, Ayesha Erotica ☆
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Summary:
He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven. 
bassist!Beomgyu x fem! reader
Genre: opposites attract trope, friends to lovers, fluff, smut
Word count: 9.4K
Warnings: mc dresses like a BIMBO and we love it! mc gets stereotyped a bit, lots of piercings, needles, (bg gets pierced lol) mc has a smiley and nipple piercings, bg has snake bites and a tongue piercing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, Chaeryeong is a real one
Smut warnings: dom!bg, sub!mc, slight possessiveness, teasing, making out, thigh riding, dirty talk, dumbification, praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nipple play, bg loves mc’s boobs, oral, (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, bulge kink, scratching, unprotected sex, breeding kink(?), creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)
Notes: im sorry, but Beomgyu’s long hair era has me in such a chokehold that I think I passed out and wrote this. I’d like to think that in the concert their opener was “Destroya” by mcr (assuming that its their song in this universe) And why yes, I do have a list of other songs they would perform, you can totally go ask me this on my blog! 
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Your friends always said you had an obscure taste in men— you always laughed in their face in response. 
But as you stand behind the Claire’s register, ready to clock back onto a never-ending ten-hour shift of piercing little girl’s ears unprofessionally, you can’t help but be reminded of the thought. 
There he is again, your brain tells you, an involuntary reaction as you pause your actions to glance out into the empty mall; just in time to watch the cute boy with snake bite piercings that works at the store across from you rush inside. 
Honestly, whose idea was it to put a Spencer’s in front of a Claire’s store? It was a mistake waiting to happen— but you indulged in it nonetheless, the convenient placement allowing you to catch a glimpse of one of the workers that captivated you. You’re not sure of his name, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to talk to him— you’ve never gone into a Spencer's, and plan to keep it that way. Honestly, his whole style couldn’t be more opposite than yours, but there was something about him that made you curious, eager for more. 
“Are you staring at that emo boy again?” You jump at the sound of your coworkers voice, startled to find her standing behind you, a knowing look on her face as she shakes her head. “Girl, just go fuck him already.” 
“Shut up!” You balk, glancing around the store in a panic to see if there were any customers around— it was empty, considering it was a Thursday evening, “and no, I wasn’t.” 
“Don’t lie to me,” Chaeryeong says, checking her acrylics absentmindedly, leaning against the counter with a sigh, “you’ve been staring at him all week. You should totally go talk to him.” 
“You think? I don’t know if he’d be into someone like me though,” you look down at your outfit, the complete opposite of what the man in the store across from you sported— while his outfit consisted of dark, edgy outfits, yours were nothing but feminine and cute. 
“Why not? You’re hot,” Chaeryeong’s words bring an uncontrollable swell of confidence to you, and you allow yourself to bask in the compliments that she continues to goad onto you.
“He’s lucky you tone down your fits to suit this place, cause if you didn’t,” she whistles, exaggerating her reaction as you slap her shoulder jokingly, “man, we’d be swamped with customers.” 
“You really think I should try to talk to him?” You ask, biting your lip nervously at the thought; what if he was an asshole? What if he thought you were some superficial bimbo? Was he one of those creeps that thought they were better than women? What if he was gay?
“Stop overthinking things, I can see the questions from here,” Chaeryeong bats at the air mockingly, laughing at the petulant look you give her. Her teasing is interrupted by the motion sensor bell going off, and the two of you are quick to put on your customer-service personas as you turn to face the new customers with a happy smile. 
“Next chance you get, go up and talk to him. Don’t overthink and it’ll go great, I promise,” Chaeryeong whispers to you, leaving you on your own as the mother calls her over to ask a question about the piercings. 
Glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you, you can’t help but let out a sigh of desperation— you really hope she’s right. 
⤬⤬⤬
You decide to make your move on a Friday night. 
It was one of your few days off, and according to Chaeryeong, the cute boy was working tonight. 
You had been quick to throw together a cute outfit as you made your way to the mall— to pay a visit to your friend and your crush. 
The store was just as you had expected— low lights, fandom merch, and a fuck ton of adult products. You were caught off guard by the sight of it all, the stark contrast of the store and your outfit leaving you to stick out uncomfortably— not that anyone seemed to care, thankfully. You were quick to find yourself browsing through the jewelry, uninterested in everything else as you found a couple of cute earrings and necklaces to buy. 
To your disappointment, you had yet to see the cute boy that you had been crushing on; your heart shattered at the thought of you missing your opportunity to talk to him. Yet, just as you were being checked out by another worker, your luck seemed to turn around. 
“Hey, you doing anything tomorrow night?” Your head snapped up in the middle of you taking out your card, surprised to find the cashier asking you this question so suddenly. Behind him, you can see the cute emo boy emerge from the employee room. 
“Uhm, why do you ask?” You try to prolong the conversation as you watch the cute boy make his way up to the counter, your heart beating faster at the thought of you finally getting to talk to him. 
“There’s this band playing at a nearby venue,” the cashier, Yeonjun, his name tag reads, hands you a flyer, your eyes scanning the words as you take in the information printed onto it, “you should definitely go. I’m in it, actually.”
“Yeonjun, you shouldn’t be promoting that while working.” The new voice has you looking up from your flyer quicker than you can process— and to your delight, the cute emo boy stands behind your cashier with a frown on his face. 
Yeonjun narrows his eyes, turning around to look at his coworker. Shaking his head, he clasps the boy on the shoulder as he shakes him around, the boy unfazed as he allows him to do so. 
“Shut up, I think she’d love to go,” sending you a smile, he winks, and you can only manage to smile shakily in return, “he’s a part of it too; the bassist.”
You hope your sudden interest isn’t obvious, but you can’t help the way you perk up at Yeonjun’s words, staring back down at the flyer in your hands with a newfound eagerness— hey, if the music was bad, the worst that could happen is you getting the ick and moving on. 
“I’ll try my best to go,” you say, trying to play it cool as you smile at them; you briefly glance at the cute boy’s name tag— Beomgyu, it reads— and stuff the flyer in your purse, enjoying the way they (mostly Yeonjun— okay, only Yeonjun) seem to beam at your words. 
“Cool, we’ll try to spot you in the crowd,” Yeonjun jokes, handing you your bag filled with jewelry as he not-so-subtly scans your outfit, “from the looks of it, it won’t be too hard.”
Man, was it just you or was it hot in this store? You don’t think you could handle all this attention at once, the sight of Beomgyu giving you a once over making you weak in the knees as you feebly thanked them, promptly scurrying out of the store as you tried to ignore the way you didn’t talk to him— baby steps, you reassure yourself. 
You’re practically stumbling into Claire’s as if it were a safe space; and if Chaeryeong was there, then it was. You briefly scan the store before you spot her red hair, running up to her excitedly as you shove the crumpled banner in her face. 
“Seriously?” Is all she can muster to say, staring at the flyer blankly before she looks back at you, quirking a brow as if to challenge your decisions, “I told you to go fuck him, not support his fleeting dreams.” 
“I know…” you pout, deflating at her disapproving look, “but I don’t think it would be that easy! He seems like a cold guy, like you have to get to know him before he lowers his guard…” 
“Are you listening to yourself?” She says, checking herself in the mirror as she begins to restock the phone cases, “I worry about you sometimes.” 
“Come on, hear me out!” You whine, ignoring the dirty looks the moms in the store give you, clearly displeased with your revealing outfit, (cons to living in such a conservative town, you suppose) “you can’t deny that he’s cute.” 
“Yeah, but the most I’d do is hookup like, once,” she says, glancing around the store to make sure no customers were around to hear her, “you’re trying to play the long game.” 
“Am not!” You say, ignoring the way your body flushes hotly at the accusation— okay, you’re pretty down bad for him; so what?
“But uhm, Chae…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence, trailing off softly as you find yourself too nervous to ask. But with one glance back at you, she knows exactly what you’re trying to say— she sighs. 
“You want me to go with you, don't you?” 
Sending her your most convincing smile, you bat your lashes in hopes to convince her, clinging onto her as you let out a small “pleeeease?” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at your behavior before she scoffs, finally giving in as she goes back to restocking items. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
⤬⤬⤬
To say that you’re surprised by the attendance would be an understatement. 
The place is packed— it was hard enough to get tickets to the venue, and your efforts to buy tickets early were not in vain, despite Chaeryeong's teasing. You’re pulling her along eagerly, fingers laced tightly with hers as you squeeze your way towards the front of the stage; you’re able to sneak through a good amount of people, but aren’t able to get that close to the stage, to your disappointment. There’s no place to sit, much to Chaeryeong’s annoyance, but you’d like to blame her onslaught of complaints on the heels that she chose to wear instead.
“What kind of band even are they,” Chaeryeong mutters, scanning the crowd as she takes in the way the two of you accidentally stand out— the mass of black clashing with your sparkling outfits, “did you even listen to their music beforehand?” 
“To like, one song, yeah,” you say, unashamed as you ignore the look a person casts at you, clearly listening in to your conversations, “I dunno, I think they’re just a rock band. I think you’ll like them.”
“Probably not, this isn’t really my taste,” she says, throwing a dirty look to the person that pushes roughly past her to try to get closer to the stage, “you’re just lucky I love you.” 
But before you can ridicule Chaeryeong for her statement, you finally see the lights dimming down, left in the dark as the announcer finally calls the band onto the stage— Tomorrow by Together. 
The crowd goes wild by the announcement, jumping excitedly and jostling you and your friend around as they all try to record the members and get a good angle. You had no idea they were this popular— hell, if you were them, you’d quit everything to pursue music by now. The crowd is chanting their names eagerly, and you’re left in awe as they all take their positions behind each instrument. 
There are two guitarists— you’re able to recognize Yeonjun as one of them. You looked up the rest of the members on your way here, and by process of elimination, the other man who was currently picking up his guitar would be Hueningkai. 
The cute guy with dimples sends a heart to the crowd before going to where his keyboard is placed; that’s Soobin, if you remember right. Leaving you with Taehyun, who doesn’t bother to wave to the crowd as he picks up his drumsticks eagerly, shifting comfortably on the seat as he waits patiently for the show to start. 
And lastly, Beomgyu enters the stage and beelines to the bass— you’re surprised to find that he’s dyed his hair, the highlights getting hit by the stage lights brilliantly as he adjusts his earpiece, waiting patiently for the leader— Soobin, you think it is— to start the performance. 
You can barely hear what they’re saying over the excited cheers around you, and you can feel Chaeryeong gripping onto your arm in fear that you’ll be lost in the crowd. Glancing behind her, you send her an excited smile, unable to contain your laugh as you take in her nervous expression. 
“You’re insane!” 
“What?” You yell back, leaning in as the crowd begins to cheer louder— probably in response to something they said. You glance back at the stage in curiosity, but turn back to check on your friend as she leans back into your ear, repeating the words as she rolls her eyes at your amused reaction. 
“Do you want to leave then?” 
“And leave you here alone? No way—!” Her words are cut off by the clicks of drumsticks, and the crowd is quick to push each other around as the music begins to fill the venue, successfully taking your attention off your friend as your head snaps back to the stage. 
You can still feel the grip of Chaeryeong’s acrylics as you keep your fingers laced tightly with hers, but you quickly find yourself moving with the crowd as you watch the five on stage perform— and to your surprise, you find yourself enjoying the music a lot more than you anticipated. 
It’s just as you expected— rock, emo, or punk-rock if you remember right. But you can’t take your eyes off the way they all seem to be so immersed in the music, moving around just as much as the crowd before them. You’re surprised to find that each one of the members has a mic, and as you watch Beomgyu, you find yourself eager to hear his voice. 
He’s mesmerizing, a thin sheen of sweat coating him as his bangs stick to his forehead, a hand coming up to quickly adjust his earpiece before he’s back on the bass, fingers moving so swiftly you think you might just be hypnotized. You can feel your heart beating faster as you watch him step closer to his mic, eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly as he waits for his part; they stop for a moment, and you swear that he spots you in the crowd. 
His brows furrow as he begins to sing, and you swear that you might just feel weak in the knees. His voice is deep and raspy as he sings his part, and you can see Chaeryeong laughing at your reaction in the corner of your eye— man, this venue suddenly seemed a lot more stuffy than it was three seconds ago. 
And despite Chaeryeong’s conditions that you wouldn’t stay for the whole show, you do just that— your feet ache, and your makeup has been sweated off, but you don’t regret a single thing as you stumble out of the venue, your hearing muffled and your throat sore from cheering. 
“That wasn’t so bad,” you smile, glancing at your friend as you take in her distraught state— her hair was frizzy, and her makeup was also sweated off, but unlike you, she didn’t seem too pleased about it.
“For you maybe,” she grumbles, clutching onto you as she grumbles about how sore her feet are under her breath, “At least you had your eye candy to look at.” 
“Yeah, well thanks for coming with me Chae,” you say, hugging her tightly despite her protests, “I’ll get that girl from Auntie Anne's number for you as repayment.”
“No, let me do that myself,” she says, pushing herself off you as she tries to hide her fond smile, “but what I really want right now is a drink. And to rest.” 
“Back to my place?” You say, already knowing her answer as you finally find your car, flopping on the seats with rough sighs as you finally allow your feet to rest. 
“Yes please.” 
Chaeryeong allows you to ramble about your thoughts on the band all the way home. 
⤬⤬⤬
The next time you see Beomgyu is on your break. 
It’s a Tuesday afternoon and the mall is practically empty— considering that school has already started and all the kids are locked up in school. You’re sitting at the corner table of Auntie Anne’s, chewing mindlessly on your pretzel nuggets as you text Chaeryeong and tease her for chickening out on talking to her crush— in the end, she was no better than you. She isn’t working today, which is probably why time is passing so slowly— even your break seems to stretch by slowly. 
It isn’t until you hear the sound of a chair scraping along the tiles that you look up from your phone. 
Oh god, you’re already getting nervous— because Beomgyu’s a table away from you, staring down at his phone as well with his headphones on. You’re trying hard not to stare, so you resort to panicking and text Chaeryeong about your situation, to which she can only threaten you to talk to him.
Chae <3
Swear to god if you don’t talk to him ill do it for u
And it wont be pretty 
What if he doesn’t wanna talk? You text her, anxiously biting at your lip as you watch the message bubble up, her typing as slow as ever as you glance back up at Beomgyu, then back at the clock, calculating just how long you have before you need to leave.
Chae <3
Talk to him about his band duh
Everyone loves talking about themselves
Now shoo
You brightened up at that— of course! Who wouldn’t want to hear about themselves? And with this conversation started, you picked up your cup of pretzels, taking a deep breath before you found the courage to walk up to him. 
“Do you mind if I sit here?” You mentally facepalm at how stupid you sound, but you’ll let it slide as Beomgyu looks up at you, taking a second to pause his music before he gives you a blank look, eyebrows raising slightly as he finally seems tor recognizes you.
“Sure, I guess,” is all he says, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed at his response; or rather, his lack of interest. He gives you a curious look, and you know that he’s waiting for you to explain why the hell you decided to interrupt him during his break— you’re nervous, fidgeting in your seat as you smile sweetly at him. (God, he was intimidating up close.)
“I went to your uh, concert last weekend,” you hold back a smile as you watch the way he perks up at that, a lot more interested in what you have to say as he leans forward.
“Really? Didn’t think you’d be into that type of stuff,” he says, scanning your outfit teasingly, looking at your hot pink hello kitty zip up, to the cute jeans that had hearts on the back pockets; but mostly, your face said it all— that you weren’t one to listen to that kind of music at all. 
“Well you’d be surprised,” you say, pouting slightly at his words. You’re fidgeting with your necklace, and you pretend to remain oblivious to the way Beomgyu watches your every movement, eyes stuck to the way the cute pendant falls perfectly on your chest when you let it go, “you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or whatever they say.” 
Beomgyu lets out a laugh at that, and you can’t hide the way that it catches you off guard. It seems genuine, and his eyes are crinkling cutely as he smiles, shaking his head in amusement at your words. It’s almost contagious, and you can’t help the way you crack a small smile as well. 
“You got me there,”  he says, glancing back at the clock, prompting you to do so as well— you shudder, seeing that you have five minutes left. “Well what’d you think?” 
Narrowing your eyes, you take a second before you respond; you can tell he’s waiting for you to gush over him. 
“It was okay, I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you pop one of your pretzels in your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick away the sugar left on your lips, and your stomach swirls in excitement as Beomgyu follows your movements, “Yeonjun’s voice was really nice.”  
“Really?” Beomgyu taunts you, a knowing smirk growing on his face as he realizes what you’re doing. 
“Anything else?”
“Hmmm… oh! The other guitarist was super cute,” you shamelessly say, popping another pretzel in your mouth as you hum in appreciation of its taste, “come to think of it, so was the drummer— oh, so was the guy on the keys.” 
“Interesting,” He says mockingly, leaning in as he tilts his head questioningly, tongue prodding at his lip rings as he asks, “what’d you think of the bassist?” 
“Hmm? The bassist?” You question, huffing in disappointment as you realized you’ve finished all your pretzels. Rubbing your fingertips to rid the sugary dust, you can’t help yourself as you pop a finger into your mouth, licking off the residue as you finally stand, surprised to find that you need to clock back on. Beomgyu watches you, unable to take his eyes off the way your tongue swirls across your thumb, your necklace hanging teasingly as you reach to zip your jacket back up. Eyes snapping back to yours, you send him a small smile, expression earnest as you say, 
“Oh, I wouldn't know— I’m not into that type of stuff.” 
⤬⤬⤬
You’re eager to tell Chaeryeong about your interaction the first chance you get. 
“Ouuu you’re such a tease! You’ve definitely got him interested now,” she squeals, taking your hands in hers as she jumps in excitement. You’re about to go on your break, heart beating with excitement at the thought of getting to see Beomgyu again— your shifts are usually aligned, so who’s to say your breaks couldn’t be as well?
“You think I might see him today?” You voice your thoughts out loud, glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you— it’s dim, and you can barely make out anything in there, but you swore you saw the familiar head of long shaggy hair pass by the entrance.
“You just might,” your friend says, grinning at you as she encourages you to take your break— you linger at the entrance in hopes that you might spot Beomgyu taking his break as well. Making your way back to Auntie Anne’s (it was the only place where you could get your food quick enough) you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to look like a lost puppy patiently waiting for its owner. 
By the time you had ten minutes left to your break, you had lost hope, your eyes glued to your phone and music blasting in your ears as you texted your friends. Laughing at one of their responses to your crush, you rolled your eyes, reaching to grab another pretzel nugget— only to grab at the air stupidly. 
You frown as you look up from your phone, only to be met with the sight of Beomgyu sitting comfortably across from you, your cup of pretzels in his hands— how long had he been sitting there?
“How long have you been there?” You’re quick to echo your own mind, reaching out to take back your pretzels from the boy. He shrugs, glancing at the clock, only to leave you without a proper answer. 
“Not that long,” is all he gives you, enjoying the way you genuinely want to know. You’re silent, and you watch as he becomes slightly nervous, eyes avoiding yours as he reaches for his pocket— he wants to tell you something. 
“I actually wanted to uhm— give you these,” slowly, he slides something across the table, and it takes you a second to realize what it is, “They’re tickets to our next show. You really seemed to enjoy the other one, so I wanted to invite you to this one— with better seats, too.”
Your mouth is hanging at the two VIP tickets, unable to say anything before his words click in your mind. 
“Wait— you saw me? At the last show?” You watch as he flushes at your words, but honestly, you’re the one that should be embarrassed— you were kinda hoping he hadn’t noticed your excited self back at his concert. 
“Well, it was hard to not notice you,” his excuse is pointless as he looks back up at you, at the cute flustered expression you sport—it somehow manages to bring about a small wave of confidence as he adds, “it was cute to see you enjoy yourself.” 
“Oh,” you know you sound lame, but you can’t help it— not with the way his narrowed eyes stare teasingly at you, head cocked to the side as he waits for you to say something— but you don’t, staring down at your pretzels shyly as you listen to him chuckle; oh, where did your confidence from last time go?
“Wait, I have to ask,” you say, the question you thought of a few days ago popping back into your mind, “how come you work here if your band is so popular? You seem to be doing well.”
“Ah, that,” Beomgyu seems to become shy at your question, rubbing at his nape nervously as his eyes flit down onto the table, “well, we aren’t signed under a label yet… so it’s not really a stable income; this job is more of a side hustle just in case.” 
“Ah, I see,” you say, wondering just how much he makes from playing in venues— considering that he has to be working here, (which you aren’t complaining about, honestly) it must not be enough. 
“Well, I can’t wait for this next show,” you beam at him, taking the two tickets as you glance at the time, sad to see that your thirty minutes are up. “Come pay me a visit sometime, I work right across from you, you know.” 
You’re sure it’s unlikely, but as you walk back to your workplace, the stand of cute Squishmallows greeting you as you go to clock back in, you’re unable to contain your bright grin of excitement as you flash Chaeryeong the two VIP tickets. (much to her dismay.)
⤬⤬⤬
Beomgyu is making his way to your store. 
“The emo boy is coming over,” Chaeryeong tells you, not giving you much of a warning before she dips to the back— to give you a moment, she tells you shamelessly— leaving you alone and vulnerable to the sight of the cute boy appearing out of nowhere. 
It had been almost a week since you had asked him to visit you— ever since then, the two of you would try to time your breaks together, spending the time talking about music and growing closer; you even got to exchange numbers. 
But you hadn’t been expecting him to take your last comment seriously, especially not before the day you would be seeing him perform. But here he is, walking up to your store with other shopping bags in his hands, dressed in his usual dark attire. His eyes met yours, and you swore you saw a small amused twitch in his lips. 
“Didn’t think you’d actually step a foot in here,” you say, holding back a smile at the way he clashes against the cute store— is this what you looked like in his environment? The thought was enough to give away your amusement, despite the cold front you tried to display.
“Never judge a book by its cover,” he says, echoing your words as he watches you grin shamelessly, his eyes latching onto a piece of jewelry that caught his eye. “Nice smiley, did you get it done here?”
Scoffing, you can’t stop the laugh that escapes at his ridiculous words. 
“As if, I wouldn’t trust this place to do a regular ear-piercing,” you say, looking back at your piercing station in dismay. 
Beomgyu says nothing, even when you throw him a questioned look. 
“How much for the piercings?” 
“What— You can’t be serious,” you say, gawking at him in disbelief as you look at his ears, “you have multiple piercings! You should know better than to get it done here!” 
Beomgyu shrugs, looking at himself in the mirror as he looks at the said piercings— brushing his hair back, he reaches up to rub at the only empty spot on his lobes.
“Yeah, but I don’t have my upper lobes done yet.” 
“Beomgyu,” you whine, unaware of the way his name rolls off your tongue so nicely. He shivers, eyes darkening as he looks back up at you, much more determined to do it now that you’re acting like this. “I don’t want your ears to get fucked up on my behalf—your fans would hate me…” 
“Well, the customer is always right,” he grins, knowing just how much the two of you hated that phrase, “and the customer wants this pretty worker to do his upper lobes— with these hello kitty earrings as well.” 
Oh, he’s good, you hate how easily you’re going to give in to him; you don’t think you can put up much of a fight anymore, at least not with the way he’s looking at you and complimenting you. 
“Go sit in the chair,” you sigh, seemingly defeated as you follow him to the piercing station. In the corner of your eye, you watch Chaeryeong slowly peek through the door, only to see the scene before her and quickly hide back inside. 
“Just know that I’m not the one that usually does piercings,” you add, snickering at the way Beomgyu frowns at your confession. “Yeah, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.”
“It’s okay, I’ll be happy to give you more experience,” he says, and you’re thankful that you’re able to hide behind him because holy fuck, you’re probably a mess right now. Hesitantly, you reach out to his hair— it’s in the way, you think to yourself, unsure if he’ll be bothered if you touch it.
“You can move my hair if you need to,” he says, as though he were able to read your every thought. You jump at his sudden comment, clearing your throat as you nod, before realizing that you’re standing behind him, and that he probably can’t see you right now. So you simply mutter an “okay”, hoping that he can’t see how shaky your hands are as you reach out to move his hair. 
Softly, you reach out to his shoulder, brushing back his hair as you inspect his pierced ears— you ignore the way your fingertips accidentally brush against his skin, and you especially try to ignore the way he shudders at your actions. You take your time to mark where you’ll put each piercing, and after double-checking with Beomgyu, you finally get ready to pierce his ears. 
Reluctantly, you put on gloves, slowly going through all the sanitation steps as you walk Beomgyu through it and tell him how to care for his piercing— you’re sure he doesn’t need to hear this, honestly— yet it’s still your job to say it.
“Take a deep breath in,” it’s accidental, but you’re using your customer service on him, and you’re sure he notices; that is, if the small quirk of his lips is any giveaway. Slowly, you adjust the piercing gun, taking a deep breath in yourself in hopes that you won’t fuck up; it’s irrational, but you can’t help but be afraid. But you pull through, and as your fingers squeeze together, you watch the needle go through his ear. 
“There’s one,” you say reassuringly, pulling away to check your work. All he manages is a small wince, which is a nice contrast to the usual wailing and annoyed moms that you get on the daily. Turning to the other side, you find yourself no longer nervous, pulling back his hair without a second thought as you start sanitizing the new side as well. You barely hesitate before you’re passing the needle through his ear, smiling at the way he only flinches at the feeling. 
“Good job!” You say automatically, unable to stop yourself as the customer service mode had taken over you completely. But it doesn’t seem to phase Beomgyu, because he doesn’t comment on it even as you take him to the register to pay.
“I look pretty, don’t I?” He asks, tilting his head in the mirror to look at his new hello kitty piercings. It’s a stark difference to the rest of his jewelry, but you can’t help but agree wholeheartedly with him.
“They’re super cute, I’m kinda jealous,” you say, much to Beomgyu’s surprise. 
“Well, maybe your friend could pierce them,” he says, glancing behind you, and at the employee area, “if she finally decides to come out.”
Beomgyu is very annoying— it’s a realization that dawns on you as he sports a smug look, clearly pleased with the way he manages to fluster you with just a few words. But even as he bids you goodbye, reminding you to come to his show tomorrow, you can’t deny the way your heart saddens to watch him go so soon. 
Oh, you’re down bad. 
⤬⤬⤬
The new venue is much nicer than the last one— it catches you off guard by how nice it is. (It really makes you wonder how much money they each contribute to afford such places)
Chaeryeong is trailing behind you reluctantly, her cute heels from last time swapped out for much more comfortable sneakers. Though she complained to you about going to such a rough event again, you could tell that she was much more pleased when the sight of assigned seats greeted her— not that it wasn’t stated on the ticket, you had muttered to her sarcastically.
You could tell that you were getting strange looks from others— after all, you decided not to conform to their style. It wasn’t really you, so why do it? So instead of trying something new, you decided to stick to your cute pink outfits, dressed in a denim skirt that honestly, wasn’t covering much, the same hello kitty jacket you wore when you first talked to Beomgyu being sported once more as you layer it over a thin tank top, your cute Demonia camel-311’s adding an extra bit of height as you make it all the way down to the VIP section— front and center. 
You’re practically buzzing in your seat from excitement as you wait for the concert to begin, eagerly chatting with Chaeryeong who could only do so much to calm you down. After what seems like an eternity of waiting, the audience lights finally dim, and you’re left in anticipation for the band to come out. 
It still feels like you’re listening to them for the first time again as you watch them perform, your new closeness to the stage allowing them all to spot you easily— they all end up sending Beomgyu knowing looks at some point, unbeknownst to you. 
And as you finally make eye contact with Beomgyu, you grin at him excitedly, waving at him as he nods in recognition, a smile breaking across his face as he sees you. And though you finally look away from him, much more distracted by Soobin as he begins to sing, he can’t help but watch you, mesmerized as you seem to be enjoying yourself wholly. (Though he couldn’t say the same for your friend, who mostly seemed to be there for emotional support as she helped steady you.) 
You just seemed so happy. And it made Beomgyu’s heart jump excitedly at the thought of it being because of his band. You were even singing along, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but watch you fondly, shamelessly staring at you even when it was his turn to sing and your gaze turned back to him. He met your eyes eagerly, and you almost felt as though the rest of the crowd disappeared as he sang, raspy voice soothing to your ears as you tried to push away the incessant fluttering of your heart. 
You stared at him even when it was no longer his part, watching in awe as he played the bass like it was second nature. Meeting his eyes once more, you couldn’t help the way your eyes flit to his ears, the flash of the jewelry bringing your attention to the cute hello kitty studs he wore; you pointed at your ears eagerly, and he seems to realize what you’re referring to as he sweeps his hair back, allowing you to take in the piercings properly; they’re healing surprisingly well.
The concert seems to pass by much quicker than you’d like— and you’re left with nothing but the muffled feeling in your ears and the dwindling adrenaline as you reluctantly make your way back to the entrance. You almost make it out, but you’re stopped last minute as a security guard approaches the two of you, asking you for to confirm your identities to him. 
“Beomgyu would like to see you,” he says, pointing at you as he reads your ID. You’re surprised, blinking owlishly as you take in his words, unsure if he’s messing with you as you say, 
“… Me?”
“Yes, if you could please follow me,” the security guard waits for you to come after him, but he seems to notice the way you hesitate and turn back to your friend with uncertainty. “She can wait in the VIP lobby if she’d like, but I was told to bring you specifically backstage.” 
It seems like something clicks for Chaeryeong as she lets out a small “ahhh,” in understanding, pushing you towards the security guard as you turn to her with wide eyes, surprised at her actions. 
“Go ahead! The VIP lounge has drinks,” she encourages you, rolling her eyes with every protest and “are you sure?” that leaves your mouth. “Yes I’m sure! Now go!” 
Reluctantly, you leave your friend behind in the VIP lounge, watching her get comfortable at the bar as she asks the bartender for a drink. The backstage area is a lot quieter than you’d thought it would be— it’s practically silent the moment you enter the area, the boys all probably tired and ready to go home after such a performance. But you’re in awe nonetheless, looking from door to door as the security guard finally guides you to the last one— Beomgyu’s dressing room, it seems. 
Knocking on it tentatively, you anxiously wait for Beomgyu to open up as the guard stands behind you; you really hope he wasn't messing with you.
“Hmm? Who is it?” You can hear the grogginess in Beomgyu’s voice as the door barely opens, his head slowly peeking out before it's met with the sight of your sheepish smile. 
“Ah, you can come in,” he gestures to you, suddenly much more awake as he glances back to the security guard, “you’re good to go, thank you.”
You’re restless as the door is shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the small dressing room as you patiently wait for Beomgyu to tell you why he brought you here. 
“___,” you look at him, surprised to find your name slipping from his lips so easily. He’s smiling, suddenly much more energized as he tells you, “we just signed with a record label. We’re set.”
You’re elated, his joy contagious as you take a second to process his words— he laughs, and you can’t help but share his laugh as you run to him, enveloping him into a tight hug that he gladly accepts, the smoky scent of his cologne lingering despite his change of clothes. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but it just feels right as you mutter a “congratulations” into the fabric of his shirt, nuzzling into his neck with a smile stuck on your face.
Pulling away from him, you’re reluctant to leave this small space that the two of you created; you can tell he feels the same, hands lingering at your forearms as he keeps you close, eyes fond as he watches the way your eyes sparkle under the lights of the room. 
“Does this mean you’re quitting your job at the mall?” You joke, cracking a smile that Beomgyu sees past— you don’t think you’re ready to watch him leave just yet. 
“Yes,” he says, honest words leaving him as he tugs you in closer, unable to look away from your glossy lips as he finds himself leaning in closer, his voice much quieter as he says, “but I’ll still visit now and then.” 
It’s not the perfectly romantic and corny line you were expecting, but it’s enough to prompt you to crash your lips with his, the weeks of tension and feelings that had built up between the two of you finally crashing down as you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of him. He’s quick to kiss you back, the feeling rough and new as his snake bite piercings press against your flesh, a small sigh escaping you as you feel him nip at your lips. 
His arms have encased your waist and pulled you in tight, your body pressed flush against his and your hands splayed across his chest as he practically forces you to lean against him, his fingertips itching to explore your body further.
“Fuck, I couldn’t stand seeing you out there in your cute little skirt,” he groans, slotting a thigh between yours as he runs his fingers along the hem of your skirt, “made me scared someone else would try to make a move on you.”
“No, wore this just for you,” you confess, breathless and whiny as you grind on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to hide just how aroused you were. He laughs at that, the sound airy and mocking as he guides your hips on his thigh, pushing you down on it more as he takes in the sounds that tumble messily from your lips. 
Placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you yelp at the way he angles your hips, clenching his thigh and bouncing it under you as your sensitive clit rubs and bumps against him messily. You’re practically delirious as you reach a hand down to move your panties aside, the stimulation not enough for you as you finally allow your bare cunt to come in contact with him.
“I can’t believe this,” he groans, watching the way a wet spot slowly begins to form over the place you continue to grind against, “my stupid girl, all fucked up over my thigh? Poor baby won’t be able to take my cock, then.” 
“No, I can take it,” you protest, your mind reeling from the pleasure that Beomgyu gives you— you can feel your stomach tightening with every clench of his thigh, the muscle pressing against you nicely, “Please, I can take it, please…” 
“You really think you can?” He asks, leaning to trail kisses down the column of your neck, “why don’t you come on my thigh, then we’ll see if you really can.” 
You’re nodding desperately for his approval, shirt clenched tightly in your fists as you work yourself up to your high, the feeling of his muscles pressing against you bringing you closer much quicker. With a particularly harsh bounce of his thigh, your mouth falls open, Beomgyu’s grip on your hips ruthless as he forces you down on him, guiding you through it as slowly come down from the blissful feeling. 
“Good girl, following my orders like that,” he mumbles, enjoying the way your shaking hands grip onto him helplessly. Gently, he guides you to the couch, allowing you to fall on it as he slowly begins to undress you, your grabby hands pulling at his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head. 
“Oh god—" he holds back a groan as he takes off your bra, suddenly finding it much harder to contain himself at the cute sight, his hands immediately finding their place on your breasts as he gulps. 
“Baby, I had no idea you pierced these,” he says, pretty fingers playing with the piercings on your nipples as you whine at the stimulation. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? They’re so pretty…” 
Beomgyu is mesmerized as you lay before him, a needy and panting mess as you let him play with your tits crudely, allowing him to pinch and roll the pierced nipples until they’re hardened. Slowly, he leans down to wrap his mouth around one of them, tongue darting out to lick at them as you gasp, back arching as you realize—
“Fuck, is your tongue pierced?” You gasp, watching the way Beomgyu sits up with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“Looks like we’re all full of surprises here,” he says, trailing kisses down your body before he finally stops at your navel, glancing back up as he says, “I’ve always heard it feels better when you get eaten out by someone with a piercing— wanna test it out?”
You’re ready to say every curse word in existence as Beomgyu dives down without a second thought, warm mouth wrapping around you and the feeling of his tongue— paired by his piercing— sends you into an overstimulated mess, still having yet to recover as you thread your hands into his hair, weakly attempting to pull him away from you before he’s pinning your hips down, his tongue insistent as he flicks it across your clit ruthlessly. 
“Beomgyu…” you whine out, body too sensitive to stay still, yet still begging for more as you thread your fingers tighter into his scalp, tugging harshly— the sting brings out a crude groan from him.
Slowly, you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, an airy chuckle leaving him as he takes in the way you’re dripping wet for him. Pulling away, he watches as two of his fingers slide in easily, opening up inside you as he slowly begins to stretch them out inside you, biting at his lip at the way you clench around him. 
Leaning back down, he lays his tongue flat on your clit, enjoying the way you shake under him as he sets a brutally slow pace for you. 
“Enjoying yourself?” He taunts, unable to stop himself as his free hand reaches up to play with your nipples, still amazed at the cute piercings that had been hiding from him all along. You’re nodding along, though he’s not entirely sure you processed what he just asked from the way you’re so lost in the pleasure— which Beomgyu is more than happy to deliver more of. His tongue flicking across your clit paired with the quickened pace of his fingers is what sets you off, the stimulation too much for you the moment Beomgyu begins to tug at your nipple piercings teasingly. 
“Beomgyu please,” you plead, using your fingers that were threaded in his hair to pull him up, your lips briefly meeting his as you take in the taste of yourself— his tongue darts into your mouth as you allow him to coat your tongue with your own release, the teasing bites that he leaves you with as he pulls away making you whine stupidly. 
“So fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, staring down at your fucked out form as he finally releases himself from his restraints, his cock painfully hard and leaking as he kneels over you, “Wanna make you all mine. Keep you to myself.”
His words are an alluring promise as he slowly pushes into you, leaving kisses and bites all along your collarbones as you do the same to him. You sigh as he bottoms out, hips meeting yours as he takes your hand to place it on your abdomen.
“Do you feel that?” He asks, pressing his hand on top of yours as he slowly pulls out, a broken moan leaving you as you realize that fuck, you can. With every slow thrust you can feel every vein, his hand that remains on top of yours adding onto the pleasure as you feel him through your stomach as well.
“God, you make it so hard for me to hold myself back,” he groans, closing his eyes as you clench tightly around him, the warm feeling of your walls wrapping around him pushes him to his limits, the sounds that leave your lips only adding on to the mess.
“Don’t,” you breathe out, eyes dazed as they meet Beomgyu’s, “Don’t hold back— please.”
With one final look in your eyes, Beomgyu shakes his head, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before he’s taking your leg, bringing it up to press against your chest as it allows him to fuck you in a deeper angle. His pace is ruthless as he gives in to your request, the combination of his length and the stretch of his cock leaving your mind empty in a matter of seconds. 
“Fuck, be quiet baby,” he grits out, slapping a hand over your mouth in panic as you let out a particularly loud moan, the reminder of his other bandmates being nearby bringing about a rush of adrenaline— he didn’t want anyone else to hear the sounds you made. 
Your muffled whimpers and whines still managed to leak through Beomgyu’s hand, your body getting pressed down into the couch with the force that Beomgyu fucks you with. Your hands scrambled to find someplace to steady yourself on, quickly finding purchase on Beomgyu’s shoulders, your nails raking down his back accidentally as his cock pressed against a sensitive spot— you were only egged on by the surprised moan he let out by that. 
“God, you feel so…” he hisses as your nails dig into his skin, the stinging feeling making him pry your hands away from him as he pins them down, your fingers lacing with his immediately as he uses this to fuck into you harder. His lips crash against yours the moment you begin to get too loud again, and you accept the distraction gratefully as you relish in the feeling of his piercings against your skin. 
This new angle allowed for his hips to crash against your clit, the rough hits making you closer to your end as you clenched tightly around him, the feeling enough of a warning for Beomgyu as he continued to fuck you ruthlessly. Your nails dig into his hands as he begins to hit your sensitive spot repeatedly, your high crashing down on you unexpectedly as you clamp down on Beomgyu’s cock. 
He helps you ride through it, slowing his pace into nothing but a grind as he presses his hips against yours, placing relentless kisses on your lips as soft praise leaves him, the words not quite reaching you as you come down from your high. 
“Gyu,” you whimper, and Beomgyu thinks he might just come then and there, “keep going.” 
“More?” He asks, incredulous at your request, “fuck, you still want more?”
Nodding, you squeeze his hands as you innocently say, “want you to finish inside me.” 
God, you have no idea what you do to him. Your words hit him like a freight train as he feels his cock twitch inside you, shaking his head in disbelief at your request— how could you say something like that so sweetly? It’s like you were doing it on purpose. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up until you can only think of me,” he says, his words drawing out a whimper from you as he begins to move once more, no longer hesitant as he watches the way your face contorts from the pleasure and over stimulation. Your words are all he can think of as he watches you try your best to be quiet, biting at your lips and failing as he presses his cock deep inside you, every drag and thrust he delivers making your eyes roll back in bliss. 
You might even be drooling at this point— but you don’t really care, at least not with the way Beomgyu is fucking you so nicely. You can feel his pace stutter as he lets out soft moans, hands untangling from yours as he sits up, placing his hands on your hips and angling them up as he uses you to his liking, the new angle making you slap your hands over your mouth— you’re sure something humiliating would have left your mouth if you hadn’t done so. 
His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips as his brows furrow, concentrated on chasing pleasure as his eyes flit back to you— to your watery eyes, your hands clasped over your mouth panic despite the sounds that leak through, and your breasts that bounce back and forth with each thrust. 
He can tell that a new orgasm is beginning to build in you, and he’s determined to make the coil snap as he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, leaning over to whisper nothing but the filthiest things imaginable, a grin overtaking his face as he feels the way you’re quick to catch up to him, your trembling figure telling him all he needs to know.
“Come on darling, don’t you want me to fill you up? You’d look so pretty with my cum dripping between your thighs, I’ll make sure everyone will know you’re mine. Go ahead, come on my cock.” He’s rambling at this point, but it’s enough to set you off as you cum on him once more, the pathetic whine of his name enough to set him off as he follows close behind you, his thrusts sloppy and rough before he stills, filling you to the brim as your hands find themselves running down his back once more, the sting of pain mixing into his pleasure as his head drops onto your neck, the heavy feeling of his breaths against your neck the only thing that grounds you from your high. 
He’s careful as he maneuvers the two of you to lay down, having yet to pull out of you as the slow trickle of his cum escaping from you makes you shiver. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he pulls you in for another slow kiss, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips, the two of you turning into a giddy mess in each other’s arms.
“I was waiting for the day I could kiss you like this,” he mumbles against your lips, the confession making you push against his chest in embarrassment, allowing him to pull you back in with a laugh. The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, and you actually think you could fall asleep like this—
“Oh my god, Chaeryeong!”
At the call of your friend’s name, Beomgyu groans, throwing an arm over his eyes as he asks, “she’s still here?”
“Yes!” You can tell that Beomgyu doesn’t understand why you’re panicking, but you feel absolutely terrible that you made her wait outside in the lobby while you— you…
“Gyu, I gotta go,” you whine, trying to pry yourself from his grip as you look around his dressing room, spotting a rag and a spray bottle filled with water that you could use to clean yourself up. “I have the day off tomorrow, just come over then.” 
“Can I? You promise?” Is all he says, unable to let you go as you try to rush to clean up. Turning back to him, you adjust your shirt, laughing at the way he seems to be eager for your response. 
“Promise,” you say, leaning down to give him a final goodbye kiss; it’s enticing when he tries to lure you in with more, but you know better as you collect your things, bidding him a final goodbye as you exit his room, allowing yourself to be escorted by security guards as you do the walk of shame. (Shame was actually not enough to describe what you felt— what you felt was much deeper, the realization that everyone probably heard you leaving you unable to look up from the floor.)
Yet even as you’re reuniting with Chaeryeong with a sheepish smile, you can’t help but feel the way your heart flutters at the feeling of your phone being flooded with messages.
Gyu:
Send me ur address pls
Would it be weird if I just come over rn
Say no so I can come over
You shook your head as you read through the messages, not noticing the way Chaeryeong peeked over teasingly.
“See, I told you— you were playing the long game.”
Yet this time, you couldn’t really deny her— because maybe you really were all along.  
⤬⤬⤬
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bcacstuff · 7 days
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As you can imagine after last night's post, my inbox is flooded with message. It was already flooded on Wednesday after the article on JJ appeared, I showed you in a video. After I recorded that video the messages kept on coming in and after last night a 100-150+ more.
You got it, even if I wanted to, I simply can't answer you all. Many are similar to what I wrote, to the comments on that post, diverse opinions, expressions and more of that.
I do not wish to go on and on and on about this subject. I showed you what I had to show and tried to do so in the most appropriate but honest way. I left a warning in the middle that from there things were not going to be pretty. I can not make them prettier than they are. I showed you the facts like they are out there, you can try to ignore them, or stick your head in the sand. You can try to explain it away to fit your narrative, but the facts are going to stay there. They wont go away. It simply is what it is.
I do want to address some messages I received though, mostly echoing very naive things clearly coming from another blog. I have issues with that, as it obviously tries to twist facts out there for everyone to see and some in a very nasty way dragging Cait into this.
Saying Cait's picture is also on x rated websites is a lame, poor, ridiculous excuse to try and make it look like this girl isn't an escort, or that her pictures are stolen and put on these sites. Sorry, not sorry... if you can not tell the difference between Cait's web presence and that of an escort girl, you're a lost case sticking your head deep in the sand and ignoring the facts. Cait has nothing - I repeat nothing whatsoever to do with this whole mess.
She's not a model, a model shows her work on her IG, has an agency in her profile, and shows what brands she promotes. none of that can be found on her IG. You need to be blindfolded not to see how her IG already reeks towards the profession she earns her shown designer stuff and travels with. And a simple look at the persons she follows, the comments on her posts, her interactions tells you the rest. I mean, just one; a name like dubaichampagnepapi with a shady agency and a private club in Dubai tells you enough. I can go on and on, but as said (and as said in my initial post) I don't want to blow things up unnecessary. I don't need to show you ten more escort sites where she is listed all with different pics. It doesn't add more to the proof. Nuf said
I do not have any need to convince you, please keep your head in the sand and stay on the blog of your liking. Don't bother to sent me all these blind excuses, or ignorant echoing a certain blogger. Learn to use your own brain.
That also goes for the ones trying to excuse Sam on all kind of possible ways. Sorry, he created this mess himself. He didn't meet that woman by chance in a bar and then walked out of the bar holding her hand. Sorry, that is just plain naive, you got to admit that to yourself. These women do not hang out in a bar in Soho London. They go to Mayfair, shisha lounges, smoking water pipes, like the one LM posted last night. Just take a look at those sort of bars, you wont find Sam in there, that much I know.
It's not a crime what he did, it's just not looking that good and he surely knows it, hence he turned of the tags on his IG for the ones he doesn't follow. He isn't the first and he wont be the last. It was just not a very smart move. No need to blow it up though. We wont see anymore of that woman of that I'm sure.
I'm not sure yet, I might find some Anon messages perhaps tonight or over the weekend that I would like to answer, address or post. But please let's keep it all within normal perks and don't get overboard with things.
Thank you!
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ghouljams · 8 days
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I would love to see you take a crack at a spy au with the boys and their darlings, I don’t know but your writing could do that sleek bond vibe justice, just a random little worm in my head but I’ll be honest spy content is always on my brain. Anywho you can disregard this but all the best!
I wrote this in an airport last July:
Blonde, Ghost thinks, and too pretty to reasonably be any of these men’s arm candy. He’s got his mark. You fit your dossier to a T. It’s almost comical how easy it is to pick you out and make his way over. All he has to do is secure you and deliver you in hand to Price tomorrow. Easy peasy, he’s never had trouble bringing women home, you won’t be any different.
You spot him before he can reach you, eyes dragging over him with a smile. God you’re gorgeous. Arms dealers, smugglers, the highest in power of the lowest of the low, you stand out like a diamond among shit. Ghost understands why James Bond always had a girl on his arm if you’re the type of gold these criminals run with. You hold out your hand as he approaches, eager to be introduced. 
“How’d a pretty little thing like you get caught up in all this dirty business,” He asks, taking your hand firmly in his. You tip your head, doe eyes staring up at him as you do your best to wrap your fingers around his hand. 
“Oh I wouldn’t say I’m caught up in anything,” You tell him, your voice soft and entreating, “I’m more of an… outside contractor.”
“Is that what they’re calling it?” Ghost raises a brow.
“It’s what I’m calling it,” You drop his hand, he almost misses the warmth, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Bourbon,” Ghost tells you, leaning against the bar next to you.
“A good ol’ boy,” You purr, and tap the bar to signal the tender. You’re so close he can feel your warmth, smell your perfume. You smell divine, even prettier up close when you bat your lashes at him, everything about you seems designed to entice and entrap.
“Not that good.”
“I’m sure you more than make up for it,” You pick up the glass the bartender slides across, holding the rim with your fingers as you offer it to him.
“Never had any complaints.” He lets you set the glass in his hand, enjoying the way your eyes never leave his, even when he tugs his balaclava up to drink.
“Awfully confident for a man with no face," You hum. Ghost's eyes flick over you, the hug of your dress over your body, the low dip of the neckline. Your practically spilling from it as you lean over the bar. Makes him want to get his hands on you, see if you're as soft as you look. He'd bet you are.
"You lookin' to try for yourself?" Ghost raises a brow. He's glad for the mask with the way you press yourself against his arm. Your tits squish comfortably against his bicep, the warmth of your body burning him through his jacket. Your hand settles on his thigh, and he wonders if you have some sort of fetish for men that are bad news.
"I'm wondering," Your head tips, your voice scraping his ear as he settles his glass on the bar, "why the biggest man in the room needs to hide his face when he's confident enough to approach me." Ghost feels the twitch of his smile, enjoys the pressure of your fingers against his thigh, even flexes it for you.
"You're a pretty bird," Ghost supplies, "and I'm a wanted man."
"So is every man in the room," You lower your voice to whisper, "but you're the only one who-"
"If you're that curious," Ghost finishes his drink, the burn of it steeling his nerves, "Why don't we go up to my room, and I'll take it off for ya."
-
Ghost wakes up to a cuff being snapped around his wrist. “Really sorry about this,” You tell him with a pitying look, “but I can’t have you getting yourself hurt.” He yanks at the cuff, hears it click against the bars of the headboard. You take a step back as he reaches for you with a growl. Oh, he’s not the one you should worry about being hurt. You twist an earring into your ear, watching him struggle to get his wrist free. Wait, weren’t you blonde? The dossier said blonde, he saw you last night, you were blonde.
The metallic ping of his pistol’s safety brings his focus back.
“That’s my gun,” He says, watching you check the magazine.
“Correction, was your gun.” You slip the mag back into place and holster the gun in your waistband. You rifle through his jacket and pull his passport free, flipping it open to check it. You give a low whistle, “How’d you manage to get by without a picture, I mean that is really-”
“When I get out of this,” He warns low. You give him a look.
“You know I should really be thanking you, last night was… wow,” You fan yourself with his passport, before tossing it onto the bed next to him, “but otherwise this has been very disappointing. I mean,” You hold up a flash drive, “the heel of your shoe?-” Ghost stills, “-Sort of embarrassing, really.”
Shit. He yanks at his cuff harder, free hand searching for anything to stop you with. The drive disappears from your hand and you scoop your dress from the night before off the floor. Wait, that’s his shirt, you’re wearing his shirt. You turn the dress inside out and tug the sleeves, shouldering the reversed garment turned bag. 
“It’s been a pleasure, Ghost, truly.” You tell him with a smile, “The maid should be in to release you shortly. Don’t wait up.”
Ghost watches you leave, effectively crossing off the only two targets he had to secure last night. Price is going to be so monumentally pissed.
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mvybanks · 5 months
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SPARKS FLY — jj maybank
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a/n: wrote this on a whim the other day for some reason so don’t judge me if it sucks💀 also i got inspired by one episode of grey’s anatomy that i was thinking about oops ++ technically the fic is not based on sparks fly by taylor but i was listening to my playlist while picking a title and i just realized how well it fit so enjoy!
warnings: hospitals, mention of injuries
word count: 1.1k
pairing: lovesick!jj x doctor!reader
nav
add yourself to my taglist <3
“Doctor, you’re needed for a neuro consult in the ER.” Your intern warned you as you were checking the labs of one of your patients. You nodded and began to speed walk towards the emergency room, the intern hot on your heels as you looked for the patient you had been called in for.
Entering, you found three men inside; two of them were standing beside the hospital bed as the third one was lying on it, already covered with some bandages that your colleagues had provided for.
“Hello. I’m doctor Y/l/n.” You announced, the words basically engrained in your brain for what seemed like forever, while you closed the curtain behind you.
The blond man, who apparently was the only injured one in the room, slowly turned his head away from you with a scared look upon his face. “Do you guys see the hot doctor too or am I dying?” He asked to the two men that were standing beside him, lowering his voice although it was still clear to your ears. They snickered and shook their heads at their friend’s behavior.
“I’m sorry about him,” started one of them, “He’s not usually like this.”
“Don’t lie to a doctor! He is usually like this.” Said the other, clearly amused.
You couldn’t help but chuckle as you took the chart that was hanging at the foot of the bed and began to look over it.
“So,” you cleared your throat, “Mr. Maybank, does your head hurt at all?” You asked while reaching for the penlight inside the pocket of your coat.
“Not really. I’m just confused, I guess.”
You used the device to shine the light inside his eyes as you calmly ordered, “Okay, follow the light, please.”
“You have pretty eyes,” he whispered, as if he could barely understand that he was saying all of that out loud.
Taken aback from his statement, “Alright, no more painkillers for you, Mr. Maybank,” you playfully said.
“How is he?” One of his -what you assumed-friends asked.
“Apart from the other injuries that Doctor Haberman has already taken care of, he looks fine. No concussion, but he needs some rest.” You smiled politely.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, has anyone ever told you that?” He admitted, this time sounding even more serious and you hoped that he couldn’t tell how flustered and speechless he had turned you.
“Leave the doctor alone, JJ.” The long-haired friend reprimanded him.
“So, he can leave now, right?”
“Yes, of course. Doctor Mangino here will bring you the discharge papers.” You said referring to your intern who immediately ran to do as you had asked. “Have some rest and you’ll be fine, Mr. Maybank.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
The rest of the day went by, completely uneventful, and yet the conversation with one patient was stuck in your mind. Your love life had become such a joke that you couldn’t shake off a few compliments from a patient on painkillers. Pathetic, that’s what it was. But after all, you wouldn’t, and couldn’t, have changed that for the world. Your work had to always come first and if the lousy dates you had been on couldn’t get that, there was nothing you could do to change their minds.
By the end of your shift, as you walked past the nurses at the reception, one of them called out for you. “Someone was looking for you in the waiting room. A certain JJ Maybank. He said he’s a patient of yours.”
“Yes, sure. I’ll go see him. Thank you!” You exclaimed as you all but ran to the waiting room, scared that something had happened. It was late and he was the only one in the room when you walked in. “Mr. Maybank. What happened?”
He got up from his seat, “Call me JJ, please.” He said nonchalantly as he slipped his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.
Confused, you got closer to him, “JJ, are you hurt? Do you have a headache?” You began while you reached for the penlight again, but he stopped you, gently placing a hand on your wrist.
“I’m okay.” He reassured you, smiling down at your worried expression.
In that moment, seeing him so up close, you realized how handsome he was, which caused a blush to creep up your cheeks.
“You’re in a hospital and you don’t need any help? Why are you here, then?” You asked, puzzled at his behavior. A riddle of a man.
“How else would I be able to ask you out?” He inquired as if it had been as obvious and clear as the blue sky on a sunny day.
Your eyes widened and something in your stomach fluttered. What the hell was that man doing to you?
Your lack of response, however, had worried him. “Alright, you can say no, it’s not like I can’t handle rejection, you know?”
You shook your head. “It’s not that. You caught me by surprise, that’s all.”
“Is that a yes, then?” He asked, hopeful.
“It’s not a yes.” You bent your head to the side as you played with him.
“Give a guy a break here.” JJ chuckled nervously as he tried to not show you how much he wished for a positive answer. You had completely taken over his mind and he couldn’t help but want to get to know you.
Grinning, you grabbed his hand and took a pen from the pocket of your coat before you began to write your number on his wrist. “This is all I can promise today.”
Smiling like a kid in a candy store, he could feel his heart almost jump out of his chest. “That’s all I was asking for, pretty girl.”
“It’s just my phone number. Don’t get too cocky now.” You chuckled as you began to take some steps back, slowly walking backwards.
“We’ll see.” He winked, a confident smile adorning his lips. You shook your head in disbelief, laughing at his antics.
Then, all in the blink of an eye, he reached for your arm, pulling you close once again, “And one more thing.” He exclaimed before taking you in his arms and unexpectedly pressing his lips against yours.
You gasped in surprise, and yet you still kissed him back, your heart racing in your chest as you couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had ever kissed you like that.
JJ swore he saw fireworks as soon as your mouths had touched, an electricity running all over his body the moment you relaxed against his body and gave in to the palpable tension between you.
However, it didn’t last long, just enough for both of you to become eager for more.
“Can I get cocky now?” He mumbled against your lips.
With your eyes still closed, your parted mouth and the feeling of your heart beating loudly all over your body, “A little bit, yeah.” You whispered.
“Goodnight, doctor.”
And with that, he left you there, still in shock as your fingertips brushed over your own lips for you could barely understand what had just happened. That man was trouble, you could feel it, your instincts were telling you to run and to save yourself from the incoming and inevitable heartache, and yet your lips were aching to be touched by his once again.
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taglist:
@jjmaybankisbae @notslay-norcleor @poppet05 @solargazes @cindersnightmare @fairlymax @chaostudee @goldenroutledge @harleyharlot @taintedxkisses @uhcallmemommy @babypoguelife @screan @voguesir @vigilanteshitposting @kliness @gemofthenight @magnificantmermaid @f4ll-for-you @marzipaanz @sweetestdesire @guililove @freyawhitexxx1 @mistalli @shady-the-simp @fangirl-madz @one-sweet-gubler @camelliaflow3r @emery-333 @hallecarey1 @lovelornanonymity @rafetopia @maybankslover r @jjgaybanklover @lyndys @futurecorps3 @bxrbie1 @maybanksbabe @moremaybank @jjsbank444 @vivian-555 @jjfordays @highpope @livsters @starkeylover @peachpitlover @instabull @fishingirl12 @outerbankszn @congratsloserr @loveu-always @rentaldarling @embersfae @bee6r @savagemickey03 @lunalovegood156 @idli-dosa @madelynie @riveramour + in the comments!
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