#of all of the new album songs to get stuck in my head… it’s this and abs.

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[todayisafridaynight]

on the one hand listening to music while drawing is an easy solution to wanting uninterrupted background noise While I Draw however the downside is every time a new song starts theres a 50/50 chance that ill remember how i wanted to make an animatic/comic for it and ill scream inside

[deus-ex-mona]

man. this song reminds me of physiology class

[candyunicornsateme]

Anyone ever just think of random fucking dialogue and jokes and random shit between characters?? The amount of goofy ass otp banters and shit I have drafted is embarrassing. What am I going to do with that?? Make them comics or fics??? Bitch. 

[lnfours]

* ✰. — birds of a feather | l.n

summary: i’ll love you til the day that i die.

warnings: the result of the new billie eilish album being on repeat and me having this song stuck in my head, so this was born. fluff, fluff and more fluff bc i said so. slowly getting my creative juices back, so bear with me.

masterlist | soundtrack

you hadn’t been looking for anything when you had met lando. a freshly graduated student who finally had time to find interest in their personal life, rather then spend their time consumed with textbooks in front of them, trying to navigate your way through the chaotic mess of life.

but the moment the curly haired brit bumped into you in the paddock, sending your notes and fresh cup of coffee all over you and the ground, you were doomed. falling head first into the comforting chaos that was lando norris.

and you thanked your stars every morning when you woke up that you had been running late that day, or else you would’ve never met the sleeping boy next to you. wouldn’t have ever gotten the chance to get to know the sought after driver with a big heart and who loves with his whole soul.

you smiled to yourself, sitting in the bed and taking in the way he slept peacefully, not aware how pretty he looked in the morning sun as it peaked in through your blinds. his cheek pressed against the pillow, his lips slightly parted as he slept.

you couldn’t help but reach out and brush the stray curl away from his face, smiling softly as he stirred in his sleep at your touch. your silent way to keep going, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. a soft hum came from him, followed by the gorgeous sight of his green eyes shining up at you. his eyes fully adjusting to the brightness as he squinted, his hand reaching out to yours.

“c’mere,”

his voice was hoarse and sleep coated, but it never failed to send shivers down your spine. you scooted closer, letting him pull you into his side. your face nuzzled in his bare shoulder, his head laying on top of yours.

“we need to be up soon,” you said, poking his ribs gently, “your family’s coming to see the new house and have dinner, remember?”

he didn’t, actually. and if it wasn’t for you, he’d be certain he’d miss all of his meetings, call times, and hell, even sometimes the start of his races. thankfully, you were never far from him on the pitlane. the perks of working with sky, who he should really thank. he’d make a mental note to do it next race. right now, he was going to enjoy the peaceful month he got to spend with you. uninterrupted peace, free time. where you got to whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted.

he groaned, nuzzling his face into your hair. you laughed softly, “lando,”

“i like when you say my name,” he mumbled, “say it again.”

you chuckled, and in your best flirty tone you could muster up in the moment, you did, “lando,”

he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, right where your neck and collarbone met. his favorite spot to kiss whenever he teased you because he knew you were ticklish.

and as if on queue, you giggled, shoving his head from your neck, “stop it,”

“just five more minutes,” he pleaded, “with my girl, in our bed, that’s all i ask.”

you sighed, “fine, but not one second longer.”

he smiled, knowing he could always get you to fold. you hated to admit it, but you’d always cave for him. do whatever he wanted. he had you wrapped around his finger and you had him wrapped around yours. smitten for each other, young in love, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it.

“how’d you sleep?” you asked, finger tips tracing the lines in your mind that you drew with your fingers every morning. connecting the moles on his skin, from his shoulders to his chest and down to his sides. your own little routine you had incorporated, a habit you picked up after the first night you spent together a year and a half ago.

“good until you woke me up.”

“you love when i wake you up.”

“you’re right,” he mumbled, “getting to see that pretty face every morning is the highlight of my day.”

you chuckled, leaning up on your elbow, reaching around and grabbing his cheek into your hand. he smiled softly as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his.

he pulled away, a smile on his lips as they brushed against yours, “and your morning kisses, i love waking up to your lips on mine, or on my-“

you shook your head, laughing and covering his face with your pillow before pulling yourself out from the covers, “alright, time to get up!”

“that wasn’t five minutes!” he gasped, tossing your pillow your way softly, teasingly. you laughed, walking into the connected bathroom, calling back to him.

“long enough! you killed the romantic mood,”

“i’m only speaking my truth, baby,” he said, footsteps joining you in the bathroom, watching him lean against the doorway out of the corner of your eye, “is a man not allowed to speak his truth?”

you popped the toothbrush in your mouth, sending him a glare. he laughed, pressing a kiss to your head before grabbing his own toothbrush from his side of the sink. he joined you in brushing your teeth, wrapping an arm around your waist. you smiled softly, trying to ignore how good he looked. sweatpants loosely hanging around his waist, bare chest on full display, curls wild and in serious need of taming.

you two looked good together, and even though he wasn’t necessarily considered ‘tall’ he still stood a few inches above you. his green eyes met yours in the mirror, and he knew you were subtly checking him out. he sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finished brushing your teeth.

he finished shortly after you, watching you as you rummaged around in your drawer. you pulled out the skincare he had seen you put on every morning and night, and even has put on for you after nights where you’ve had one too many vodka redbulls.

he leaned against the counter, watching you in the mirror as you rubbed the product into your skin, “can i have some?”

you giggled, moving to stand between his legs. you squeezed a little bit of the moisturizer onto your fingers, rubbing into his face. he grinned softly at your gentle touch, “that smells good.”

you nodded, “and it has sunscreen in it, it’s good for you.”

he motioned towards your drawer, “do you have any lip balm?”

you hummed, putting the tube back before grabbing the lip balm. you went to hand it to him but he raised an eyebrow at you. you sighed with a laugh, shaking your head.

“gimme,” you said, grabbing his chin and swiping the lip balm against his pursed lips. you couldn’t help but giggle again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips when you were done, “there.”

he rubbed his lips together and hummed, “hmm, is that coconut?”

you nodded, “like it?”

he nodded, pulling you in closer by your waist, “love it.”

you grabbed his wrist, checking the time on his watch, “they’ll be here in an hour.”

“so what i’m hearing is-“

“no,” you shoved his shoulder with another laugh, “what im saying is that i need to run to the store and get flowers for the vase on the table.”

“who needs flowers,” he said, pressing a kiss to your chest, “when i could have you back in my bed, all to myself for a little while longer until i have to share you for the rest of the day.”

you ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking up to meet yours, “as tempting as it sounds, i really do have to run to the store. plus, i have to get some stuff for dinner.”

he sighed dramatically, “okay,”

you walked into the closet, rummaging through his side and stealing one of his hoodies and fishing out a pair of sweatpants. a quick outfit to run a few last minute errands.

he had found his way to the kitchen, standing at the coffee pot. you pinched his side, kissing his shoulder. he turned his head and smiled, leaning down and kissing your head, “need anything while i’m out?”

“mm,” he hummed, “breakfast? i don’t feel like cooking.”

you laughed, “me either. i’ll pick up something.”

he nodded, smiling playfully, “i guess you can take my car.”

“oh i was going to,” you said, grabbing his key off the hook, “even without your permission.”

“rude!”

you laughed, blowing him a kiss, “i’ll be back. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

your trip to the store was quick, making it back within a half an hour, arms full of things as you carried everything inside, closing the door with your foot. you set everything on the counter, hanging the keys back on the hook.

“i’m back!”

“i’m in the bedroom!” his voice called back to you. you made your way down the hallway and into the bedroom, smiling as he held up two shirts in the mirror.

“which looks better?” he asked, holding both up against the pair of plaid pants he had picked out. you hummed, standing behind him and watching his reflection. his hair being perfectly styled and his cologne filling the room telling you he had been getting ready while you were gone.

you pointed to the white shirt, “that one.”

“you think?”

you nodded, watching him take it off the hanger and slipping it over his shoulders. you stepped in front of him, buttoning the buttons. purposefully leaving the top few open.

he rolled up the sleeves, sending you a look, “might as well have my whole shirt unbuttoned.”

“i wouldn’t complain.” you joked and he smiled, before quickly realizing your attire. you smile as he started pulling at the hem of his hoodie that sat on your frame.

“hey! this is mine.”

the baby blue hoodie looked better on you anyway, but he still liked to joke around with you, “i know.”

“thief.”

“come and get it then.” you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“oh, so now you’re in the mood?” he asked, “what was it? the buttons?”

you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “maybe.”

“you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love me.” you smiled, his hands finding your warm, soft skin under his hoodie.

“damn right i do, baby. til the day i die.”

[venusincleo]

Time. [Aaron Pierre]

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Aaron Pierre x Black!Reader, teasing, slight edging, oral & fingering (fem receiving), DDLG kink/BDSM, slight?switch aaron, self!insert, close third POV and more...

Summary: You and Aaron have been in a long distance relationship for three months, as you reside in your cozy home in Seattle, and he stays in Los Angeles for work. Only ever having a quick day trip for quality time between your busy schedules, a long awaited break comes up on both of your calendars; three days and two nights at the end of a long week. Finally having the opportunity to see each other face to face, you enjoy a weekend of deeper, more intimate moments.

Word Count: 5.3k [I got carried away.🧍🏾‍♀️]

A/N: Part Two maybe?... let me know 🫣

• • •

Glasses clink between the four beings at the table, smiles and knowing looks move along each face as you gaze at your closest friends. Jade-green, feline eyes stared at you through natural black lashes, examining your demeanor as you commented on the subject of conversation; your Alma Mater’s recent Homecoming. He wasn’t that interested in the topic to be frank. 

Aaron was originally reluctant to agree to the nightcap, but when you insisted that the people you were closest to wanted to meet him, he felt the need to oblige you. He would get you to himself soon enough.

The ambivalence he held toward the conversation didn’t stop him from listening when you spoke, memorizing the words as if he would suddenly understand the intricacies of such a place like an HBCU. 

His eyes move away from your face as he settles into his seat, and his attention goes to the atmosphere of the jazzy establishment. The penthouse lounge was airy and spacious, mimicking the deep blue night, with its own stars to match. The celestial chandeliers lit the bar in the very middle of the large room romantically, with dim lamps atop each table that could put anything in a golden light. 

“And why would they ever put Beyoncé on the flyer? We know she ain’t gon’ be there! Put the actual performers.” Your sister Valerie added, shaking her head as she sipped on her lemon drop. You weren't blood related in any sense, but she was your ride-or-die by all means. 

You purse your lips at her comment knowingly, and take a sip of your wine.

“Girl, you know they love to act like they ain’t got no money. So, they’re baiting the people who are gullible enough to buy the ticket off the strength of her face chile.” Val nods quickly and points at you in agreement, a quick ‘Yup’ leaving her lips. Your other friend, Ryan, laughs at your interaction and shakes his head.

“And that’s why I ain't going. Spelhouse is having Ari Lennox and…”

“We know how you feel about Ari Lennox.” You and Valerie say in unison, teasing your longtime friend. He shrugs his shoulders unashamed of his near obsession, and Val laughs while she turns toward Aaron’s stoic form.

“Who’ you been listening to, Aaron?” She directs the conversation to him, and he looks straight at her with his answer ready on his lips.

“Oh, I’m more of a Sade type of guy.” The London accent infused in his soft tone causes you to look up at him, the wine affecting your every sense. As your eyes reach his side profile, you can’t help but to examine him from the top of his black curls down to his pretty face and then his plump pink lips. He continued to talk about his playlist and you were just…stuck. 

How could someone look and sound so sexy while talking about music artists? It definitely helped that you were an all-encompassed music lover, and couldn’t do much without a song in the background. You loved that the both of you connected over that, and it made you listen even more whenever he spoke about a new song or album he was getting into. 

“Honestly Y/N put me on to a lot of what’s in my rotation right now.” When you hear your name, you nearly snap out of your daze but then his eyes meet yours and you blink back the need to compliment him as nastily as you thought you should. He can see the growing lust in your eyes and a small smile rises to his lips for the first time tonight, one of his hands reaching your lap.

“I’m honing his ear, ya’ll.” You joke, pulling your eyes away from him. Any more staring and you would turn into a puddle right there. Valerie laughs slightly, and begins to go on about a  recent album she really loved while the man beside you zones in on your mannerisms.

Even as the conversation trudges on, Aaron recognizes your slight avoidance, something you made a habit of when he started to really turn you on. Maybe you didn’t want to seem too forward, or you were refraining for yourself. Either way, he understood because he was similar to you in that way. He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable in your expression with him; sexual or otherwise.

But, he almost couldn’t help himself, his hand squeezing at your plush thigh through your silk dress. A breath hitches in your throat and you glance at him, the warmth of his hand through the fabric on your skin a bit too much to bear in your inebriation. As you lay your hand over his, he turns his head to look in your eyes and a jump reaches your core. All you can think of is what it would be like to have his veined hand up your dress and inside of your panties, soothing the hardened bulb between your thighs.

You can barely move, completely intoxicated by your thoughts and the man who was staring directly into your soul, seemingly watching them with you. 

From across the table, Ryan pays attention to the alluring energy between you and your man, the sexual tension horribly intense. Heat rises in his face as he thinks of the possibility that you and Aaron may become more serious than he had hoped.

He’s not the first man to come around. He thought. But when he saw the way you two spoke to each other with no words between you, fear rose in his heart that maybe –just maybe– Aaron would be the last. Your last first. 

Ryan’s fingers tap lightly against the bare wooden table, and then, he clears his throat to try and break your concentration. Seeing the both of you unphased, his bruised ego heightens his audacity, and he speaks.

“So… how does this work? Her love language is physical touch and ya’ll are never together.” He directs his question to Aaron but both of your eyes break contact to look at Ryan simultaneously. Your hands don’t leave one another’s for a moment as you take in his question.

“She has one of my sweaters that she sleeps with.” Instinctively, you run one of your manicured hands up his arm, squeezing at the toned muscle of his bicep as he replies to your friend. “We make sure we don’t miss a beat on communication…And then we plan visits like this.”

“But is that enough?” Ryan doesn’t process the answer at all. “What if she absolutely needs a hug? Then all she has is us like she’s always had…” Valerie sips on her drink silently now, thinking that Ryan is just being an interrogative friend. You could feel the venom in his questions though, and even in your struggle to figure out what it was, he seemed to have a point he wanted to make.

“Or, what if she needs some? She’s all lonely at home and you're at work, states away.” Your face begins to contort with confusion at his question, unease settling in from his suggestive tone. Why the hell would he be thinking about that?

Before you can even wrap your mind around the moment, Aaron’s arm stiffens in your hand, and you look up at his face to see a clench in his jaw. He takes a deep breath, and releases it in a soft sigh, which seems to calm him a little. But the comfort that he previously had never returns to the table.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but…” He runs a hand over his facial hair as he hesitates with his answer, not wanting to put your business out there. But truly, the only person at the table who didn’t know the answer was Ryan.

“She calls me.” 

Flashes of just one of you and Aaron’s horny FaceTime calls fill your mind, and you look away from his face quickly. Your whole body is hot with the continued memory of hearing his breathy groans mixed with the light squelching of his large hand around his shaft, pulling to his oblivion for only your eyes to see.

“And…what?” As Ryan pushes and pries for more of your intimate relationship details, you finally sit up from your comfortable lean in your seat and look him in the eyes.

“Ryan, that’s enough!” Your voice raises just a bit as you assert your lamentation. “None of this is any of your concern… What the fuck is wrong with you?” You tilt your head to the side as an attitude fills your body. 

“To be honest, it’s quite obvious that you wanted to be the answer to all of your questions.” Aaron squints his eyes in Ryan’s direction and you can feel anger breathing down your neck.

You looked down at the table as you tried to breath through this emotion, but you just felt…blindsided. A friendship that you held on to for so many years…and now it was obvious that there were possibly secret feelings brewing this whole time. 

Valerie can feel the heat radiating off of you, and she knows that it’s only a matter of time before you snap. 

“Hey, Y/N, I think this is just a misunderstanding.” She tries to talk you down but you don’t even meet her eyes, you are so livid. 

“Ryan, maybe you should apologize.” Val turns to her friend, who she is also shocked by at the moment. Her limbs are static at the awkward silence that has fallen between all of you.

“Aaron, I’m ready to go.” You alert him, and almost instantly, your gentle giant is rising from his seat to fulfill your request. His large hand is held out for you to take, and you do so, following him out of the lounge and into the elevator that would take you to the lobby on the ground floor.

• • •

Finally in your car, Aaron is still tense from the unexpected interaction with your college friend. He was under the impression that your folks would have had a positive view on you guy’s relationship, but he stood corrected. With about twenty minutes left on the drive back to your place, you both had a bit of time to process the conversation.

“He’s mouthy.” Aaron complains as he sits comfortably in the driver’s seat of your car, which was still adjusted for his tall frame. His gravelly voice feigned apathy but you could just tell that he was not happy. 

“I’m sorry about him. I’ve never seen him so…overprotective.” You try to wrap your mind around the possibility that Ryan could have felt whatever he was feeling towards you for all of the years that you had been friends. But nothing seems to truly make sense.

Just as your words registered in your man’s mind, his attention averted from the road in front of him and he turned his head in your direction.

“If that’s what you call overprotective…He’d been asking invasive ass questions all night. I’m surprised he even let you leave.” He expressed, his shoulders slightly raised with the tension in his words. Your eyes squint at his charming face as you realize what he said. Let me?

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You ask. Straight-forward. You seldom ever disagreed with Aaron, but this time he was hinting at something that was already working your nerves.

With a deep breath, Aaron can sense the tone in your voice, and he mentally curses himself for getting you even a little riled up. 

“I’m just saying,” He begins, his voice steady as it was when you saw him for the first time earlier today. “I think he has a thing for you.” 

As his calm words filter through your mind, you venture into your memories to think of the dynamic you’ve had with your friend. He was the first one you made on your Alma Mater’s campus, and a writer, just like you but in a bit of a different way. A journalist. You always had such a close knit relationship; you shared your best laughs and biggest dreams with Ryan. 

But then, you realize how you’ve never seen him with anybody. Not one romantic interest. 

You had originally thought that was because of his workaholic tendencies, but today’s events had you thinking differently. He did seem a little territorial at the lounge. A sigh leaves your lips as you try to put these new thoughts out of your mind and then you rethink a point you wanted to make to the strong-willed man beside you.

“And let’s get one thing straight.” Aaron gives you a glance as he continues to focus on the road, but your eyes stay on him as you speak. “You can be jealous, that’s human. But nobody ‘lets me’ do anything.” The attitude eases off of your lips effortlessly for it being the first time you beckoned it with him. But it doesn’t seem to phase him too much, he just fixes his full lips to agree. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The rest of your ride is smooth and quiet. A mumble of a tune can be heard from the low-playing radio station, and the heat is on just enough to push the cold of the budding fall night away. 

When you get to your apartment, neither of you say a word, but you wait for him to get to your door just like you had all day. Aaron promptly grabs the handle of the passenger side, and you get out of the seat gracefully, steadying your Saint Laurent heels on the concrete beneath you. Your hand instinctively reaches for his bicep as he closes your door and he leads you up to your apartment.

Warmth allows you to settle into your space, and you ease into your kitchen as you have many times before. Your hand reaches into your cupboard for two rose-tinted wine glasses, which are free of any stem, and you set them on your island as you turn to your refrigerator. From the enclosed appliance, you grab your favorite wine and pull at the already opened cork.

Aaron watches you intently, hoping you’ll say something, anything to break the silence.

“You want some?” You gesture the chilled bottle in front of your chest and he gazes at you with a tingling fascination. 

“Yes, please.” He answers you surely, and you resort to pouring both of you an even glass of the deep red alcohol. As you round out his glass, Aaron chuckles to himself and you peer up at his light eyes to catch his thoughts.

“Love is complicated, huh?” He grins boyishly in your direction, his lips raising over his bright teeth as he waits for your agreement.

“Mm.” You hum contrarily and turn on your heels to put the empty bottle of wine on the counter next to your fridge for later disposal. When you face Aaron again, you wrap your hand around your glass and bring it close to your lips.

“Well, I only want you.” You take a sip of your sweet, warm-noted delicacy and continue looking at your man. “It doesn’t get much simpler for me than that.” The tall specimen before you takes a large gulp of his wine, and your eyes dilate instantly as he licks the brief stain of the alcohol from his pink lips.

“Agreed.” 

Hoping to hide the growing lust in your eyes, you raise your glass and drink again, and Aaron watches you this time. His eyes scan you closely, picking up on the heightened speed that your chest rises and falls. Naturally, his focus shifts to your breasts, down the valley between them and then to both nipples, which are hardening by the second with your arousal. 

You set the half-empty glass down on the counter in front of you, and his lovely green eyes mimic the clear waters of a tropical island as they dart back up to yours. Deep, soulful brown eyes stare back at him as you take in a deep breath and release it through your nose. Quickly, Aaron walks around the island counter to meet you, his wine still in hand. Without missing a beat, he follows your steps as you turn around to watch his next movements, both of you toe to toe now.

As your pretty orbs peer up at him widely, his large, kept hand finds its way to your face. A delicate caress of his thumb against your cheek sends a trembling breath from between your lips, and heat rises in your face at the contact. Wanting to wait no longer, Aaron trails his gaze down to your mouth, and seamlessly places his over yours.

The kiss was molasses on your lips; slow, sweet, warm. He confidently parted the edges of his pucker to make way for his tongue, prompting you to do the same and graze him in a lovely tale of destiny. The taste of wine only deepened the thump of the pulse between your thighs, and soon you could feel the moisture pooling in your laced Victoria Secret thongs again. 

Aaron kissed you like he was giving you a gift. As if he wanted you to remember every detail. His attention to the kiss made you a complete mess, breathless in the very best way. And once he pulled back from you, your lowered eyes gave you away instantly. 

Curious eyes guided his pointer finger to the space under the spaghetti strap of your left shoulder, and as he readied himself to pull it off, he paused and placed a kiss along your heated skin. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, looking up at you vividly. You nod quickly, a sharp inhale lacing your lips, and then, your word.

“Yes…” Near to a whisper, but audible to his seeking ear. Another second and he took both straps from your shoulders, watching as the silk fabric folded atop itself, then stopped at the round of your d-cup breasts. An index finger between your breasts is all he uses to pull the plunge down even more, revealing your bare bosom. His mouth waters at the sight of your perfect tits and he reaches for one, squeezing at the pillowy flesh. 

Finally, his thick tongue meets your sensitive skin and his lips wrap around your nipple to suck at it passionately. A breath hitches in your throat as you feel his mouth deliver a soft pleasure, and though you want to moan you bite at your lip to muffle the sound. The vibration of your vocal cords alerts Aaron to keep going, and he pops your breast from between his lips to give some attention to the other. 

This time you can’t contain yourself and you allow a whimper to escape your mouth, then you bring a hand to the back of Aaron’s head to guide him on. With swirling eyes, he stares up into your lowered ones, and outlines your areola with his tongue before he enveloped the bulb with his lips once more. 

Then, he raised his face back parallel to yours and delivered a silken peck to your lips. His eyes taunted you as he stepped away from your blazen body, looking you up and down in your initial ruin.

“Finish your wine.” 

Your hand couldn’t move quick enough as you grabbed your glass from its place on the counter behind you. Three swift gulps ended the drink off abruptly, and Aaron smiled at your zeal, but that didn’t stop him from taking slow gulps of his lasting alcohol to keep the night at his pace. 

Once he guzzles the very last drop from your pretty wine glass he sets it down right next to the one you just finished. Then, he holds out his hand for you, which you dotingly fulfill, allowing him to lead you to your bedroom. 

Steady steps into your dark room prompts Aaron to feel along the wall for your light switch, flicking it on when he finds it. Your eyes fall upon your perfectly made bed, and then your mind travels to the thought of it disheveled due to your pleasure.

Aaron releases your hand, and stands before you with eyes that know exactly what he wants.

"Take off your dress."

Another demand that you answered with absolutely no protest. Eager hands pulled down your silk slip dress, and as it fell around your heels, Aaron began to crouch before you. One of his gentle hands wraps around your calve and the other moves your dress from the space around your feet.

Free from hazard, he lifts one of your feet cautiously, and you steady yourself on his shoulders as he uses a thumb to push the strap of the heel down. Slowly, intentionally, he takes your shoes off, and plants several feather-light kisses on your calves and up your thighs.  

A gasp leaves your lips as you feel his mouth decorating your skin with small declarations of desire. His gentle hands then trail up the back of your legs as he raises to a standing position, then he takes his hands from your body altogether. 

Withdrawal was an understatement. You didn’t expect to be so out of it, so quickly. But his touch. Oh, his touch. And those eyes? Gahdamn.

“D’you remember the safe word we came up with?” His husky voice taunts you, calls to your core with a siren song no one has ever sung before. Just him. 

You’re a little too shook to even answer him, and very quickly he recognizes that he already has you where he wants you. A cocky grin curls at his lips and he brings a hand to your chin to get your attention.

“Huh, princess?” You blink slowly, and then nod as the word comes to the forefront of your brain from one of those infamous FaceTimes.

“Mars.” He looks over your flushed face, and then lets your chin go as he takes a step back.

“Mhm. And what did I tell you to call me?” His large hands reach under his shirt to unbuckle his belt and your eyes follow his quick and certain movements. 

“Papa, Dada or Sir.” He wraps his crisp leather belt around his hand, and your eyes dart from the thick fabric to his eyes, that are already looking over at you. 

“Our main rules?”

“Never say no to Papa, only yes, not ‘yeah’. No back talk unless told otherwise. No touching myself without permission.” 

Aaron nods his head to your correct recollection of the rules you both agreed on and his Chelsea boots click against the floor as he navigates to his bag that is sitting on your dresser. Quietly, he shuffles through a burgundy satin drawstring bag, and your curiosity is piqued when he grabs something from the bag then sets it down along with his belt. 

“I don’t intend to try too much tonight,” He began, holding up a pair of vegan leather cuffs that you told him you were eyeing after an intense conversation about DDLG play. “But I did bring these.” 

Your breathing picks up at the thought of him placing those leather cuffs around your wrists and having his way with you. So sweetly, so softly. And then so deep that you can barely take a full breath. You bite your lip absentmindedly and he takes heed of your tell, bringing them over to your bed before he stands in front of you again.

“We’ll leave those for later.” He acknowledged tossing them behind you. As your chocolate brown eyes peer up at him in anticipation, he can’t help but look over your beautiful face, and then your curvaceous body. His skin continued to heat up with the thought of finally touching you the way he knew you wanted, and the sounds that you would make when you felt all that he wanted you to feel. 

Hurried hands rush to the hem of his shirt, and he pulls the true black fabric off of his body, letting it fall to the floor as he brings himself close to you. Those same hands pull you into his hold, tenderly, allowing your chests to meet in an almost overwhelming warmth. At this point your panties are soaking wet, and your throbbing cunt has become the default for whenever you are in Aaron’s presence. 

Just waiting for the word, you bring your arms around his neck, and as your manicured fingers play in the short curls at the nape of his neck, his eyes flutter in delight. One of his spots. His thick shaft fights against his black dress pants, begging to meet you for the first time. You can feel his print press against your abdomen and he breathes harder at the thought of contact. 

As he’s finally ready to put an end to the anticipation, or to begin at least, he brings his face close to yours and allows his lips to tease them for just a second. Warm, wine-ridden breath plays at your lips and nose as your eyes lower even more. But he still doesn’t give in. He wraps a strong hand around your neck, only applying pressure where safe, and then his lips meet the supple skin beside his thumb. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you process his roughness, his soft kisses and his hard dick against you. Sneakily, you bring a dainty hand to the fortress of his pants, feeling just how thick he was through the fabric separating him from you. A moan eases from your throat as you caress him and he hums at the faint sensation.

“Please…” You whisper, knowing that he most likely had a plan for the night, and nervous that you would ruin it. 

“Please what, princess.” He rasps against your skin, as he goes back to delivering torturous kisses. You breathe in a hollow breath, and then answer him.

“Please fuck me, Papa.” Your hand squeezes around his girth through his pants and he stops what he’s doing to look you in your eye. The desperation in your orbs causes him to hum with a grudging remembrance of his list for the night. He wanted so badly to give you what you begged so nicely for. But if he wanted you to have something substantial to hold on to while you were states and hours away, he’d have to stick to his guns.

With a hungry kiss to your yearning lips, he steps back from you and his eyes caress your body.

“Not yet.”

When his eyes finally made their way back to yours he glanced at the bed behind you and gestured for you to move.

“Get on the bed.” A step back was all it took for your legs to meet the cool bedding atop your mattress, and you lower yourself to sit and then lay along your queen-sized bed. 

He stared down at you from his stature, and brought his hands to the front of his pants to unfasten and unzip the closure, his dick protruding over the unzipped edges as he stood there. You watched as he rubbed his large hand over his thickness and your pussy tightened around nothing, causing you to whine at the uncomfortable sensation.

“Pa…” You drag on, getting very weary of this waiting game. Knowing just what you were wanting, Aaron stepped forward and pressed his clothed pelvis against your lace, feeling the give of your damp panties. It didn’t take long for him to reach to the sides of the thin garment, and tug them from your thick thighs, revealing the overwhelming supply of natural lubrication at your entrance. 

Aaron raised the soiled fabric to his nose and his eyes rolled closed as he took in your earthy, sweet scent. A growl exits his vocal cords, and he stuffs the panties in his left pocket, happy to now have a souvenir of his own to keep. 

Kneeling at the edge of your bed, he instantly used his wide tongue to lap up your delicacy. When he had ingested all the sticky elixir that you supplied, he started at making some more. With his mouth open fully, he placed his lips within the well of your labia, sucking on you like there was nothing else he’d rather do. 

His strong hands parted your legs on either side of you, allowing him full access to his new favorite treat. As he caught his rhythm and really got into it, he pulled up to watch a string of his spit follow his tongue away from you, and then he leaned back in to devour you thoroughly.

A throaty moan left your lips as you reached a hand down to his head to encourage him to keep going. Humming against you, he nestles his face in your pussy proudly, sucking and licking to your audible delight.

“Fu-fuck!” Your body begins to tremble in response to his zealous efforts, and though it was instinct to close your legs at such pleasure, Aaron’s strength didn’t really leave that as an option. You squirm underneath his secure hold on you, and he can tell that you’re close as you cry out the sexiest wail of pleasure he’s ever heard. 

To push you even further, he rubs his middle and forefinger into the mess of spit and your slick that he created, and he pushes them into your tightness. Forefinger first, and then both, he strokes straight in a couple times and then he turns his hand upward, using a ‘come hither’ motion. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your spine arches through your upward spiral of pure energy.

“Ohh…” You call out, amongst the ridiculous squelching that is produced from him fingering you so deliberately. Aaron can’t help but to groan at the sounds you make, biting his lip as he gets you all the way to your peak. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, and you open your eyes to meet him, your whimpers driving him wild.

“Mmh. You gon’ cum for me baby?” His English accent falters just a little as he focuses on your nut, and everything that it’s taking to get you there. Before you can even respond, speechless at his skill, Aaron wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking as he strokes his long fingers into your dripping cunt. Your drawn out cry fills the room, and your body shakes at the orgasm that is breaking through you. 

It doesn’t seem to end. The more you dripped onto his fingers, he stroked even more precisely, and the louder your sounds got. At this point you were damn near screaming bloody murder, and you were sure you’d get a not-so-polite knock at your door tomorrow morning. But for now, it felt too good to be quiet. He had to know how good he was doing you, and you’d tell him all night.

Another true climax runs all of the energy you had out of your system, leaving you too weak to protest. But, Aaron seemed to get the hint, noticing the flutter of your eyelids, and limp yet awake body. You thought you’d be able to handle a full night, but you were only finishing fourplay and depleted. What the fuck?

Opting to make himself your personal cleaner for the night, Aaron softly licks away any remnants of your screaming, leg-shaking orgasm and kisses your inner thigh just barely. Your chest heaves up and down as you try and catch your breath, eyes lower than they’d ever been before. 

Seeing you worn out like this made Papa proud, of course. But he was still dealing with a boulder between his legs that he didn’t really want to handle alone. As the gentleman he is though, Aaron raises himself from his kneeling position and climbs on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around your shivering body. 

Once you feel his warmth, you snuggle into his toned chest, your eyes closed and your mind completely empty. Just as you get comfy though, and begin to drift off into la-la-land, you hear Aaron’s soft resolve in your ear.

“Imma let you rest, but we’re not done, princess.”

Part Two [ii]

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

[lexirosewrites]

Hey happy Slick Sunday™️!! I fear this is cringe but I have had the thought of omega Steve but he’s a popstar stuck in my head and needed to get it out somewhere. And I know so many people say he would be like Sabrina Carpenter, but I wanna see high fem omega Steve but like Chappell Roan. He’s just doing the absolute most and living his best life, singing about being an omega, and love and lust between omegas. He’s drag and camp, and the most authentic to himself that he’s been in his whole life.

Obviously he blows up after his full length album comes out, which just leads to the most insane press tour that you can imagine. One of his live interviews he walks out in assless chaps, a thong and a crop top so short every time he moves his tits pop out (there are cute nipple pasties in a fun shape underneath, but it’s still scandalous). The whole interview he spends not only spreading his legs and arching his back, but nonstop talking about the new Corroded Coffin song and how hot their lead singer/guitarist is. At this point in time Eddie is incredibly well established and respected in the music industry, the song spoken of is only the second single for their upcoming 6th studio album. Steve however doesn’t really pay much mind to how established they are though, he is way more concerned with the fact that Eddie is a much older and incredibly attractive and masculine omega whomst he would like to have the babies of.

Apparently this stunt is the trick to getting Eddie’s attention. Eddie replies to a tweet saying “where can I get one” on a photo shoot set of Steve in a Barbie box. He becomes obsessed with Steve, enamored and captivated not only by him, but his music as well. Not long after this they meet at an industry party. The chemistry is there immediately; each others presence feeling like a cooling balm after a surge of electricity. By the end of the night Steve is found sitting on Eddies lap and purring in contentment.

Soon they are spotted almost everywhere with each other, holding hands, kissing, etc. There’s even a photo of Eddie playfully scruffing Stevie and his blissed out face to go with it. Within a few months Steve is spotted wearing a brand new red claiming collar with the letters EM sitting right over his bonding gland. A surprise for some considering they didn’t expect the couple to go along with anything considered traditional.

Despite these comments, until their bonding Steve is never seen without a collar, getting it made in multiple colors to match all of his outfits. And if he’s spotted wearing a new collar after their bonding, one that may suspiciously look like a day collar, well then thats their business and theirs alone. (Expect for the very explicit and kinky songs Eddie writes for CCs next album that everyone knows Steve was the muse for lol)

woo-hoo famous and flirty omega/omega steddie!!! i didn’t know i was missing this vision in my life, but i’d love to be a fly on the wall in that bedroom🤭😩🥵

[feralgirlfeelings]

★ what kind of music each love & deepspace boy would listen to! ★

hcs of zayne, rafayel, and xavier's music taste ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

pairing: lnds boys x reader

warnings: none

zayne:

he listens to classical music 90% of the time. it's not because he particularly likes it, but he just got used it after listening to classical music to focus while studying 12 hours a day as a med student. now, in pavlovian fashion, he'll play it while performing surgeries to really get him in the zone. the other 10% is, surprisingly, cutesy kpop girl group songs. think "russian roulette" by red velvet, "magnetic" by illit, and "only" by leehi. he doesn't go out of his way to find these songs, but he'll hear them in passing and get one stuck in his head. he's one of those people that'll get hooked and listen to a song over and over again, especially while he's working out or when he needs an energy boost. he's embarrassed about it, so he'll try to hide it from you, only listening to music with his earbuds in. but there's been times where you catch him:

"zayne, i didn't know you were into red velvet," you stifle a giggle. you hold his phone up to him, the song "russian roulette" on the lock screen. he crosses his arms, ears turning pink, "what's so funny about that? ...it's catchy." "nothing! i just didn't expect that from you," you laugh. you hand him his phone back, "i can teach you the dance, i know it by heart," you tease. "hmm," he raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "i'd like to see that."

xavier:

he likes a few different genres of music, but he tends to like classic rock and alternative the most. some of his favourite songs are "little dark age" by mgmt, "eyes without a face" by billy idol, and "let it happen" by tame impala. he doesn't like to explore new music often and will usually just stick to what he already likes. he'll often blast music through his through his earbuds when he's fighting wanderers alone or when he's trying to stay awake. he's had a lot of time on earth, so his taste spans a lot of different music eras. there's been a few times when he's complained about how he "just doesn't get music nowadays." sometimes he'll show you a super old song and be surprised that you've never heard of it before:

xavier hands you an earbud, the other one in his ear. he shows you a song on his phone that you don't recognize. after a few seconds of listening, you shake your head, "i don't know this one." "really?" xavier looks at you shocked. "this song was huge in the 80s." you hand him back his earbud, "see that's why i don't know it, i'm not 40," you tease. "they just don't make music like this anymore," he sighs. you laugh, "xavier, that makes you sounds so old!' he smiles back at you, "i think those songs are just timeless."

rafayel:

he's into artsy stuff. he's one of those people who listens to a song or album multiples times to dissect and analyze every part of it, appreciating it as an art form. some of his favourite songs include "my love mine all mine" and "washing machine heart" by mitski, as well as "movement" by hozier. he plays music while working on paintings, because apparently, "listening to complex music helps with the artistic process." he also experiences sound-to-colour synesthesia, which explains why the music helps him paint. he has a really pretty singing voice and will often hum or sing his favourite songs, but will get shy when you ask him to sing for you. despite his usual pretentious music taste, he'll occasionally get hooked on some generic top 40s song, like something by drake.

rafayel had been humming the same song over and over again while working on a painting of you. you couldn't help but close your eyes and focus on the melody, "what song is that?" you ask. he pauses from humming, his concentration on his painting unwavering, "my love mine all mine by mitski." "it's nice, i've never heard of it before," you reply. "i'm not surprised, i have spectacular taste, you know," he boasts. you stare at him blankly, "wasn't your top song last year passionfruit?" holding back a laugh. his ears and cheeks turn bright red, "those are never accurate anyways."

[jinnie-ret]

Hiii can I rq a skz x 15 y/o trainy were she acts v gen z n stuff?

generation z

aka 3 times Y/N left the boys feeling old

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, crack

content warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

summary: she's the youngest of the group and the boys can't keep up with her internet slang

Ok first of all I'm sorry my mind got jumbled and I wrote this as the ninth member instead, but if you want to you can still read it as a trainee friend :) also I tried so sorry if you find this cringe lmaoo

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

1) Slay

Y/N was currently on a VLIVE with danceracha, not that she was a part of it, but she was the best hypeman around, both the boys and Stays knew this. They were practicing 'Wow', the danceracha track and Y/N was obsessed.

"Wow, wow, wow!!" Y/N shouted along with the song's chorus, comically jumping up and down in the back of the room and waving her SKZ lightstick around. It was quite the scene, Stays laughing in the comments at her enthusiasm whilst admiring the boys dance.

As soon as they finished dancing she cheered loudly for them, handing them their water bottles and reading the comments from Stays.

"'Y/N is the best hypeman', duh!" Y/N jokingly pulled an obvious face at the camera as she continued reading comments, Hyunjin sitting next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"'Y/N is so me'," Y/N read out and smirked, "hey Stay..."

"Oh lord," Hyunjin moved away, already anticipating that their maknae was going to do something that would disturb his ears. And he was right to do so.

"I AM YOU, I SEE ME IN YOU-" Y/N sang loudly at the top of her lungs, before Lee Know muffled her shouts with his hand.

"Aigoo, our Y/Nnie is so loud," he patted her head too, a condescending smile on his face.

"Yah hyung! You're normally the loudest! Let her be hyper!" Felix giggled, pushing Lee Know's hands away from Y/N.

"Yeah, Stays think I'm funny!" Y/N stuck her tongue out as the boys and her sat around reading the comments again.

"Go on then, give us a joke, Miss Comedian," Hyunjin poked her cheek.

"Ok, Lee Know your hands smell like cat litter," Y/N shrugged her shoulders and said bluntly, making danceracha burst out into laughter and Lee Know get up to chase her.

"That wasn't even a joke," Hyunjin giggled.

"It was a diss," Felix laughed along, the other two still running around the room. It was too much for Stays to handle, this moment going into many fan compilations in the future.

"Hey, hey Stays," Y/N stood in the middle of the room, fighting against Lee Know as he tried to drag her off screen.

"Hey, Stays, all around the world, you make Stray Kids SLAY!!" Y/N cheered and then squealed as Lee Know lifted her into the air.

"What-" Hyunjin facepalmed, shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"I'm gonna have to use that one," Felix nodded as he giggled.

2) Gyatt

Y/N was currently recording her parts in the ROCKSTAR album, entering the studio with an iced coffee in hand.

"What's poppin?" she matched Han's energy as he laughed and repeated after her, Chan and Changbin shaking their heads with small smiles.

"Ok, Y/N, we're recording Megaverse first, you ready?" Chan pressed the button to speak so Y/N would hear him once she was in the recording booth.

"Aish, my ears!" Y/N jumped at how loud his voice was and ducked down to crouch on the floor, making the staff laugh with the members.

Soon she began recording a small rap part which was new for her, she was part of vocalracha and so was used to singing on their tracks.

"Ok, Y/N, do the same again but just a bit louder, like you want the world to hear your message," Changbin leant over Chan as he gave some advice.

"Ok, ok, I got this," Y/N told herself, "GYATT!" she randomly shouted, before continuing to nod, not hearing or looking at the looks of confusion and amusement spread across the faces of 3racha.

She finished recording her rap part successfully and exited the booth, the boys praising her but they only had one question on her mind.

"What was that you shouted?" Chan rose an eyebrow at her, grinning.

"I shouted a lot of things, you told me to shout my rap," Y/N shrugged with a confused smile, hands resting in the pockets of her hoodie.

"Don't play dumb," Changbin pointed out, messing her hair.

"Ohhh," Y/N realised and laughed, "hey Changbin, just start walking over there for a second."

"Why?" Han laughed from the sofa, wondering what the maknae was up to.

"Just do it," Y/N further prompted and so Changbin sighed and nodded.

"GYATT!!!" Y/N shouted once again, as she very obviously looked at Changbin's butt.

"Omo," Chan covered his ears and laughed in shock.

"Understand now?" Y/N laughed.

"Not really, no," said poor Changbin, who had turned around in shock and didn't see what happened. It was often they didn't understand their maknae's slang words.

3) Rizz

Stray Kids were currently filming for Teen Vogue, taking part in the Compliments Battle, a video that would quickly win over Stays' hearts as one of their funniest videos ever.

Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin had already gone, the latter unable to take Seungmin's compliments no longer.

"Innie, I'll avenge you," Y/N whispered to her fellow maknae, who in turn grinned right back at her.

"Yah what are the maknaes talking about?" Seungmin have them an unimpressed look, folding his arms.

"Hyung?" Jeongin asked.

"Yeah?" Seungmin asked back.

"Shhh," Jeongin commanded lightly, making the members laugh. Y/N took her seat opposite Seungmin whilst everyone laughed.

"Y/N is so precious, and has the purest soul, Y/N is my... everything," Seungmin stared Y/N dead in the eyes as he spoke to her, the girl cringing.

"Seungmin is my puppy, I love him so much, cute puppy Seungie so talented," Y/N said sweetly, being over the top as she spoke.

"Oh my gosh," Jeongin wrinkled his nose hearing the words.

"I think I just threw up a bit," Seungmin said in English.

"Wah? Who said that about me?" Y/N gasped and laughed.

"I did. About how you just spoke to me," Seungmin laughed at Y/N's face.

"Yah give me a compliment," Y/N folded her arms.

"Ok, ok," Seungmin stopped laughing, "Y/N is my queen."

"Woahhhh, I'm gonna have that on replay," Y/N smirked. "Let's see... Seungmin is so handsome and sexy- I'm not reading that... Forget the tweets lemme use the Y/N rizz," she smirked as she pulled up her sleeves.

"Rizz?" Jeongin repeated after her looking confused.

"Hey Seungmin, what do you say we go on a romantic walk and pee on a lamppost?" Y/N smirked, the guys choking on their breaths as they were shocked at what she said.

"Y/N... What?!" Seungmin gasped.

"He reacted, he's out!" Jeongin clapped happily.

"No, let me keep going I've got more. He's a puppy get it? It's not weird! Hmmm, what else..." Y/N defended herself and began, as her leader shared nervous glances at the staff, but she didn't need to know that. "Hey are you my dog when I'm depressed?" perhaps Y/N left a pause for too long, "because I just wanna... give you... kisses... Guys stop looking at me like I'm weird!"

Jeongin covered his face to avoid her wrath.

"This isn't just Y/N rizz! This is puppy rizz!"

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami

[wlntrsldler]

If the boys played “never have I ever” in an interview, what would be revealed to the public?

I SPRINTED TO MY COMPUTER

here's the transcript of poisoned mercury's buzzfeed interview where they played never have i ever as part of their press tour to promote their new album:

interviewer: thank you guys for coming!

luke *smiling while he fixes his mic*: thanks for having us :) we were just talking about how we used to do buzzfeed quizzes when we were younger.

travis: there were many days where we'd be in luke's house back in connecticut and completely forget that we were supposed to be rehearsing because we got caught up trying to figure out which inside out emotion we were.

interviewer: well, i'm glad to hear it because today we're gonna play a game of 'never have i ever.'

chris: unrelated but i fucking love that show. team paxton for life.

luke: dude no. ben is clearly the right choice.

connor: ok mr. enemies to lovers, of course you'd say that.

luke: shut up???!

travis: i think if we took the inside out quiz again right now, i'd get disgust because that's how i feel being in a band with two idiots who are so in love with their girlfriends.

connor: swear to god if i hear another "no you hang up first," from either one of you *looks at chris and luke* i'm blowing my brains out.

interviewer looks around the room, trying to ask the producers what she should do. the video editors are already stressing because they know they have to bleep out a lot of the words the boys are using.

interviewer: .... so let's start with the first question. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.

chris: fuck, how did you get all of us on the first question?

connor: yeah we've gone skinny dipping a few times, but the most recent was last summer. mama c-- shoutout mama c, we love you!

luke: yeah, we love you mama!

connor: she put all of us on timeout and we spent the entire summer at a music camp and on our last night, we all went skinny dipping at the lake with our roommates.

luke: oh shit, i forgot about that. those were good times. *looks at chris* i miss camp bro.

chris: me too.

travis *stares deadpan into the camera*: do you see what we have to deal with?

interviewer: never have i ever had a crush on a friend's sibling.

travis: guilty.

chris *turns his head so fast*: given that you're related to connor and luke is an only child, you better be talking about a non-band friend.

travis *shrugging*: your older sister is hot, rodriguez.

chris: stay away from my sister.

luke *looks at the interviewer with wide eyes*: next question or you'll have a video to submit to worldstar.

interviewer: oh! uh, okay-- never have i ever accidentally posted something to my main account instead of my private or close friends one.

connor *cracking up*: castellan, wanna take this one?

luke *blushing*: this feels like a targeted question because we know the infamous video of me with the handsome squidward filter on (the hozier incident) that was supposed to go on my close friends story! i was so embarrassed. to be clear, i was JOKING. i don't actually flirt like that.

travis: i've seen you flirt with y/n, and you in the squidward video had more game than you normally do.

luke *teasing because he knows travis does not want a relationship*: and yet who's single between the two of us?

connor: oh he got you there.

travis: y/n, if you're watching this, you deserve better. he's a loser. i have better friends i can set you up with.

luke: five star, if you're watching this, you're stuck with me. there's no going back.

interviewer: never have i ever had a song written about me.

chris: this is a great pivot to promote our sophomore album's lead single, "kiss her you fool!" we wrote this song about our front man, luke, here. our second album "optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you)" is out now.

interviewer: i love that shameless self-promo.

connor: i think we as a band can benefit from having some shame, but thank you.

chris *turns to luke*: this will also come as a shock to you, but there's another song out in the world that's kinda about you.

luke: huh? which one?

travis: quinnie, remember her? she was in cabin 7. she wrote the bulk of it, but y/n actually gave her the idea. chris and connor helped her with instrumentals and the song is sick.

connor: it was amazing. quinnie is so talented. if you guys haven't heard her music, i highly, highly recommend it. the song we're talking about is called touch tank. you guys should check it out.

chris: agreed. she's also just a fucking cool person. she's one of our closest friends in the industry.

travis *making a heart with his hands*: we love you, quinnie!

interviewer: okay, final question since we're running out of time. never have i ever gone on a world tour for my band's second album.

luke *laughs*: i see what you did there. that was good.

connor: we are soooooo excited to announce that we're going back on tour! this summer, we'll be seeing all your beautiful faces again. tickets go on sale this friday! we hope to see you there!

luke: check out our band's twitter for more information on how to get tickets and to see if we'll be coming to a city near you.

chris: we miss seeing you guys!

travis: see you guys so soon! we love you!

interviewer: that's all the time we have for today. thank you guys so much. it was a pleasure!

[oetscop]

no other band or artist has ever been able to capture exactly how i feel with words. even if they can sound kinda silly sometimes

literally who would i even be if i never found fox academy

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help. 

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers. 

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed. 

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need. 

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout. 

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute. 

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her. 

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long. 

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?” 

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.” 

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows. 

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate. 

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!” 

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!” 

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying. 

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit. 

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh. 

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease. 

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood. 

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…” 

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.” 

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you. 

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly. 

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it? 

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.” 

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.” 

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid. 

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up. 

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point. 

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. 

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible. 

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured. 

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up. 

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it. 

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips. 

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously. 

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief. 

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you. 

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer. 

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression. 

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg. 

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.” 

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses. 

“Do what?” 

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier. 

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. 

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh. 

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin. 

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips. 

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.” 

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.” 

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting. 

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops. 

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs. 

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him. 

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you. 

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face. 

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect. 

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares. 

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

--

[duffslut]

Out of my mind

Axl Rose x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 595

Warnings: Smut! Minors Dni.

You were bored, Axl was working all day, trying to write a new song for his new album, and you were already bothered by his lack of attention to you. You entered the room where he was and stared at him for a few minutes until he looked back at you.

- What? - He asked.

- I'm bored... - You said, dragging your body lazily towards him, trying to snuggle in.

Axl pushed your body away before you could wrap your arms around him, turning his attention back to the sheet of paper in front of him, with only a few words written on it.

- Not now. - He said, not caring about the incredulous look on your face. - Go find something to do.

- Nooo I need attention! - You whimpered, stomping your feet hard on the floor.

- Stop being a fucking brat! - Axl said, fiddling with his red hair nervously. - Get out!

You cursed him back, but in a slightly lower tone than his, and slammed the door hard as you left.

You walked back into the living room and looked around for something to do, but as soon as you saw Axl's new speaker on the floor, you had a new idea.

- You walked into the party... - You entered Axl's room singing, the music blasting through the house.

- TURN THIS SHIT OFF! - Axl yelled.

- And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner... - Axl stood up and you continued singing, pretending not to hear his screams. - They'd be your partner and...

You ran, the music continued at full volume as you fled from Axl who was running furiously after you. Axl turned off the speaker when you passed through the living room, and you took the opportunity to hide in the kitchen.

- Now you've got my attention. - You jumped in fright when you heard Axl whisper in your ear, coming up behind you without you noticing. - Imma shut your fucking mouth now.

Axl picked you up and laid your body on the cold marble of the kitchen counter, he ripped off your shorts and panties and spread your legs wide open. He covered your mouth with his big hand and leaned down to your pussy, spitting on your clit before sliding his tongue all over it, his hands continued to hold you as he sucked your pussy, fucking your hole with his sharp tongue again and again, teasing you until you're close to cumming and then stopping, waiting a few seconds and doing it again. You tried to complain to him but his hand was still firmly over your mouth, and all you could do was let out indecipherable moans and murmurs as he buried his head between your legs. Axl finally allowed you to cum when he stuck two fingers inside your soaking wet pussy and as soon as you did, he pulled them out and stuck his big cock in. That's when he finally took his hand off your mouth and you could finally moan as he banged you, holding your waist tightly as he fucked you, thrusting his cock so deep inside you that you saw stars above your head, his size was so big that it still hurt a little when he fucked you so hard.

- Are you satisfied now? - Axl said, squeezing your cheeks and looking deep into your eyes. - Needy bitch.

You went crazy, Axl threw your legs over his shoulders and his thrusts got even faster, you moaned like a real whore, but you couldn't help it with Axl making you cum for the second time, at the same time as him.

[xanticore]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Genre: fluff

Note: this is my first metallica fic so pleaseee keep that in mind. I hope whoever reads this enjoys.

Setting: late 90s ~ early 2000s..ish

Summary: Kirk is on tour and he decides to stop by the local guitar store. He ends up staying longer than expected when he overhears a riff that sounded impressive. Assuming it was a guy, but was taken aback when it was a girl...a girl who doesn't seem to know who he is.

It was the weekend and I was starting my weekend off, our next show being on Thursday and Friday of next week. This gave me time to myself to find local comic stores and guitar shops. I was honestly in my own little world as time passed by quickly; I didn't mind at all because I was going to do the whole process again on Sunday. I left the comic book store with a new manga and some new released volumes. All Junji Ito works, no surprise there.

The next stop of the day was the guitar shop. The air was cool and the store was just so fucking huge, It was heaven to me. The store had a variety of items. Vinlys, cassettes, cds, and even some band posters...but my main focus was the guitar wall. All different types of styles and colors, different collaborations of pop culture, anything you could think of-this store probably had it.

A guitar that has been newly stock was the black and red Les Paul. It looked so gothic and vampiric. Younger me was just screaming at me to get it...which It was my plan. I asked a worker to take it off the shelf so I could practice some riffs on it. Just as I imagine; it was a smooth and crisp sound. A sound I was looking feel and I probably would make this guitar debut when I head to Japan.

It was already 5 pm and James was just blowing up my phone. I forgot all about our band dinner. I sighed packing up my things and unhooked the guitar from the amp. On my way towards the front to ring up my guitar, I overheard a riff coming from a room that was being occupied. It looked like it was a guitar lesson in session.

I continued to listen and soon heard a solo. It was definitely in the metal genre. Whoever that dude was; shredding that guitar like it was the last thing on earth. It intimidated me how good it sounded. Almost making me jealous of how I didn't think to use this type of style in a song.

I heard them stop and minor shuffling going on in the room. I quickly walked away and acted like I was looking at the vinyls. I glanced over at the door and saw a tall beautiful girl. She nearly took my breath away. The way she played really matched her style of clothing. She was a goth but it was familiar style I've seen in Japan. Her hair was dyed a dark red and her make up was flawless.

I needed to compliment her and asked her about that solo of hers. I was stupidly stuck in my place but managed to get to her with a sudden boost of confidence. "H-Hey, nice guitar. I heard you playing in that room. You sounded amazing." I complimented her with a smile in admiration.

She smiled back and looked somewhat excited. Did she recognize me? Did she not expect a guitarist from the most known metal band of all time-

"Thank you so much! Are you also a fan of Malice Mizer? I was playing one of their songs."

"Malice Mizer? never heard of them.."

The girl frowned but soon lit up when she started to explain the band to me. "It's a rock band from Japan. Visual Kei style of music over there. I'm really into bands like X Japan and Dir En Grey."

I've never heard any X Japan songs but I definitely seen posters of them in Shibuya. I know they are well loved and idolized in the era of rock music over there.

"There's actually a Malice Mizer cassette next to you of their new album. You should buy it and give them a listen? They won't disappoint." She giggled. I eyed her movements when she moved closer to me, only to pick up the packaged cassette tape. The cover had a silver cross and the band's name in black in the middle. But enough about them, her little giggle was just so cute. If only I could hear that from her more often.

"I'm Kirk."

"(name)"

A beautiful name as well. I didn't want to add anymore details of my name because I knew it wouldn't matter and honestly...i'm really enjoying that. It felt more natural to speak with a non fan. Nothing was forced and she genuinely seemed to enjoy just talking about her favorite music; unlike some girls i'd meet at clubs.

"Well Kirk, I hope to see you around?"

I didn't say a word but I just nodded. I tried to stay positive but it was a pain I wasn't gonna see her again. I bought my guitar and cassette watching the cashier put it in a case. I left the store happy and somewhat sad, but, seeing that girl smile just brighten up my mood...

I hope to see her again.

a/n: so what we thinking?? yay or nay?

gif from: @ba11ltongue

dividers: cr to owners

[carolmunson]

orange colored sky verse

he toys with the strings, a familiar riff from his late teens, nailed it right before he turned twenty. his foot taps along with the beat, in the zone, in the low hum of a side table lamp where the edison bulb glows orange. sometimes he unwinds like this — plays with his guitar with a bourbon in a glass next to him. better than his therapist, better than a phone call with steve. in his many decades of being alive, it’s the only thing that slows the gears in his head to a stop. just the strings and him. just the music and him.

you pad down the metal steps into the dark open concept kitchen and living room. he’d been off all day, and you knew this was his quiet place. him and his guitar. well, one of them, his favorite.

he doesn’t really look up when you go to the fridge for a pellegrino, he started buying them for his place when you mentioned liking them once. he replays the riff in a melody over and over, your head bobbing with the song.

‘let’s just forgeeettt, everything we said…’ you mumble sing under your breath. enough that his strumming stops and he looks up at you with a goofy grin, glasses perched on his nose.

‘what do you know about this song?’ he asks, voice like a worn record in the quiet of the apartment.

‘i got ears, babe. i was alive when the album came out,’ you laugh, cracking open the water and handing it to him.

‘nah, you would’ve been too young to be listening to that,’ he shakes his curly hair, taking a sip and putting it next to his bourbon.

‘ed it was 1999, you think i didn’t listen to american football in my emo years like, five years later?’ you go back to the fridge to get another water, this time actually for yourself.

‘ah yes, your scene phase,’ he nods, playing a harsh chord across the strings.

you roll your eyes, ‘it’s not a phase.’

‘oh i know,’ he teases. you make your way back over to press a kiss to his cheek.

‘you would know,’ you nod, ‘you’re still stuck in your grunge phase.’

when you lean back up to turn toward the spiral staircase he hear his quiet plea.

‘wait — um,’ he starts, ‘do you wanna stay down here with me?’

you look at him with a soft quirk to your brow, knowing he prefers to be alone when he’s down here tinkering, ‘you sure?’

‘yeah i,’ his face softens, ‘i just like bein’ around you.’

you come back toward him to offer another kiss on his cheek, spiky with new hair growth — not that you mind. you settle down on the sectional in the dark, watching his fingers and hands flow into his forearms while he plays new and old, some originals. he’s not trying to impress you, but you are always impressed when he plays. you know he knows that it does a little something for you.

but what you don’t know is that he’s never met a person that makes him feel quite like it does when he plays his guitar. that flows through him so effortlessly, like every song he’s ever written. you’re his favorite music to play.

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet and @corsage! Have a slightly longer snippet than usual to introduce you to a musician AU I am in the very very early stages of working on. ([Band name] redacted only because I haven't settled on one yet 😂 My dumb brain that loves a pun keeps suggesting Strand and Deliver but that's too silly)

-

TK blinks. For a moment, he’s sure he heard wrong. “A tour?”

“Limited American, to start,” Billy says. “And then expanding to Europe if we can, depending on ticket sales.”

With another blink and a dumbfounded shake of his head, TK reiterates, “You want me to go on a world tour? When I literally just got out of rehab?”

Billy frowns. “Oh, is there like … more shit you need to do? With that?”

“I – not, there isn’t …” TK babbles, unable to adequately voice why he’s reacting this way, because really, Billy isn’t wrong. He finished his 30 days. It’s been two weeks on top of that, and he’s stayed away from anything stronger than a regular strength Tylenol for the headache he had last Thursday. He’s not on probation, he’s not being required to do another month in some kind of halfway house. The only thing on his calendar for the foreseeable future is rotting on his couch with a bowl of cereal and binging some sitcom he’s already watched a million times. He doesn’t really have a good reason that he shouldn’t jump right back into work, he just wasn’t expecting it to happen. He hasn’t even reconnected with his band, yet.

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything,” Billy tells him, folding his hands on his desk and looking at TK with a furrowed brow. “If you don’t think you’re ready, we can put all this on hold until you are.”

“But?” TK asks, sensing there’s a big one coming.

Sniffing loudly, Billy’s hands transfer to his keyboard. It clacks noisily in the quiet room as he types, and then he rotates the monitor so TK can see the screen.

The sight that greets him is a Google search of his own name, and as Billy slowly presses the down arrow on his keyboard, TK’s eyes travel over headline after headline – Musician TK Strand seen emerging from upstate drug and alcohol rehabilitation facility, and Lead singer of [band name] checks out of rehab; fans wonder what’s next for the group, and [Band name]’s critically acclaimed album dropped almost eight months ago, here’s why no one’s heard from them since.

He gets stuck for a moment on a particularly cruel one, questioning whether the band will have what it takes to pick up where they left off after a widely publicized relapse derailed what should have been their biggest tour to date.

“The most surefire way to shut all this up, is to get right back on the horse,” Billy says, in a voice that’s serious but not unkind. “You’ve still got an album full of new songs that your fans are dying to hear live, it’s just a few months later than it was supposed to be.”

“They don’t think I’ve got what it takes.” TK nods toward the computer screen.

Billy rotates it back toward himself so TK can’t see it anymore. “They’re wrong.”

“What if they’re not?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess,” TK concedes, swallowing over his dry throat.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“The label suggested it, just so’s you know.”

“God, what?” TK groans, expecting the worst.

“If you agree to this tour, they want to pick your opener.”

“Oh.” TK frowns. It’s not nearly as bad as some of the things he was imagining. “That’s all?”

Pursing his lips, Billy asks, “You heard of Carlos Reyes?”

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but TK doesn’t recognize it well enough to be positive as he asks, “Carlos … wait, that song that’s been all over TikTok? That people are like hoedown dancing to?”

“That’s the one.”

“He’s a country singer,” TK says, stating what surely must be obvious.

“He is,” Billy agrees without further explanation.

“I don’t feel like we’ll have a ton of crossover fans.”

“He is up and coming.”

“Does he even have more than that one shitty song?”

Billy turns to his keyboard again and shows TK the guy’s Wikipedia page. He’s a year younger than TK and handsome in that wholesome, good Southern boy sort of way, complete with a cross necklace glinting against his clearly shaved chest. As Billy scrolls to the bottom, TK’s gaze catches the information that the lead guitarist and bass player for Reyes’s travelling band are a married couple, and TK barely holds in a scoff.

“He has two albums and an EP,” Billy points out. “He just hasn’t really taken off much, until now.”

Annoyed, TK asks, “And the label thinks, what, we can’t put asses in seats anymore without some lame TikTok star? That I can’t?”

“He’s not a TikTok star, he’s a musician with a growing fanbase. And he’s got a reputation that is not, unlike yours at the moment, covered in shit,” Billy explains in a no-nonsense voice.

“Right.” TK huffs and slides back in his chair. “So, that’s what this is. I was high at a Grammy party three months ago and now my name is mud, so the label wants me to bring some Mouseketeer in a cowboy hat along to calm the shareholders down.”

“I doubt they’d put it exactly that way.” Billy exhales and shrugs. “But basically, yeah. That’s the long and short of it. Reyes and his band are good clean fun, whereas people are still circulating pictures of you almost puking on Ariana Grande, so they’re not willing to put up the money for the tour unless you agree to bring him with you.”

“Fabulous,” TK mutters. “What could go wrong.”

“For the sake of your future in this business, you better hope absolutely fucking nothing,” Billy warns, and it still isn’t unkind, but he isn’t joking.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

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