#dfm2

[bllfoxx]

Knitting and beer. @torchandcrown @bigalicebrewing #dfm2 _ _ _. _. _. #instagramnyc #instanyc #picoftheday #2020photoproject #2020 #145of366 #nycphotoues #nycinstagrammer #nycinstagrammer📷📱 (at Casa Da Princesa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CAlJnJrpJiC/?igshid=1wvsjvr7irup7

[bllfoxx]

Today’s beer haul, once again from SoHo @torchandcrown #sharehouse summer kolsch, #dfm2 #tenement. Beer mug from a neighborhood block party at @thebronxbrewery #independentbeer #independentbrewery #drinklocal #drinklocalbeer #drinkloud #unitedbybeer #microbrewery #craftbeerdrinkerofinstagram #beerdrinkerofinstagram #nycinstagrammer #nycphotoues #nycinstagrammer📷📱 #nyccraftbeerdrinker #craftbeernotcrapbeer #craftbeer #beerislife #beerisculture #drinklocalbeer #brewedinnewyork #brewedinny #thinknydrinkny #brewedinnyc #nyccraftbeer #thebronx #brewedindasbronx #bronxcraftbeer (at Casa Da Princesa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CAi9W4epQMI/?igshid=9scax738p830

[one-track-daily]

Joergmueller DFM2 (2018)

From the album: Drawn From Memory (Rohs! Records)

[fuckyeahadamtina]

Don't Forget Me [2/3]

Oh baby there you again, there you go again, making me love you..

I should write a song about her. Or maybe I shouldn't. She would get so smug. She will never let it go. Never.

  I still ended up with a song. One More Night.

  I pulled her to one side just before we go to the live shows. She yelped and her face formed a frown. Adorable. She pulled her arm back and pulled me by my collar to go inside her dressing room. She said something about not liking to see us in public together. What-the-fucking-ever.

  "I am not having sex with you 2 minutes before the lives!"

Yes. That's totally what I want. I shook my head and snorted, "Like we haven't done that already!"

"What do you want?" She had her hands on her hips now, staring at me. I could see that she's losing her patience with me already.

"Here." I said as I handed her a USB stick.

"What is it?" She asked playing with the stick.

"See for yourself."

"Levine, I swear to God if you recorded us having sex, I will kill you with my own hands."

I laughed before pulling her by her waist and kissing her on the forehead, "Goodluck tonight. No hard feelings." I winked at her. I could see the change of emotion on her face after I kissed her. She was blushing. I smirked at her before leaving to get to the studio.

  After that night's show, we stayed after hours again. I made her so mad during the live shows that I left the studio with endless scratches on my back and neck. I didn't let her go too easily. She would need a lot of concealer to cover up the marks on her neck, that's for sure. I love leaving marks on my girl.

  I wonder if she's checked out the usb yet.

~

A week later. 

  She knocked on my dressing room as soon as she arrived on set. She never knocks. I sat up on my chair and twisted round to greet her. I told my make up artist to go out and offered her to sit down. She raised her hand to shut me up and I just shrugged. I know her well enough to shut up when she tells me to shut up.

  I pushed myself to stand up and cornered her. She took a deep breath in and then released it. She fidgeted inside her blazer pocket and gave me a usb stick. The same one that I gave her.

"Did you even-"

"Yes."

"Wh-"

"Shut up." She told me with a smirk on her face. "My lipstick gets you out of breath?" She bit her bottom lip after she said that. God! Why does she do this to me? "I'm stuck on your body like a tattoo?" She leaned her face a little closer to mine, "You feel stupid crawling back to me?" She leaned closer. Damn, what game is she playing? "Do you cross you heart and hope to die that you're only going to stay with me..." She decided to bite my bottom lip, "for one more night?" 

Oh fuck it. I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, her legs instantly wrapping around my waist. I pushed her against the wall as I assaulted her neck once again, she moaned everytime my teeth grazed over the sensitive, ticklish spot on her neck. Still, she urged me to keep doing what I was doing by pulling my hair with one hand and the other hand? Well, let's just say it was somewhere south.

  I discovered that the more she hated Tony Lucca, the more passionate she was with sex. The rougher the better.

  The day of the finale came. She didn't talk to me at all. Ignored me completely. I thought I get her. I thought I really did. I don't get this woman.

  I sent her a copy of my band's brand new album. I signed it and all. Five minutes later, she busted in my dressing room with the cd and threw it to me.

"What is wrong with you?"

"You don't like it?" I asked flipping the CD backwards and scanned through the tracks, "Lucky Strike" I said and she looked away.

"Stop writing songs about me. I hate you."

"You don't mean that." I smirked and stood up trying to corner her again. She backed away and shoved me.

"I do, you asshole. I really do." 

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Goodluck." I told her.

"I'll see you next season." 

"Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever."