#I want to write a whole series for that album

[worldsokayestbabysitter]

a little snippet that might one day turn into more. a kind of sequel to this

-----

Steve remembers holding his mamas hand every Sunday, the only day they consistently spent together when she was home. Remembers sitting in the pews, trying to keep his eyes open in the midday heat. Remembers looking down at his hand in hers, seeing that his was entirely engulfed by her painter’s hands. Felt like he could survive anything as long as his hand fit in his mom’s.

When he woke up in the hospital, for the third time, for the last time, after he swam his way to consciousness, his mom was at his bedside. And his hand was bigger than hers, his hand was calloused, cut to hell from where he fell running from the end of the world. Her hand was still soft. More wrinkles than he remembered, but still as unblemished. She was gripping his hand like her life depended on it, even in her sleep. Same deceptive strength.

Steve knows it's only been a week since he last saw her. Leaving again, but this time he was grateful. She would be safe.

It feels like it's been an eternity. Just the weight of his mom's hand has brought him back to himself. Time feels like it's passing again, every tick of the clock and every rise and fall of her shoulders rushing through him.

His mom is here. Her hand in his, asleep, but here.

He's alive. It all comes back to him in waves. They all survived, it's over. His mama's here, and it's over.

When she wakes up and sees Steve looking at her, she freezes. Looks at him in disbelief.

They don’t say anything, at first. What is there to say? Where do they even start?

Steve wants to say, where have you been. Steve wants to say, why are you here, just you, and not dad? He wants to say, I did it all without you, I survived without you, I went through hell and lost so much and you weren't there. He wants to say, thank god you were safe, he wants to say, why didn't you protect me?

But he waits for her to speak first, doesn't think he's able to if the dryness of his throat of is anything to go by.

"Oh Steve," she finally whispers. She runs her free hand through his hair and her eyes quickly fill with tears.

"My Steve, my baby, I'm sorry," she says. She could be apologizing for a million things, for leaving him, for the long business trips, for the wounds he's starting to feel, for the years he was left alone, for the horrors he's endured, for showing up now instead of then. She could be apologizing for all of it. And Steve knows he should be angry. Knows that some distant part of him is furious and that that white-hot rage will bubble up to the surface eventually, but his mom is holding his hand, her thumb gliding across his knuckles like they used to in church, and she's here.

"Mom-" Steve chokes out. It comes out rough, through the lump in his dry throat. His mom moves from the chair at his bedside to sit on the edge of the hospital bed, hand never leaving his.

"I know, I'm here, I'm sorry," she says, her voice still soft and wobbly. Tears have started to run freely down her face, and she does nothing to catch them. She leans over and grabs a glass of water, holds it as he takes tentative sips from the straw. When he leans away, she sets it aside, helps him sit up. That same angry relief bubbles up again. Here she is, being his mom, finally. He must have really come close to death this time, he thinks.

They stare at each other again, his mom's hand running through his hair. And it's been too long since he's studied his mom's face, because he can't tell what that emotion is.

"Steve, I-" she takes a breath, struggling to find words. So different from the woman who used to pick out her sentences carefully, used to enter conversations like they were battles. "I don't know what happened, to you or to Hawkins. I know it was bad, that whatever you went through was- that it was bad enough to put you here. There's been a crowd rotating through here and I can't get a straight answer from anyone. But whatever it was, I should have been here. I should have been here a long time ago, and I'm- I'll be sorry for it for the rest of my life. But I'm here now, If you'll have me."

A year ago, hell, a week ago, Steve would've scorned the idea of it, an apology. Forgiveness past the last minute.

But his mom is here. And she's holding his hand.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

Yes! The ways the mechs and mcyt handle narrative have always been so similar to me but I've never been able to put it onto words. Would Love to hear what you have to say on the topic (after you have had a good sleep)

HI, it's time for me to get insane. Thank you for sending this ask cause now I have an excuse to maintag the post, lol. Also, I'm going to be using the term MCYT interchangeably with MCRP (Minecraft roleplay) for my own sanity. You'll know what I mean from context clues, I think.

So, hi, anyone who doesn't know about The Mechanisms. This post is going to be about some meta analysis tools that popped up in the Mechs fandom when it exploded in popularity back in 2020-2021. Due to the nature of both the Mechs and MCYT (which I'll get into in a moment), these concepts are generally very helpful for meta analysis of MCYT as well, and I think you guys would love them.

First of all, what was The Mechanisms?

The Mechanisms, originally known as Dr. Carmilla and The Mechanisms, was a band that formed in the late 2000s. It had a rotating cast of members, though most of the stuff you can easily find from them (such as their albums) was made when they had 8-9 consistent members. The Mechanisms officially released seven albums and one single before the band broke up in early 2020. The reason this band is similar at all to MCYT comes from a few things- the characters the band played, the stories the band told, and the archival aspect/age.

Because the Mechs were not a regular band, it was also a storytelling experience. Each Mechs album tells it's own self contained story (except for the Tales to be Told albums, which feature songs with their own stories that don't tie into the album at large). But furthermore, each Mechanism is a character. All the members of the band had characters they played, acting as a band of immortal space pirates moving through the galaxy on their ship, The Aurora.

The similarity to MCYT here is, of course, the characters. It's not always as simple to tell the difference between MCYT characters and actors as it was with The Mechanisms, seeing as (a lot of) MCYT doesn't start with the acting/roleplaying intention that the Mechs started with. But nonetheless, they share the understanding that even though this isn't a play or a TV show or whatever scripted medium, and that even though these characters (sometimes) share similar/the same names as their creators, they are, ultimately, characters the creators are putting on in order to tell a story. Whether that story is something more connected to the base characters (less roleplay heavy servers, Mechs backstory beats) or a story where the characters themselves are filling a role to tell a new story (more roleplay heavy servers, Mechs filling in for characters on the albums to tell their stories), there is always a story to be told.

There is also, as I said, the archival aspect. Archiving is massively important to both The Mechanisms and MCYT. It's definitely a lot harder with the Mechs than with most MCYT stuff, since the Mechs are a whole lot nicher, but that is not to say it's easy for either group. Archiving is vital to keeping both fanbases, and both sets of characters, alive, and there is only so much archiving you can rely on the creators of either to do. Those of you who take this task on are genuinely so awesome and I love you.

Alongside the archiving aspect (and as such, the lost media aspect), there's also the age of the Mechanisms, and (similarly to MCYT), the large number of people involved in the project, which results in lost and oftentimes conflicting canon beats. Mechs lore was not a strict, planned out thing. Large swaths of it were made up on the fly or forgotten down the line and rewritten or just made to work because the story needed it. As such, a lot of Mechanisms meta analysis had to reckon with the fact that the story was often telling you two or three or more things that could not be true at once nonetheless were, or was telling you something with the assumption that you knew something else, but that something else is now impossible to track down. So, sometimes, you just had to pick and choose, or try to reconstruct that lost knowledge. Similarly, varying POVs and gaps in time or gaps in story result in a similar concept for MCYT analysis- sometimes it doesn't really work if you take every piece of lore into account, so you just can't, even though every piece of lore is equally canon; or sometimes, a specific source is lost and you have to trust the memory of people who saw or were involved in the source instead.

Now, what is narratomancy? And how is it relevant to meta analysis of MCYT?

Narratomancy is the name for a few concepts of meta analysis that popped up when the Mechs fandom exploded in 2020-2021. The term was coined by @lucky-sevens (who, unlike anyone else I bring up in this post, I feel comfortable tagging because they're inactive, lol, so this won't clog their notifs), but the credit for various concepts under the umbrella of narratomancy can go to a ton of people. Personally, I'm going to be heavily referencing one post in particular by @/gunpowderedtim when it comes to the four main pillars of narratomancy, and how they are relevant here. (BTW I know OP of that post has shifted at least a bit to the MCYT fandom as well, so if you see this and would like me to tag you properly, please let me know!)

(EDIT: I was informed in the replies that lucky-sevens did not, in fact, coin this phrase, but they can't remember who specifically did. Alas another Mechs thing lost to time.)

Narratomancy refers to the general concept of the narrative as a thing within the Mechs universe. The narrative, a story that wants to be told, is an (at least semi) sentient creature that is bending the universe to its will in order to be told. This living narrative helps to explain and work through some of the problems or plot holes in the narrative, and understanding this helps a lot for meta analysis, or even just understanding the story. As stated above, I'm going to be breaking down four main pillars that the post above identified, and how they may be relevant to MCYT meta analysis. Not all of them are going to work- these were concepts made up for The Mechanisms, after all, and for all their similarities, it's not a perfect 1 to 1. Let's get into it!

Pillar 1: Universal Story

This is a pillar that has one really important and relevant concept, but I do have to bend a bit of it in order to make it work. Namely, what we're calling "the universe" here. But it's still quite important. You'll see.

As mentioned up top, The Mechanisms were originally called Dr. Carmilla and The Mechanisms. Dr. Carmilla (both the character and the creator) eventually left the Mechs to do her own thing, tell her own story, but the story of the universe at large is still hers. She's still got her name in the title, she's still the one who created the original lore, so to the universe, she's still the main character. She might not be the main character of any given story, even any given story she participates in, but it's all her universe in the end. As such, both her stories and the stories of The Mechanisms are canon, but they might not be strictly canon to each other. Because ultimately, The Mechanisms were the universe's vessel for telling stories, and sometimes the stories they told made for a weird concoction of conflicting canon, so you just had to accept that these conflicting canon beats were both canon, but which one was canon depended entirely on which story you were looking at, which one was trying to be told, who that story specifically was about (this is a concept that'll come up again later).

The reason this is a bit less relevant to MCYT in that, if a roleplay server is being well run, you (hopefully) won't have a main character in this way. And even if you do, that main character is not always going to be the creator of the server/universe, ala Carmilla. But again, it's not irrelevant, because I think this can be applied when you're looking at individual POVs of any given event or server.

Every character is the main character of their own POV, even if they might not be the main character of any given story beat or event. They have their own lore and story to tell in that POV, and when you sit down to watch their POV that is the story you'll get. It just so happens that said story might have things that are canon to it that are not canon to other POVs, that cannot be canon to other POVs, and you as the fan have to reckon with that. Sometimes these things might be small or not something that's gonna really throw you, like the conflicting Magic Mountain lore in this season of Hermitcraft. Other times, these might be really big things, like Martyn's Watcher lore in the Life Series.

But either way, while the idea that there is a Universal Story that has a clear main character doesn't really apply to servers, it certainly ties in to the idea of POVs. And furthermore, the "all of these stories are canon, but not strictly canon to each other" idea that comes along with Universal Story is a really vital thing to keep in mind when it comes to MCYT.

Pillar 2: Casting Call (Narrative Role Filling)

There are two main parts to Casting Call. The first is that The Mechanisms have a role in the stories they tell, even the stories that are not their own, like the album ones. These roles are often trope heavy, or based on pre-existing characters that the Mechanisms themselves have similarities too. The second is that the Mechanisms slot into these roles not necessarily because they want to, but because they have to in order to make the story work. Because the narrative wants them to help the story along to the ending.

This is definitely more relevant in roleplay heavy servers, but it still comes up on just about every server out there. While for the Mechanisms, the divide is between "the character I am" vs. "the character I am playing so the story gets told", the divide for MCYT tends to be a bit more "the person I am" vs. "the character I am playing so the story gets told". This divide (and people's inability to understand it) is the reason why MCYTs so often have to give the "Remember, we're all friends in real life and anything that the others weren't comfortable with wouldn't be in the videos" disclaimer. Everyone involved in this story is playing a character to move the story along, and that character may be totally removed from their real life person (such as Scott playing Xornoth in ESMP s1) or pretty similar to their real life person, but dialed up so they can tell a story, get a reaction (I don't know any of these people in real life, so I can't confidently pin someone down for this, but you get what I'm talking about).

Regardless, there is a story to be told, even if that story isn't thought out in advance, and that requires people playing the villain or the damsel in distress or the knight in shining armor sometimes in order to get it done. And, tying back into Universal Story, who is playing which of these roles can change as the canon of each POV changes (such as in Third Life, where who is filling the "villain" role depends entirely on which POV you're watching).

Pillar 3: Story Echoes

Story Echoes are a very Mechanisms based concept, because unlike everything else here, they are explicitly canon. This concept refers to the fact that The Mechanisms' stories "echo" throughout the universe, or repeat over and over again. It's in different places and different times, but these stories are out there, over and over again.

This one can apply to MCYT, but I have to admit, it's a stretch and a half. Ultimately, the way this applies here is in the fact that there's no such thing as an original story. Every story borrows from or is inspired by or is similar to another story out there. It's the nature of story telling. The first example for MCYT that comes to mind is fan Life Series, stories that take the mechanics of the Life Series but put them somewhere else, somewhen else, with someone else. However, Story Echoes are explicitly the same story repeating over and over again, which isn't really the case with this example. As I said, it's a stretch, but I didn't want to skip over this pillar entirely.

Pillar 4: Narrative Imperative

And the final pillar, Narrative Imperative, also referred to as Narrative Flow. Despite this one also being explicitly canon to The Mechanisms, it is also very relevant to MCYT, and in my opinion, the most important concept on this list for MCYT meta.

Narrative Imperative is explicitly canon in the Mechs universe when it comes to how The Mechanisms heal from injuries or death. As discussed in this post from the official Mechanisms tumblr, that healing factor functions at "whatever speed the story wants it to". This concept of "sometimes stuff just happens because it must for the story, even if it doesn't make sense or actively contradicts previously established canon" has been brought up before when we were discussing Universal Story, in respect to lore, to roleplay based story beats, for both groups. Here, it's more discussing a fact of the universe at large, a fact of how the Mechanisms function. And while the general concept of Narrative Imperative can be applied to literally any conflicting lore thing in any MCYT server or story (it's flexible in that way), I think it works best when talking about how game mechanics tie into the story.

What does death mean for this character? What does death mean for this character when on this specific server? What does death mean for this character on this specific server in this specific moment? What does logging off mean for this character, on this server, in this moment? What does voice mod or discord calls or chat mean to this character? What do skin changes mean? What does the Player Heads mod mean? What does sleep mean?

There are a million mechanics you can ask these questions about, and you can get a million different answers to each of them. Death can and does mean wildly different things on different servers (see: a Hardcore series like Naked and Afraid versus Hermitcraft). But it can also mean wildly different things on the same server to the same character at different points in time (see: the concept of "canon lives" on DSMP). Death, and numerous other game mechanics, mean whatever the hell the story (and the universe and creators involved) wants them to mean. You just have to take it in stride, the rules aren't clear because if they were, there wouldn't be enough freedom to tell a story.

Even on servers where it seems like the rules are clear, like the Life Series or other death games, death doesn't always mean what the rules say it does. Take glitch deaths, for example, like Loony's (almost) glitched death in season 1 of Deceit SMP. He glitched into a wall and should have died, but Legundo was allowed to cheat (use creative) to save him, or, had he died, been allowed to use cheats to bring him back, for fairness' sake. But this doesn't only apply to glitches- take one of Scar's off camera deaths in Third Life. I don't have the source for when Martyn talked about this on hand, but Martyn has mentioned that Scar technically died earlier in Third Life, when Martyn just snapped one day when Scar provoked him, killing Scar in a short, boring fight. There was nothing technically illegal or unfair about that kill, like with a glitched death, but when all was said and done, everyone agreed it just sort of... felt bad. That it didn't feel like a good story. So, the death was overturned, and the server went on as usual. The rules may have been clear here, but sometimes rules get in the way of a good story, so they're disregarded, simple as that.

MCYT stories are not being told in spite of their medium but in harmony with them. And as such, that means that sometimes, the narrative rules above all, and narrative imperative says that this mechanic is going to work like this, at least for now, at least for me. It might not ever work like that again, for me or for anyone else on the server, but it works like that in this moment, so you take it as is.

So, yeah, there's my essay! My final thoughts: Go listen to The Mechanisms. Go listen to Maki Yamazaki (Dr. Carmilla). I hope you enjoy these four concepts and keep them in mind when you are analyzing or playing the space of MCRP, because I think they are really helpful things to keep in mind. Have a good one.

[bighitfics]

jeon jungkook fanfics you should definitely watch before he comes back from the military.

(because girl you need it!) ୨୧ ‧₊˚

Trapped ୨ৎ by @jasminefics

— billionaire jungkook with serious anger issues, unrequited love (not really), forced proximity, marriage of convenience.

(the bgm alongside the writing is just topnotch, this author portrays jungkook as a grey character so wonderfully, you will find yourself confused but equally enthralled because you don’t know if you’re supposed to hate him or lowkey understand where he comes from)

One Night Stand With A Wanted Criminal ༄ by @bangtanff

— criminal jungkook, enemies to lovers, she fell first he fell harder kinda trope, smut, angst.

(this is a mini web series at this point, the one that deserves to air on netflix or amazon prime, the visual quality of this fanfic is unrivalled, the playlist is so convincing you’ll think its an album originally made for this series only, the best jungkook fanfic on youtube (in terms of quality)

Some Little Things Called Love ୭˚. ᵎᵎ by @.dreamers

— strangers to lovers, drama, angst, slice of life.

(it took me a while to get over this series, because I couldn’t stop crying my heart out for them, trust me when i tell you that my entire perspective on life changed after i finished watching it, some kdrama script writers need to take notes or hire her because the storyline is so impactful, we need more of such genres)

The Other Man ٠࣪⭑ by @hwangguemfictions

— love triangle, slowburn, depressed oc, simp jungkook (who fell first, and harder everytime)

(you might feel a little pissed at the beginning but every character is right at their own places, you can’t really judge or despise anyone, i love this fic with all my arteries)

From Now, Forever. 𓍯 by @hwangguemfictions

— whole kdrama feels, strangers to lovers, ill and sick oc, toxic delulu jungkook.

(I could feel the pain over the screen ya’ll, the endings really bittersweet!)

Stalker ୨ৎ by @starkofwinterfall

— stalker jungkook, university au, kidnapping, found family.

(this is so good omg! takes me back in time 😫🤚🏽 had me screaming, blushing, sliding down the door!!! the plot twist will blow your mind girlies)

have a good watch sweet cheeks ཻུ۪۪♡.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt. 4

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.

“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.

Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”

“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.

“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.

Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.

“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.

Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.

-

You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’

The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.

You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.

You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.

Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?

You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.

In the garden.

-

Miguel heard a gunshot.

It reverberated in his ears.

More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.

His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.

But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.

You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….

Miguel frowned.

The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.

“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.

Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.

Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?

Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.

You were really fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

It was an objective statement.

But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.

“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.

-

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben @berry-potchy @s0lm1n @amelialysm @migueloharastruelove @lauraolar14 @tashames @soymiguelsesposa @noblesavagex @miguelsslutprincess @lilipads (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[lovings4turn]

જ⁀➴  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊  . . .  (𝐎. 𝐏.)

— when oscar gets a little too drunk to drive home after a party at your place, you offer him a place to stay for the night

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! this was super fun to write - i have such a soft spot for writing for oscar, so

+ mentions of drinking and alcohol

a collage of empty bottles and sticky countertops were the only remaining pieces of evidence that a party had occurred in your flat. just over an hour ago, the small place had been packed with people, some you were close to, and some you were sure you vaguely knew, somehow.

loud music had been replaced by the soft sound of a vinyl playing from your bedroom as you pottered around with a black bin bag, throwing away as much waste as you could without disturbing some of the fuller bottles of alcohol. anyone who threw away a half-full bottle of gin was a sinner in your eyes. 

it was peaceful, finally having some time alone to breathe, to think. well, almost alone, anyways.

oscar stumbled around your flat with a bag of his own, steadying himself against the counter as he collected the leftover beer bottles for recycling. it was endearing, the way he seemed to trip over his own feet every now and then, the intoxication turning him into bambi taking his first few steps.

his usually pink cheeks were flushed a little darker, hair more messy as a few longer strands fell in front of his eyes. clearly putting all of his focus into his task, oscar didn’t even bother trying to push his hair away, succumbing to slightly obscured vision in his already less-than-stable state.

truth is, oscar wasn’t even meant to be staying over.

when you’d invited him to your place initially, he had claimed he would come for a drink or two, but leave early since he was already feeling pretty tired. that plan had went out of the window twenty minutes after he arrived, thanks to logan supplying him with a shot - or four - before he’d even finished his first beer. 

since he’d driven over and was in no fit state to get behind a wheel right now, you’d instantly offered for him to stay at yours. he could take your bed, the couch, wherever he wanted, as long as he stayed. because he wasn’t an absolute idiot, oscar agreed without complaint. 

another thud alerted you to oscar only just managing to catch himself against your kitchen cabinet, having lost his balance once more. you held back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him, but he caught your eye with a crooked grin.

“are you sick of me yet?” he asked, accent made even thicker as his mouth worked harder to wrap around the sounds of his speech. 

“not at all,” you replied, the words rolling off of your tongue without a second thought.

you didn’t think you could ever be sick of oscar, especially not like this. here he was, absolutely smashed, yet still making an effort to help you out by cleaning up around the flat a little even though you’d insisted you were fine doing it alone. 

anyways, to be sick of oscar right now would make you a hypocrite: you were far from sober yourself. 

a lull fell over you both, the only sound coming from the lovers rock album playing in the other room and the gentle clink of glass bottles. the padding of your sock clad feet was like percussion in the soundtrack of your simultaneous cleaning, and the whole thing felt somewhat domestic as you worked peacefully.

but, you were only human.

it was only a matter of time before you both gave up on the cleaning, vowing to do it in the morning when you were sober and more alert. the last thing you needed was for someone to drop a bottle and make the process ten times harder.

after fumbling for the kitchen's light switch and bathing the room in a cold darkness, you both moved over to your bedroom, the fatigue of the evening suddenly crashing over you.

making it to the bed seemed like far too much of an effort, yet sitting down right in front of the wooden frame was apparently much more appealing to you both.

oscar let out a soft oof as he collapsed onto the floor next to you, folding his legs up to his chest in a way that didn't look to be too comfortable thanks to his taller frame.

motivated by your own selfish wants, you let your eyes trace over every inch of oscar, taking advantage of his more oblivious state. his already sleepy eyes were lidded, and it seemed like he was fighting his own body just to stay awake for a little longer.

because nothing was ever fair, oscar caught your stare. you expected a teasing remark, maybe even a playful expression, yet nothing came.

instead, coffee coloured eyes met your own, softening reflexively as he caught your gaze. there was no mistaking it. oscar was moving closer to you.

just as your lips brushed against his, barely there like the flap of a butterfly wing, the music stopped. as the vinyl cut out, you and oscar were snapped from the bubble you’d found yourselves in, and you both pulled away with a sheepish laugh.

“fuck. two seconds,” you mumbled, huffing a little as you clambered onto your feet and flipped the record over, placing the needle back down onto the disc to begin playing the second side. 

and if you happened to sit a little closer to him when you returned to your previous position, who was to blame you?

instantly, oscar's hand came to sit on your waist, thumb brushing gently against your hip as he dipped his face closer to your own. there were no interruptions this time, and your lips found his like they'd been searching for them your whole life.

and lucky old you had the whole night to savour this moment.

[greynatomy]

where were you in the morning? - five

alessia russo x reader

this was very rushed but it’s been in the drafts so decided to just give it an ending. last part of this mini series.

previous

———

You were getting some final touches done to your in ear packs when the stage manager knocked on the dressing room door.

“You’re on in five, Y/LN.”

You nod, turning to your manager.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Walking towards the stage, shaking out your nerves, you wait for your cue.

“Give it up for Y/N Y/LN!”

Walking towards the piano, you take your seat as the spotlight shines on you. Your fingers dance on the keys, playing the melody of the song.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack frost nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos

Your eyes are closed, not wanting to look at the audience, afraid that you’d mess up.

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow Will find it hard to sleep tonight

They know that Santa’s on his way He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh And every mother's child is gonna spy To see if reindeers really know how to fly

Opening your eyes, you look out to the crowd, spotlights scanning the audience when your eyes lock onto a familiar figure — the girl who’s been stuck on your mind for months.

Unable to look away, you finished the rest of the song eyes locked in her. Hushed whispers spread amongst the audience as you have not looks away from where she stood. You thought she looked beautiful.

Finally able to look away, you sing the last notes. With a nod of acknowledgment to Alessia, you exit the stage, feeling as if you could breath again.

“You did good.” Alina gives you a pat on the back. Giving her a smile, you go back into the green room to remove the wires from your body. “Go out there and mingle for a bit.”

Nodding, you grab your phone and make your way out to the party. People come up to you left and right, some friends, many of them fans asking about new music and a possible tour, only giving them smiles and vague answers.

An hour of nonstop conversations and interactions, you feel a bit overwhelmed. Excusing yourself from the conversation about something you weren’t paying attention to, you make your way out to the balcony.

Not even a minute later, you hear the door open and close. Closing your eyes in annoyance, you turn to the person to tell them you just wanted a bit of peace when you see who walked through the door.

“Alessia.”

Her lips form a straight line, seeming to not know what to say.

“Y/N. Hi.”

You were frozen, not expecting her to follow you out here.

“Seem’s like we have a thing with meeting up outside of parties.”

“Seem’s like we do.” After a moment of silence and staring, Alessia places herself next to you. “I heard your new album.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, some of my friends are huge fans apparently and that’s how I made the connection that you were, well, you.” She shrugs.

“Yeah… I was hoping you’d have reached out when it came out.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. So bad. But I chickened out.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’ve never slept with someone after knowing them barely a couple of hours and freaked out. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again, which is stupid now that I think about it cause you write this whole song about me basically ghosting you and how you wished I left my number.”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. Don’t spiral. No need for that.” You pull her into you, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “Maybe we should start over? Is that something you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“Well, then.” You step back, holding a hand out. “Hey, I was just over there and saw you and couldn’t help but introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. Name’s Alessia.” She takes your hand into her’s, shaking it gently.

“Say, Alessia, do you maybe, want to get out of here?”

“I’d love to.”

[jiarkives]

the 1

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — if your wishes came true, you wouldn’t have been blue.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — rhysand ft. azriel (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — angst ; talks of wing clipping ; reader is an illyrian ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — welcome to my new series, the eras collection, where i write fics and drabbles based on taylor swift songs from different albums. you may request for this series with a certain TS song and a character! also, my hand was basically on autopilot as i wrote this so idk if it makes any sense lol 😵‍💫

~

You watched as your heart felt heavier and heavier with each second that passes and the bitter taste in your tongue grew more and more apparent.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. It certainly wasn’t theirs. It wasn’t their fault you fell in love with someone who wouldn’t ever look at you like how he looked at her, someone who was so close yet so far away.

You had always been Rhysand’s ride or die ever since he had saved you from getting your wings clipped in a camp. You had been by his side even before Azriel and Cassian became his brothers.

You didn’t mean to, but he made it too easy to fall in love with him. He was everything you had ever wanted, yet he never found himself to be deserving of love.

Then, everything changed after what happened Under the Mountain. He had come back a different male, far from who he was when he left. He was paler, thinner, quieter. He wasn’t the same Rhys who left. He was broken.

But none of you commented on it. You helped him to get back up, to get back on his own feet. You let him come to you, let him speak about everything at his own pace.

Then, he did.

You thought you’d feel happy that he was finally opening up, and you were, but your heart broke further when he started telling you about her, his mate. Feyre Cursebreaker. The savior of Prythian.

You were happy for him, really, but you couldn’t help but feel envious, and angry, and hurt. But you didn’t blame them. You didn’t blame anyone else, not even the Mother, not even the Cauldron. After all, it was solely your fault for falling in love with someone who was never destined to be yours, who was destined to be with someone else.

Then you had met Feyre. And you wanted to scream as you watched how she had treated Rhys, and how he had let her.

You wanted to yell at him that you were there. You were right there as you had been the whole time, that you weren’t going to hurt him like that, that you weren’t going to treat him like she did, but you didn’t. You kept your mouth shut and swallowed the lump in your throat every time.

Then, everything had gotten better slowly. She had started getting along with him and the Circle. You weren’t being left out and pushed away in any means, but you couldn’t help but feel like you had been replaced.

It still wasn’t their fault, though. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but yours when you felt your heart breaking with each step they took away from the crowd and into somewhere more private.

When they were out of sight, you excused yourself and moved to another vacant balcony and leaned against railing as she watched as the bright stars crossed the horizon.

You sighed as you looked down at your clothes. It was blue, making you laugh at the irony.

Amren had always told you that your color was blue. At first, you thought she was talking about the clothes you were wearing at the time she told you, and so you agreed. The color blue did complement you well.

Now, you realized that she was still right. Your color was blue. It was not about your clothes, though. Maybe she was talking about how you had always felt blue as you watched Rhys, as you reminded yourself time and time again that he wasn’t yours, that he will never be yours. You had always felt blue as you watched him worm his way into and break through Feyre’s walls slowly.

Then, you felt a presence join you and you didn’t even have to turn to know who they were.

“Were you bored enough that you have decided to join me, Shadowsinger?” Your tone was light and teasing, a stark contrast to the heaviness you felt in your heart.

“Is it so wrong to keep a lady company?” He fired back, leaning against the railing.

“Maybe not, but it’s not quite like you, is it?”

Then, your eyes caught a flash of blue. His siphons. And you realized.

Maybe Amren wasn’t talking about your clothes or your emotions, but maybe she was right anyway. Maybe blue really was your color.

[dre6ming]

On set of Dune II

This part of “The delicate beginning rush” universe- whole series HERE

If you want to be tagged

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warning: smut 18+, blow job, cursing, MINORS PLEASE BE AWARE

Word count: 2k

Plot: you want to surprise Austin on the set of dune 2 and he gets shy about his fight scenes, but that is all forgotten when you work your magic on him.

A/n: this was a request by someone and it was so exciting to write, if you have more, send them to me and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.

With my busy schedule I barely got my assistant to fit this surprise flight to Budapest, so I could visit Austin on set of Dune 2. We haven't seen each other in person in 5 weeks, filming taking all of our time, on opposite sides of the world. It's not easy and it definitely is not pleasant, but we aren't the first nor the last to go through long distance. I have a few days off, time which I should have spend in the studio with Taylor, who's working on her new album, but I could not stay any longer without seeing Aus.

"Y/n so nice to meet you in person, I'm Denis. I have to say, I look forward to some day working with you, you're amazing!" The director says, putting his hand forward for me to shake. I smile kindly at him and take his hand. "Oh that's so beautiful of you to say, I look forward to that day as well, your work is so detailed and ambitious." I giggle, blushing a bit at his compliments. "Now I know this is a surprise for Austin, I did not say anything" he zips his lips closed chuckling "but you do have to sign some papers, just formalities you know." I nod and sign away, promising not to tell anything that I see today to anyone. "He's working, full make up, so brace yourself, it's really, it's a bit scary, come on."

Denis puts his hand on my shoulder and leads the way, as we walk I can start hearing grunting and thudding and all sorts of scenes. I am a bit worried about seeing Austin in full make up and acting like this psychotic character, considering that after the first time seeing him over video in full makeup I had a horrible nightmare. Granted he did call me at 3 am in the morning and I did answer kinda unconsciously, but still. There's big lights centered on two figures in the middle of a blue room, the rest is pretty dimly lit, so my eyes take a moment to adjust. I could recognize Austin's grunts anywhere, having had them in my ear for so long, so my knees feel a bit weak, my skin already hungry to feel him.

As I get used to the light, I see Austin move so athletically, jumping back avoiding hits, then throwing some good punches himself. He's been working very hard in the gym gaining a few pounds of muscle, looking toned like never before. God he looks so weird with this make up, I miss his blonde curly hair, thank god for the other movie he's filming, and this is all a fake bald cap. The other guy he's fighting with, uses a small knife, which I'm pretty sure it's fake but still scary. He swings it, in front of Austin's face and next thing I know he falls to the ground, catching himself mid fall, turning his head to the camera, showing his face full of blood. I stifle a scream, covering my mouth, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I look at everyone, no one seems to notice. Austin flashes a smile, black teeth showing, with trembling hands I push my hair behind my ears and try and act as if I had known this was all an act.

"Cut! Austin man, amazing! Let's get makeup in here and clean it up, I want to shoot it one more time. Let's take five!" Denis says, and suddenly Austin's whole demeanor changes, it's so strange, he looks so scary, but his stance is so Austin. I clear my voice and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, walking forward. Austin, being the sweet guy he is, is shaking hands with his partner. "Hi there stranger, need a tissue? I think you got a bloody nose." As soon as he hears my voice, he turns around, scooping my up in a tight hug, getting fake blood all over me. "Y/n!" Austin says, holding me tight to his chest, his lips kissing my neck, leaving wet splashes of fake blood. "Did you miss me baby?" I ask, patting his back, as my feet touch the ground. He doesn't answer, instead, his hands hold my face and he pulls me in for a kiss. It wet and bitter, even a bit sticky, but it tastes like him still. Austin breathes into the kiss, his tongue, entering my mouth exploring. I lace my hands around his neck and moan into him, forgetting for a minute where we are.

Austin pulls back resting his forehead on mine, breathing softly. "What are you doing here?" He asks a smile evident in his tone. I giggle when he rubs his nose against mine, pulling back to look at me. "Oh fuck, I got fake blood all over you, honey I'm so sorry!" He tries to wipe it with the back of his hand, but I take it away, holding his hand in mine. "It's fine, I'm just glad it's fake, I thought it was real." Austin can see that I'm as honest as they come and his eyes look sympathetic "I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean to worry you!" He says, kissing my forehead head, then grunting annoyed. "I really should stop kissing you now." He says, rubbing his thumb over my forehead, on what I'm assuming is another fake blood stain. "You look so buff and scary, so so hot!" I say biting my lip.

"Really?" Even though all this white makeup I can see the slight blush he has on, turning all shy and avoiding eye contact. "So so hot!" I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, feeling him shiver as my breath fans over his skin. "I can't wait for you to make those pretty noises for me!" I laugh, but my breath gets stuck in my throat as his arms circle around me and he pulls me in, flush to his front. "Baby these leather pants are very very tight and leave no room." He says rubbing his pelvis in mine so I can feel his hard on. My blood starts boiling and I can almost see myself with him on top of me.

"Ask for ten minutes, bathroom break or something." I plead under my breath. Austin looks hesitant, but he still does it anyway. Denis gives his ok and we bolt to his trailer, knowing we don't have much time. I laugh all the way there and he tries to make small talk, telling me all about how filming as been going so far, event this he's already told all this stuff. I listen, but in the back of my head I'm far gone.

We close the door to his trailer and his lips are on mine instantly. His hands hold mine down, so that I won't be able to try and thread my fingers through his nonexistent hair. "Get on the bed!" I say breathless and step back, letting him move past me and onto the bed. "Y/n, my darling, I've missed you so so much." Austin says, sitting on his bed, leaning back a bit, legs spread wide, sporting a noticeable bulge. "I've missed you too." I admit and move in front of him, placing my hand in his hard on, squeezing him through his pants. "Fuck!" He says, throwing his head back. I work his pants open and slide them down enough to free his hard dick, looking red and needy. I lick my lips and get down on my knees. This would be my first time ever doing anything like this, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I've been wanting to try.

"Y/n y/n, no no baby you don't have to, honey come on!" Austin tries to lift me off the ground but I keep my position. "I want to, but I've never done it before, so if I do something wrong, just tell me. Please!" I bat my lashes at him and his hips thrust in the air. "Just, ok, but take it easy ok?" I nod and hold him in my hand. I spit on him and move my hand up and down, using my thumb to touch his head gathering more sleek from there. I can already feel my panties getting wet, so I squeeze my thighs together. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. So far he's been quiet, but now that my warm mouth is on him, he lets out a long breathy moan, fisting the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you are an angel! I love you so much!" He tastes salty, but good in a way. I swirl my tongue around and suck, bopping my head up and down. One of his big hands leaves the sheets and finds purchase in my hair. I moan around him and feel him shiver as a few more cures slip past his lips.

God I've missed him. "Fuck baby, you look so beautiful with your mouth around my cock, do you like it? Like how I fit in your mouth?" I love when Austin talks dirty to me, so I moan, picking up the pace, causing him to fall back on the bed, crying out In pleasure. I finally understand why he loves to do this for me, I think I could watch him like this for ages and not get bored. I feel him twitch in my mouth, so I move my free hand from his thigh, to his balls, squeezing softly. "Shit, fucking hell!" He grunts, pushing his hips a bit in my mouth. "Y/n, baby, I'm not going to last long, if you don't want it in your mouth, I'll tell you when ok?" I nod, but I know want it in my mouth, I've tasted him before, after giving him hand jobs, so now I'm more than eager to get a taste of him.

I sneak my hand under his balls and push slightly on the spot there, which causes Austin to jump off the bed a bit, pushing himself further down my throat making me gag, tears prickle my eyes. I breathe through my nose and relax for him, working on him, pushing on that secret spot. "Fuck, Y/n, baby that feels so good, ahh I'm cu-" he doesn't get to finish what he has to say, as his body goes rigid and he spills himself into my mouth. I stay calm and swallow him whole, enjoying they way it feels. When he's done, I let him out of my mouth, give him a few more strokes, ending with a kiss to his head, smiling at the way he curses.

He lifts me up into his arms and I lay my head in his chest. "Wow, are you sure you've never done this before? Because this must have been the best I've ever had!" Austin says out of breath. I giggle and kiss under his chin. "I like to read, I learn what I read." I explain, sighing when he moves his head to kiss my lips. His hand travels down my body and gives my ass a good squeeze, making me yelp, so he can sneak his tongue into my mouth.

A knock on the door as us parting, him quickly putting his pants on and me, wiping my face with a tissue. "Back on set!" A voice shouts from the other side of the door. "In a minute!" Austin screams back, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. "Can I come watch you some more?" I ask, turning the water on to was the dried fake blood from my face. I look back at Austin and he looks so timid now, scratching the back of his head. "I mean of course baby..."

"Aus..? What's up?" I ask using a towel to dry my face, while I look at him, his eyes wondering the room, avoiding mine. "Well I guess I'm just a tad shy, you know, I have to act pretty barbaric out there and I feel so silly, I'm just I don't know.." he says dropping his head. I get close to him and take his hands in mine, rubbing slow circles on his knuckles. "You don't look silly, you look fierce, and bold and scary, you have nothing to be shy about." I say kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on big boy, you've got work to do, and the faster you finish here, the sooner you get to make love to me!" I wink at him and he chockes on his laughter, blushing a deep red.

Tags: @galaxygirl453

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[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 4<-

Part 5

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fingering, Praising

Word Count: 4.4k

Note: It get’s spicy with Hyunjin. For real, I’m on my knees for that man… Btw thank you for that amazing feedback. I didn’t thought, that this story would get so much support, since I’m new at writing in english. (English is not my first language so yea…) Hope you like this part! Get ready for some filthy smut in the next parts. (If you want to get tagged, write it in the comments)

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

As Felix's deep voice echoed in your bones, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your breathing was heavy while you looked at your movements in the mirror. You had underestimated how complicated and exhausting the choreographies of the boys were

It wasn't the first time you had learned the choreography to one of the Stray Kids' songs. As a dancer, you had been so impressed with the performances that you had spent entire nights watching all of the Dance Practice videos, performances, and even Hyunjin's livestreams.

They were all stunning dancers with so much passion, but especially when Hyunjin danced, you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

Every move was mesmerizing and his charisma on stage drove heat through your veins every time. You didn't know how you would react the first time you would see the kids perform live.

That was exactly what had awakened the longing in you again. So sometimes you had stayed longer, when you were sure that everyone had already left, and had started to learn the choreographies yourself in the practice room or even to think up your own.

Today you also took advantage of the time, as the kids were at a shoot for a planned YouTube series. It was going to be a series of vlogs that would show the work behind the album. The very next week, the first video of it would come out. According to Changbin's last message, they were all going to have dinner together at the end of the day before heading back to the dorm.

He had asked if you wanted to come too, but you had declined with thanks. At least you had the chance to clear your head a little bit and do what you loved.

In the meantime you were already on the fifth or sixth song. At the beginning you had warmed up a little and stretched.

It didn't take long and you were fully in your element again. The movements flowed as if they were automatically engraved in your body and every muscle burned from the effort. It was liberating and the room was more than perfectly equipped with the large mirrors and the expensive music system.

Then you discovered a song in your downloads that Chan had sent you a few days ago. He had written and sung it with Hyunjin, but told you they wouldn't release it.

The first time you heard it, your jaw dropped. You heard it again, and then again. Chans and Hyunjin's voices on "Red Lights", were just sexy. The whole song had so much sex appeal that you couldn't help but imagine the two of them performing it.

It was dangerous, and you cursed Chan for planting those fantasies in your head in the first place.

But when you heard it and moved to it, it felt sensual. Your body adapted itself to the passionate mood and with every swing of your hips you became more and more absorbed in the song.

Completely caught up in your world, you stroked your body with your hands, landing on the floor with a twist, moving my upper body in a wave until you slowly came back to Chan's verse from your knees to your feet, letting your hands slide up your legs until you were standing upright again.

They were moves you had picked up from professional pole dancers in clubs, and you liked the sensuality behind them, to Hyunjin's and Chan's voices.

As Hyunjin's part began, you couldn't help but imagine how you had watched him work out a choreography yesterday.

His shirt had stuck to his body and every time he had let out a gasp or a sigh of exertion, you heart had skipped a beat. Actually, you were supposed to log his ideas and then coordinate them with the choreographer, but you had just tried not to stare too conspicuously when he put on those intense looks while he danced, his hair sticking sweatily to his forehead.

With this image in your mind, the erotic mood took over your body and you also recognized in your face this passion while dancing. It was addictive to surrender to the heat. The movements merged fluidly with each beat.

As the song slowly came to an end, you breathed heavily, brushed your hair out of your sweaty face and pulled your ponytail tighter.

Just as you were about to go to your phone to turn on a new song, you froze in mid-motion.

You blinked, hoping you were just imagining that Hyunjin was leaning against the closed door, watching you in utter silence.

You would have loved to run out screaming immediately, but he was blocking the door, looking outrageously handsome.

His long hair fell in his face and his defined arms were crossed in front of his body. He was wearing a black tank top that was cut wide at the sides, so you could see his pale skin. In addition, gray sweatpants and his rings, from which you did not dare to look up.

Your face must have resembled a tomato by now and your mouth was open in despair.

How long had he been watching you dance without you noticing?

"Hyunjin... You're here? I thought you guys were going out to eat... I didn't think anyone else would come here", you stuttered, wishing yourself far away.

His gaze wandered up and down your body without hesitation. So far he had only seen you in fancy business clothes, like blouses or skirts and now you were standing in front of him sweaty in just a sports bra and sweatpants.

"The others have left. I wanted to work out a little more and do a livestream. And I wasn't expecting that either", he explained as he made a motion in your direction with his hand.

Slowly, you nodded, and at that, your heart raced in such a way that you saw it as a welcome escape to die of a heart attack here and now.

"You heard the song", he said then, coming closer.

"Uh... Yes."

He had seen you dancing erotically to his song. The whole thing was too awkward to be true, and yet his eyes continued to roam over your body with interest.

"I didn't know you could dance like that."

Embarrassed, you wrapped your arms around your torso. You felt at the mercy of his engaging presence wearing only a red sports bra and black jogging pants that were loose at the hips because they were way too wide for you.

"I only dance as a hobby.... I'm sorry if I'm not allowed to be here. I'll let you work out in peace", you gushed as his eyes were now driving you increasingly insane. They were by now glued to the strip of skin on your hip that exposed the waistband of your red string due to the loose fit of your sweatpants. Before you could move, he grabbed you by the upper arm with one hand and held you back gently but firmly. His eyes took on a gleam that reminded you of a cat on the hunt. Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as his fingers rested firmly on your skin.

"You can dance here whenever you want. If anyone tells you otherwise, you can say you have my explicit permission to do so."

You had to tilt your head back a little to look into the much taller man's seductive face.

"Thank you", you murmured, secretly wondering why he didn't just let you go. You desperately needed to scream all the shame, heart punding, and fluttering in your stomach into a pillow.

"How long have you been standing there?", you asked quietly, and that's when one corner of his mouth slowly lifted.

"Only since Red Lights... Unfortunately."

A question burned on your tongue and you were afraid of making a fool of yourself with it, but you were keenly interested in his opinion, since he was the one who inspired you to dance again.

"What did you think? Of my dancing?"

He shifted his weight to the other foot and didn't even try to hide his gaze. As he answered, he inspected every place where your bare skin flashed out.

"It looked strong and... hot. Very sexy."

Overwhelmed, you expelled your breath and were completely taken in by his presence. The smirk turned to a grin and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His cool fingers brushed your heated skin and it began to tingle at that spot.

"We could do the livestream together, if that would be okay with you."

You were silent for a few seconds, looking at him in wonder.

"I don't know if Stay would want to watch that...", you doubted aloud and just the thought of dancing with Hyunjin gave you goosebumps all over your body.

"Stay love you. Have you seen on TikTok how many edits there already are about you? If they find out you can dance that well too, you'll probably have to become an idol too", he said with amusement.

"No thank you. I'd rather leave that to you", you laughed, looking down at yourself uncertainly.

In fact, you had already noticed that most of the fans reacted very positively to you. Since you were constantly in paparazzi pictures with the guys, and sometimes in vlogs, your face was all over TikTok. Stays even took old interviews you had done and made edits out of them.

So maybe they really liked seeing you dance with Hyunjin. You really hoped they would.

"We'll start off really chill.... I'll warm up a bit, we'll chat and if it gets too much for you, you just leave”, he began, already getting his camera and Ipad to set up in front of the mirror.

"Well, we can freestyle a little choreography. It's even more fun with someone else."

You finally nodded and he smiled with satisfaction.

He set everything up, wrote a short message on Bubble and then started the stream. It took only seconds and you already had several thousand viewers.

Hyunjin greeted the fans and explained that today you would dance together. To your surprise, the comments were full of encouragement and kind comments.

Hyunjin gave you a short look that clearly meant something like: Told you so!

Then he started warming up to a slower song. Meanwhile, you were reading comments, chatting and answering simple questions, but one kept jumping out at you.

"Are you dating Hyunjin?"

You had read the question aloud before you realized it and immediately bit your tongue. But before you could embarrass yourself any further, Hyunjin came closer, knelt behind you, and wrapped his arms around your stomach.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he then said:

"Y/N is like family to me and the other members now. We can't be without her anymore."

He left it at that and you tried to put on a neutral expression. His hands stroked your stomach and there the touch was gone.

Of all the music requests, you finally agreed on ‘Under the Influence’ by Chris Brown, as you realised quickly that you both knew the choreography from a video from the YouTube channel 1MILLION Dance Studio. You noticed that most of the requests in the comments were very erotic songs.

As if that's what the fans wanted to see.

When you went through the Choreo in your head, you got hot and cold at the same time. It was a very intimate dance with lots of naughty but strong movements. The fact that Hyunjin actually wanted to do it live with you made you even more nervous.

Then the time came. You briefly went through the choreography again, then he started the song and you began to move.

The sequences of steps were challenging and quite fast, but it was just as much fun.

You saw Hyunjin's focused gaze in the mirror as you moved in sync, trying to control your breathing as he watched you with those hypnotising glance in his eyes.

You got to the part in the song where you stood close to each other. You put your hand to his chest and felt it rise and fall quickly. That's when he lifted your chin with two fingers and the air immediately became electrically charged. Your breath caught as his lips hovered right in front of yours for a blink.

With a knowing grin on his face, you turned away from each other again and now, strangely, you danced even more in unison.

His movements were full of energy yet fluid, pulling you along with him.

The music wrapped your bodies together and you noticed nothing else but his body, the heated atmosphere and the passion that was only fueled with each eye contact.

Finally you landed in front of him, he put an arm on your shoulder and you rolled your hips against his. He moved his with your ass before you jumped apart again. His eyes sparked as you got down a bit with your back to the camera, supported yourself on your thighs and moved your hips.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, began to change the choreography and made it his own. You let him lead you and enjoyed being so completely in tune with him, even though it was the first time you danced together.

Then he pulled you closer by the hips, which was not part of the choreo. Both hands were firmly on your sides and you leaned back against his chest.

So you let your hips circle with his and as he pulled you even closer with his hands. You felt him press your ass firmly against his bulge. You felt his breath on your neck and smelled his sweet cologne, which immediately clouded your mind.

His body pressed so tightly against yours made you skin tingle at every turn. He made the dance even more suggestive and he knew exactly what he did with each move. Your eyes met in the mirror and you were surprised by the intensity in both your faces. Sweat was on your foreheads and as the song ended, you were breathing heavily.

Your eyes locked and the tension between you was almost unbearable.

You would have loved to dance even closer with him and touch him everywhere. But then you both seemed to remember the stream. You sat down in front of the camera again and the comments went completely crazy.

"Hot!"

"That was insane!"

"You guys look incredibly sexy together!"

And many more were written. Hyunjin smiled contentedly to himself and while you took a breath, people were already asking for the next song.

Suddenly, he put his hand on your leg and closed his fingers around your inner thigh. Perplexed, you quickly stared at the stream, but your legs were not visible on the screen. This stirred up the heat in your belly again and you couldn’t think of anything else but Hyunjin's fingers firmly gripping your inner thigh and the cool metal of his rings that you felt even through your sweatpants.

His hands kept wandering up until he almost touched you where you were longing for him. The heat between your thighs got even worse, when he looked at you, like he didn't know, how cruel his teasing was. But behind that innocent expressions he exactly knew, what he did to you.

It was kind of a revenge. You had no idea how hard he already was, when he saw you dancing to his song.

Hyunjin danced a few more songs by himself and you tried not to look too excited. You worked with him and wanted to look professional, even though everything inside you was screaming to pounce on him. You sat on the sofa behind him, playing with the water bottle in your lap as you watched him.

That's when a message lit up on your phone. Hyunjin was starting Thunderous and kept giving you glances over the mirror. Reading Jisung's name, you opened the message.

"We saw the stream. Go check Twitter!"

You quickly scrolled through Twitter and the first videos started popping up. Fans had already uploaded clips of you dancing together.

You didn't dare to look at the footage, skimming over some of the comments and as you did, the heat was back in your cheeks again.

"Y/N is incredibly hot!"

"OMG. So much tension!"

"We need a dance cover of these two!"

"I can't decide which of the two I'd rather be."

"They're like dancing pornstars."

And tons more messages poured in on your timeline. Pictures showed Hyunjin and you pressed closely together, giving each other almost pornographic looks.

Completely lost in thought, you continued to watch him.

Every muscle of his limbs strained against invisible restraints, as soon as the music changed the tempo. The room was by now dimly lit by the lights on the ceiling, as it must already be the middle of the night. They cast a soft shadow of his long, elegant figure on the floor and you bit your lower lip to think clearly again.

The gentle yet sensual movements of his body captivated you. Your eyes fixed on every movement he made as he lost himself in the music until it finally ended.

It wasn't until he gave you a long look over the mirror that snapped you back into reality. A knowing grin was on his lips as you quickly looked at your phone.

He continued to chat for a while with the fans.

You kept reading the comments until you heard Hyunjin saying goodbye to the fans. You waved from the background and that's when you disappeared from the screen.

Hyunjin's breath went rattling and he grabbed a bottle of water, drinking it completely while standing.

"You were amazing!", he then said when his breathing returned back to normal. Distracted by your phone, you slowly stood up and smiled excitedly at him.

That's when he also glanced at his phone and raised his eyebrows.

"That was quick", he muttered, tossing the empty plastic bottle onto the sofa.

"I knew the fans would go crazy for you!", he said after a few minutes of silently scrolling through his messages. When he lifted his eyes, he caught you staring at him and began to grin.

"I wouldn't mind if we did this more often", he added, tossing his phone onto the sofa as well.

"Yeah, that was fun", you replied, and as soon as he took a longer look at you again, the dangerous glint entered his eyes. The tension between you returned in a flash and to dispel the muddled thoughts, you quickly turned to the mirror and stared at your phone.

"Strange... You weren't so shy when you were dancing", he said aloud and you heard his footsteps getting closer. His voice became a shade deeper and you held your breath as you felt his chest brush against your back.

"You know, I can hardly concentrate when you look at me like that when I dance..."

Being alone with him was so much more exhilarating and, more importantly, dangerous, than you could have imagined.

Your breath caught as you felt his fingers on the back of your neck. Like fine brush strokes, he trailed down your spine, and along the way took your phone from you with his other hand and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

Then his fingers were firmly on your hip, pushed the waistband of your string down a bit and gripped your skin tightly. Immediately a gasp escaped you and with a glance in the mirror you saw his soft grin.

"You have no reason to be this shy around me, Princess.”

The firm passion in his grip made you breathe a startled sigh and almost automatically, you grinded your ass against him. With one hand, he held your hip firmly pressed against his so that you could feel his length, which by now was getting harder and harder.

You could even feel its enormous size through the fabric.

The other hand slowly closed around your neck and pushed your head to the side as he began to spread wet kisses on your neck.

Your head was so foggy now that you were unconscious to anything but the heat growing between your legs, and you whimpered softly as he sank his teeth into your soft skin at the crook of your neck. He sucked, licked and bit into the sensitive spots, making you squeeze your thighs together to make the tension a little more bearable.

Your eyelids fluttered as he continued to rub his hard length against your ass, and as he did you felt his breathing become more raspy.

The hand on your neck closed tighter around it and you tried to listen to your mind, but you were already overcome by his charms.

"Your skin tastes even sweeter than I thought", he breathed close to your ear and he slid the strap of your sports bra off your shoulder to continue working your skin with his seductive plush lips.

"Jinnie...", you gasped, overwhelmed, as he pinched your side with one hand before sliding his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

That's when he finally let go of your neck for a second and looked over the mirror into your face. He looked outrageously sexy as he tilted his head slightly and looked at you questioningly.

"What are you doing?", you asked, swallowing hard. You could already see the red bruises he had sucked into your pale skin.

"Ever since I caught you here, dancing to my song, like a fucking stripper, sweaty and in those clothes... I've had to restrain myself from ripping them right off."

The pressure of his hand around your throat tightened, and immediately heat shot to each of your limbs.

"I can't, Hyunjin", you whispered desperately, clinging to his arm that was around your neck. He wasn't going to let you go.

"Why would you think that, princess?"

"I'm your manager. If anyone finds out..."

"So you don't like it?" he asked with a challenging tone.

"I...", that's all you dared to say.

"So you're not as turned on as I am right now?", he murmured in your ear and you forced yourself to shake your head. Even though you couldn't think of something else than his bare skin on yours. You wanted him so bad that it already hurts.

Immediately his full lips twisted into an amused smile.

"Are you sure about this?"

You fingers were still digging firmly into his arm, when he released his hand at your hip and slid it down your pants. He licked his lips as he first gently stroked his fingers over your core and then pressed two fingers firmly against the completely soaked fabric of your thong.

Your knees went weak and you rolled your hips against his with a gasp.

"You're already that wet for me, princess? That's really naughty... Should we do something about that?"

His sweet words continued to twist your mind and as he began to slowly circle his fingers, you buried your face against his neck. He continued to hold your upright in front of him and murmured:

"All you have to do is say something and I'll stop."

At that moment he gave more pressure directly onto your clit. In response, something very close to a moan escaped from your lips. With his hand on your neck, he lifted your chin to make you look at him.

He enjoyed every gasp, every desperate flutter of your eyelids, and in one motion pushed your underwear aside. Before you can prepare, he sinked two of his long fingers inside you and looked proudly at your lips that are parted in shock.

Then he started pumping them inside you, hitting all the right spots immediately. If he wouldn't had pressed you tightly against him, your legs would have dropped as he slid another finger inside you.

"You look so damn beautiful, so desperate with my fingers inside you. I wonder what you'd look like with my dick pounding into your sweet little cunt..."

Your high rolled in so hard you moaned his name several times, and he only quickened the pace of his hand.

"Now I know what Chan meant... You're really hard to resist. You know that all of us want to fuck you since the day you came through that door?"

He was mesmerised by those little cries and sobs you let slip when he's toying with your aching pussy, fingers rubbing at your swollen nub and cooing at you so mockingly as you try to cover your glassy eyes from him.

That was enough to push you over the top. Overwhelmed, you came faster than you ever had in your life and Hyunjin caught your moans with a kiss, which he deepened as he pumped his fingers inside you a few more times. You quickly reached for his face and returned the kiss desperately like you would drown otherwise.

His tongue stroked your lower lip and immediately he pushed it into your mouth. The kiss was messy and dirty, but he had just made you come so hard with just his fingers that your head was completely blank.

When you finally broke away from each other, breathing heavily, he slipped his hand out of your panties, pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean.

"You even taste intoxicating", he said, now gently stroking your hair out of your face.

"You look tired. I'll have a cab come for you."

As if nothing had ever happened, he went over to his phone and contacted a cab for you. Gradually, your sanity returned and you just couldn't believe what had just happened.

Only a short time later, you were sitting in the cab trying to sort out your thoughts.

Hyunjin had given you one last intense kiss before you could leave and you didn't understand anything anymore. His lips on yours felt electrifying and your skin didn’t stop tingling.

First of all the situation with Chan and then this....

Your life could hardly get any crazier.

-> Part 6

————————————��—————————-

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (open):

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[wonuumelody]

“ Boyfriend serie ” ; Dk as your bf

pairing: seventeen Dokyeom x fem!reader genre: fluff, bf thoughts warning(s): use of pet name ౨ৎ Melody's note : writing this just made me fall in love with him again

this boy is so in love with you?? That's crazy

he is soo funny for absolutely no reasons

keep every little gifts you gave to him in his closet and have a whole album with pictures of those

love picking flowers for you when you two are walking in a park for example

you both love wearing matching outfits

is This boy really protective?? Yes. I believe in possessive Dokyeom

he really don't show it but man he can be sOoo jealous

like this one time, you were simply talking with a few friends you had invited at your shared apartment. Everything was going well but he couldn't help but stare at this guy that was a little bit too close to you at his taste.

he had to do something you know? you suddenly felt his hands on your hips, his enormous smile glued to his face (his evil plan worked well tho :))

man is touchy (I mean he is really clingy)

always have a hand on you, on your thigh, your hips, your arms, your shoulders, he just can't help it!!

he's the yapper, you're the listener

calls you "baby" ,"cutie","princess" and "honey"

loves to ramble about his day and his thoughts and what the boys did today and what he want to eat and-

he ALWAYS talks about you when you are not around

he can't help it he miss his gf you know :(

he often get teased a lot by the members for how much he talks about you

he is ready to travel across the whole damn world just to see you

completely dependent of your voice

his favorite music is your laugh

that's why he loves to make you laugh so much :((

even ready to humiliate himself to make you smile when he notice that you are sad

with you, his introvert side is more noticeable. Not that he is not having fun with you but because he feels like he don't have to try hard to be funny or to just make you love him

he know that you love him and the idea of it is really comforting to him

you can spend dates with just you reading, your head resting on his lap and him, playing with your hair

Love those picnic dates you do! Love when you make him some biscuits and cookies like hello? His wife to be made food just for him

ready to send you pictures of every animals he see outside

his smile is your therapy.

౨ৎ Melody's MATERLIST.

[fruitmins]

Agust Dad—Two

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: mentions of vomit and throwing up, pregnancy, one singular cuss word, talk about self hate, hints of abortion

<next part>

note: i have such big plans for this, I just hope my writing comes in clutch. this is a little shorter, the next one will be longer I swear

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops

“What are you doing here?”

You ask, eyes widening when Yoongi shows up in your office one morning, effortlessly closing the door behind himself and stepping up to your desk before you can even finish your sentence.

You should have guessed that you’d have a visit from him, but you thought he was more rational than showing up at your office in broad daylight. He was supposed to be one of the more professional members.

“Is the baby mine?” Yoongi asks point blank, his tone neutral, perhaps even slightly stern.

His question hangs in the air, the answer being obvious – if slightly daunting and it catches you by the throat.

Instead, you continue to remain silent, your gaze fixed on the computer in front of you that faded to black a long while ago. You don’t know how to respond, or even what to say. And you were afraid that answering him would make everything more real. That reality would finally set in and you’d have to face the consequences.

Yoongi sighs and runs his hands through his long black hair frustratedly and decides to ask another question instead.

“How many weeks are you?” He asked this time and you know you can’t give him silence twice, not if you wanted to get him out of your office as fast as possible. You suck in a breath before you speak.

“Six weeks..” You whisper, your voice barely heard. Yoongi thinks back to six weeks ago, and realizes that the timeline added up. That he could possibly the the father.

Yoongi remains quiet for a few moments, as if letting your confirmation finally sink in. As he processes your words, his expression softens, but it’s visible that he was hit with a wave of thoughts. A mixture of emotions seems to dance across his features – uncertainty, fear, maybe even a hint of joy but you can’t find the strength to stare at him for too long.

You look at your computer, having your own wave of conflicting emotions and thoughts wash over you. Disbelief, shock, guilt – all of it, all at once.

But the longer there is a stalemate between the two of you, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere gets.

Just like you had thought. Reality set in the more silent you sat through.

You were pregnant with Min Yoongi’s baby.

“So…” Yoongi starts, breaking the heavy silence once and for all, “what do you plan on doing about it?”

“I plan on having a baby..” You state firmly but your voice is still small and quiet. You still can’t look up at him and stare at the black screen, feeling overwhelmed by the whole thing. You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation with him of all people, in broad daylight.

There’s a long pause after your declaration. Yoongi takes a step back, his expression shifting into one filled with worry and concern. When he speaks his voice is in a whisper and filled with emotions.

“Why?”

You could guess in what direction this conversation is heading, and you don’t like it.

“You know I work in music. People wouldn’t be pleased to know I have a kid, let alone with a co-worker. Not to mention that I’m a public figure. Hell, we’re not even married.” You know it makes sense, you know that this baby would only make problems but something deep inside you urges you to object anyway. You know I’m your heart that you can’t just abandon and give up on this baby.

“I don’t need your help raising it.” You dare to say, your voice firm. You knew the risks of people finding out you were pregnant with Yoongi’s baby. The media would go crazy and you would likely lose your job. Still, you didn’t want to abandon your baby like he did you. Like he would do this child. You didn’t need his help, in fact, you rather he stay away all together.

The silence is stretched out until Yoongi finally speaks, his words measured.

"I see," he says slowly, the words sinking in, "so, you plan on raising the baby by yourself." He clarity’s to himself and you nod, staying firm.

He runs his hands through his hair again, this time with more tension. He thinks through your words and tries to process them, all while struggling to keep calm. He looked visibly stressed about the entire situation so you’re half expecting him to just give you a check for your silence and walk out.

He lets out a long sigh, the tension between you two reaching its breaking point.

"This is my problem too. I'll help you however I can," Yoongi says, his tone shifting into a more level- headed one. “But you can’t just decide what happens to this baby if it’s mine and leave me out. This affects me too.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his choice of words. If it’s he’s. Like you were always so unprofessional and just slept around. He was calling it a problem for God’s sake. Calling you a problem.

“It’s not like you would risk your whole career for a woman you don’t even know.” You say sternly, trying to control your emotions but it’s hard when your stomach and your throat are burning.

“I’ll raise this baby alone just like how you left me alone after we did it. You don’t get to decide anything.” You say and the words sound harsh but you’re just looking out for yourself. You didn’t need Yoongi and all the package he came with.

“So you’ll just have Jin help you though the whole thing.” He says and it earns him a scoff and a glare.

“I didn’t want to get Jin involved he was just there.” You say firmly, feeling your blood boiling even though you know you should calm down. “At least he was there.” You say harshly.

“Why do you keep saying shit like that?” He finally asks clearly getting worked up as he looks at you in disbelief and confusion.

“Because that’s what you did! You lured me in and then left me! I put my entire job in jeopardy and you didn’t even care.” You state, memories of being alone in the hotel, wallowing in self hate over your mistake.

You wanted to tell him how much he made you hate yourself. How much he damaged you on the inside. How he took your pride and dignity with him when he left.

“You made me feel terrible,” your voice cracks slightly as you try to hold down the tears in your throat. “And the worst part is that at the end of the day. It didn’t even affect you. You’re still famous and rich and loved by many.”

Your stomach turns as you think back to when you first heard BTS. When listened to his first album. How excited you were when you got to work with him on a song.

Yoongi's expression is blank, his eyes boring into you from the opposite end of the desk as he contemplates your words. This is indeed new information for him, and it might take some time for him to wrap his mind around.

Something changes in his eyes as he stares at you, his eyes never leaving you. He opens his mouth, looking conflicted as he tries to build a sentence but your to embarrassed and ashamed to even hear what he wants to say.

So before he can say anything you stand up from your desk and rush out, holding your stomach as you feel morning sickness coming. You know that he still has more to say, but you refuse to look back. For now at least, Yoongi will just have to stew in his own conflicted feelings.

You get to the bathroom, tears finally falling from your lids as you bent over the toilet and throw up the little breakfast you had. You felt like a mess all over again. Your head is spinning and your eyes are hazy. You’re so exhausted and tired you think you might faint.

You know that seeing Yoongi again would likely break you completely, and you’re to scared to go back to your office because you don’t know if he is gone or not.

You decided to go home early, stating that you’re sick and all it took was one good look at you and they gave you permission to leave. No doubt you looked a mess, even with a mask on.

Once you're home, you slump down on your bed, exhausted after the events of the day. You’d really need some rest after today's events, not to mention the persistent nausea and fatigue that have been plaguing you. You feel tired but can't seem to fall asleep, thoughts spinning around your head about your pregnancy and what's to come.

When you finally manage to get in a short nap it doesn’t last as long as you needed. You check the clock on your phone and see it's late at night, and that you have a new message from a number you don't recognize.

The text is completely anonymous. From an unsaved number you had never seen before. But despite this, know how exactly who it’s from and it sends you into a spiral.

i’m here now

[fandomnerd9602]

Substitute

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader

Avengers High Series

Dating the most popular young witch on the Avengers High campus has been one of the greatest joys. Special dates on weekends, front row seating when she's doing a cheerleading routine during one of the football games. Though your favorite thing to do is to just sit together on a cool day and listen to the Lungs album of Florence and the Machine.

But you were deemed the second most intelligent student at Avengers High, second only to Tony Stark; some faculty would deem you first due to your responsible nature. This allowed you some unexpected perks. Mr. Fury approached you one morning with an interesting proposal.

"It's just for one day" he assured you, "notes are already written. I just need a substitute for this class."

"And you want me to do?"

He gave you a nod. You looked at which class it was going to be, an idea already forming in your head.

"Sure thing Mr. Fury" you gave a smile and went off to go talk with Wanda. She, having seen the whole exchange, walked over to you rather confused.

"What was that all about?" She asks with a little giggle.

"Nothing" you reassure her, "see you after class?"

Wanda gives a quick little nod before kissing your cheek and heading off to class.

Wanda's first two classes for the day were uneventful. She tried to sneakily text you but she got no response. You weren't there for lunch either, Wanda was finding today rather unusual for you to not be there. But she made her way to her final class of the day, Creative Writing, her favorite class and you weren't there to walk her to it.

She came into the classroom and slumped into her usual seat, not even looking up. Her fingers quickly typed out one last text to you. Where are you?

Look up, was your response. Wanda immediately looked up and gasped.

"Good morning class" you say with a little smirk, "my name is (Y/N) and I'll be filling in for Miss Hill today"

Wanda couldn't stop staring at you. It wasn't hard, you were at the front of the class and you seemed like such a natural being a leader.

"Ms Maximoff" you smirk, "is there something you wish to share with the class? Your mouth will be catching flies"

Natasha couldn't help but giggle from the back. The red head was getting a kick out of the site before her.

"H-Hi" Wanda managed to get out

"Hello to you as well" you smile before going back into a lecture. You give your girlfriend a little wink. Wanda was hardly paying attention during the entire class period.

And then at the end of the class period, the bell rang signalling the end of another school day. Everyone else was quick to leave except for Wanda, she found herself packing her backpack a little slower than usual.

"So this is where you were?" Wanda found herself laughing.

"Mr. Fury needed someone to fill in so i guess it was either me or Tony" you shrug. The two of you share a little laugh.

"I-I thought you were ignoring me" Wanda bit her lip. You walk up and gently comb a few strands of hair from her face.

"Never" you whisper back, "and from what I saw, you missed a few points of my lecture."

"Oh drat" Wanda mockingly responds as you wrap your arms around her waist. "I suppose you'll just have to tutor me after school today"

"I suppose so." you answer back before pulling her into your arms. "I'm free to tutor you now if you'd like."

Wanda giggles as you begin peppering her face with kisses. "I love our study dates" she sighs as she wraps her arms around your neck, kissing you again.

What a surprise indeed.

for @aloneodi @lifespectator @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @cole-el @holiday-house-of-m @fromtimetoinf @supercorpdanbeau @iamnicodemus @tokufighter @natashaswife4125

[sixosix]

END NOTE | THAWED

a little love letter to my readers

to start off, i know that the series is based off the entire reputation album, but i like to think that this whole series was written around call it what you want.

how it started LMFAOOO

This was previously titled ‘melt’ before i was like ‘nah ill make it, like, thaw” and earthtooz went, “Thawed?” little did earth know,, that name would literally take over my docs,,, my tags,,, my ENTIRE account

A message to my readers: From the bottomest bottom of my heart, if you have reached this series until the very end, thank you so, so much for reading. Read that sentence again. And again, until you realize how grateful I truly am as a writer. Thawed is such a big project that I still can’t believe I was able to even start. I genuinely never thought it would garner this much attention, and in all honestly, I was intimidated by it, because I had no idea what I was doing, and I was afraid I would disappoint.

This entire project was intimidating, and I considered so many times to just drop it and end it on chapter five. I struggled so badly to write after I introduced the characters, and I thought: “well, that’s it. I guess it was fun.” I even told my friends that I would do that; and yet 14 chapters later, look at where we are now 😭

Writing it was so exhausting. Working on a series while studying as a student really makes it difficult to remember details about my own story T__T I had to reread Thawed so many times to the point where I don’t even like it anymore.

But I know the reason why I decided to continue it! It sounds so horribly cliche, but it’s true. It’s thanks to all your overwhelming support :( Each ask, comment, reblog—they all fueled me more than you think. All those replies of even incoherent gibberish made me realize that, ‘hey, someone read it and liked it enough to send an ask about it. Maybe I am doing something right!!!!’

some thawed extras for readers who are interested

If you haven’t noticed, the chapter titles aren’t actually accurately about the chapter. Those titles were taken from the songs in the Reputation album, in order. And the chapters are loosely based around them!

reputation is, like, widely known as the edgy album from taylor, but in reality its such a big love letter and i know that other people noticed that, too! i think it’s very fitting to the story of thawed: it’s dark and messy, but at the end of the day, it’s a love story. do you get what i mean hehe. i hope that’s how the series came across…

im sorry if aether doesnt appear in the last chapter :( in my head, mc is coming home. and by then i dont think aether would be in fontaine at all! but rest assured they definitely have met up twice or thrice while in the other regions heehee. Also aether will ofc be there for their weeding. 🙏

i have nothing much else to say aside from thank you for reading! i hope u enjoyed thawed as much as i did

[hxneyfarm]

Batter up!

Chapters 1 & 2 coming to AO3 on November 12, 2023, featuring art by @thatnerdemryn and a playlist by @steves-strapcollection, written for @steddiebang

Summary: All Steve wants for the 2023 baseball season is for the media to leave him alone for once. His reputation is still suffering after he was caught last season in a very compromising position with one of his teammates, and he just wants to lay low and play a good season. A trip to the World Series wouldn't hurt either. A voice from his past has other plans, though.

Eddie hasn't been able to forget what the two of them had together when they were in high school, or his promise to Steve when they parted ways the summer after senior year: Someday I'll write a whole album for you. It's been a decade, and all the pieces are in place for Eddie to finally make good on that promise.

Steve is in for a roller coaster of a season.

Sneak peek under the cut

It’s around sunrise when he wakes with his alarm, properly this time, and he finds seven missed calls from Robin, and another text message from her. 

Call me. This is a PR call, not a bestie call. Get up.

So Steve calls his publicist, Robin Buckley, rather than his best friend Rob.

“Jesus, it’s about damn time,” she says by way of greeting.

“I just woke up, Rob. What do you want?”

“Eddie’s album came out today.”

Steve waits, but Robin doesn’t say anything else. “Okay? Why am I supposed to care? I haven’t spoken to Eddie Munson in almost ten years.”

“I need you to open Spotify and just. Look at the album art.”

“I don’t even remember what his fucking band is even called,” Steve lies, putting Robin on speaker, and then he thumbs his way through his apps to open Spotify. Pulling up the search feature, Steve taps in the name of Eddie’s band and right there, under recently released, is the new Corroded Coffin album.

Batter up!, it’s called. 

On the cover is Eddie Munson, looking just as wild as he did in high school and not a day older than he looked the last time Steve saw him. Eddie’s big, dark eyes are trained on the camera, and he’s got his body turned sideways. He is wearing a generic baseball uniform in blue and gray. He’s got a baseball bat positioned between strong thighs, sticking out from between his legs in an obscene suggestion of an erection. There are nails sticking out of the end of the bat and the album title is embossed on the barrel. Eddie’s hand, big and veiny, is gripped around the taper, a light gray sweatband on his wrist. He is either wearing an athletic cup underneath those fucking pants or he’s sporting some very real half chub action. What the hell.

“Jesus H. Christ. Is that… Robin, is that a number seven on his fucking wristband?” Steve asks flatly.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Steve ignores her. He can’t focus on anything else. Not if he wants to keep his hard-won sanity. “We could always sue him.” “That would mean owning up to a lot,” Robin says carefully. “I listened to it, Steve. The lyrics aren’t subtle.”

[venusgirltarot]

What Would An Album About You Sound Like?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

Pile One

Ahhh okay this is so cute. Im going to try to explain this as best as I can, Pile 1. So this seems like a concept album. The idea of the album (not the sound but idea ya know) reminds me of “Melodrama” by Lorde. I’ll leave a quote here for a better description but it’s like a concept album about a single night

“Melodrama is described as a loose concept album that explores the theme of solitude, in the framework of a single house party with the events and moods that entail it”

The album about you is similar in the sense that it’s a “loose concept album” but it’s about the writer seeing you. It’s like you’re at this party that the songwriter is also at and they’re obsessed from the moment they lay eyes on you. You’re like this beautiful unobtainable being to them and they want to get to know you so bad but they just can’t seem to talk to you. This could also progress to a one night stand that never progresses to more because of a lack of communication to this album is going through the writer meeting you and watching you throughout the night and then goes into their regrets and what they wish they would have said to you the next day, if that makes sense.

They see you at a party and think you’re so beautiful but can’t seem to find the words to tell you that. I keep hearing “I like the way my bedsheets look on your body” from “hello!” By role model. (I believe that’s the right song but lmk if it’s wrong so I can fix it!) and I keep being reminded of this musician on TikTok “Chappell Roan” and their song “Red Wine Supernova” I think that’s similar to what this album would sound like and it also fits the aesthetic. I highly recommend you listen to this song because it fits your album so perfectly. I tried to find a lyric that resonates the best to include but they all work so well that I couldn’t choose.

Despite this entire album being about only you and just one night leading into the next morning, it’s still so diverse (I hope that makes sense) like you’d think there’s only so many songs you could write about a 12ish hour time frame and one person but this writer has endless things to say about you and the night you met them. I could see one song having a feature and it’s later in the album somewhere between tracks 7-12 or so. The aesthetic of the album is very neon lights, the dance floor on prom night after everything has died down and people are starting to go home, slow, melodramatic and just really pretty. Again, I highly recommend you check out “Red Wine Supernova” because it fits so well.

Track list:

1. Pretty

2. Blooming

3. missing you

4. Shinning Eyes

5. Dying Slow

6. Party Streamers

7. Old Fashioned (Feat. Another Artist)

8. Starlight

9. Nova’s Surprise

10. Sunset

11. morning after

12. You

Pile Two

Pile two, your album sounds like one written by Hozier, Noah Kahan or The Lumineers. It reminds me a lot of “Angela” by The Lumineers. Specifically the lyric “Angela, spent your whole life running away” and “vacancy, hotel room, lost in me, lost in you” it also reminds me of Ethel Cain in the sense that it’s a concept album about running away and starting a new life (but not as dark as ethel’s and with a much better outcome than she got. I heard “success story” it’s about leaving behind a difficult past and moving forward. There’s hope for the future in these songs, remembrance of the past and healing trauma. It’s a beautiful album with a good balance of different emotions. I could see this album coming with a short film or a series of music videos that piece together to tell a store. Similar to “III” by the Lumineers.

I keep hearing a few snippets from the deluxe version of “Stick Season” (that will be out June 9th 👀) like “Medicate meditate swear your soul to Jesus / Throw a punch fall in love give yourself a reason” or “we ain’t angry at you love, you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost” it’s such a beautiful album with so much soul and emotion.

I could see this album getting an acoustic live version that artists do sometimes like “Album, live from Wherever” you know? This album has very unique and catchy lyrics that stick with people, the type of lyrics people take and sell on things in their Etsy shop or use as a quote in their yearbook or put in their instagram bio. It almost feels like poetry. I also heard “escapism” this is the type of music that paints a picture and takes you somewhere else. This album will kind of chronologically tell a story about you moving forward and healing from trauma and finding a peaceful ending. Ending with a song like “Angelia”

Track list

1. movement

2. Adelaide’s Interlude

3. mother

4. farmhouse

5. leave me behind

6. baby blue

7. mustang

8. you’re gonna go far

9. more than this

10. peace

11. at your own pace

12. growing pains

13. at last

Pile Three

I feel like this album has a soft rock sort of sound? Like hozier with a rockier edge if that makes sense? It reminds me of the way hozier sings about love. He sings about a very deep and impactful love and his writing his like poetry and I think that’s what an album about you would sound like. I think this album could be about the writer/musician fighting feelings for you because they’re focused on career or are just concerned about the outcome of the relationship. They might have a fear of falling or something.

However, the last card I pulled was the 10 of cups so the outcome is very good. I feel like this album is coming from a reflective place like this is after yourself and your spouse have settled down and had kids or pets or whatever you would like and your partner is looking back at your relationship from the very beginning up until now and writing about it.

I keep hearing “I’m in love with an emo girl” I don’t think this is what the album will sound like but maybe that’s your aesthetic/vibe? This might just be conformation for you. I also keep hearing that Shania Twain song “you’re still the one” this is the kind of album that fans would dissect like narrow down the time you met your person and talk about every lyric and how that lyric relates to you and your relationship etc. this album talks about how devoted and in love with you your person is but also talks about the (I heard “trials and tribulations”) it took for you two to get there so it may include religious reference. Like religion by Lana Del Rey or Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift where there’s this slight aspect of religion/devotion to your partner.

You hear a lot about how you have to actively choose your partner everyday to make a long term relationship work and this album would definitely delve into that a little. It could also be produced by you and your partner’s mutual friends or people who have been there since the beginning or very early in in your relationship. I think this would be a longer album and there’s definitely 18+ songs on there 👀

Track list

1. October

2. Cosmic

3. Full Moon

4. Bourbon Street

5. She’s All Over Me

6. Starla

7. The Empress

8. Diamond Eyes

9. Find More of Me

10. Dreamscape

11. Escapades

12. Midnight

13. You’re All I Need

14. Mirror

15. Apartment 32

16. Deep End

17. Eternity