#back to the EDM playlist!

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: August 28

“You Were Right” by ILLENIUM, Wooli, and Grabbitz

[wakaanbaby]

Thank you @trippyskippy for the tag ☺️🫶🏻

10 songs from your playlist shuffled and tag 10 mutuals (I’m just using my liked playlist on Spotify💚)

1. Stone Monkey - Toad face & Of The Trees

2. Out of Space (Rude. Remix)

3. Sweet & Sour - Buku & Subdocta

4. Lead Me Back - San Holo

5. You First (Re: Remi Wolf) - Paramore

6. Alone - Trevor Daniel

7. Mitosis - Blanke & Deathpact

8. Figured U Out -CharlesTheFirst

9. Tractor Beam - Subtronics

10. Lattice - Minnesota

(Don’t feel pressured to do this if you don’t want ☺️)

@stonedsadgirl-forever @getinmybedniall @theloniousmung @cosmicglowboy

[tortoise-teapot]

i swear i listen to other genres but i'm just going to keep making high brow looking playlists with electronic music until ppl start to take it seriously

[deceptionstudiosofficial]

Self-Inflicted is live on YouTube!

[emoangel44]

i think im gonna try 2 make a silver playlist

[killa-trav]

listening to edm to try and fucking wake me up so i can finish this essay off

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｓｗｅｅｔｅｓｔ Ｐｉｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: sex worker!mingyu x chubby!fem!sex worker!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Summary: While spending the weekend at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a risky late night comment of yours draws the attention of your crush who happens to be in the same city and wants to see if you're all talk or about that action.

♡ Warnings: you're both spicy content creators, drinking, unprotected sex, Gyu's dick is kinda really huge, size kink for sure, stretching, riding, rough sex, doggystyle, clit play, ass slapping, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, dirty talk, switch Gyu/reader

♡ A/N: I usually put a sweet artistic statement in this space but I don't have a sweet artistic statement. I have a hot girl playlist and Mingyu's existence which is exactly how we ended up here. It's Mingyu, for the love of goddess, can you blame me?

This was never where you thought you’d end up. When you joked with your best friend, a successful OnlyFans girl, about starting one if your job kept working your nerves you hadn’t imagined actually doing it. Yet here you are, 8 months after that tipsy girl’s night, with a hefty following on social media and enough subscribers to never have to set foot in that job ever again. 

Like any other job it has its ups and downs but having your best friend there to help you navigate it early on makes it feel like lightwork now. Plus it’s so easy to ignore your haters when your bank account’s as stacked as it is.

For the first time in your life it’s optional to check pricetags, you can literally have whatever you want. Some things you don’t even have to pay for, they’re just dropped in your lap simply because you are who you are. 

That’s precisely how you scored yourself a weekend at this million dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. You’d passively mentioned during a custom video for one of your fans how hot you found it that he owned so much property.

“I’ve never played with my pussy in a mansion before” you pouted cutely, a vibrator whirling away inside you on its lowest setting. It wasn’t hint dropping as much as you wanted to stroke his ego but he took it as a chance to impress you, offering you a getaway at one of his places while he went on vacation for business. 

You’d be doing him a favor, he insisted, because he hated to leave the place empty for so long. The ego boost was more than enough compensation on his part that he didn’t feel like you owed him anything. Good because as a rule you do not fuck customers. You don’t even do content with other people in your industry. Everything’s solo. Always.

“Show us the top but off” you giggle, reading through the comments on your Instagram live. You do a quick spin, showing off your barely there bikini top. “There it is but it’s not coming off. You guys are gonna get me banned.” 

You only arrived a few hours ago and, exhausted from travel, decided that you’d rather spend the night in the jacuzzi out back than venture out to some crowded bar. This weekend is about relaxation after all and what’s more relaxing than sipping champagne in this warm bubbling water under the starry night sky?

It began to feel a little lonely though, you’re so used to having your best friend with you on these trips, so you decided to prop your phone up on the edge of the hottub and go live for a little bit. 

Reading through the comments, you get caught up in conversation about a million random topics. There’s suggestions for the best restaurants in LA, debates over if aliens are real or not, and even a quick KPop Smash or Pass game before someone brings you to a topic that has your heart thumping harder than an EDM festival.

Your rule on sleeping with other creators is a hard “No”, this everyone already knows, but when it comes to one man in particular that rule’s nonexistent. 

100_karat_xo Gyu saw your retweet 👀 youngxkwonskitty He’s coming over here aaaaaah!!!

You nearly choke on your next sip of champagne, watching the chat go wild as the memory of a recent drunken retweet hits you like a wrecking ball.

Your introduction to who Kim Mingyu was had been innocent enough. You were scrolling your feed one night and saw a video of a bunch of guys dancing. They were just fucking around really but they were genuinely talented and hot as hell so you had to do a little independent research to figure out who they were. 

Mingyu was the one who caught your eye the most with his beautifully tanned skin and a face so gorgeous it hurts to look at. It only worsened the situation when you stumbled upon his spicy account and found out he had the deadly combo of a body Greek gods would envy and a cock that’d have you walking funny for days. Who needs to walk straight anyway? You followed him on everything immediately, nearly died when he followed you back, and it’s been non stop flirting since. 

The two of you even ran into each other at a few parties where things would almost get hot and heavy but never ventured beyond a cute little makeout session. It’s painfully obvious both of you want something more though.

The most recent evidence came when Mingyu posted a video of himself seated in a chair facing a mirror wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. No shirt, nothing under the pants, just that muscular sunkissed chest and a mouthwatering dick print. 

You were weak in the knees from the sight of that alone but when his hand started moving in his lap, his palm smoothing over the long, thick print, you went feral. Mingyu’s caption asked, ���Who does this belong to?” and the shots of Soju in your system that night had you responding, “Me!” before you could think better of it. That was a week ago and you must’ve pushed it to the back of your mind because you haven’t thought about it since. But Mingyu has. 

“Coming over here? What do you mean?” you ask, slinking down into the water as if it’ll somehow make you invisible. You get your answer immediately when a familiar name appears in the chat. 

dongangu.daddy Hey beautiful

“Mingyu! Stop! What are you doing here?” you squeal, a hand thrown over your mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile his arrival brings to your face. As if there’s a way to conceal how giddy you are over this man. Two words from him and your whole aura changes. You were glowing before but now you’re radioactive.

jeonghanssimp95 my worlds collide omfg _horanghaeheaux_ Can you both marry me?

dongangu.daddy has requested to join

Your eyes widen at Mingyu’s request, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. It’s not that you don’t want to see him. You’d look at that face every day if you could—beside you, on top of you, under you—but you’re mortified of swooning over him in front of this many people. 

Finally deciding that your retweet did all it could do to expose you for being down bad for Mingyu, you dry your hands on a nearby towel and accept his request. Another screen pops up below yours. There’s some darkness at first, a few seconds of shuffling, and then Mingyu’s displayed in all of his bare chested glory. 

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he teases, shifting to a more comfortable position in bed. Of course he had to be shirtless. Of course he had to be in bed. Fuck your sanity. 

Your brain has to shake off a five second delay before you can answer. “You just got on and already you’re picking on me. I’m about to revoke your privileges, sir.”

Mingyu laughs off your comment, confident that you’re bluffing. You are. “No, don’t do that. I’m sorry” he pouts, raking his fingers through his short dark hair, “I just expected you to be happier to see me.”

“I am happy to see you but you can’t come on my live talking your shit.”

“I thought you liked it when I talk my shit” he smiles, recalling all of the X rated texts you’ve exchanged over the past few months. 

You shrug, mindlessly twirling your hair, “Talking is cute buuut actions are better.” 

The true meaning of “action” is clear for you both. Mingyu’s wanted action with you from day one, spam liking your posts the moment he saw that you followed him. You had the prettiest face, the sweetest smile, and your body was so soft and plush he couldn’t stop fantasizing about getting his hands on you. You were even more irresistible in person and that knowledge has had him on a mission to make you his ever since. A mission he’s not willing to give up on easily.

“Action? I can do that. I heard you’re in LA” he says, the white sheet around him falling away as he sits up in bed, “I am too. If you aren’t busy, maybe we could see each other tonight.”

“Oh, y-you wanna see me? And do what?” you stutter, going in for another nervous sip only to find that the glass is empty. You were not prepared to be this thirsty for a drink or for him. 

Mingyu tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking down to take in what he can of your figure peeking out from the water. His heart begins to race, his cock stiffening at the way your lush breasts bob above the surface, droplets of water decorating your cleavage like diamonds. 

“You tell me, babe. What do you wanna do?” 

His question soaks your bikini bottoms with a new type of moisture, your pulse already racing. What do you wanna do? With Kim Mingyu? What don’t you wanna do? 

“Gyu, aaah, fuck. It’s so…so…mmm” you whine, sinking lower onto Mingyu’s cock.

Your fingers trace his abs, your pink and blue ombre acrylics nicking his skin as your pussy relaxes to take the next inch of his cock. You’d seen it in pictures, even felt his bulge once or twice in person, but having him inside of you? Nothing could’ve prepared you for this stretch or for how full you’d feel after only a few inches. There’s still a couple more to go and you’re already shaking like you’re ready to cum. 

“Keep going, baby. You’re taking it so well” he praises, hands cradling your hips to help you take him at your own pace.

He isn’t in a rush to fuck you. That was never an intention of his. Mingyu’s more than pleased to lay here with you in bed, your fluffy thighs snug around his waist, and enjoy the view from below. And what a view it is. The faces you make are too cute for words. They make him want to hold you close and protect you from the rest of the world. At the same time, they’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. And, coupled with those little whines of yours, they give him the ravenous urge to fuck your brains out. Every last cell. 

“Don’t wanna wait anymore” you moan, leaning back with your arms behind you, palms resting on his legs. “I need it all.” 

He smooths his hands down your thighs and back up again, “Anything for you.” 

One thrust of his hips and you’re seeing stars. Mouth wide open. Eyes watering. It’s the fullest you’ve ever felt and you can only piece together a string of broken moans as your body adjusts to the new sensation. 

Mingyu smiles up at you, beaming with pride at what he’s done to you. “Too much for you?” he teases, his thumb stroking a solitary tear away from your cheek. 

You shake your head, never the kind of girl to reject a challenge. Breathing in deep, you steady yourself, raising your hips and slowly lowering them back down in a motion that has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“Oh god, fuck” he groans not just at how perfectly your walls hug him and not just at you being wet enough to make that hottub outside look like the desert. Every move you make hits the perfect spot, your body titled at the exact angle required to make him feel like you’re stealing his soul straight from his body.

Keeping your pace, you lean forward and lick your way up his abs, sprinkling kisses across his chest. Mingyu can pretend that it doesn’t tickle in a way he likes much more than he thought he would but his body’s a dead giveaway. His muscles contract beneath your kisses, his length pulsing against your walls. You can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest. 

“Too much for you?” you taunt, smiling up at him, your walls purposefully clenching even tighter around his cock. 

Mingyu bites his lip, staring down at you like a meal he’s prepared to devour. The fire in his eyes makes your heart jump. Teasing him back has consequences and you can tell you’re about to suffer them. 

“Nah, I want more” he growls and two strong arms close around your body, one at your back and the other at your waist. Keeping you flush against his chest, he spreads his legs and buries himself even deeper into your needy core. If you thought you were seeing stars before, there's galaxies now. 

Mingyu holds you like he loves you, cradling you gently while he fucks you like he hates you, and with your arms pinned to your sides all you can do is take it. Waves of heat wash over your figure, the tingling of your nipples brushing his chest sending sparks through your system. There’s no talking back now, only fragments of his name rolling from your tongue. 

“M-min…” you whine, crumbling as the thick head of his cock bumps your sweet spot. You can feel his warm precum leaking into you, mixing with your arousal to make every movement all the smoother. 

“M-min” he coos, reaching a hand up to brush away the hair sticking to your pretty face, “Having a hard time talking back, sweetheart?”

Your eyes are hypnotizing on a regular day but he must admit that there’s something special about seeing them so dazed and glossed over all for him. He grabs the back of your neck with just the right amount of pressure, lifting you away from him enough that he shifts angles inside of you. It’s such a small change in position but it’s more than enough to have you squirming, mindlessly rocking your hips against his. 

“I didn’t know I had such a greedy girl on my hands” he says, tracing your jaw with feathery kisses. In a split second the room’s spinning on its head and you find yourself face down on the sheets with your arms held behind your back.

Mingyu slaps your ass and the sting gets you up on shaky knees. He doesn’t even need to tell you what he wants because you want it too. Teasing his cock at your entrance, he takes his time savoring the way that your juices drip all over him, your pussy already clenching in anticipation.

He runs the head along your slit, dipping it up to roll across that perky little clit of yours. He keeps you like this so long you’re drooling onto the pillow, clenching and dripping down his length and he isn’t even inside of you yet. 

Not one to be outdone, you drop your hips down, slipping him right up to your entrance. You sink back on him an inch or so, popping his head right inside of you. You hear a sharp inhale and feel his body give out on him for a second. You move your hips in a circular motion, teasing him with the sight of you stretching yourself open with his cock.

“I thought you said you wanted more” you giggle, shaking your ass in the cutest way. 

Mingyu slaps it again, gripping your hips, “So she can still speak. We gotta change that.”

He slams into you and you cry out at the force of his thrust. The aftershock has your body humming but there’s no time to soak it in. Mingyu doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up even a little bit. He’s feral for you. Already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Keeping your wrists pinned, he reaches around to massage your clit, and your knees almost give out. He catches you before you can collapse, keeping you right where he wants you. Gripping the pillow, you bite down hard, screaming as loud as you want into the soft cotton while he deep strokes you to the brink of insanity. 

It’s not long before a familiar feeling’s tugging at your stomach. You’re like a bottle of champagne, all shaken up and ready to pop. Mingyu rubs your bud faster, kissing the small of your back, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Hmm?”

Your body answers before your words can, jiggling in all the right places while you cum harder than you ever have. The clench and release of your walls as you gush down your own thighs drags him closer to his own high but he’s not ready yet. He has to keep thrusting into you, playing with your pussy until your body’s spent. 

For a moment it seems as if he’s achieved his goal. Reeling from your high, your whole body gives into the mattress and you’re stuck there, letting out the sweetest whines with his cock still inside of you. But that moment’s fleeting and in a few seconds you’re back up on your knees, whipping around to take his cock into your mouth. 

You don’t hesitate to take all of it into your mouth, not gagging once as you rub it against the back of your throat. If the gasps and moans coming from overhead are any indication, your tongue wrapped around his cock has him wrapped around your finger. You feel around blindly until you find his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Your tongue traces the veins of his shaft, feeling the blood rush to the head throbbing at the back of your throat. 

The taste of your mixed arousal floods your senses as it drips from the corners of your perfectly pursed lips. You sneak a peek up at him. That gorgeous face. Those muscles dripping with sweat. His body jerks and you easily pick up on the signs, slipping him out of your mouth at the perfect time for him to cum all over your tongue and those plush, puffy lips. You take him into your hands, stroking him until you’ve gotten every last drop. Licking your lips clean, you kiss the tip and lay back in bed, bringing him down with you.

Mingyu cozies his head up to your belly, his chest heaving for air, “Where’d you learn to do it like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just gifted” you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair. 

“Well, whatever you did, just know it’s yours now” he says, propping his chin up to gaze at you. 

“Mine? What’s mine?”

“I asked who this belonged to.  You said it’s yours. Unless you don’t want it…”

“No! No! No!” you scramble, your cheeks warming up again, “It’s mine! It’s mine! I’ll take it.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, using his last bit of energy to crawl on top of you, “You’ll take it again? So soon?”

He spreads your legs, dipping his fingers between your legs and you’re still dripping wet. He presses up against you and you giggle feeling how hard he still is.

“You did say it’s mine” you smile, legs wrapping around his waist, “So give it to me.”

[boopshoops]

C'mon now, we don't HAVE to stick to one set genre. Music is about self expression!~ ...Though I wouldn't be against one-upping some competition.

Yuu Shi is strutting on down to debut as a vocalist and backup dancer for GLOWCHAIN! With eccentric flare and powerful vocals, she's here to push the boundaries of EDM and pop to new heights. After all, if it isn't experimental, it isn't her.

Part 2

Ragu Music Week is a fanevent by @raguiras!!! :D

Set to home screen: Mic check, one two!~

Groovification: ???

Home transition 1: Day three of asking Allen to let me join Hazard, no such luck as of yet. Is this how Epel feels about Savanaclaw? Maybe a bribe would work...

Home transition 2: Ohh I just love this boa! It's so cute and fluffy! Come here and touch it, it's so soft that I could use it as a pillow.

Home transition 3: No need to worry much about your performances, hon, I'll make sure to outperform you regardless! You can take that as a promise and a threat.

Home transition/Groovification: ???

Tap home 1: You think I'm getting a bit competitive over this? Hmm, Maybe, maybe. Well, this is finally my chance to show off my prowess! I didn't go to performing arts school for nothing.

Tap home 2: I'm able to keep up with Vil fine enough, but after the chaos that was VDC, I'm beginning to feel bad for my other group members... but not bad enough! Let's go again!

Tap home 3: No, no, no- That's not it. Your movements aren't big enough! You need to gesture enough for the whole crowd to see. Remember, the people in the back row want a show too. You need to hold out your arms like so!

Tap home 4: As much as I enjoy an organized, set performance, I much prefer to go with the flow. I want to get the whole audience involved in ways you haven't seen before, you know? Make it feel more authentic? It'll leave a lasting impression of me in their minds!... Oh, and the rest of GLOWCHAIN, of course.

Tap home 5: Hahaha! What, am I towering over you in these heels? Should I kneel down, is that what you'd like? What? I'm just teasing!

Tap home/Groovification: ???

Home after login: As much as I love this outfit, I could do with a little less sparkle... When the stage lights hit me and the other members, I can't help but feel like a damn disco ball. What do you think?

ALRIGHT RAMBLING TIME. Yuu shi is having a hard time abandoning her instruments for GLOWCHAIN. Therefore she takes every chance she can to be petty about it and be another headache for vil (sorry bbg). She is very jealous of Hazard/Riff due to this- but she's not letting that stop her from trying to outperform other groups or even vil himself.

As for music- I did a lot of research into KPOP i never had before KJGDSBKGJSD and I think mamamoos vibe fits Yuu Shi very well!

also I listened to the inspiration playlist, saw lady gaga, and blacked out

Charli XCX fits her more experimental style too- its her way of pushing the boundaries of the genre

KIMPETRASKIMPETRASKIMPETRAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As for dancing- ive had Royal Family brain rot lately. THEY ARE SO TALENTED AAAAAAAAAAAAA. Theyre flowy, energetic, fast paced moves fit yuu shi very well imo!!! Though she would definitely need a lot more practiced to be as organized as them sob. 3:25 in particular drives me insane:

OK RAMBLING OVER TAG TIME

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3

@thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @the-trinket-witch @techno-danger @scint1llat3

@beneathsakurashade @twsted-canvas @qsoap @prince-kallisto

[inkbybambi]

⚜️ pornstar!ghost who's so, so in love with you —

words: 3.8k tags: smut, creampie, pet names (good girl, love, darling, etc), throat holding, no use of y/n, fem!reader, ghost and reader are so in love with each other, biting/marking, mentions of sex work. notes: inspired by @ghosts-cyphera 's pornstar!ghost. thank you so, so much for creating him and for letting me bite him and chew him like a squeaky toy. please read the original here and give it lots of love! here is the playlist i made while writing — a mixture of soft and sweet and filthy and everything in between. minors dni, my blog is 18+.

in the muffled quiet of the bathroom, you take a deep breath. your heart beats in time with the rhythmic thumping of the bass that reverberates throughout the flat. that same steady beat of edm songs has been on repeat since you arrived at the party, and your blood hums with the vibrations. you love parties; the drinks, the snacks, the absolute unhinged bullshit that can only be achieved by those in front and behind the camera.

you’re surprised there hasn’t been a noise complaint.

you slip from the bathroom, perhaps just a little tipsy, the warmth of the drinks and the atmosphere thread through your blood like fire, the colored flashing lights casting everything in a multi-colored glow. you move through the crowd to find the one person who means more than the entire world and —

he’s sitting on the couch, pretending to listen to one of the newer talents; she’s a touch too close, fingers reaching out to graze his forearm. he doesn’t even blink twice before he’s pulling his arm away, pretending to adjust his watch as his eyes sweep the room.

as soon as his gaze lands on you, he straightens up, leaning forward in anticipation. the other girl looks put off but neither of you pay her any mind as you make your way to him, crawling onto the couch where he’s (been) waiting for you.

you nestle into his side, taking the red, plastic cup you trusted him with when you went to the bathroom. you take a small sip.

“this isn’t my drink,” you tell him.

“you’re right.”

you pout at him, eyes glittering with the lights.

he looks at you expectedly, pointedly looking at the cup and giving you that look. the one he gives you whenever he wants you to do something, and you always listen.

you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out at him, before dutifully drinking the water that he’s so graciously filled your cup with instead of whatever fruity and far-too-strong cocktail the host had conjured up. he snorts, rolling his eyes fondly as he slings an arm across the back of the couch.

when half the cup is gone, you look back at him, doe-eyes big and glassy, the need for praise and approval simmering under the surface. even in the low light of the room, you see how his eyes soften as he takes you in. his hand comes up to cup your face, cradling it. you close your eyes, nuzzling into his palm as you enjoy the moment of calm. as his thumb gently wipes under your eye, your eyes flutter back open to focus on him, and he tilts his head as he assesses you.

this moment is just for you two. even in a room full of people, you’re unable to focus on anything but him.

he glances at his wrist to check his watch — the one you gave him for his birthday last year and the one that’s been on his wrist ever since, not even taking it off to film unless absolutely necessary.

(and if he got you a bracelet that matched his watch as close as possible for your birthday? neither of you mention it, but you know.)

ghost’s never been one for social niceties —preferring to keep to himself — and you know you haven’t been here too terribly long, only one drink deep, but both of you have a rare day off together and he’d rather be alone with you for as long as possible than at this last minute thrown together “party” by a few colleagues.

he leans in close to graze his covered mouth against your jaw — he never takes off the skull mask, except when he’s alone with you.

("it's part of my charm," he claims, grin stretching across his lips, getting ready for his first shoot of the day. you bite back an amused smile, sitting in front of him and fussing until he sits still so you can paint on his eye black.)

“i think it’s time i took you home, princess.”

and christ, his voice.

it's well known you’re closer than most, so it’s not terribly surprising when you arrive and leave together and generally stick to each other like glue.

you press your lips right against the sensitive skin behind his ear, brushing against the fabric, voice masked by the music but still keeping it low enough so only he hears.

“then take me home, simon.”

his eyes flash dangerously, taking your cup and abandoning it on the coffee table. his large hand dwarfs your own as he drags you off the couch.

you didn’t say hello to anyone in particular when you arrived and you don’t stop to let anyone know you're leaving. you’re too focused on his thumb running across the ridge of your knuckles, the way he laces your fingers together, how you two fit so well together.

if there was a red string tied to your pinky, you know it would lead you right to him.

the ride back to your flat is spent with his hand on your thigh, hot and possessive like a brand.

there's something different about tonight. ghost's touch lingers, as if he doesn't want to be without you for even a second, and you're drawn to him like a moth to flame, helpless to do anything but get as close as you can, hoping you won't burn and turn to ash.

you know exactly where the night is leading when he pulls you to your bedroom, the soft glow of your bedside lamp casting everything in a halo of warm, dim light.

ghost turns to you, hands on your hips, pulling you closer. you fingers tease the edge of his mask, hooking under the familiar fabric and starting to drag up. you pause as his lips come to view, watching him carefully.

glassy eyes meet yours and you forget to breathe for a moment. you want to capture the warmth swirling in his eyes, keep it close on the days that are dark and dreary, on the days that only he makes better.

you pull the rest of the covering off, his hair slightly ruffled, haloed by the light.

a delicate smile graces your lips, reaching a hand up to run your fingers along his jaw — a motion so familiar, a motion repeated in front of cameras and bright lights and others watching. he's sharp lines and features carved from marble but he's so soft, a comfort you can't name when you're with him.

he looks like an angel, heaven-sent.

"whatcha you thinkin', pretty girl?" he asks, voice low, accent thick, capturing your wandering fingers and pressing a kiss to your inner wrist, right beneath your bracelet.

you don't say anything, continuing to admire him, biting your lip. you're afraid to speak. afraid to give a name to these emotions that have settled into your bones and blood, seared into you.

for now, you keep those words locked in your heart, protected by ribs and flesh and walls that he so carefully picks apart with his teeth and tongue and fingers.

you shake your head instead of answering him, a gentle smile gracing your lips, threading your fingers through his hair. it's fluffy and a bit on the long side. he showered as soon as he was off work. he never wants others lingering on his skin.

you tip up on your toes enough to capture his lips with yours, biting at his bottom lip.

he presses you up against the wall, mouth hot and wet on yours. he licks deep into your mouth, fingers lacing in your hair. you grip the front of his shirt, mewling into his mouth as he kisses you like he'll never get to again.

some of your lipstick is smeared on his lips when he pulls away, eyes black. you shiver under his stare.

you press a tantalizing kiss to his jaw, teeth nipping.

"want to film it?" a mischievous smile paints your lips, hands raking lower to hook into the hem of his shirt.

both you and ghost have quite a collection of videos and pictures of you two, hidden behind locked albums and passwords. it's a testament of trust — one that's been carefully built and protected, tucked away where only you two know.

"not this time," he replies, voice soft, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. he cups your jaw gently, wiping away smudged mascara. "this is just for you n' me."

you swallow thickly, choking down words threatening to spill from you. the temptation to say something lingers on your tongue, pressing behind your teeth, daring you to take a bite.

the kiss you press to his lips is far softer than anything, heat just below the surface.

ghost doesn't make a habit of kissing those he's filming with. a bite or two, something more vicious and rough — but with you? sometimes he'll kiss you like you're glass, afraid of marring you, breaking you. other times, it's all heat and liquid fire, consuming you and all you think about for days after.

he'd wake up every day kissing you if he could.

your clothes are a mess on the floor, not that you particularly care right now.

not with the way ghost is pressing his weight down on you so deliciously, hot and heavy, devouring you. he cages you between his thick forearms, barely giving you room to breathe, biting and nipping and licking deep into your mouth until your lips are shiny and swollen, pupils blown so wide, they're practically black.

"wish i could be the only one to see you like this," he pants against the hinge of your jaw, dragging teeth and tongue down your body.

the urge to bite and bruise and mark clouds his mind, wanting nothing more than to bury his teeth into the supple flesh of your thigh, until the imprint of his teeth lasts for days.

surprisingly soft hands part your thighs, baring your glistening desire to his burning gaze.

but that's not what he's looking at.

he's unable to look away from the temporary tattoo that's fading on your skin. it's been washed away from your time on set — spit and water and release coating your skin — but it's unmistakable.

a ghost.

"what's this?" he asks, thumb stroking over the faded lines of the tattoo, breathless.

you rise up on your elbows, desire thick through your veins. you don't have to look to know what he's asking about. but you look anyways, mesmerized by his thumb grazing over your skin.

"the girls and i had some on set," you begin, voice soft. "we were filming in a bath so we figured why not, y'know?"

he looks up from between your legs, predatory and possessive.

you lick your bottom lip, feeling bold.

"thought it might be cute to have you with me," you say, a whispered confession.

ghost looks like he's repenting for his sins, kneeling between you legs. you thread your fingers through his hair, arching your hips up, failing to bite back the whine rising in your throat, needing him impossibly closer.

“oh, love.” his voice is rough, wrecked, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing right along the edge of where the ghost fades. “let’s give you something a little more permanent, hm?”

he shouldn’t — he really shouldn’t — but the urge, the need to mark you is overwhelming. it overrides every other rational thought.

he sees the way others look at you. he'll watch your videos — out of curiosity and not jealousy, he tells himself — and see the way your co-stars have this star-struck, pussydrunk look about them. he never brings himself to finish watching the videos.

his teeth sink into your skin, a sharp shock of electricity and want flooding your senses. your nails dig into his scalp, hissing out a breath between your teeth. his teeth are deep, and you can't find yourself to care. arousal leaks from your cunt, begging to be touched and filled and claimed.

ghost eventually withdraws his teeth. you sink down into the mattress, tension seeping from your body. the sting of the mark he left becomes a focal point of your attention, body buzzing and thrumming with arousal as ghost licks thick stripes to soothe the deep impression, admiring his work .

"laswell's gonna kill you," you mumble, moving to cradle the back of his head, trying to pull him up.

he goes willingly.

his eyes sparkle, a cocky smirk painted on his lips as he drags them from your cheek to your lips, indulging in a slow kiss, tongue pushing in your mouth and licking along the edges of your teeth, grazing the roof of your mouth.

"good thing i don't care what laswell thinks," he says against your lips when he pulls away, continuing the path of his kisses down your jaw to your throat, pressing delicate kisses to your pulse.

his cock lays against your hip, thick and pulsing and dripping pre-cum. you lace your legs up around his waist, heels of your feet resting delicately at his sides.

one arm cages you in while he uses his other hand to push your hair back from your face, lips tracing a path from your forehead down your temple, right above your ear.

"and me?" you ask against his jaw, wrapping around your arms around broad shoulders, enticing him to lay more of his weight down on you.

"and you what, sweet thing?" his reply comes so quick, so fluid, like he was waiting for you to ask.

"do you care what i think?"

he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek before pulling back to look at you in a way only he can. you've seen — felt — the stares of your coworkers when you're filming.

it never compares to how ghost — simon — looks at you. like you were made only for him (and maybe you were, you think, from time to time); like you were the moon and he was so desperately trying to be the stars to be close to you; like his every breath began and ended with you.

he doesn't answer you with words. he's never been a man of many words, anyway.

he cups your jaw so softly, thumb brushing along your cheek. his eyes are so bright, his touch is always so gentle.

you can't remember life before he came into it, a blur of memories and moments lost to time. all you know now is that you can't — won't — go through life without him by your side, so deeply entwined in your blood and bones and soul.

his mouth is warm and tender against yours, and it's so easy to lose yourself to the comfort and the haven he has become. he kisses you like his life depends on it, like he'll stop breathing if he lets you go.

his fingers skim along your sides, down your spine and to your hip, tilting you up against him until your ass is resting against his thighs, cock hot and heavy and leaking right above your clit.

he carefully guides himself down your cunt, slipping himself between your folds, gathering your slick, before notching the fat head at your entrance and you ache.

he's so big — bigger than any of your coworkers, anyone you've slept with outside work — but he pushes himself so easily into your soaking pussy, walls fluttering around each inch that sinks into you. you feel so fucking full of him, the stretch a pleasant burn that ignites in your belly, lighting up your nerves like a wildfire.

always a little delirious when he pushes into you, consumed by the tight, wet heat of your cunt, he pants against your cheek, cradling you against his chest.

you fold yourself into him, legs hitching higher, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. you lick at the sweat clinging to his skin, cologne sticking to your tongue.

without any words, he knows when you're ready. you always need a moment to adjust to his size, feeling the deep, steadying breaths you take. he pulls out slowly, carefully, until the tip rests at your entrance, before snapping his hips back against yours. his lips fall to the column of your throat, feeling each moan he pulls from you, each whimper and whine.

you love the way he fucks you for work. it doesn’t feel like it’s work, not with him, never with him. you try not to dream too much about being able to keep him all for yourself.

this feels different. this is different. deep, slow thrusts, lingering kisses, noses brushing, breathing in each other.

your name sounds like a prayer on his lips, as he takes your fingers to kiss them before lacing them together, pressing your joined hands above you on the pillow.

your vision is hazy, clouded over with pleasure, barely able to keep your eyes open with each deep, steady thrust, his cock kissing the tip of your cervix.

"look at me, sweetheart," he begs, accent slurred and thick, eyes so dark and inviting. you want to lose yourself entirely to him.

maybe you already have.

"you don't even know what you do to me," he whispers against your lips, keeping his confession sacred between you. your breath stutters in your throat, unable to choke down the thoughts drowning you, a tear slipping down the side of your cheek.

he chases it with his lips, placing softer kisses to your eyelids, and then above your brow, moving down your nose to the bow of your lips. your nails dig into his sides, trying to convey each muddled thought through your touch, marking and marring him and staking your claim.

a sharp inhale follows a deeper thrust, choking out his name as pleasure floods your veins like venom, overtaking you.

"there?" he breathes, nails digging into your hip to keep you steady. voice lost, all you do is nod and mewl, pressing your breasts up against his chest, always needing him closer.

"yeah, baby, i know," he says, almost laughing, arm lacing around your waist to press you flush against him, his other hand tangling in the sheets beside your head.

with anyone else, you'd roll your eyes and scoff at the arrogance. but with ghost? you're so pliant and loose in his grip, letting him do whatever he wants with you, so submissive and obedient, only for him.

"oh, you've needed this ever since we got to the party, hm?" his teeth graze your neck, down to your collar, right above the curve of your breast. "bet you would've let me fuck you in the bathroom, hm? let my cum leak out of you for everyone to see, let them know that you're mine?"

his thrusts are sharper, meaner. it's everything you want, eyes rolling in the back of your head as the pleasure burns hotter and hotter, the precipice of release right there. the sound of your cunt drawing him in deeper with each smack of his hips against yours fills the room, each moan accented with your pussy gushing around him, his cock coated in your desire.

"gonna be my good girl and cum for me?" his voice is so rough, a hand around your throat forcing you to look at him, mouth open as you pant out each breath, unable to think of anything but his name.

unable to think of anything but your first name with his last, a contract with your names, a band around your finger.

you can only whine out a yes, please, fuck please, want to cum for you. the fingers around your throat tighten, the edges of your vision seeping black.

a sharp bite to your shoulder is the catalyst for your orgasm. thighs shaking, a moan of his name weak in your throat, your cum coating the tantalizing line of hair from his bellybutton to his cock, dripping down your thighs.

"fuckin' hell," he growls against your skin, snapping his hips hard, grazing your clit twice, three times, before you feel his spend paint your insides. thick, hot spurts of his cum pulse from his cock, drawing out your own orgasm and making your brain static with pleasure.

a mixture of his cum and yours spill out from the edges of where he's buried inside you. his cock pulses a few more times as he comes down from his high, skin slick with sweat that's rapidly cooling.

he presses his entire weight down onto you, burying his face into your neck as your nose buries into his hair. sex and release and the last dregs of your perfume permeate the air.

you card your fingers gently through his hair, a comfortable silence lingering as you both fight to catch your breath. he needs a haircut, fingers tangling in the length. maybe he'll let you give him one tomorrow.

his body sinks deeper into yours, his breath even and steady to the point where you think he might've fallen asleep inside you. you're not about to wake him.

“have you ever thought about leaving?” you ask, hesitant, letting your question linger in the air.

“the industry?” comes his reply a moment  later.

you hum in acknowledgement.

he takes another moment more to think, before his answer comes, muffled against your throat. “sometimes, yeah."

“if i left, would you leave with me?”

his reply comes not even a second later, without any hesitation.

“my love, i go where you go."

you're glad he's tucked into your neck, arms wrapping around him protectively, possessively, throat clicking as you swallow. more tears slip down your cheeks, burning a path down your cheeks and settling in his hair. your eyes close as the emotions threaten to burst from your chest, a weak attempt to maintain your composure.

you can only hold back so much.

“do you believe in soulmates?” you ask, significantly softer. you only ask when you're confident your voice won't betray you. the crack gives you away.

ghost is silent, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat and you.

"'m not sure," he replies. he sounds worried, unsure. your heart beats painfully.

he's scared you're going to leave.

you'll never leave him.

“maybe they’re not in this world," you say, fingers tracing along his shoulders and down his spine. "maybe in another, another life, another place."

he shivers under your gentle touch.

"i think you’re mine," you say, heart beating and aching and tearing at the seams; so, so scared of your confession. "i can’t imagine going through this life without you.”

his voice, so much stronger, more confident and brazen and sure comes after a heartbeat.

“good thing you’ll never have to, darling.”

[writervaul-t]

something about you

chapter four: the wild wolf

summary: chiara calls [name] and unexpectedly sees more sides of benji.

pairing: modern!benjicot blackwood x reader

note: anyone got songs that are reader or benji coded? i'm expanding my playlist 😫

masterlist | playlist

There were many things [Name] could describe Chiara and one of them had not been predictable.

She had told [Name] she would be out with a couple of friends from her department at The Wild Wolf, a club just right outside the campus and a frequent place most students gravitated to after a torturous month of exams and classes.

Chiara had lived with the concept "Party it out" whenever a mildly inconvenient problem had found itself on her lap. [Name] elected to stay home during those times, either working the night shift at Rhaenyra's store or sitting at home. There were rarely ever days where their street was dead silent and [Name] took every opportunity to enjoy the minimal noise pollution.

That's why she found herself dumbfounded as she stood in front of The Wild Wolf, her phone gripped tightly in her hand as the music from her phone was nearly synced with what she was hearing outside. The guard, tall and burly Cregan Stark, was also the TA at her Data Analytics class last semester. He stood awkwardly in front of her as they tried to decode what Chiara was saying.

"I'm - hic - too druuuunk." Chiara says for the sixth time that night to her. "I'm at the sears by the bar. Do you think you can come gerk me please? I promise I won't ever doew thith agai--"

The line cut off, making both Cregan and [Name] shoot each other exhasperated looks. "I'll let you in since I know you're just going in to get her." Is all Cregan can offer, motioning to the ever growing line at to the club.

"I owe you one." [Name] says in response, letting Cregan stamp her hand before opening the door to the sound of loud EDM and body heat. Lights strobbed all around her, making [Name] disoriented as she made her way toward the booths, hoping to find Chiara quickly.

Worry seemed to work its way up as she couldn't find her friend after three booths. She couldn't have wandered too far away from how recent the call was. Still, it was Chiara of all people and the possibility of her wandering off anywhere while inebriated wasn't a new concept.

"Is that [Name]?" A voice calls out as she passes by a group, stopping her from checking another booth just past them. Her eyes go wide as she makes eye contact with a Tully. Beside him stood his brother and a couple of other people she could barely recognize but they certainly knew her from the way they looked at her. She kept herself still before she finally met a set of familiar dark eyes.

Benji looked as shocked as [Name] was as they made eye contact. His hair had been loose of its usual style, the brown strands covering his forehead and as if he'd run his hand through if one too many times all night. He wasn't dressed any differently then usual but she wasn't sure she'd seen him in the striped shirt and jeans he had on.

Or the chain around his neck and rings on his fingers. Or the girl clinging to his arm. A girlfriend? [Name] asked herself before remembering Chiara mentioning he hasn't been seen with anyone.

"Hi?" [Name] says. Benji pulls away from the girl - his friend group entirely - as he comes up to her. [Name] puts a hand up to stop him from coming closer, doing her best to speak loud enough so only he can hear. "I'm not here to party."

"I gathered that much." Benji says, looking at the starry sweater and leggings she threw on before leaving her apartment. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

From the corner of her eye, she can spot the brothers put their heads together, looking over Benji's shoulder and waving. The girl he had stood with looked at her curiously as she put her attention back on the man, worry settling in again as she remembered why she was here.

"My friend - Chiara Tyrell. She called me piss drunk and asked me to come get her. Have you seen her?" She asked him hopefully before looking around.

"No, I haven't but let's find her together, yeah?" Benji calls over the music, before turning back to his friends to tell them he would help [Name] and guiding her through the booths.

They checked diligently, Benji asking anyone he knew if they saw a brunette girl passed out anywhere. [Name] had nearly lost hope in everything until she heard a shriek and felt someone tackle her from behind. She nearly lost her footing had Benji caught her before falling over.

Chiara grinned dopily at the two of them, wrapping her arms around [Name] as she stared straight at Benji and said, "Ben! I'm so glad you're here. Do you think you can convince your girlfriend to go out sometime? It would so much more fun if you'd come with us! But I know that this place probably isn't part of your thing--"

[Name] stared her friend down, hand reaching to cover her mouth but Benji interrupts them, helping Chiara stand up after moving [Name] beside him. "Let's ask her when she's not about to kill you." He interrupts, working as a barrier between them and the dancing crowd.

[Name] groans as she puts her friend's arm around her. "How do you weight nothing but everything at the same time?" She huffs at her friend.

Chiara doesn't respond, seemingly falling asleep after realizing [Name] had found her. Benji grabs the other side of Chiara, helping [Name] move her to a booth close to where he originally was. Kermit and Oscar, having watched the whole ordeal, walks up to them, peering over at Chiara.

"Oh, she's gone." One of them chimes in.

"Do you need help?" The other adds, to which [Name] paused at the thought.

Chiara was small but definitely not light enough for her to walk five blocks on her back. She looked from her friend to the three men in front them then to the group they had came with. All of them seemed invested in what was happening, which made [Name] wonder if any of them were made aware of their agreement at all.

"Um, maybe just to take her outside? I can call a rideshare--" She started but nearly felt sandpaper go down her throat as she caught sight of a familiar mass of brown hair coming their way.

"Odd group to see!" Aeron calls out, a smile on his face that could only mean he drank one too many. His eyes blearily focused on [Name]. "Coming to pick your boyfriend up, [Name]? Ulla Greyjoy was all over him just a moment ago."

A pit in her stomach fell. He saw Benji with another girl? A fear struck in her as she realized they might get caught if she doesn't think of something quickly. "Um, no. I was with Chiara all night. We just separated from everyone."

Aeron glanced at her "In that bingo get up?"

[Name]'s cheeks turned red as she remembered her ridiculously put together outfit. Even in the dim light, she probably did look like a displaced librarian who just finished her night shift. Still, she wouldn't let his comments bother him, turning away to check on Chiara.

Being ignored had been Aeron's least favorite activity. [Name] was set on doing just that as she focused on her friend's needs. She pulled at her sleeves, wishing nothing more than to ignore Aeron and even Benji's subtle comments about her clothing right now. Sure, she did dress up like she was going to a flower field majority of the time, but the clothing made her comfortable but should she have more... Variety?

She could only go so far and wonder as she heard Aeron chime in again. "You know, its alright to admit if you made it all up, [Name]. It was pretty obvious when you said it at the beginning and now its clear you didn't even come in with this group."

The words made her blood run cold. She was sure whoever was around heard it. Aeron made sure it was made to be that way. Typical of someone like him. Benji stepped up this time, toe to toe with Aeron as he loomed over him.

"Say another word, Bracken. I dare you." He snapped, shoving the brunette's shoulder lightly. "[Name] is with us. Or are you too drunk to figure that out?"

"She's dressed like a nun on her off day!"

"So what?"

"Stop covering for her, Blackwood. We all know you haven't touched a woman in forever unless you paid for her." Aeron says before looking over at [Name] and grinning. "Though, who knows what [Name] will do to get money. Tyrell might be in on it as well. Didn't know you were into that kind of stuff, Blackwoo--"

A loud smack sounded in their corner of the club, making a few of the dancing club goers beside them stop. Aeron collapsed to the ground, holding his cheek as he stared at [Name]. Her chest heaved from adrenaline, palm burning as if it could still feel the heat of Aeron's cheek.

"I have a lot of patience for pompus, egotistical dolts like you but don't mistaken that as me being a dormat, Bracken." She seethes, walking closer to him. She leans over, making sure he had a good look at her face. "The next time you insult my friends like that, it won't just be a little bitch slap."

She backs away, not giving him a single glance as she grabs Chiara, the newfound adrenaline finding some strength in her to pull her friend up. A crowd had begun to form, Cregan Stark's burly build breaking through the bodies of skinny first and second years that swarmed them all.

"We're leaving." [Name] says to him. Cregan glanced down at Aeron, now standing in drunken disbelief with his friends as they watched [Name] coax Chiara to sit up.

Cregan nods. "Right. Just so you know, though, you're not allowed in for another few weeks. Any of you."

He stares pointedly between Benji's and Aeron's group. Clearly they he's had to speak to them before and this was a final straw. [Name] glanced apologetically at Benji, who only shook his head, motioning to the Tully brothers.

Kermit and Oscar were quick to come to herside, moving her out of the way as they picked up Chiara on either side. Benji strolled beside [Name], rubbing his hands along the length of her arms as he looked down at her.

"Alright?" He asked quietly, only low enough for her to hear and intimate enough between them for people to think they were together. A ploy to extinguish whatever fire Aeron almost started. Still, there was a genuineness in Benji's question. As a friend, he did want to know how she felt and she knew in her heart he really did, especially with how concerned he looks at her.

Play your part. "Yeah." She murmured, leaning into him without a second thought. She hadn't realized how shaken she was from such a simple comment and slap but when she had found herself against Benji's body, she could feel her shaking fingers clutch at his shirt to ground herself. "Just take us home. Please."

Benji wraps his arms around her, one of his hands smoothing her hair as he places a kiss on it, nodding with another quiet, "Okay. Our apartment is closer, so let's go there tonight, yeah?"

[Name] didn't answer, just nodded as she felt Benji pull away from her and grab her hand instead. She felt him plant another kiss to her forehad, maybe an attempt to sell their romance even more or maybe to calm her down, she hadn't known. Either way, she was nearly glued to Benji as they made their way out the club, hand in hand.

"We'll take Ulla and Aly home." She remembers a voice say. Benji, Kermit, and Oscar nod at them, the four of them (save for an unconscious Chiara who was being carried like a sack of potatoes by Kermit after losing rock-paper-scissors to Oscar) walked down in silence.

[Name] hadn't loosened her grip on Benji's hand, afraid if he might disappear on her despite them walking down a quiet and open street.

"I'm sorry I got you guys kicked out." Was all she could muster.

Oscar was the first to speak up, laughing as he says. "That is the only way we should get kicked out next time. When are you free again after a couple of weeks? I know you and Ben are only dating for a certain time period because of that weird deal and all but you seem like loads of fun with how fast you whipped around to slap Aeron!"

[Name] looked at Benji, who squeezed her hand. "I told my friends, like how you told Chiara. Don't worry, they won't say anything." He promises and she only nods, seemingly trusting his word. So far, anything Benji says makes [Name] comfortable enough to believe.

"She's busy, Oscar. Some people have lives outside of this school, yeah?" Kermit reminds him. "Besides, who would want to hang out with you?"

"Hey!"

The two brothers start to bicker right then and there, only to stop when Chiara groans at them to stop. [Name] giggles at her drunk friend as she pushes some hair out of her face.

"You're not allowed to complain, Chiara. The guys are nice enough to carry you and let us stay with them. Say thank you."

"Thaaaaank ye-yewwww." Chiara manages to slur out.

She's going to be so hungover. [Name] thinks to herself, looking over to see Benji observing her as well. They both share a look of amusement as they come to terms with the possible monster they have to deal with tomorrow morning.

When they make it back to their apartment - or more like a renovated warehouse loft - Chiara is set down on the couch. [Name] takes the time to remove her shoes and make up, letting the three men do whatever it is they needed for the night before asking for anything.

She had wiped the last of Chiara's makeup off when she hears footsteps from the metal stairs. Benji had just finished showering, his hair plastered against his forehead. He was holding a blanket with some clothes and a towel on top. [Name] offers a smile of thanks before throwing the blanket on top of Chiara.

A snort comes out of Benji when Chiara starts to snore loudly. "That's how you know she won't be waking up any time." [Name] informs.

"Well, we should all enjoy it until then." Benji comments. "There's a bathroom attached to our spare room. I usually use it because Oscar takes so long but I didn't want to fog it up just in case."

"Right. Thanks."

"And you can keep the clothes. In case you need to convince someone at your apartments you have a boyfriend and all."

"Cool. Got it." [Name] awkwardly fiddles with the sweatshirt and shorts. "Thank you for covering me, by the way. I so was caught up in Aeron and his comments that I could barely even register what I did."

Benji shook his head. "No, I understand. I would've done the same thing if he said that. He deserved that slap and more. You're a good friend for defending Chiara."

"And you," [Name] adds, raising an eyebrow at him. "He almost called you a pimp if I hadn't slapped him fast enough."

He grinned, recalling the events earlier. "Did you see his face? He couldn't believe it wasn't me who struck first."

They both laugh at the moment, remembering the shock and horror on Aeron's face when they all realized it had been [Name] who smacked him. [Name] stared at her palm. For once she felt the anxieties of the world wash away when she told Aeron off. Like a piece of a puzzle fell into place when she defined a line.

"Either way, it drained me. Who knew going to a club does that." [Name] jokes, making Benji perk up a little.

"Its more fun when there's no pricks like Bracken around. Join us next time." He urges. [Name] only nods, not ready to protest and reason right now. Not to mention, she'd get too curious and ask about Ulla Greyjoy.

Benji seemed to have sensed her hesitation from how he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it to not comment on it as [Name] walked up the stairs. She was grateful for his silence, not sure she was ready to open that kind of box yet.

Mingling, socializing, making friends - all of this was a new concept to [Name]. The only friends she had outside of Chiara was Syrax the store cat. It was a strange feeling but it sent a buzz in her system that made her want to continue looking for it. Still, it was a scary feeling and [Name] wanted nothing more than to push it away for now, the club, the slap, and Ulla's hand on Benji's arm still fresh in her mind.

"Baby steps." [Name] whispers to herself, shutting the guest room door so she can finally let the energy from tonight wash away in the shower.

taglist

@not-a-glad-gladiator @opheliaas-stuff @sahvlren @nikki-is-a-nerd @weird-things-i-think-about @cxcilla @anakilusmos @haydee5010 @waystarkia @newestobsessionishere @herejhsttostan @hardkiddonut @aisselasstuff @rebeccawinters @aemondsb1tch @radiantdanvers @northofvalyria @accidentpronedork @cafemirka @hobis-hope95 @nixtape-foryou

[f6bron]

sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol. 

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile. 

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit. 

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs. 

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

[ddejavvu]

i was using Spotify and I realized how u could see what ur friends are listening to atm on there and it would be so fun to have hotch discover this, and be surprised that the reader is listening to songs like “or nah” or j any explicit songs like that and is into it😋 could lead into something more like playing that song while they’re doing it later on

OKAY THANK YOU LOVE UR WRITING!!!

i love you! i just left this vague and open to whatever song you want to insert!

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Being Spotify friends with Aaron Hotchner only came about because of Penelope's insistence on team bonding. And because she wanted to send everyone the personalized playlists she'd made for them, and sharing became much easier that way.

All it's yielded for you is the knowledge that, very infrequently, Hotch remembers he has a music app on his phone, and that he plays 2-3 Beatles songs before he inevitably gets called to another task and has to shut off the music.

Aaron is even less frequently informed of your tastes in music than you are of his, because the few times that he's used the app, he forgets to check what the other members of the team are listening to. Not that he really cares; Spencer's listening to classical and Derek has too-loud EDM playing in his headphones that Savannah teases him for. Rossi prefers records to his phone, and JJ plays mainly kids' songs for her boys. Emily is always listening to some mid-2000's rock song, but you, you he hasn't gotten a read on. You're all over the place, switching from singer to singer, genre to genre, language to language. All in all, his team's music taste doesn't affect him, but Penelope is far more eager to snoop on you all than he is.

"Ooh, nasty girl," She gushes, head bent to look at her phone as she waits in Aaron's office. He'd instructed her to let him have five minutes to finish a report before she briefed him on a new case's details, but she's proving very distracting. With a glance up at her, half-scathing, half-incredulous, he asks, 'What?'

"Oh! Y/N's Spotify," She holds out her phone as explanation, showcasing your profile with unfamiliar album art displayed over it. It's black and red, but Aaron doesn't recognize the song or the artist.

He raises an eyebrow at Penelope, and she huffily gives into his demand.

"It's a song about sex," She informs him, "Like- feral, sweaty, hungry, clawing-at-the-sheets, scratching-up-his-back, mouth-open-so-he-"

"Alright! Enough," Hotch snaps, glaring disapprovingly at her rather vulgar language, "I think I get the picture, Garcia."

"Sorry, sir." She looks only mildly sheepish, talking more to herself than she is to him as she muses, "Didn't know she was into that kind of thing."

Aaron doesn't think about the title of the song again until well after Penelope's gone, and he's taking his lunch alone in his office. He's more a fan of songs that, if they are about sex, don't outwardly mention any vulgarity, and he's not sure if he could handle explicit material being spewed at loud volumes directly into his ear. Call it morbid curiosity, call it Disapproving Boss Syndrome, but he fishes near-new headphones out of his desk drawer to find out what you've been listening to while filling out government paperwork all day.

He has the good sense to look it up on youtube without logging in. He doesn't want this attached to him in any way, and he certainly doesn't want eagle-eyed Penelope catching him on Spotify.

The beginning of the song seizes the ear right away, a unique beat that definitely doesn't sound sexually appealing. But when each different instrument filters in and the lyrics begin, he realizes that Penelope's description was not very far off.

It's filthy.

It's twenty kinds of vulgar, words that he's never even heard before being used to refer to genitalia. The only way he figures out their definitions is through context, and he thinks he may have been better off without knowing them. He's floored by the contents of the song; he knows sexual songs exist, even at this level of vulgarity, but he'd have never expected you to indulge in them. Certainly not in the workplace.

The song finishes out at three minutes and nine seconds, and Hotch feels a slight heat to his face as he unplugs his headphones and closes the tab. No one had caught him, but he feels mortified anyways, and decides he no longer has an appetite.

He puts the lid back onto the container of leftover pasta that he'd brought from home, keeping his head down as he treks to the kitchenette to refrigerate it.

Of course, his luck fails him as he nearly bumps into you, rounding the corner to the small, closed-off kitchen and finding you in front of the microwave in the doorway.

"Oh! Sorry, Hotch." You laugh, stepping out of his way to let him through. He notices an earbud in your ear and pushes away the knowledge of what song you're probably listening to, heading for the fridge instead.

"It's fine." He grumbles, electing to stay silent for the rest of your impromptu meeting if he can manage. He feels slightly guilty for being cold towards you, because it was his own curiosity that led to his embarrassment, but he can't look you in the eyes right now.

You see fit to fill the awkward silence with the tapping of your nails on the counter, and with a jolt of recognition, and something else far more intense below the belt, he realizes that you're tapping out the beat of the song.

He ignores your sharp gasp as he slams the refrigerator door perhaps a tad too hard. He doesn't have time to feel bad about startling you, though, not when he so desperately needs to be back in the confines of his office, away from the prying eyes of the team.

His sharp memory comes in handy as he calls upon the name of the song later that night, pretending to himself that he's only doing it because it's been stuck in his head. Not because every time he thinks of it, or rather, of you listening to it, his pants tighten slightly. He chooses youtube first, but something drags his thumb towards the spotify button instead, and he swallows the saliva that's suddenly pooled in his mouth when his suspicions are confirmed: you're listening to it, too.

At eleven-thirty at night, probably beneath the covers on your bed just like Aaron is, you're listening to a song about sex, and as he sinks a hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, he knows without a doubt that you're doing the same.

[billybob598]

Teasing (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Just ignore how absolute shit this is. I told everyone I would write this, so I actually had to write it sadly. This was requested by an anon so hopefully this is what you wanted. I'm sorry for how short and terrible it is. Next fic is Sydney Lohmann x f1 reader so hopefully that will be better than this. Again any feedback good or bad is welcomed! So, please enjoy this absolute shitshow this fic is.

Word Count: 979 (Omg this made me sad)

“Y/N? Any chance we could leave this century?” Alessia calls up the stairs. You roll your eyes, continuing to straighten your hair. The sound of feet stomping against the carpet gathers your attention, Alessia wraps her arms around your waist while nuzzling her head into your neck.

“Love, if you don’t move your head I’m going to burn you,” you say gently, trying your best to move the hair straightener away from your girlfriend. All you get in response is her mumbling some incoherent words into your neck. The pout on her face makes your heart melt, but for everyone’s safety, you stand your ground. 

Ten minutes later, the two of you are heading out to the bar Ella and some of your teammates had decided to meet. With the World Cup coming up soon, the Manchester United team was trying to spend as much time as possible together.  It was a fact in your relationship that Alessia was the driver and you were the passenger princess. As she settles into the driver’s seat, you connected your phone to the car and decided on a playlist. For the excruciatingly long five minutes, it takes to get to the bar, you and Lessi are singing your hearts out to Adele. When your girlfriend parks the car, she rushes out over to your side and opens the car door for you.

“Ever the gentlewoman,” you say with a slight tease in your voice. She blushes as you get out. 

“Y/N/N!” A booming voice startles you, but you grin widely as Tooney approaches you happily. The midfielder links your hands and pulls you into the bar, not before you grab a hold of Alessia and drag her with you. The blasting music hits you like a shit ton of bricks. You were not prepared at all for the EDM blasting at full volume. Tooney says something about getting drinks so, you and Lessi search for any teammates that are already there. A few of you guys find a booth while Tooney brings over some shots. You sit close to Lessi while handing her a drink. She smiles gratefully at you before turning her attention back to the story Millie is telling very passionately. For about an hour everyone is talking and laughing, you were even able to get Alessia to dance with you for a few songs. In Alessia's fashion, though, she tripped on both her own feet and yours multiple times. After some of the team had calmed down, the five or six of you that were sitting in the booth fell into an easy-flowing conversation. Soon, the conversation turned toward the impending World Cup. Of course, you were on the USWNT and Alessia had made the Lionesses squad. Both of you had avoided talking about the fact that you would be away from each other for around two months and that there was a chance that you’d play against each other in the final. 

“So lovebirds, are you excited?” Mary Earps asks jokingly. Alessia laughs lightly.

“I’m ready, I don’t know about the US though. They better be ready to get their ass whooped,” she mocks, watching you out of the corner of her eye. To your credit, your reaction is controlled and measured, to the naked eye you don’t have a reaction, but Alessia knows you too well. The way your jaw clenches slightly and your hands closing into fists just the tiniest bit are all telltale signs that you’re pissed. Even if she didn’t know, you turn to look at her with raised eyebrows, cementing the idea that you were not pleased with your girlfriend. For the next few hours, all of the English girls continue to poke fun at your American ass. Again, to your credit, you hold your tongue and take the jibes with ease. It’s only when Katie Zelem makes a particularly harsh joke about the England v USA game back in October, that you snap.

“Man, you guys are talking a big game for a team that got knocked out by us in the last World Cup,” you retort. Your words catch everyone off guard. They all look at each other before bursting into laughter. The look of confusion on your face only making them laugh harder. 

“Damn Lessi, your girl’s got some bite,” Maya Le Tissier laughs out. Alessia smiles at you, but the smile soon turns into a smirk as she thinks of a comeback.

“Your talking a big game for a team that lost three games in a row,” the English player teases. As you narrow your eyes, you realize that neither of you are going to let the other off the hook with talking trash about their national team. 

“Mhmm I am, maybe ‘cause we’re 4-time world champs and you guys haven’t even made it to a final yet,” you say cheekily. While you both know it’s just fun and games, you’re determined to not let the other get the upper hand. For the rest of the night, your teammates watch in amusement at how the two of you continue to bicker. The banter being thrown around some might consider as being over the top mean, but to the two of you it’s perfectly acceptable. 

That night, as you settle into bed alongside of Alessia, you sigh loudly.

“You’re going to be sighing that loudly when we destroy you in the finals,” she snickers. You sigh again, this time in annoyance. 

“Seriously Less? It’s much too late for this and I’m much too tired to do this again,” you grumble, dragging one of your girlfriends arms across your waist. The blonde chuckles quietly and gently puts her face into the crook of your neck, kissing it softly. 

“I’m sorry, love. You just go to sleep now, and don’t forget…the USA is going down in the World Cup.”

[scuderiasundays]

a promise is a promise

summary: sliding into a stranger's dm's, nostalgia for your first date, and a promise sealed with a kiss + a little insta au at the end 💙

words: 1,071

a/n: my first time writing for mr. leclerc! thank you for the req, @headinthecloudssblog 🫶🏼 tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @formulaforza, @thatsdemko, and @diorleclerc because i trust you all deeply. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses!

Charles loved Adele and he sure wasn't shy about it. While the other racing drivers were hyping themselves up with rock, EDM, or rap, the Monegasque’s AirPods (which he often lost) were blaring “Someone Like You.” You, yourself, wondered how the powerful yet melancholy ballad could put him in the right headspace to drive at breathtaking speeds of up to 362 km/h. 

You were nothing short of euphoric when it was announced that she would be extending her exclusive residency in Las Vegas. It would be a dream come true if you could see her live during the weekend of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. However, a bitter reality crept in when you discovered the final show was scheduled for November 4, a mere two weeks before the two of you would arrive stateside. Charles would be racing at Interlagos, while you would be stuck at a clinical genetics conference in St Andrews.

“I was going to get us tickets to thank you for your service in the Great War!” You huffed as you watched Charles tie the laces of his Puma running shoes, visibly let down by the news. All of your friends thought the racing driver had used his F1 connections to get you those coveted floor seats, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Your boyfriend had spent 18 hours in a virtual queue on one of his few days off, using multiple of his sim racing monitors to secure tickets to the Eras Tour. Arthur had mocked his older brother about how “whipped” he was, joking that he was relieved someone else’s screen time was as horrific as his own.

With a light kiss on your neck, Charles wrapped his arms around you from behind, his voice filled with affection. "It’s like this, ma chérie. I'm going for a run with Andrea," he whispered. As he headed towards the door, his shoulders slumped and his AirPods in, it became clear today's run would be more of a recovery run, a moment for him to recharge physically but more so emotionally.

Determined to bring Charles closer to his idol, you swiftly grabbed your phone from the kitchen island and opened Adele's Instagram profile. Sliding into someone's DMs had never been your style, let alone that of a Grammy-winning artist, but you figured there was nothing to lose.

"Hi, this is Y/N. I know it's unlikely that you'll ever see this, but I'm taking a leap of faith for my boyfriend Charles, who is undoubtedly your biggest fan. Our first date perfectly encapsulates his essence," you began typing, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. "He took me on the most gorgeous twilight yacht ride, accompanied by a meticulously curated playlist of his favorite songs. Upbeat songs like 'A Sky Full of Stars,' 'Pepas,' and 'Feel So Close' filled the air. But then, out of nowhere, a hauntingly beautiful piano melody began to play."

Pausing for a moment, a reminiscent smile graced your face as the memory came roaring back to life. "'Is this Adele?'" you had asked, a glass of rosé in your hand. Charles looked so at peace compared to the tense expression he sometimes wore during race weekends. He had offered you his blue Ferrari sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill and confirmed that it was indeed Adele. Charles shared that he, unlike most, found comfort in what he deemed “depressive music.”

Since that fateful evening, the British songstress' music had become an integral part of your relationship. It served as the soundtrack to your road trips, where you took turns belting ‘Rolling in the Deep.’ It sparked heated debates about whether Adele’s ‘Daydreamer’ or Sade’s ‘By Your Side’ should be your first dance song. It even led to late nights, downing espresso shots just so you could listen to her latest album the second it dropped.

You reached for your phone once again. "That night ended with Charles’ hand resting on my thigh as he drove me home to 'Make You Feel My Love.’ Your music has been the soundtrack to so many of our most intimate moments, and it would mean the world if you could find some time to perform for him," you typed, pouring your heart into the message. You added, "I know this is a long shot, but I..." before eagerly hitting the "Send" button. With a growing sense of accomplishment, you decided to run to the grocery store to pick up some fresh salmon for dinner.

Unable to keep a secret to save your life, you shared what you’d been up to with Charles. "You DM'd the queen? Je t'aime, ma belle, but I highly doubt she'll reply," he playfully teased, rolling his eyes as he wiped the dish you had just handed him.

"What if she does?" you retorted, a hint of hope in your voice. "You know how I treasure you so much I don’t even trust myself to take you on a hot lap? We’ll do it in Las Vegas if and only if Adele responds." His devilish Leclerc wink accompanied the mischievous remark, leaving you to wonder how this crazy turn of events would unfold.

Weeks passed, and with each passing day, the likelihood of a reply dwindled. Charles was away in Qatar when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. A courier stood before you, holding a grand bouquet of white roses along with a message card. Assuming it was from him, your hands trembled as you read the sign-off on the ivory white card. There it was, unmistakably etched in the most elegant script. Five letters. Adele.

You snatched the card eagerly and read it over countless times, overcome with disbelief. It turned out that Adele's devoted fan base had made her very much aware of Charles' fanboying. She expressed her delight and confirmed that she would be more than happy to sing a few songs for you over dinner so long as she could score some “cool mom points” and bring her son Angelo to the race.

Your hands trembled with sheer excitement as you shared the spectacular news with Charles. He blamed his nonexistent allergies as tears welled up in his eyes, but you saw right through his lies.

"So, you'll be taking me on that hot lap, Leclerc?" you grinned, blissed out seeing him so happy. "Bah oui, une promesse est une promesse," he replied, sealing his vow with a well-earned kiss.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 61,616 others

yourusername: weekends with adele (and charles) 🎰🍸❤️

fan1: “it’s true that, after a bad day, if you listen to that, you cry. you don’t feel any better. but i like it. i like the mood of depressive music.” - chuck leclerc

charles_leclerc: i have the best girlfriend in the world! tu est simplement la meilleure ❤️

adele: she’s one of a kind! thank you for letting me bear witness to your love x

yourusername: you, sir, are the love of my life. thanks for tolerating my impulsivity!

fan2: i need a charles and adele collab and i need it NOW 😤

joris_trouche: he’ll never shut up about this

charles_leclerc: prepare to be sick of me! wait, you and @andferrari007 already are 🫣

scuderiaferrari: c² music challenge but adele songs only?

carlossainz55: why play when i don’t even stand a chance 🤨

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

My headcannons for what type of music the Batfam likes lol

Bruce: 40s love songs, mostly because Thomas and Martha are lovers of old music and art it’s a call back to Batman being such an old.. old character.

He also loves really, REALLY sad songs. Just straight depressing songs, like he knows all the lyrics to like the most downright suicidal songs ever.

Dick: he listens to very upbeat music, but like EDM and rap, he also loves circus music and really ridiculously old songs he knows all the words to “the flying trapeze” by heart ❤️

Jason: unironically his favourite album is Neil Cicirega's "mouth sounds" series of albums, he also would never admit it but he listens to Kikuo constantly. he's not a "fan" of vocaloid he just likes some songs. he also constantly listens to 80s and 70s hits as a call back to his character being popular in the 80s.

Tim: worst taste in music ever, he does NOT get the aux. it's all the most popular hits of the last 4 decades, for better or worse.

he also gets all the WE jingles stuck in his head, it's so bad.

it's mostly now video game OST's he got into FNAF lore at one point and actually solved it, and then got super into the music. he relates a bit too much, he calls Jason sometimes mike because they are both undead guys hellbent on keeping kids safe from the evils of this world, and Ra's afton because the bastard always comes back. he will BLARE "I hope you die in a fire" when working a Ra's case.

Damian: despite what he holds himself to he really likes the same fandom sorta music, video game lore was the only thing that Damien and Tim talk about, they have usually ZERO free time to watch or play games they just extrapolate wtf the game is about from their friends WITH free time. that being wally and bart.

so damien has a bunch of the living tombstones, classic Chinese and arabic music but mainly Pakistani, some 80s hits. 40s love songs because bruce is right they are really good, and some mislabeled cassette tapes\CD's Damien picks up on patrol that he likes.

Steph: she didn't really get a chance to listen to much music, since Cluemaster was a dick. but she did bond and learn to love Ballet music ever since Cassandra introduced it to her, she gets whole records and albums and buys one time releases on Ebay for herself and Cassandra. otherwise she just listens to audiobooks or podcasts when working.

Cassandra: TONS of ballet music along with classic Oprah music and theatre music, she goes to plays and pirates them, she listens to every single play or theatre music she can get her hands on. she listens to "rocky horror picture show" "the guy who didn't like musicals" "Coppélia" "Jesus Christ superstar" "The Mousetrap" any and everything. she adores it all, she and Steph are constantly looking for more records and plays to watch and pirate.

Barbara: weirdly enough 60s music, Jim rubbed off on her and she honestly just listens to all sorts of 60s sounding music, she had a Elvis phase where she just was constantly listening to Elvis, eventually she found out there was a TON of other 60s and 70s black artists who were ripped off by Elvis and started listening to them, she then eventually got into punk rock and rock and roll.

Harper: she is fully into the Gotham punk music scene, she literally is one of the biggest supporters of the Gotham punk scene. only random punk song CD's, videos she converted into CD's, old gothamite punk songs on vinyl, digital releases, she just has so much merch half she made herself and half she bought, she is the epitome of Gotham punk fan. she actually has a whole ass internet archive account dedicated to JUST Gotham punk.

Duke: weirdly he loves very ethereal and bright peppy music, only instrumentals though, listens to the weirdcore playlists on YouTube listens to corecore, he just has very strange music tastes.

sometimes he forgets his entire playlist is filled with weirdly ethereal music and the rest of the batfam get so confused, and think Jean-paul is blaring church music again.

Jean-Paul: only church music, he has the most bland music tastes, he sometimes listens to catholic metal or something when he's working but other than that he just blares organ music and mass and church music, everyone tries to tell him that he CAN LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE. PLEASE. but he just doesn't lol.

Thomas: he listens to 40s love songs and old Sicilian and Italian songs, he's a old fart, he loves old movie soundtracks.

William Cobb: circus music only circus music, late 1880s and 1950s circus music. it sounds like a clown house and it triggers the shit out of bruce.

Jarro: he's a baby, he has no actual opinions the batfam put on nursery rhymes andcoco melon

and the rest (carrie, Bernard, huntress and the other ones)

I have 0 idea I have not read enough comics to figure it out lol