#Olivia sui imagine

[sibsteria]

Can you keep a secret?

Ian Hecox x fem!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings/Content: kissing, fluffy, alcohol

Summary: This has gone on for too long, hasn’t it?

New! Ian Hecox Prompt Series

Prompts: “I saw that. You just checked me out.”

Another day, another function, right? Well maybe not everyday, but they come pretty often when Ian Hecox only wants you as his date, and to everyone else you were simply just close friends. Best friends. They couldn’t be more wrong.

As time went on, it got harder and harder to make excuses as to why the office couldn’t know about this, as to why it should be a secret. Maybe at this point you just wanted yourselves to each other secretly, enjoying the game to the maximum.

It gets harder to look anyone in the face like your just colleagues when you have seen them naked, you would know. Sometimes you wonder if it’s almost too on the nose, and then you hear the arguments as you sneak by.

“No, dude, there is something going on between them!” Damien bites in a whispered shout.

“No, no, they’ve known each other for years, man. That’s it-“ Arasha, you sweet, sweet dumbass.

“You are so blind, don’t come running to me when we find out they are married with twelve kids.” You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught.

“Twelve?” Amanda chuckles.

“Have you seen the eyes they give each other? They are absolutely boinking enough to have twelve kids.” Shayne explains to the class, acting like he had higher knowledge.

“I dunno man…” Amanda hums, thinking about what could be going on.

It was extremely hilarious to Ian and you how they would argue about your possible relationship, little did they know.

They had only gotten the story bang on, once, that being Olivia- she had been there from the beginning and was the only one paying true attention to what was right in front of them. Screwing this, pining that, just friends?

“Hey, do they always carpool when Y/n lives the opposite way from the office? And owns her own car?” Back then, her comment went unnoticed. No, no you did not, you were at his place that night and hoped no one cared enough to notice your blooming relationship.

“They’re dating, calling it.” You stood laughing in his office, giving him big googly eyes.

“You guys are stupid, it’s not lust- it’s love! Well, it is lust-“ A healthy mix of both?

“Clearly, they kissed at Tommy’s birthday, and then started dating! I was there that night, you could smell it a mile away.” She’s right, you did.

And soon, she would get her satisfaction.

This function was informal at best, just an office celebration, promotion- yada yada, etc. Still, dressing up was heavily encouraged.

You stood in your shared bedroom, that once was just Ian’s bedroom, brushing your dress down in the mirror. You put in your earrings, plucking out some wispy hairs before you hear the door click open.

From the mirror in front of you, a suited Ian clad in a flattering green suit, you caught eyes on him and couldn’t tear them away. You scan him up and down, not turning yet, not giving away just how much you wanted to forget the party and just-

“I saw that. You just checked me out.” He hums to himself, satisfied with the compliment that went unsaid.

“So what if I did?” You play along, finally turning around and damn, the mirror understated it.

“Hey, don’t give me that look, we can’t be late-“ He shakes his head at you, as you walk towards him.

“Whatever do you mean?” You whisper, laying a soft kiss on his lips, he wraps his arms around your waist, admiring your face.

“You know.” He mumbles.

“I can’t stare at my fiancé?” Oh, yeah, that was why you couldn’t be late- big announcements and all, it was about time.

“You think they can handle it?” They definitely will not.

“Fifty, fifty. Give or take.” You shrug, smoothing out his lapel.

“One of the fifty’s is Anthony, obviously.” Well, duh, he wasn’t going to hide this from him- for clear reasons.

You sat around some circular tables that were put up for the party, various drinks and buffet plates strewn around. You sat next to Ian, obviously, with Anthony on his other side- Spencer, Erin and Mallory at the table along with you. There wasn’t really a seating plan, this wasn’t the Oscars.

Your hand slid under the table as you found Ian’s, wrapping your fingers around his, he turned to smile at you momentarily- you would attempt to confine everything just one last time.

“You ready?” He whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine as his breath was so warm against the chill of the air conditioned room.

“Bring it on.” You take a deep breath, now or never, the façade was over now.

It was speech time, everyone prepped for the usual ‘thank you, everyone’ ‘good luck, [insert name here]’ ‘i am proud of all of you’s, no one could have prepped for what followed.

Ian and Anthony had finished their parts between them, everyone thought that was it.

“Hey, wait a second…” Ian looked around confused, so did…everybody else.

“What?” Anthony played along, you didn’t know they had scripted anything, now you felt left out.

“Can you hear that?” He cups his ear and Anthony pretends to be confused.

“Hear what, Ian?” He had flipped to his on voice, his video voice, everyone had thought this was just another gimmick.

“The…the wedding bells?” He squints his eyesz

“Oh…yeah?” Anthony hums, looking around.

“But where is my fiancé?” He scratches his head, good think he wasn’t too drunk as this would look like a regular mess-about.

“I think I see her.” Anthony doesn’t look at you yet, your heart hammers in your chest.

“Where?” He tries to hold off a smile, the whole room is itching with anticipation. Where was this going? Was this a joke? A bit?

“Oh, there she is.” Anthony pretends to act stupid as he points directly at you, sat next to them as they stood. The room went wide eyed, a few gasps, was this real?

“Come on, Y/n, don’t leave me at the alter with all of these people watching.” Ian grumbles into the mic, you shakily stand, mostly out of excitement.

“I would never.” You giggle into the mic and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your temple, Anthony sits down slowly. and lets you have your moment.

“Oh my god, oh my god, it’s happening.” Damien whispers. The room is in hushed murmurs, unsure-

“We are…engaged.” Ian bites his lip as soon as he lets the cat out of the bag, finally.

“What!”

“OH MY GOD!”

“THIS IS NUTS!”

“I TOLD YOU!”

“Oh, oh!”

“I KNEW IT!”

“Engaged?!!”

“For how long has this been going on?!”

“What the hell!”

The room turns into chaos, chairs screeching as people stood.

“Is this for real?”

“Okay, okay, may we have some decorum? This is in fact real, hello, we have been dating for the past five years and…thought it was time to tell all of you about it. And to save the date, of course.” You smile at the crowd some of your closest friends, this was a family after all.

There was screaming and shouting, you thought you heard a few bets come to a close and swapping of money.

“Mama and papa!” Courtney whimpers in joy, forever the comic.

“Mama and papa confirmed.” You nod at her as Ian speaks.

“No more complaining about our speeches now, I guess?” Ian raises his eyebrows.

You had gotten home later than expected, the night sort of turning into a premature engagement celebration and answering questions as you got swarmed. You groan as you kick off your heels, putting on a comfy shirt of Ian’s and climbing into bed next to him.

“I love you.” He trills, securing his arms around you once you are under the covers.

“Yeah, yeah, tell me something new.” No hint of annoyance in your voice as you stare off into the room lit by bedside lamp, a smile stuck to your face.

“Serious. I wanted this for so long when I met you, feels so good to just be here with you.” You can hear his smile in his voice as he kisses your neck goodnight.

“Me too, mister, me too. I love you so much.” You breath out a sigh of contentment through your nose.

You really don’t want to be at the office tomorrow.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ 🎀 ˚

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ navigation ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

➳ hello lovelies!! i’m practically a smosh blog at this point. enjoy 💌🍒

➳ requests are currently closed

╰┈➤ masterlist after the cut!!

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fluff: ♡ angst: ✧ requested: ☽

ˋ°•*⁀➷ oneshots ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹˚

ian hecox…

╰┈➤ First Fake Date || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2.5k warnings: none summary: Ian finds out his ex-girlfriend is going to be at an upcoming event and when you volunteer to go as his fake-date things don’t go quite as either of you planned.

╰┈➤ More Than Friends || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 3.5k warnings: mild cursing summary: you have been ignoring your growing feelings for your best friend ian, but when you are chosen to do a romantic scene together will those feelings stay hidden?

╰┈➤ Fishy || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.8k warnings: none summary:you and ian have been dating for some time now, sneaking around so no one in the office knows you’re seeing each other. but when you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, you’re forced to reveal your relationship to your coworkers

╰┈➤ Celebrity Crush || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.8k warnings: none summary: you have liked ian for some time now and despite your cast mates attempts at telling you that ian feels the same way, you don’t believe them. that is, until some interesting things are revealed through a video

╰┈➤ Historical Figure’s Mario Kart || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1k warnings: none summary: imagine being the mom + dad of smosh with ian as all of you hang out

╰┈➤ Try Not to Laugh: Crew Baby Edition || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.2k warnings: pregnancy, talk of milk (iykyk) summary: you announce your’s and ian’s pregnancy through a TNTL bit

╰┈➤ Shipped || Ian Hecox x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2.4k warnings: swearing summary: when you and ian watch fan compilations of yourselves for a video, you realize how much you actually like each other

╰┈➤ Roasted || Ian Hecox x reader • ☽

word count: 1.3k warnings: none summary: you, a crew member at smosh, appear on your first TNTL gauntlet and have a surprise for your boyfriend ian

╰┈➤ Daddy Ian || Ian Hecox & daughter!reader • ♡☽

word count: 829 warnings: none summary: ian introduces his daughter to the smosh cast

anthony padilla…

╰┈➤ First Day || Anthony Padilla x reader • ☽

word count: 2.7k warnings: mild language, cheesiness summary: after ian and anthony buy smosh, you can’t wait to finally meet anthony. but your first encounter with him doesn’t go exactly as you would have thought.

spencer agnew…

╰┈➤ Cool Shoes || Spencer Agnew x reader • ♡☽

word count: 3.7k warnings: mild swearing summary: when you join smosh as the newest addition to the games crew, you are immediately attracted to spencer. but will your little crush turn into something more?

╰┈➤ Cool Shoes: Part 2 || Spencer Agnew x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2.8k warnings: implied smut, innuendos summary: now that you’ve both admitted your feelings for each other, spencer takes you out on your first official date

╰┈➤ Birthday Wishes || Spencer Agnew x reader • ♡☽

word count: 3.2k warnings: mild language summary: you and spencer have been long distance for some time now, and he decides he wants to do something special and surprise you for your birthday

╰┈➤ Spilled Punch || Spencer Agnew x reader • ☽

word count: 3k warnings: none summary: when you agreed to go to a smosh party with your best friend tommy, you didn’t imagine enjoying yourself very much. you also didn’t imagine you’d end up making out with spencer in the coat closest

╰┈➤ I Choose You || Chosen!Spencer Agnew x reader • ☽

word count: 1.1k warnings: none summary: when you come to visit smosh, where your boyfriend spencer works, he surprises you by showing you one of his favorite characters

╰┈➤ Marry Me || Spencer Agnew x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2.4k warnings none: none summary: after seeing shayne and courtney tie the knot, you are worried that you’ll never find a love like theirs. that’s when you start to see your best friend spencer in a new light

╰┈➤ Fight Club || Spencer Agnew x reader • ✧♡☽

word count: 1.8k warnings: cursing, gross man flirts with you summary: when you’re at a club with spencer and you get hit on by a drunk man, you are annoyed that spencer feels like he has to protect you. but then, when things go too far, you get to see just how much spencer cares for you

╰┈➤ See You Online || Spencer Agnew x reader (partial social media au) • ♡☽

word count: 2.6k warnings: mild swearing summary: when you see a smosh video of spencer saying you’re one of his favorite youtubers, you begin to interact online. then, when you both attend vidcon (and spencer’s friends convince him to talk to you) you hit it off

╰┈➤ Dropping Hints || Spencer Agnew x reader (social media au) • ♡☽

word count: 1k warnings: mild language summary: after you guest star in a smosh video, you and spencer start dropping hints of your relationship on insta

╰┈➤ American Smile || Spencer Agnew x british!reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.4k warnings: mild langauge, i’m american so probably inaccurately depicted london/british, shameless taylor swift references i’m just a girl summary: when smosh comes to london to to do a show you also happen to be a part of, you and spencer hit it off

╰┈➤ Soup for the Soul || Spencer Agnew x russian!reader • ♡☽

word count: 1k warnings: lead up to smut, sick fic, mild swearing, inaccurate russian? summary:when spencer is sick, you come over to take care of him

trevor evarts…

╰┈➤ Perfect || Trevor Evarts x chubby!reader • ✧♡☽

word count: 1.1k warnings: insecurities, body shaming, implied smut summary: when you are feeling insecure about your body after getting negative comments online from fans, trevor comforts you and assures you that you’re beautiful

╰┈➤ Am I The Crush? || Trevor Evarts x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2.2k warnings: mild swearing summary: when trevor joined smosh, you quickly became friends, helping him settle in—and secretly crushing on him. then some interesting things are revealed in a reddit stories video.

angela giarratana…

╰┈➤ Misread Signs || Angela Giarratana x reader • ☽

word count: 2.2k warnings: none summary: when you start to become really close with courtney, angela takes this as a sign that you aren’t interested in her, until unusual circumstances cause you both to realize each other’s feelings

╰┈➤ Love Hurts || Angela Giarratana x reader • ✧♡☽

word count: 3.9k warnings: angst summary: you have been in love with angela for months and upon finding out that she is dating someone else, heartbroken, you start to distance yourself from her and everything else in your life

╰┈➤ Jealousy, jealousy || Angela Giarratana x reader • ☽

word count: 1.3k warnings: hickeys summary: angela finds herself jealous when another member of the cast flirts with you and she decides to let you know that you’re hers

╰┈➤ Sleepyhead || Angela Giarratana x reader • ♡☽

word count: 0.9k warnings: none summary: a sleepy angela wakes up with you and refuses to let you get out of bed

╰┈➤ Second Chances || Angela Giarratana x reader • ✧☽

word count: 3.3k warnings: none summary: when the smosh cast goes on a company retreat and you and angela are forced to share a hotel room you have the opportunity to rekindle an old romance

╰┈➤ Sweeter than Pie || Angela Giarratana x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.1k warnings: none summary: when you’re tired from work, angela cooks with you

╰┈➤ Princess || Angela Giarratana x reader • ☽

word count: 2k warnings: sick fic summary: when you start to feel sick during a game night with angela, you let her take care of you for once and she gets to see a different side of you

╰┈➤ Same Time Tomorrow || Angela Giarratana x reader • ♡☽

word count: 2k warnings: none summary: you’ve been going to the same gym for a while now, crushing on the same girl who’s always there but never actually talking to her. that is, until the letters start appearing in your locker

╰┈➤ Red, White, and You || Angela Giarratana x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.2k warnings: none summary: when you and the rest of the smosh cast go to angela’s place to celebrate the fourth of july, angela makes sure you two get your own celebration

courtney miller…

╰┈➤ Kiss the Nurse || Courtney Miller x sick!reader • ♡☽

word count: 0.6k warnings: sick fic summary: courtney takes care of you when you’re sick and is rewarded with a kiss from their patient

╰┈➤ Stay With Me || sick!Courtney Miller x reader • ♡☽

word count: 0.7k warnings: sick fic, mild swearing summary: when courtney calls and cancels your date night due to a stomach bug, you don’t hesitate to drop everything and take care of them.

╰┈➤ Only You || Courtney Miller x reader • ✧☽

word count: 1.2k warnings: none summary: when you begin to get jealous of courtney and shayne’s relationship, courtney assures you that you’re the one they love

shayne topp…

╰┈➤ Worth the Wait || Shayne Topp x reader • ♡☽

word count: 1.1k warnings: mild swearing summary: shayne is determined to find out what you’re Halloween costume is this year but you won’t tell him, and when the holiday is finally here he finds it very much worth the wait

ˋ°•*⁀➷ headcanons ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹˚

dating…

╰┈➤ Shayne Topp ♡☽

╰┈➤ Damien Haas ♡

╰┈➤ Ian Hecox

part 1 ♡☽

part 2 ♡☽

╰┈➤ Spencer Agnew ♡☽

╰┈➤ Anthony Padilla ♡☽

╰┈➤ Trevor Evarts ♡☽

╰┈➤ Angela Giarratana ♡☽

╰┈➤ Amanda Lehan-Canto ♡☽

╰┈➤ Chanse McCrary ♡☽

╰┈➤ Smosh Women ♡☽

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last updated: 2/3/25

╰┈➤ romanticize, fantasize, sentimentalize…nostalgize ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🩰

[blitzed-brat]

Smosh @ Renaissance Faire

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THIS EPISODE OF MONDAY NIGHT FRESH

THE MYTHICAL SIDE OF THE ABW CORPORATION BOARD

Previously, it was revealed that the duo Rhett and Link were secretly pitting Ninja Sex Party against all of Smosh. During a backstage segment, it was revealed that Rhett and Link had joined the ABW Corporate Board, alongside the Roy family and Lex Luthor. Their goal: bring the entire YouTuber side of ABW under their control aka the Mythical branch.

In order to instigate the feud between NSP and Smosh, it’s revealed that they have a mole in Smosh…

[pucksandpower]

Unfinished Business

Ghost!Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you arrive in Monaco expecting a once-in-a-lifetime vacation and you certainly get one — a fairytale romance with a Monegasque Prince … from the late 19th century

The gentle hum of a luxury sedan fades as you and your three best friends step out onto the sun-drenched streets of Monaco. The air is thick with anticipation and the salty tang of the Mediterranean. Your eyes widen as they trace the elegant facade of the Palais Grimaldi, its pale stone walls gleaming in the afternoon light.

“I still can’t believe we’re actually here,” Mia breathes, her voice tinged with awe. “An all-expenses-paid trip to Monaco? It feels like a dream.”

You nod, unable to tear your gaze from the intricate architecture. “It’s even more beautiful than the pictures,” you murmur.

Zoe hefts her designer luggage. “Well, ladies, shall we see if the inside is as impressive as the outside?”

As your group approaches the grand entrance, a smartly dressed concierge greets you with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Palais Grimaldi. You must be our contest winners. We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

“That’s us!” Olivia chirps, practically bouncing with excitement. “I’m Olivia, and these are Mia, Zoe, and Y/N.”

The concierge, whose name tag reads ‘Philippe,’ bows slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your suite.”

As you trail behind Philippe through opulent hallways adorned with priceless art and glittering chandeliers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve stepped into another world — or perhaps another time. The weight of history presses in around you, whispering secrets from centuries past.

“The Palais Grimaldi has quite a storied past,” Philippe explains as he leads you up a sweeping marble staircase. “It’s been home to Monaco’s ruling family for over 700 years.”

“700 years?” You echo, your mind reeling at the concept. “That’s incredible. Has it been a hotel for long?”

Philippe chuckles. “Oh no, mademoiselle. The palace only opened its doors to the public a few years ago. It’s still used for official state functions, but the family decided to share its beauty with the world.”

Mia leans in close, her voice low. “I bet these walls have seen some scandalous things over the centuries.”

“More than you can imagine,” Philippe says with a wink. “If these walls could talk ...”

As you reach the top of the stairs, a long corridor stretches before you, lined with ornate doors. Philippe stops before one and produces an old-fashioned key with a flourish. “Your suite, ladies.”

The door swings open, revealing a space that takes your breath away. Soaring ceilings, silk wallpaper, and antique furnishings create an atmosphere of timeless luxury.

“Holy. Crap.” Zoe’s usual composure cracks as she takes in the opulence. “This is insane.”

Olivia immediately flops onto one of the plush sofas. “I’m never leaving. You’ll have to drag me out kicking and screaming when the week is up.”

You wander to one of the tall windows, mesmerized by the view of the sparkling Mediterranean. “I can’t believe we get to stay here for a whole week.”

Philippe clears his throat. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Your luggage will be brought up shortly. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything at all.”

As the door closes behind him, your friends erupt into excited chatter.

“Did you see the size of that bathroom?” Mia gushes. “The tub is practically a swimming pool!”

Zoe is already examining the ornate writing desk. “Look at this. It’s probably worth more than my entire apartment.”

You run your hand along the silk-covered walls, feeling a strange thrill as your fingers trace the intricate patterns. “It’s like stepping back in time,” you murmur.

Olivia bounces on the bed, giggling. “Well, I for one plan to enjoy every modern amenity this place has to offer. Who’s up for raiding the mini bar?”

The rest of the afternoon passes in a whirlwind of unpacking, exploring every nook and cranny of your suite, and planning your itinerary for the week ahead.

As evening falls, you find yourself drawn back to the window. The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of pink and gold. The principality below comes alive with twinkling lights, promising endless possibilities.

“Earth to Y/N!” Mia’s voice breaks through your reverie. “We’re thinking of heading down to the hotel restaurant for dinner. You in?”

You turn from the window, smiling at your friends. “Absolutely. Just let me freshen up a bit.”

In the bathroom, you splash some water on your face and reapply your lipstick. As you study your reflection in the ornate mirror, a strange sensation washes over you — almost as if someone is watching. You shake your head, dismissing the feeling as jetlag-induced imagination.

Rejoining your friends, you make your way down to the restaurant. The maître d’ leads you to a table with a stunning view of the moonlit gardens.

“I propose a toast,” Zoe says, raising her glass of champagne. “To friendship, adventure, and a week we’ll never forget!”

You clink glasses, the bubbles tickling your nose as you sip. As your friends chatter excitedly about their plans for tomorrow, your gaze drifts to the gardens below. For a moment, you could swear you see a figure in old-fashioned dress moving among the hedges. You blink, and the apparition vanishes.

“Y/N? Hello? Anyone home?” Olivia waves her hand in front of your face.

You snap back to attention. “Sorry, what?”

“I was asking what you wanted to do first tomorrow. Beach or shopping?”

You consider for a moment. “Actually, I was thinking about taking a tour of the palace. I’d love to learn more about its history.”

Mia grins. “Ooh, good call. Maybe we’ll run into a handsome prince.”

You laugh, but something in your chest flutters at the thought. “I don’t think that’s very likely.”

As the evening wears on and the wine flows freely, you find your thoughts continually drifting back to the palace and its centuries of secrets. By the time you return to your suite, a pleasant exhaustion has settled over you.

You bid your friends goodnight and curl up in your luxurious bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets cool against your skin. As you drift off to sleep, the last thing you see is the moonlight streaming through the window, casting ethereal shadows on the walls.

In your dreams, you wander the halls of the palace. Everything is hazy, like looking through frosted glass. You turn a corner and come face to face with a young man dressed in 19th-century finery. His eyes, a startling shade of green, seem to pierce right through you.

He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no sound comes out. A profound sadness radiates from him, tugging at your heart. You reach out, wanting to comfort him, but your hand passes through him like smoke.

You jolt awake, heart racing. The room is bathed in the soft glow of pre-dawn light. You sit up, running a hand through your tousled hair.

“What was that?” You whisper to the empty room.

As the sun begins to peek over the horizon, you can’t shake the feeling that your dream was more than just a product of your imagination. Something about this place, about that mysterious figure, calls to you in a way you can’t explain.

You slip out of bed and pad to the window, watching as Monaco comes to life below. Whatever secrets the Palais Grimaldi holds, you’re determined to uncover them. Little do you know, this is just the beginning of an adventure that will change your life forever.

***

The Monégasque sun beats down relentlessly as you and your friends lounge by the hotel’s exclusive rooftop pool. The glittering Mediterranean stretches out before you, a canvas of blue punctuated by gleaming white yachts.

“Now this is what I call a vacation,” Mia sighs contentedly, adjusting her oversized sunglasses.

Zoe nods in agreement, not looking up from her book. “I could get used to this kind of luxury.”

You smile and close your eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of the sun and the gentle lapping of the pool water. But there’s a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake off.

Olivia notices your furrowed brow. “Y/N, what’s up? You look like you’re solving world hunger over there.”

You hesitate, unsure how to explain the strange occurrences of the past few days. “It’s nothing, really. I just ... have you guys noticed anything weird happening in the palace?”

Mia perks up, always ready for gossip. “Weird how?”

“Well ...” you start, then falter. How can you describe the way your hairbrush moved across the dresser on its own? Or the whispers you heard in the empty library? “It’s going to sound crazy, but I think there might be something ... supernatural going on.”

There’s a moment of silence before Olivia bursts out laughing. “Supernatural? Come on, Y/N. I know you’ve always been into that ghost hunter stuff, but this is a five-star hotel, not a haunted house.”

Zoe looks up from her book, her expression skeptical. “Are you sure you’re not just jet-lagged? Or maybe it’s all that rich food we’ve been eating.”

You feel a flush creeping up your neck. “I know how it sounds, but I swear, strange things keep happening. Last night, I saw a man’s reflection in the mirror, but when I turned around, no one was there.”

Mia sits up, suddenly interested. “Ooh, was he hot?”

“Mia!” Zoe admonishes, but there’s a hint of amusement in her voice.

You sigh, realizing how ridiculous you must sound. “Never mind. You’re probably right, it’s just my imagination running wild.”

But as the day wears on, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Every shadow seems to hold a secret, every creaking floorboard a whispered message.

That night, as your friends snore softly in their beds, you find yourself wide awake, staring at the ornate ceiling. The moonlight filtering through the curtains casts eerie shadows on the walls, and the silence of the night seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Unable to bear it any longer, you slip out of bed and into a robe. Your bare feet are silent on the plush carpet as you make your way to the door. You pause, hand on the doorknob, heart racing. Are you really going to do this?

Taking a deep breath, you step out into the dimly lit hallway. The palace is different at night, the opulence muted, shadows deepening the corners. You walk aimlessly, letting your instincts guide you through the maze-like corridors.

As you round a corner, a chill runs down your spine. At the end of the hallway, you see a figure. It’s only for a split second before it vanishes around the next bend, but you’re certain it was the same man you saw in the mirror.

“Wait!” You call out, breaking into a run. You turn the corner, but the hallway is empty.

Breathing heavily, you lean against the wall. “I’m losing my mind,” you mutter to yourself.

“I can assure you, mademoiselle, that your mind is quite intact.”

You whirl around, heart leaping into your throat. There, standing before you, is the man from your dreams and glimpses.

He’s of average height, with wavy dark hair and piercing green eyes. His clothes are old-fashioned — a tailored suit that wouldn’t look out of place in the late 19th century. But the most shocking thing is that you can see right through him to the painting on the wall behind.

You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. The ghost — because what else could he be — holds up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Please, do not be afraid. I mean you no harm.”

His voice is gentle, with a slight accent you can’t quite place. Despite your terror, you find yourself oddly calmed by his presence.

“Who ... what are you?” You manage to whisper.

The ghost bows slightly. “I am Prince Charles of Monaco, at your service. Or at least, I was Prince Charles. Now, I’m not entirely sure what I am.”

You blink, trying to process this information. “Prince Charles? But that’s impossible. The current Prince of Monaco is Albert.”

Charles smiles sadly. “You are correct. I’m afraid my time as prince was cut rather short. I died in 1894.”

“1894,” you repeat, feeling light-headed. “So you’re ... a ghost?”

“It would appear so, yes.” Charles looks down at his translucent hands. “Though I prefer to think of myself as ... temporarily disembodied.”

Despite the absurdity of the situation, you feel a laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Temporarily disembodied? That’s one way to put it.”

Charles’ eyes crinkle with amusement. “I find a touch of humor helps in most situations, even death.”

You shake your head, still struggling to believe what’s happening. “Why can I see you? Why now?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Charles admits. “I’ve been bound to this palace since my death, unable to move on. Most of the time, I’m invisible to the living. But occasionally, someone comes along who can perceive me. You, mon chérie, seem to be one of those rare individuals.”

You take a step closer, fascinated despite your lingering fear. “So all those strange things that have been happening ...”

“My apologies,” Charles says, looking sheepish. “I’m afraid I got a bit ... overeager when I realized you could sense me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Well, mission not accomplished,” you say dryly. “I’ve been terrified for days.”

Charles’ expression turns contrite. “I am truly sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to interact with anyone. I forgot how alarming it might be.”

You study him closely. Now that the initial shock has worn off, you’re struck by how young he looks — no older than his mid-twenties. And there’s a sadness in his eyes that tugs at your heart.

“How did you die?” You ask softly.

Charles’ face clouds over. “That, I’m afraid, is a rather long and complicated story. One that I’m not entirely sure I understand myself.”

You’re about to press further when a noise down the hallway makes you jump. Charles holds a finger to his lips and gestures for you to follow him. He leads you to a hidden door behind a tapestry, revealing a narrow servants’ staircase.

“Quick, in here,” he whispers.

You hesitate for a moment before ducking into the passageway. Charles follows, closing the door behind you. In the dim light filtering through cracks in the wall, you can barely make out his ghostly form.

“Why are we hiding?” You whisper.

“The night guards,” Charles explains. “They wouldn’t take kindly to a guest wandering the halls at this hour. And I’d rather not have to explain why you’re talking to thin air.”

You nod, seeing the logic. “So ... what now?”

Charles gives you a mischievous smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Well, since you’re already up and about, how would you like a private tour of the palace? I can show you things no living guide knows about.”

The sensible part of your brain is screaming that this is insane. You should go back to your room, crawl into bed, and pretend this was all a vivid dream. But the adventurous part of you, the part that’s always longed for magic and mystery, is practically buzzing with excitement.

“Lead the way, Your Highness,” you say with a grin.

Charles’ smile widens. “Please, call me Charles. I think we’re a bit beyond titles at this point.”

He starts up the narrow staircase, and you follow close behind. As you climb, Charles begins to speak in a low, melodious voice.

“This palace has been the heart of Monaco for centuries. Every stone, every timber holds a piece of history. There are secret passages like this one crisscrossing the entire building — escape routes, trysting spots for illicit lovers, hiding places for treasures.”

You emerge from the staircase into a small, circular room at the top of one of the palace towers. The view of Monaco at night is breathtaking, the city a glittering jewel box beneath a canopy of stars.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, moving to the window.

Charles stands beside you, his presence cool but not unpleasant. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Even after all these years, it still takes my breath away. Well, metaphorically speaking.”

You turn to look at him, struck by the wistfulness in his voice. “It must be hard, watching the world change around you while you stay the same.”

Charles nods slowly. “It is ... challenging. But it has its compensations. I’ve witnessed history unfold, seen my beloved Monaco grow and flourish. And occasionally, I get to meet fascinating people like yourself.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and are grateful for the darkness. “I’m hardly fascinating compared to a ghost prince.”

“I beg to differ,” Charles says softly. “You saw me when no one else could. You followed me up here without hesitation. That takes a special kind of courage and openness to the extraordinary.”

For a moment, you’re lost in his intense gaze. Then you remember that he’s, well, dead, and clear your throat awkwardly. “So, um, what else can you show me?”

Charles seems to shake himself out of a reverie. “Ah, yes. Follow me. There’s so much to see.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur of hidden rooms, secret passages, and Charles’ stories. He tells you about the palace’s construction, about the triumphs and tragedies of the Grimaldi family, about the small, everyday moments that history books never record.

As the sky begins to lighten with the first hints of dawn, you find yourself back in the hallway near your suite. You’re exhausted but exhilarated, your mind whirling with everything you’ve seen and learned.

“I suppose I should let you get some rest,” Charles says, a note of reluctance in his voice.

You stifle a yawn. “I suppose so. My friends will be wondering where I am if I’m not there when they wake up.”

Charles nods, then hesitates. “I ... I hope this won’t be our last conversation. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to talk to.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “Of course not. I still have so many questions. Like how you ended up ... you know.”

“Another time,” Charles promises. “For now, sleep well, Y/N.”

As you watch, his form begins to fade. Just before he disappears completely, you could swear you see him wink.

You slip back into your room, your mind racing. As you crawl into bed, you wonder how on earth you’re going to explain any of this to your friends. But one thing’s for certain — your vacation in Monaco just got a whole lot more interesting.

***

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. You stand on the balcony of your suite, outwardly admiring the view, but your mind is elsewhere. Your friends’ voices drift out from the room behind you.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Mia calls. “Are you coming to dinner or what?”

You turn, plastering on a smile. “Actually, I think I’ll skip it tonight. I’m not feeling very hungry.”

Zoe frowns, concern etching her features. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting strange all week.”

“I’m fine,” you assure her quickly. “Just ... taking in all the history of this place, you know?”

Olivia rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Only you would come to Monaco and spend all your time geeking out over old buildings instead of hitting the beach.”

You laugh, but it sounds forced even to your own ears. “What can I say? I contain multitudes.”

As your friends file out of the room, Mia lingers behind. “Seriously, Y/N, is everything alright? You know you can talk to us about anything, right?”

For a moment, you’re tempted to spill everything. But how could you possibly explain Charles? “I’m fine, really,” you insist. “Go enjoy dinner. I’ll see you later.”

Once they’re gone, you wait a few minutes to ensure the coast is clear. Then you slip out into the hallway, your heart racing with anticipation.

You make your way to the library, which has become your usual meeting spot. As you enter, you see Charles materializing near the fireplace, a warm smile lighting up his translucent features.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he greets you, his voice as smooth and rich as aged whiskey. “I trust you’re well?”

You can’t help but smile back. “Better now,” you admit, then immediately feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “I mean, you know, because ... history and stuff.”

Charles chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah yes, the fascinating history and stuff. Shall we delve into more of it tonight?”

You nod eagerly. “What do you have in store for me this time?”

“I thought we might explore the east wing tonight,” Charles says, moving towards one of the bookshelves. “There’s a passage behind this Voltaire that leads to some rather interesting places.”

As he speaks, Charles reaches for the book, his hand passing right through it. A flicker of frustration crosses his face.

“Allow me,” you say softly, stepping forward to pull the book. The shelf swings open, revealing a narrow passageway.

Charles bows slightly. “After you, mademoiselle.”

You enter the passage, Charles’ cool presence right behind you. As you walk, he begins to speak, his voice low and melodious in the confined space.

“This passage was built during the reign of Prince Charles III — my grandfather,” he explains. “It was meant as an escape route in case of invasion. Monaco’s sovereignty was often threatened in those days.”

“But not anymore?” You ask, ducking under a low-hanging beam.

Charles sighs. “Monaco’s position is more secure now, but it wasn’t always so. In my time, we were constantly navigating a delicate balance between France and Italy, trying to maintain our independence.”

You emerge into a small, octagonal room with windows overlooking the sea. Moonlight streams in, casting everything in a silvery glow.

“This was my private study,” Charles says, a note of wistfulness in his voice. “I spent many hours here, dreaming of what Monaco could become.”

You turn to him, curious. “What kind of dreams?”

Charles’ eyes light up with passion. “I wanted to modernize Monaco, to bring it into the new century. We were so dependent on the casino for revenue — I wanted to diversify our economy, improve education, and implement new technologies.”

“That sounds incredibly progressive for the time,” you say, impressed.

Charles nods. “Some thought too progressive. There were those who resisted change, who wanted to cling to the old ways. But I believed — I still believe — that progress is essential for survival.”

As he speaks, you find yourself drawn in by his enthusiasm, his intelligence. This isn’t just some stuffy old royal — this is a man with vision, with dreams that were cut short far too soon.

“What stopped you?” You ask softly.

Charles’ expression clouds over. “Ah, well, dying tends to put a damper on one’s plans.”

You wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no,” Charles interrupts gently. “It’s alright. It was a long time ago.”

An awkward silence falls. You move to the window, looking out at the moonlit sea. “It must be hard,” you say eventually. “Watching the world change around you, unable to participate.”

You feel Charles move closer, his presence cool at your side. “It has its challenges,” he admits. “But it also has its joys. I’ve seen Monaco grow and flourish in ways I never could have imagined. And now ...” He trails off.

You turn to look at him. “And now?”

Charles’ gaze is intense, making your heart race. “And now I have the pleasure of sharing it all with you.”

You swallow hard, acutely aware of how close he is, ghost or not. “I ... I’m glad,” you manage to say. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Charles.”

He smiles, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Nor I you, Y/N. In life or in death.”

The moment stretches between you, charged with unspoken emotions. Then Charles clears his throat (do ghosts need to clear their throats?) and steps back.

“Come,” he says, his tone lighter. “There’s much more to see.”

The rest of the night passes in a whirlwind of secret rooms and hidden treasures. Charles shows you a concealed vault where the crown jewels were once kept, a forgotten ballroom with faded frescoes on the ceiling, even the old dungeons deep beneath the palace.

Throughout it all, Charles regales you with stories — some historical, some personal. You learn about the political intrigues of 19th century Monaco, about Charles’ childhood pranks, about the hopes and fears he had for his country’s future.

As dawn begins to break, you find yourself back in the library, reluctant for the night to end.

“I suppose I should let you get some rest,” Charles says, echoing his words from your first meeting.

You stifle a yawn. “I suppose so. But I don’t want to go.”

Charles’ expression softens. “Nor do I want you to. But your friends will worry if you’re not there when they wake.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right. “Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be here,” Charles promises. “I’m not going anywhere, after all.”

As you watch him fade away, you’re struck by a realization that both thrills and terrifies you. You’re falling in love with a ghost.

The next few days pass in a blur. During the day, you go through the motions with your friends, trying to show enthusiasm for the beaches, the shops, the nightlife. But your mind is always elsewhere, counting down the hours until you can see Charles again.

Your friends notice, of course. How could they not?

“Okay, spill,” Mia demands one afternoon as you all lounge by the pool. “Who is he?”

You nearly choke on your drink. “What? Who’s who?”

Olivia rolls her eyes. “The guy you’re obviously sneaking out to meet every night. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you coming back to the room at dawn.”

“I ... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammer.

Zoe puts a hand on your arm. “Y/N, we’re your friends. You can tell us anything. We’re just worried about you.”

You look at their concerned faces and feel a pang of guilt. You hate lying to them, but how can you possibly explain the truth?

“It’s not ... it’s not what you think,” you say finally. “I’ve just been exploring the palace at night. It’s quieter then, easier to imagine what it was like in the past.”

Your friends exchange skeptical looks.

“Right,” Mia says slowly. “And this has nothing to do with the ‘supernatural occurrences’ you were going on about earlier?”

You force a laugh. “Of course not. That was just my imagination running wild. I’ve just been ... really into the history of this place, that’s all.”

Olivia shakes her head. “If you say so. But Y/N, this is supposed to be a fun vacation. Don’t spend the whole time with your nose in a history book, okay?”

You nod, grateful they’re not pushing further. “You’re right. I’ll try to be more present.”

But that night, as your friends sleep, you find yourself slipping out once again, drawn to Charles like a moth to a flame.

He’s waiting for you in the library, a book hovering open in front of him. As you enter, he looks up with a smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Ah, Y/N,” he says warmly. “I was just refreshing my memory on some of Monaco’s more obscure laws. Did you know it’s technically illegal to wear stiletto heels in the palace?”

You laugh, some of the tension from earlier melting away. “Seriously? Why?”

Charles grins. “Apparently, they damage the floors. It was enacted in 1898, four years after my ... departure. I always wonder about the story behind laws like that. What outrageous incident prompted such a specific prohibition?”

You settle into a nearby armchair, tucking your legs underneath you. “Maybe a scorned lover stabbed someone with a stiletto?”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “My, what a violent imagination you have. I was thinking more along the lines of a clumsy debutante wreaking havoc on the ballroom floor.”

“Boring,” you tease. “My version is much more exciting.”

Charles chuckles, the sound warming you from the inside out. “I suppose I can’t argue with that. Your mind is a constant source of fascination to me.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh? How so?”

Charles moves closer, his form shimmering slightly in the moonlight streaming through the windows. “You see the world in such a unique way. You’re not bound by the conventions and expectations of my time. It’s ... refreshing.”

“I could say the same about you,” you reply softly. “You’re nothing like I would have expected a 19th-century prince to be.”

Charles’ smile turns wry. “Ah, but I’ve had over a century to adapt and learn. Though I must admit, much of modern life still baffles me. Perhaps you could explain to me the appeal of this ‘Instagram’ your friends keep mentioning?”

You laugh, launching into an explanation of social media that leaves Charles looking both intrigued and mildly horrified. The conversation flows easily from there, jumping from topic to topic with the effortless rhythm you’ve come to cherish in your nightly meetings.

As the hours pass, you find yourself moving closer to Charles, drawn in by his warmth (metaphorical, of course — he’s actually quite cool to be near) and charm. You’re acutely aware of every movement, every fleeting expression that crosses his face.

At one point, Charles reaches out as if to touch your hand, then seems to catch himself, pulling back with a flicker of frustration crossing his features.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Sometimes I forget ...”

You swallow hard, your heart aching. “It’s okay. I ... I wish you could too.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with unspoken longing. Charles’ eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the impossibility of your situation crashes over you like a wave.

“Y/N,” Charles begins, his voice rough with emotion. “I-”

But before he can finish, a noise in the hallway makes you both freeze. Footsteps are approaching the library.

“Quick,” Charles whispers urgently. “Hide behind the curtain.”

You scramble to conceal yourself just as the door opens. Through a gap in the heavy fabric, you see a security guard sweep his flashlight around the room.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the beam of light passes inches from your hiding spot. After what feels like an eternity, the guard seems satisfied and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You wait a few more moments before emerging, your legs shaky with leftover adrenaline.

“That was close,” you breathe.

Charles nods, his form flickering with agitation. “Too close. Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting you in these situations. If you were caught ...”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, don’t say that. I don’t care about the risk. Being with you, learning about you and your time — it’s worth it.”

Charles’ expression softens, a mix of affection and sorrow in his eyes. “You’re extraordinary, do you know that? But I fear ... I fear I’m being selfish, keeping you to myself like this.”

You take a step closer to him, wishing more than anything that you could take his hand. “You’re not keeping me anywhere I don’t want to be.”

The words hang between you, charged with meaning. Charles opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it again, conflict clear on his face.

Finally, he says, “It’s nearly dawn. You should go, before your friends wake.”

You nod reluctantly, knowing he’s right but hating to leave. As you reach the door, you turn back to look at him one last time.

“Charles,” you say softly. “I ... I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

He smiles, but there’s a sadness in it that tugs at your heart. “I’ll be here. I’m always here.”

As you make your way back to your room, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions. You’re falling hard and fast for a man who’s been dead for over a century.

It’s impossible, it’s insane, and yet ... you wouldn’t trade these moments with Charles for anything in the world.

But as you slip back into bed, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains, a nagging doubt creeps in. How long can this go on? What happens when your vacation ends? And most troublingly of all — what aren’t you seeing in your infatuation with this charming ghost prince?

***

The musty scent of old books fills your nostrils as you hunch over a stack of historical tomes in the palace library. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. You’ve been here for hours, your friends long since departed for a day of sunbathing and shopping.

“Find anything interesting?” Charles’ voice makes you jump. You look up to see him materializing near the bookshelf, a curious expression on his translucent face.

You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. “Nothing concrete yet. There’s frustratingly little information about your death in these official histories. It’s always just ‘Prince Charles died tragically young’ with no details.”

Charles moves closer, peering at the book you’re reading. “Ah, Gustave Saige’s ‘Monaco: Ses Origines et Son Histoire’. A rather dry read, if I recall correctly.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You’re not wrong. But I thought it might have some clues.” You hesitate, then ask, “Charles, why don’t you just tell me what happened? How you ... died?”

A shadow passes over Charles’ face. “I wish I could. But the truth is, my memories of that time are ... fragmented. I remember tensions rising, arguments with the council, and then ... nothing. Just waking up like this, bound to the palace.”

You reach out instinctively to comfort him, your hand passing through his arm with a chill. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be.”

Charles gives you a sad smile. “It’s been my reality for over a century now. But I must admit, your determination to uncover the truth has given me hope I haven’t felt in a very long time.”

Your heart swells at his words, even as a pang of guilt hits you. Are you really doing this for Charles, or for yourself? The thought of him finding peace and moving on fills you with a complicated mix of emotions you’re not ready to examine too closely.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you turn back to your research. “Well, if these books aren’t giving us answers, maybe we need to look elsewhere. You mentioned arguments with the council. Were there records kept of those meetings?”

Charles’ brow furrows in concentration. “Yes, there would have been. Minutes were always taken. But they would have been considered sensitive documents. Not something you’d find in the public library.”

You lean forward, excitement building. “So where would they be kept?”

“There’s an archive room,” Charles says slowly. “Hidden behind the throne room. It’s where the most confidential state papers were stored.”

You’re already on your feet, shoving books back onto shelves. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Charles holds up a ghostly hand. “Not so fast, Y/N. That room has been sealed for decades. It’s not somewhere a tourist can just wander into.”

You deflate slightly, but your determination doesn’t waver. “Then we’ll have to find a way in after hours. You can get me there, right?”

Charles looks conflicted. “I could, but Y/N, if you were caught ...”

“I won’t be,” you insist. “Please, Charles. This might be our only chance to find out what really happened to you.”

For a long moment, Charles studies your face. Then he sighs, a sound tinged with both resignation and admiration. “Very well. Meet me here at midnight. I’ll show you the way.”

The hours crawl by as you wait for night to fall. You make a show of going to bed early, claiming a headache to avoid your friends’ plans for a night out. As the clock strikes twelve, you slip out of your room and make your way to the library.

Charles is waiting for you, his form glowing faintly in the moonlight. “Are you sure about this?” He asks one last time.

You nod firmly. “Let’s do it.”

Charles leads you through a maze of corridors and hidden passages. Your heart races with every creak of the floorboards, every shadow that might be a security guard. Finally, you arrive at an ornate door hidden behind a tapestry.

“This is it,” Charles whispers. “The archive room.”

You reach for the handle, but it’s locked. “Damn,” you mutter. “Any ideas?”

Charles frowns, concentrating. “There used to be a spare key ... ah!” He points to a small crevice in the intricate woodwork. “Try there.”

You feel around and, to your amazement, your fingers close around a small key. With trembling hands, you insert it into the lock. It turns with a satisfying click.

The door swings open, revealing a room packed floor to ceiling with shelves of documents. The air is thick with dust and the smell of old paper.

“Where do we even start?” You whisper, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information.

Charles moves to a section near the back. “The council records from my time should be here. Look for anything dated 1894.”

You begin sifting through stacks of yellowed papers, careful not to damage the fragile documents. Minutes pass in tense silence as you search.

Suddenly, Charles’ voice cuts through the quiet. “Y/N, over here. I think I’ve found something.”

You hurry to his side. He’s pointing at a leather-bound ledger. You carefully open it, coughing slightly at the dust it raises.

As you scan the pages, your eyes widen. “Charles, this ... this is incredible. It’s a record of council meetings leading up to your death. Look at this entry from two weeks before: ‘Prince Charles continues to push for radical reforms. Concerns raised about stability of the principality if plans proceed.’”

Charles leans in, his face a mix of emotions. “I remember that meeting. It was ... heated. Keep reading.”

You flip through more pages, your heart pounding as the story unfolds. “There’s more. ‘Prince’s proposed changes to casino regulations deemed unacceptable. Alternative measures must be considered.’ Charles, this sounds like ...”

“A conspiracy,” Charles finishes, his voice hollow. “They were plotting against me.”

You reach the final entry, dated the day before Charles’ death. Your blood runs cold as you read it aloud. “Situation untenable. Drastic action required to preserve Monaco’s interests. God forgive us.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as the implications sink in. Charles turns away, his form flickering with agitation.

“They killed me,” he says softly. “My own council ... they murdered me to stop my reforms.”

You feel tears pricking at your eyes. “Charles, I’m so sorry. This is ... it’s unthinkable.”

Charles is quiet for a long moment, then turns back to you with a determined expression. “We need to take this ledger. The truth needs to come out, even after all this time.”

You nod, carefully closing the book and tucking it into your bag. As you do, something catches your eye. “Wait, there’s something else here.”

Behind where the ledger was sitting, you spot a small leather pouch. You open it carefully, gasping as several folded papers and a small object fall out.

“What is it?” Charles asks, moving closer.

You unfold one of the papers with trembling hands. “It’s ... it’s a letter. From you.” You begin to read aloud:

“To whoever finds this, I fear my time may be short. I write this in haste, knowing that forces within Monaco seek to silence me. My efforts to modernize our beloved principality and free us from our dependence on gambling have made me enemies in powerful places. If anything should happen to me, know that it was not an accident. The proof of their treachery is contained within these documents and the vial of poison they intend to use. I pray this never sees the light of day, but if it does, may it bring justice and push Monaco towards the future I envisioned.”

You look up at Charles, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. “You knew. You tried to protect yourself.”

Charles nods slowly, his own eyes shimmering with ghostly tears. “I ... I remember now. I wrote this the night before ... before it happened. I must have hidden it here, hoping someone would find it.”

You carefully gather up the documents and the small vial, adding them to your bag with the ledger. “We have to make this public, Charles. Your murder, the cover-up ... people need to know the truth.”

Charles looks at you with a mix of gratitude and sadness. “You’re right, of course. But Y/N, you must understand what this means. If the truth comes out, if justice is served ...”

“You might be able to move on,” you finish, your voice barely a whisper. The thought sends a dagger through your heart, but you force yourself to continue. “That’s ... that’s a good thing, right? It’s what you’ve been waiting for all this time.”

Charles moves closer, his hand hovering near your cheek as if he could wipe away your tears. “It is. But I find myself reluctant to leave, now that I’ve found something — someone — worth staying for.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Charles, I ...”

Before you can finish, a noise in the hallway makes you both freeze. Footsteps are approaching.

“Quick,” Charles whispers urgently. “Behind that cabinet.”

You scramble to hide, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure it must be audible. The door to the archive room creaks open, and a beam of light sweeps across the space.

“Hello?” A gruff voice calls out. “Is someone in here?”

You hold your breath, pressing yourself further into the shadows. After what feels like an eternity, the guard seems satisfied and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You wait a few more moments before emerging from your hiding spot, legs shaky with adrenaline.

“That was too close,” Charles says, his form flickering with agitation. “We need to get you out of here.”

You nod, clutching your bag with its precious cargo close to your chest. “How do we get back?”

Charles leads you to a hidden panel in the wall. “This passage will take you directly to the guest wing. Hurry, before the guard comes back.”

As you step into the secret corridor, you turn back to look at Charles. “What happens now?” You ask softly.

Charles’ expression is a complex mix of emotions — hope, fear, sadness, and something that looks a lot like love. “Now, mon chérie, we bring the truth to light. Whatever comes after ... we’ll face it together.”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. As you make your way back to your room, your mind races with the implications of what you’ve discovered. You’ve found the key to setting Charles free, to bringing him the peace he’s been denied for over a century.

But as you clutch the bag containing the proof of his murder, you can’t help but wonder: at what cost? The thought of losing Charles, of never seeing his smile or hearing his laugh again, fills you with a grief so profound it takes your breath away.

As you slip back into your bed, the first rays of dawn peeking through the curtains, you know that the hardest part of your journey is yet to come. You’ve uncovered the truth, but now you face an impossible choice: keep Charles with you in this half-life or set him free and lose him forever.

***

The golden light of a Monaco sunset streams through the windows of your hotel suite, casting long shadows across the room. You stand before the mirror, adjusting the elaborate 19th-century gown you’ve rented for the evening’s ball. Your fingers tremble slightly as you fasten a delicate necklace, your mind a whirlwind of emotions.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Charles’ voice comes from behind you. You turn to see him materializing near the balcony, his eyes wide with admiration.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your heart aching at the sight of him. “I wish you could really be there tonight, dancing with me.”

Charles moves closer, his form shimmering in the fading sunlight. “As do I, ma chérie. But I’ll be with you in spirit, if you’ll pardon the expression.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as tears prick at your eyes. “Always with the jokes, even now.”

“Well, one must maintain one’s sense of humor, even in the face of ... impending departure,” Charles says, his light tone belied by the sadness in his eyes.

The word hangs heavy between you. Departure. In just two days, you’ll be leaving Monaco, returning to your life back home. The thought fills you with a grief so profound it’s almost physical.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” you blurt out, the words escaping before you can stop them. “I could stay. I could find a job here, an apartment. We could-”

“Y/N,” Charles interrupts gently, “we’ve discussed this. You can’t put your life on hold for a ghost.”

You turn away, blinking back tears. “But what if I want to? What if being here, with you, is the life I want?”

Charles is quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “My dearest Y/N, you cannot imagine how much I wish things could be different. But I am tied to this place, to this half-existence. You have a whole life ahead of you, full of possibilities and adventures. I won’t let you sacrifice that for me.”

You whirl back to face him, frustration bubbling up. “Shouldn’t that be my choice to make?”

“Perhaps,” Charles concedes. “But it is also my choice to refuse to be the anchor that holds you back. You deserve so much more than stolen moments with a specter.”

The truth of his words cuts deep, even as you want to rail against them. You slump onto the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling the weight of your elaborate costume.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whisper.

Charles moves to sit beside you, the mattress not even dipping under his non-existent weight. “Nor I you. But perhaps ... perhaps this is why we found each other. Not for a lifetime, but for this moment. To bring truth to light, to right an old wrong, and to experience a love that transcends time itself.”

You look up at him, struck by the depth of emotion in his ghostly eyes. “When did you get so wise?”

Charles grins, a hint of his usual mischief returning. “Well, I have had over a century to work on my philosophical musings.”

You can’t help but laugh, even as a tear escapes down your cheek. Charles reaches out, his hand hovering just above your skin in a gesture of comfort.

“Come now,” he says gently. “Let’s not waste our last evening together in sorrow. You have a ball to attend, and I, for one, am eager to see how the modern world interprets the grandeur of my era.”

You nod, standing and giving yourself one last look in the mirror. “You’re right. Let’s make tonight a night to remember.”

As you make your way down to the grand ballroom, you can feel Charles’ presence beside you, a comforting coolness in the warm evening air. The sounds of music and laughter grow louder as you approach.

You pause at the entrance, taking in the transformed space. The ballroom has been decorated to recreate its 19th-century splendor, with crystal chandeliers, elaborate floral arrangements, and guests in period costumes whirling across the dance floor.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

“Indeed,” Charles agrees, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “Though I must say, some of these costumes are rather ... creative interpretations of the fashion of my time.”

You stifle a giggle as you spot a guest in what appears to be a mash-up of Victorian and Edwardian styles. “Well, not everyone can have a ghostly fashion consultant.”

You make your way into the crowd, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Your friends spot you and wave enthusiastically.

“Y/N! Over here!” Mia calls out. “You look amazing!”

You join them, smiling as you take in their costumes. “You all look great too. Are you enjoying the ball?”

Zoe nods enthusiastically. “It’s like stepping back in time. Can you imagine living in an era like this?”

You feel Charles’ amusement radiating beside you. “Oh, I don’t know,” you say airily. “I think it might have its charms.”

As the evening progresses, you find yourself swept up in the festivities. You dance with several partners, all the while acutely aware of Charles’ presence, watching from the sidelines.

During a lull in the music, you manage to slip away from the crowd, finding a secluded alcove near one of the large windows.

“Having fun?” Charles asks, materializing beside you.

You nod, a bit breathless from dancing. “It’s wonderful. But I wish ...”

“You wish I could truly be here,” Charles finishes for you. He holds out his hand in an old-fashioned gesture. “Well, my lady, may I have this dance?”

You glance around, making sure no one is watching, then place your hand over his incorporeal one. As the music starts up again, a slow, romantic waltz, you begin to move together.

It’s a strange sensation, dancing with a ghost. You can’t feel Charles’ hand on your waist or his fingers intertwined with yours, but somehow, you move in perfect synchronization. For a few precious moments, it’s as if the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you, swaying to the music.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Charles’ eyes widen, then soften with an emotion so deep it takes your breath away. “And I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible.”

As you gaze into each other’s eyes, lost in the moment, a sudden chill sweeps through the room. The lights flicker, and a murmur of confusion ripples through the crowd.

Charles stiffens, his form becoming more translucent. “Something’s wrong,” he mutters, looking around warily.

Before you can ask what he means, a commotion breaks out near the center of the ballroom. Guests are backing away from a spot on the dance floor, pointing and gasping in shock.

You push your way through the crowd, Charles right behind you. As you reach the cleared space, your blood runs cold. Three ghostly figures have appeared, dressed in outdated formal wear, their faces contorted with rage and fear.

“Impossible,” Charles breathes beside you. “It’s them. The council members who ... who murdered me.”

As if hearing his words, the three ghosts turn towards you. Their eyes widen in recognition as they spot Charles.

“You!” One of them snarls, his voice echoing unnaturally in the stunned silence of the ballroom. “How are you here?”

Charles steps forward, his own form becoming more visible to the shocked onlookers. “I could ask you the same question, Lord Beaumont. Or should I say, murderer?”

A collective gasp runs through the crowd. Hotel staff are rushing about, trying to maintain order, but everyone’s attention is fixed on the supernatural drama unfolding before them.

“We did what was necessary,” another ghost, a portly man with a walrus mustache, blusters. “You would have ruined Monaco with your radical ideas!”

“Ruined?” Charles’ voice rises in indignation. “I was trying to save our principality, to secure its future beyond the whims of fortune and gambling!”

The third ghost, a thin man with a pinched face, sneers. “And in doing so, you would have destroyed the very thing that made Monaco unique. We couldn’t allow it.”

You find your voice, anger overcoming your fear. “So you murdered him? Your own prince?”

The ghosts turn their baleful gazes on you. “And who are you to question the affairs of state from a century past?” Lord Beaumont demands.

“She,” Charles says, moving to stand beside you, “is the one who uncovered your treachery. The proof of your crimes has been found.”

A murmur runs through the crowd. You see hotel management huddled in a corner, speaking urgently into phones. In the distance, you can hear police sirens approaching.

“It doesn’t matter now,” the portly ghost says dismissively. “We’re long dead, beyond the reach of earthly justice.”

“Perhaps,” you counter, your voice stronger than you feel. “But the truth will be known. History will remember Prince Charles as the visionary he was, and you as the small-minded murderers who cut his life short.”

As you speak, a strange energy begins to build in the room. The three ghosts start to flicker, their forms becoming less substantial.

“What’s happening?” The thin ghost cries out, panic in his voice.

Charles steps forward, his expression a mix of pity and righteousness. “You’re facing judgment at last, gentlemen. Your unfinished business is complete. The truth is out.”

With a howl of despair, the three ghosts begin to fade away. In moments, they’ve vanished completely, leaving behind a stunned silence.

As the implications of what’s just happened sink in, chaos erupts in the ballroom. People are shouting, phones are out recording, and security is trying desperately to maintain order.

But you only have eyes for Charles. His form is starting to shimmer, becoming more translucent by the second.

“Charles,” you gasp, reaching for him. “What’s happening? Are you ...”

He looks down at his fading hands, then back up at you with a sad smile. “It seems my unfinished business is complete as well. The truth is out, justice, in some form, has been served.”

“No,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “Please, not yet. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

Charles moves closer, his hand hovering just above your cheek. “My dearest Y/N, meeting you has been the greatest gift. You’ve brought light to my long darkness, and given me peace I never thought I’d find.”

“I don’t want you to go,” you sob, your heart breaking.

“Nor do I wish to leave you,” Charles says softly. “But perhaps this isn’t truly goodbye. I don’t know what lies beyond, but I do know this — a love like ours transcends time and death itself. Somehow, someway, I believe we’ll find each other again.”

You manage a watery smile. “You promise?”

“I swear it,” Charles vows. He leans in, and for the briefest moment, you swear you can feel the ghost of a kiss on your lips. “Until we meet again, mon amour.”

And with that, Charles fades away completely, leaving behind nothing but a lingering chill in the air and the memory of a love that defied all boundaries.

As the commotion swirls around you, police and hotel management trying to make sense of what’s happened, you stand still in the center of it all. Your heart is breaking, but there’s also a sense of peace, of completion.

You touch your lips, still feeling the echo of that impossible kiss, and whisper to the empty air, “Until we meet again, Charles.”

In that moment, surrounded by the trappings of a bygone era and the chaos of the present, you know that your life has been forever changed. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it with the strength and love Charles gave you, carrying his memory in your heart until, somehow, someway, you find each other once more.

***

The Mediterranean sun bathes Monaco in a warm glow as you climb the steps to the Palais Grimaldi. Five years have passed since that fateful summer, but your heart still quickens as you approach the familiar facade. You adjust the strap of your messenger bag, filled with research materials for your graduate thesis on 19th-century Monégasque politics.

As you enter the palace, now partly converted into a museum, you’re struck by how much has changed. Plaques and displays line the halls, detailing the history of the Grimaldi family. But your eyes are drawn to a new addition: a whole wing dedicated to Prince Charles and his progressive vision for Monaco.

You pause before a large portrait of Charles, your breath catching in your throat. The artist has captured his piercing green eyes perfectly, that hint of mischief in his smile that you remember so well.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” A voice beside you says, startling you from your reverie. “How much history these walls have seen.”

You turn, a polite response on your lips, but the words die in your throat. Standing next to you is a young man who could be Charles’ twin. The same wavy dark hair, the same chiseled jawline, and most strikingly, those same intense green eyes.

For a moment, you forget how to breathe. “Charles?” You whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

The young man looks at you curiously, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, yes, but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Have we met before?”

You blink rapidly, reality reasserting itself. Of course this isn’t your Charles. It can’t be. You clear your throat, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, you just ... you look remarkably like someone I used to know. I’m Y/N.”

The young man’s smile widens, and he holds out his hand. “Charles Leclerc. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You shake his hand, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity that runs through you at his touch. “Leclerc? As in the Formula 1 driver?”

Charles nods, looking slightly sheepish. “The very same. Though today I’m just a tourist like anyone else, enjoying a bit of home between races.”

“Home?” You ask, intrigued despite yourself.

“Born and raised in Monaco,” Charles explains. “Though I admit, I haven’t spent as much time in the palace as I perhaps should have. It’s quite fascinating, especially this new exhibit.”

You nod, turning back to the portrait of Prince Charles. “It really is. The prince was quite a remarkable figure. His ideas were so ahead of their time.”

Charles steps closer, studying the portrait. “You seem to know a lot about him. Are you a historian?”

“A graduate student,” you explain. “I’m here on a research grant, studying 19th-century Monégasque politics at the International University of Monaco.”

Charles’ eyes light up with interest. “Really? That sounds fascinating. I’ve always been interested in history, especially the history of Monaco. It’s a small place, but it’s played such an outsized role in European affairs.”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “It really has. Prince Charles, in particular, had some revolutionary ideas about diversifying Monaco’s economy beyond just gambling. If he hadn’t died so young, who knows how things might have turned out?”

A shadow passes over Charles’ face. “Yes, his death was quite tragic. And mysterious, from what I understand. Wasn’t there some recent discovery about the circumstances?”

You nod, your heart racing as you remember that night five years ago. “Yes, documents were found that suggested he was actually assassinated by members of his own council who opposed his reforms.”

Charles shakes his head, looking troubled. “How terrible. To be betrayed by those closest to you, all for wanting to make positive changes.”

“It was a different time,” you say softly. “Change is always frightening to those in power.”

Charles nods thoughtfully. “True, but it’s also necessary for growth. Monaco has come a long way since then, but I sometimes wonder if we couldn’t be doing more to realize Prince Charles’ vision.”

You look at him in surprise. “That’s ... that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking in my research. The prince had ideas about sustainable development and diversifying the economy that are still relevant today.”

Charles grins, and for a moment, the resemblance to your Charles is so strong it takes your breath away. “Great minds think alike, it seems. You know, I’ve been looking for ways to use my platform as an athlete to promote positive change in Monaco. Perhaps we could compare notes sometime?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I’d like that,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m always happy to discuss history with someone who’s genuinely interested.”

“Excellent,” Charles says, pulling out his phone. “Why don’t we exchange numbers? We could meet for coffee and continue this conversation.”

As you input your number into his phone, you can’t help but notice a small charm dangling from it — a miniature racing helmet. “That’s cute,” you comment.

Charles looks at it and chuckles. “Ah, yes. It was a gift from my mother. She says it’s for luck, but I think she just worries about me on the track.”

The casual mention of his mother sends a pang through your heart. This Charles is very much alive, with a family and a life of his own. You have to remind yourself that he’s not the same person you knew, no matter how similar he might seem.

“Well, it seems to be working,” you say lightly. “You’ve had quite a successful season so far. Won your home race, if I’m not mistaken.”

Charles looks pleased. “You follow Formula 1?”

You shake your head. “Not really, but it’s hard to miss the news when you’re living in Monaco. The Grand Prix is quite an event.”

“That it is,” Charles agrees. “You know, if you’re interested, I could give you a behind-the-scenes tour of the circuit sometime. It’s quite fascinating from a historical perspective as well. The race has been run on essentially the same streets since 1929.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Are you always this charming with strangers you meet in museums?”

Charles grins, a mischievous glint in his eye that’s achingly familiar. “Only the ones who can discuss 19th-century political reform with such passion.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Well, in that case, how can I refuse? A tour sounds lovely.”

As you continue to chat, moving through the exhibit, you’re struck by how easy it is to talk to Charles. He’s knowledgeable and curious, asking insightful questions about your research and offering his own perspectives on Monaco’s history and future.

At one point, you pause before a display showcasing some of Prince Charles’ personal effects. Among them is a small, ornate pocket watch.

“Beautiful craftsmanship,” Charles comments, leaning in for a closer look.

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you remember your Charles checking a similar watch during your midnight explorations. “It’s a shame it’s not working anymore.”

Charles tilts his head, studying the watch intently. “Actually, I think it is. Look closely at the second hand.”

You peer into the display case, and to your amazement, you see the tiny hand ticking away steadily. “You’re right! How did you notice that?”

Charles shrugs, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’ve always had a thing for timepieces. Comes with the racing territory, I suppose. Hundreths of a second are everything on the track.”

You shake your head in wonder. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I try to keep things interesting,” Charles says with a wink. Then his expression turns more serious. “You know, it’s strange. Being here, learning about Prince Charles ... I feel an odd connection to him. Almost as if I knew him somehow.”

Your heart races at his words. Could it be possible? You push the thought away, reminding yourself that such things only happen in fairy tales. “Well, he is your ancestor, in a way. All Monégasques are connected to the Grimaldi family, aren’t they?”

Charles nods slowly. “True, but this feels different. When I look at his portrait, it’s almost like looking in a mirror. And his ideas, his passion for progress ... it resonates with me in a way I can’t quite explain.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe some things are just meant to be. Some connections transcend time.”

Charles looks at you intently, and for a moment, you swear you see a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s a comforting thought, isn’t it? That the past isn’t really gone, just ... waiting to be rediscovered.”

You’re saved from having to respond by the chiming of the palace clock, signaling the approach of closing time.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late,” you say, glancing at your watch. “I should probably get going. I have a meeting with my advisor in the morning.”

Charles nods, looking slightly disappointed. “Of course. But we’re still on for that coffee and circuit tour, right?”

You smile, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it.”

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Charles touches your arm lightly. “Y/N, I know this might sound strange, but ... I feel like we were meant to meet today. Like some force in the universe brought us together.”

You look into his eyes, so familiar and yet new, and feel a spark of hope ignite in your heart. “I know exactly what you mean.”

He smiles, and in that moment, you see not just the Charles of the present, but echoes of the Charles you knew and loved. “Until we meet again, then?”

The phrase, so similar to your Charles’ last words, sends a shiver down your spine. “Until then,” you agree softly.

As you walk out of the palace and into the warm Monaco evening, your mind is whirling. You can’t shake the feeling that something extraordinary has happened, that a promise made long ago is somehow being fulfilled.

You pause at the top of the steps, looking back at the palace that has played such a pivotal role in your life. As the setting sun gilds the stone facade, you allow yourself to imagine, just for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, some loves really are strong enough to transcend time and death itself.

With a smile on your face and hope in your heart, you descend the steps, ready to embrace whatever new adventure awaits. After all, in a world where ghosts can fall in love and centuries-old mysteries can be solved, anything seems possible.

And, as the promise of a new beginning beckons, you can’t help but feel that the best chapters of your story are yet to be written.

***

The sun-drenched streets of Monaco buzz with excitement as Sofia, a die-hard Scuderia Ferrari fan, makes her way towards the Palais Grimaldi. Her red Ferrari cap and matching team shirt make her stand out among the tourists, but she doesn’t mind. She’s here on a mission: to soak up every bit of Monaco’s rich racing history.

As Sofia enters the palace-turned-museum, her eyes widen in awe at the opulent surroundings. “Wow,” she breathes, spinning slowly to take it all in. “Talk about living like royalty.”

She wanders through the exhibits, pausing occasionally to read plaques or admire artifacts. But her mind keeps drifting to thoughts of sleek racing cars and the roar of engines. That is, until she rounds a corner and comes face to face with a large portrait that stops her in her tracks.

“No way,” Sofia mutters, stepping closer to the painting. Her brow furrows as she studies the face of the young prince depicted. “That’s ... that’s impossible.”

Just then, a tour group passes by, led by an enthusiastic guide. Sofia catches snippets of the commentary.

“... Prince Charles, one of Monaco’s most progressive rulers ...”

“... tragically died young under mysterious circumstances ...”

“... recent discoveries suggest he may have been assassinated ...”

Sofia’s head is spinning. She pulls out her phone, quickly pulling up a photo of Charles Leclerc, her favorite driver. She holds it up next to the portrait, her jaw dropping at the uncanny resemblance.

“Excuse me,” she says, tapping the tour guide on the shoulder. “This Prince Charles, when exactly did he live?”

The guide smiles, always happy to share historical tidbits. “Prince Charles ruled briefly in the late 19th century. He died in 1894 at the young age of 26.”

Sofia’s mind races. “And has anyone ever noticed how much he looks like Charles Leclerc? The F1 driver?”

The guide’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Ah, you’re not the first to notice that similarity. It’s become quite a popular topic of discussion lately. Some even joke that Leclerc is the prince reincarnated.”

Sofia laughs nervously. “Right, of course. Just a coincidence, I’m sure.”

As the tour moves on, Sofia remains rooted to the spot, her eyes darting between her phone and the portrait. It’s more than just a passing resemblance. The shape of the eyes, the curve of the jaw, even the hint of a mischievous smile — it’s all pure Leclerc.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice someone approaching until a voice beside her says, “Fascinating portrait, isn’t it?”

Sofia jumps, turning to see a young woman standing next to her. The newcomer is dressed casually in a flowing sundress, a messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

“Oh, um, yes,” Sofia stammers. “It’s quite ... striking.”

The woman smiles knowingly. “Let me guess. You couldn’t help but notice the resemblance to a certain Formula 1 driver?”

Sofia’s eyes widen. “You see it too? I thought I was going crazy!”

The woman laughs, a warm, genuine sound. “Trust me, you’re not crazy. I’m Y/N, by the way. I’m doing some research here for my graduate thesis.”

“Sofia,” she replies, shaking your hand. “So, what’s the deal? Is Leclerc secretly a time-traveling prince or something?”

You chuckle, but there’s a strange look in your eyes that Sofia can’t quite decipher. “I’m afraid the explanation is probably much more mundane. Many Monégasques have some connection to the Grimaldi family. It’s likely just a case of strong genes persisting through the generations.”

Sofia nods, but she’s not entirely convinced. There’s something about the way you’re looking at the portrait, a mix of fondness and melancholy, that piques her curiosity.

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Sofia probes gently. “Are you a big history buff?”

You smile, turning away from the portrait. “You could say that. I’ve been studying Prince Charles and his era for my thesis. It’s a fascinating period in Monaco’s history.”

Sofia’s about to ask more when she notices someone approaching over your shoulder. Her eyes go wide, and she has to stifle a gasp.

You turn to see what’s caught her attention, and your face lights up. “Charles! I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

Sofia’s jaw drops as Charles Leclerc himself joins you, greeting you with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. He’s dressed casually in jeans and an oversized hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, but there’s no mistaking that face — especially not when it’s right next to the portrait of his doppelganger.

“I had some free time between meetings and thought I’d stop by,” Charles explains. “How’s the research going?”

You launch into an explanation of your latest findings, and Sofia watches in fascination as Charles listens intently, asking insightful questions and offering his own thoughts. It’s clear this is far from the first time they’ve discussed the topic.

Finally, Charles seems to notice Sofia’s presence. “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Sofia manages to close her mouth, which had been hanging open in shock. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m Sofia. I’m a huge fan, Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles grins, shaking her hand. “Please, call me Charles. Always nice to meet a tifosa.”

Sofia gestures weakly to the portrait. “I was just ... I mean ... has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like ...”

Charles and you exchange a look that Sofia can’t quite interpret. Then Charles turns back to her with a wry smile. “Once or twice, yes. It’s quite the coincidence, isn’t it?”

Sofia nods, still feeling like she’s stepped into some kind of twilight zone. “Coincidence. Right.”

You clear your throat, seemingly eager to change the subject. “So, Sofia, are you here on vacation?”

Grateful for the change of topic, Sofia launches into an enthusiastic description of her plans for the next week. As they chat, she can’t help but notice the way Charles and you interact — the casual touches, the inside jokes, the way your eyes continually find each other. There’s clearly a deep connection there.

At one point, Charles excuses himself to take a phone call. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sofia turns to you with wide eyes. “Okay, you have to tell me. What’s the real story here? How long have you two been together?”

You laugh, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. “Is it that obvious? We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. We met right here, actually, in front of this very portrait.”

Sofia’s romantic heart melts a little at that. “That’s so sweet! But come on, you have to admit, the resemblance is freaky. And the way you two were talking about history ... it’s like he lived it or something.”

You get that strange look in your eyes again, a mix of secrecy and wonder. “Charles has always had a deep connection to Monaco’s past. It’s one of the things that drew us together.”

Sofia’s about to press for more details when Charles returns, slipping his arm around your waist with casual familiarity.

“I hate to cut this short,” he says apologetically, “but I’ve got to run to a sponsor meeting. Y/N, we’re still on for dinner tonight?”

You nod, smiling up at him. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll see you at eight.”

As Charles says his goodbyes and leaves, Sofia watches him go with a mix of admiration and lingering confusion. She turns back to you, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

“Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy,” Sofia starts, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “but is there any chance ... I mean, has anyone ever considered the possibility that Charles might be, I don’t know, the reincarnation of Prince Charles or something?”

You pause for a long moment, and Sofia holds her breath, half-expecting you to laugh in her face. But instead, you give her a small, enigmatic smile.

“The universe works in mysterious ways,” you say softly. “Sometimes, the past has a way of coming back to us in forms we least expect. Who’s to say what’s possible and what isn’t?”

Sofia’s mind reels at the implications. “So you’re saying ...”

You hold up a hand, your expression turning more serious. “I’m not saying anything definitively. But I will say this: getting to know Charles — the Charles of today — has been like rediscovering a part of history I thought was lost forever. Whether that’s due to reincarnation, cosmic coincidence, or just the magic of human connection, I can’t say for sure. But I do know that it feels like a second chance at something extraordinary.”

Sofia listens, enthralled. It’s like something out of a movie or a romance novel. “That’s ... wow. I don’t even know what to say.”

You laugh, the sound tinged with wonder. “Trust me, I know the feeling. Life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.”

As you chat a bit more, Sofia can’t help but feel like she’s been let in on some grand secret. The way you talk about Charles, about history, about the strange twists of fate — it’s all so fantastical and yet, standing here in the shadow of that eerily familiar portrait, she can’t quite bring herself to disbelieve it entirely.

Finally, you glance at your watch and sigh. “I should get going. I’ve got to prepare for dinner soon. It was lovely meeting you, Sofia.”

Sofia nods, still feeling slightly dazed. “You too. And ... thanks. For sharing all of that. It’s given me a lot to think about.”

You smile warmly. “Just keep an open mind. You never know what kind of magic you might encounter, especially in a place like Monaco.”

As you leave, Sofia turns back to the portrait of Prince Charles. She studies it intently, trying to reconcile the historical figure with the modern-day race driver she admires so much.

“Second chances,” she murmurs to herself. “Who’d have thought?”

With one last look at the portrait, Sofia continues her tour of the museum. But now, every artifact seems to pulse with new significance. The weight of history feels more present than ever, intertwining with the present in ways she never could have imagined.

As she steps out of the museum and into the bright Monaco sunshine, Sofia finds herself looking at the city with new eyes. The sleek modern buildings and ancient narrow streets no longer seem at odds, but part of a continuous, living history.

She thinks of Charles Leclerc, of the mysterious Y/N, of a long-dead prince whose legacy seems to echo through time. And as she makes her way towards the harbor, where she knows the Monaco circuit snakes through the city streets, Sofia can’t help but feel that she’s stumbled upon a story far greater and more magical than any single victory.

With a smile on her face and a newfound appreciation for the mysteries of the universe, Sofia sets off to explore more of Monaco. After all, in a place where princes can become race drivers and love can transcend time itself, who knows what other wonders she might discover?

[intoxicatingimmediacy]

Daveed Diggs, Mason Gooding, Chase Sui Wonders, Johnny Knoxville & Margaret Cho Round Out Cast Of Gregg Araki’s ‘I Want Your Sex’

EXCLUSIVE: Daveed Diggs (Nickel Boys), Mason Gooding (Scream), Chase Sui Wonders (Bodies Bodies Bodies), Johnny Knoxville (Jackass), and stand-up comedian and actress Margaret Cho (All That We Love) will round out the cast of I Want Your Sex, Gregg Araki’s Black Bear thriller starring Olivia Wilde, Cooper Hoffman and Charli XCX, which has wrapped production in Los Angeles. Details as to the roles to be played by the quintet are under wraps. A provocative film blithely exploring desire, domination, and fantasy, I Want Your Sex asks, how far is too far? When fresh-faced Elliot (Hoffman) lands an exciting job for renowned artist, icon and provocateur Erika Tracy (Wilde), his fantasies come true as Erika taps him to become her sexual muse. But Elliot soon finds himself out of his depth as Erika takes him on a journey more profound than he ever could have imagined, into a world of sex, obsession, power, betrayal and murder.

[nycityfm]

DAKOTA  LIU  (  CHASE  SUI  WONDERS  )  is  searching  for  their  ex  boyfriend,     they are said to look like;     any  suitable  fc  (  25–28  )  ,  fc  of  colour  preferred.     you  DO  need  to  contact  @hirised  before  applying,     but  a  little  about  the  connection  is;   

kota  is  a  musician  /  singer-songwriter  who  has  been  writing  bedroom  pop  /  alternative  music  for  years  (  think  olivia  rodrigo  circa  guts  )  ,  but  has  only  had  the  viral  uproar  of  her  music  in  the  last  year  or  so  ,  catapulting  her  into  found  fame  and  mixing  with  similar  crowds  .  this  is  where  y/m  comes  into  play*  !  they  both  had  some  sort  of  tumultuous  relationship  to  begin  with  ,  and  kota  very  explicitly  (  and  hardly  subtly:  see  get  him  back!  ,  bad  idea  right?  ,  vampire  for  inspiration  )  used  him  for  inspo  for  their  newest  release  .  this  also  creates  problems  and  speculation  for  who  the  person  is  ,  and  could  make  a  fun  dynamic  of  kota  remaining  angry  at  him  for  whatever  happened  in  their  relationship  –  it  could  come  from  either  side  ,  too  !  they’re  not  entirely  innocent  in  all  of  it  either  .  i’m  happy  to  talk  more  about  it  in  the  ims  /  what  kind  of  vibe  i’m  entirely  looking  for  with  their  past  ,  present  and  possible  future  !  *  i’d  imagine  that  he’s  in  the  public  eye  ,  but  of  course  that  much  is  up  to  you  !

[r2in2p]

*Y/N in therapy* Dr. Raynor: So Y/N, where do you see yourself in like five years? Y/N, shyly speaking: Well, I hope I'm happily married to Wanda, and I hope I defeat ISIS. Dr. Raynor, now writing something in her notebook: Oh, so aside from your attachment issues, you're also delusional. *proceeds to drink her coffee* Y/N: Fuck, like, which part? Dr. Raynor: *chokes on her coffee*

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Beaches and Bonfires

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (ungendered) Synopsis: This ficlet was written as a part of my 1000 Follower Celebration and arguably took me WAY too long, but I really hope that @mychemicalsleep likes it :) They asked for soft, fluffy bonfire cuteness. Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Established Relationship, Teasing, Kissing, PDA Rating: General/Teen Author’s Note: I don't have a whole lot more to add, but this is cute and features brief mentions of his IRL friends and TONY! I know how we all like the Tony O'Brien content ;)

The sand was warm between your toes above the tideline as you watched Dylan splash through the shallow flood of the waves that washed over the beach with Tony. The sun hung low over the horizon, vibrant pink as it set into the sea. You’d spent most of the afternoon playing in the water with them, sitting under the shade of a well-placed umbrella after soaking in the California sun long enough to know that tomorrow you’d be sporting more than just a healthy glow.

You two were meeting friends in the evening for a bonfire, and Dylan had suggested that you head to the shore a little early. It had been too long since the two had taken time away from it all. Phone screens had been locked all day, tucked into one of his shoes and hidden under a towel, forgotten and unnecessary.

“Babe! Come on!” Dylan waved you toward them as Tony jumped up at his knees. Dylan was back peddling away from him, cooing at him in that adorable way any proud father would. 

You smiled and followed them until Tony noticed your footfalls and spun around to run toward you. He lept at you, pawing at your thighs until you picked him up. He was wet and sandy in your arms as he lapped at your chin, panting and excited. 

“Hey, boy,” Dylan said, walking toward you, flipping his hat around until it sat backward on his head. “That’s my job.” He smirked at you as he reached out to cup your shoulders before he leaned in close to kiss you. 

His lips were soft, and the hint of salty seaspray on his skin only made the kiss even more intoxicating. His hand roamed up to the side of your throat, his fingers toying a bit with the damp, wavy ends of your hair. When you finally felt his lips slip from yours, the admiration and love for you were clear in his gaze, even through the tint of his sunglasses. 

“We should head over,” he said before he pinned his lip between his teeth for a moment, his gaze shifting to your lips. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, setting Tony back in the sand before you stood in front of him again. “Probably…” you agreed, stepping into his space and looping your arm around his waist, enjoying the way the heat of his skin felt on yours before your hand slid down his back until you had his ass in the palm of your hand. 

“Oh ho!” he laughed, brushing your hair back from your shoulder, a wide smirk on his lips. “Other plans, huh?” he asked, wetting his lips with his tongue. 

“What are the exact parameters of ‘fashionably late’?” you teased, squeezing your hand. 

He winced, a playful smile baring his teeth for a moment before he spoke. “You mean before it’s ‘those assholes are late’?” 

“Mmm,” you nodded, your gaze fixed on his mesmerizing mouth. 

“Well…” he said, craning his neck back a bit as he knitted his hands together at your low back as you hooked your fingers into the pockets of his shorts. “Sarah said sunset…” he turned his head, looking out over the water at the tiny sliver of the sun that hadn’t yet tucked itself behind the waves. 

You slumped a bit in his arms. “Fine…” you whined. 

He chuckled a bit before Tony let out a little bark at his heel. “Alright, little man! We’re goin’...” Dylan kissed your forehead and let you out of his hold before he took your hand in his. 

You gathered up your things from the beach and took them to the car. The two of you made the short drive down the road along the coast until you saw a small streak of smoke rising from the sand. Several cars were parked in the small dirt lot in the little seaside treasure you and your friends had named ‘The Hideaway’. It was tucked into a smaller cove near the larger, more well-known beach where you’d spent the day. There was a narrow sand beach, tall grass, and wildflowers, and just down the bank, surrounded by large pieces of gathered driftwood, a smoldering campfire rippled the air above it. 

“Hey!” Sarah called as the two of you climbed down over the rocks to the beach, Dylan carrying Tony in his arms. 

“Hey!” he said, smiling as he set Tony down in the sand, letting him rush to Sarah.

“Hey, Tony!” she said, squatting down to pet the excited pup. “So glad you guys could come tonight!” She smiled at you, leaning around Tony, who was lapping at her cheeks. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you said.

“Fine with being late though…” Dylan said under his breath before you elbowed him and he slid his sunglasses down his nose to smirk at you. 

“Smells awesome! What’s roasting?” Dylan asked, taking your hand and walking toward the rest of your friends. 

“Matt’s got some sausages going, and I think there might be a few potatoes baking in there somewhere.” She smiled, watching Dylan, who was practically drooling. “Hungry?” 

“You could say that…” he replied, walking up to pat Matt on the shoulder and pull him into a quick hug. The two of them started to chat, and you turned to Sarah. 

“He may have claimed he was ready to eat the headrest in the car on the way over here.” 

She laughed and then gave you a solid hug. “I brought enough food to feed a small army, so your upholstery should be safe.”

You spent the next couple of hours eating and chatting, laughing and sharing stories before you split off into smaller groups. Sheela and Olivia were dancing in the sand near the fire, recording a TikTok with Sam's help. Matt and Logan were talking with Anna and Sarah, and the two of you had made your way to a blanket spread out on the sand under the stars. 

Dylan sat propped up on an elbow, his legs stretched out in front of him, turned facing you. Tony was curled up behind his knees sleeping. Dylan rubbed his hand over his stomach. 

“Full?” you asked, smiling up at him. You were lying on your back with his folded sweatshirt tucked under your head. 

He nodded, puffing out his cheeks. “Stuffed.” 

You laughed softly, admiring his features before the night sky behind him caught your eye. The stars were actually visible this far from the city, even brighter on this moonless night, and they sprayed across the inky black. You folded a hand behind your head and enjoyed the view. 

“Beautiful…” Dylan said quietly. 

“Aren’t they?” you said, tilting your head back to see more of the Milky Way’s mist.

“I wasn’t talking about the stars…” he whispered, reaching out to tuck an errant hair behind your ear. 

You turned your attention back to him, to the soft smile on his face, to the way his eyes glinted in the flicker of the firelight. 

He leaned in closer and cupped your cheek in his hand, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushed against yours. His lips met yours, soft and slow, but he liked kissing and he was rarely satisfied with just a peck. Kisses weren’t something he rushed. They were never perfunctory. He kissed with purpose.

You softened under his touch every time. It was like he was dosing you with a muscle relaxant. Tension eased from your shoulders and you were pliant in his hold. His smooth lips and respectful but rather insistent tongue never struggled to get what they wanted, because you wanted it too. 

He leaned over you, looming above you before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you tight to his chest deepening your kiss. The satisfied sound of a reverently exhaled breath into your mouth had you whimpering against his lips. 

You slipped your hand under his loose-fitting tee and palmed the heat of his back, feeling his muscles tense under your fingertips when you dragged at his skin with your nails. 

A few wolf whistles preceded a call out from Sam, “holy PDA! Damn!”

Your cheeks flushed with the heat of embarrassment. You two had lost yourself in one another, so easy to forget you weren’t alone when you’re under the influence of the other. You felt Dylan smile against your lips before he pulled back and looked behind you at your friends. 

“Hey, Lerner?” Dylan asked, his long neck stretched out in front of you looking so irresistible it took all the self-control you had not to latch onto it.

“What’s up?” 

He held a finger to his lips and hushed his friend like he was reprimanding a child before he flashed a wink and turned back to you. “Where were we?”

[sweetdreamsshifter]

Hey guys! Please, please, PLEASE send in requests! I'm in desperate need for writing time, but I have no inspiration. Here's the people/characters I'll write for that I can think of. If someone isn't on the list, just ask, and I'll try to deliver! I'll possibly post a prompt list as well.

WHAT I WON'T WRITE: SMUT, ABUSE, PEDOPHILIA, RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA

(If any of these themes are present in a shows storyline, then there will be a warning in each story and a cut of where)

With that, enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smosh:

- Literally anyone in the cast/crew, new or old Smosh (Reader will be aged up, duh)

Stranger Things:

- Eleven

- Mike

- Dustin

- Will

- Lucas

- Max

- Steve

- Billy

- Jonathan

- Nancy

Teen Wolf:

- All the characters :)

Umbrella Academy:

- All the Hargreaves children. (Anything with Five will either be aged up or reader will be aged down)

Harry Potter:

- All characters (Golden Trio Era, Marauders Era)

[a-singleboat]

LA Girl

Word Count: 3.5k

Request: Since requests are open, can I ask for one where Shayne Topp has secretly been dating an Alt girl (piercings, coloured hair, tattoos ect) for months and she has anxiety and is nervous about meeting the squad as she feels like they’re gonna judge her for being so different to him so Shayne introduces her to Damien first alone and Damien automatically likes her and they click really well so she tells him she’s ready to go public and meet the rest of the squad and they all accept her?❤️ - Anon

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It took me a while to conceptualize it at first but then the rest came pretty naturally :D

Warning(s): Mentions of oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mentions of sex, self deprecating thoughts

You never really liked living in Los Angeles. Most days it was too bright and there were too many people, too many tourists. Yeah, you hated living here. That is, of course, until you met Shayne. 

At first, it appeared that you and Shayne were as different as night and day. Literally. He was the perfect LA Boy, with his blonde hair and his trim physique, always looking like the sun while you… you liked your dark colors and vibrant hairstyles, not to mention your multitudes of piercings and tattoos. In the mornings that you did spend together, Shayne liked to trace them with the tips of his fingers before the day started. 

These past few months with Shayne have been euphoric, for lack of better words. It seemed you were forever stuck in your honeymoon phase together but even you knew that it couldn’t last forever. The first fight you’d have, the first disagreement, stemmed from your own insecurities. 

As you’d mentioned before, Shayne looked like the perfect LA Boy, as did the rest of his friends. He didn’t stand out while walking the length of Hollywood Boulevard and he certainly didn’t catch any of the police officer’s eyes when he went to the bank. 

Which is why you weren’t so sure you wanted to meet them, his friends that is. You were sure that they would judge you for your alternative fashion choices, just like everyone else did. 

“They’re not like that,” Shayne tried to convince you for the umpteenth time that day. You had just finished washing the dishes, using your day off to catch up on chores you’d neglected during the week. Shayne was supposed to be completing his coursework for his degree but instead he’d decided to pester you with this topic once more. 

“My friends are super supportive and they just want to meet you,” he tried again. “And if they say anything then they’re not really my friends. They’ll love you, I promise.”

You picked up the laundry basket full of clean clothes from beside your front door, dumping the basket out on the couch. You cleared off a small section on the coffee table so that you could fold your laundry. 

“I’m just worried,” you confessed, folding a cropped shirt in half twice before dropping it into the laundry basket. “You say that they’re supportive and that they just want to meet me but you also just said, ‘if they say anything.’ Shayne, if I really didn’t have a reason to worry, you wouldn’t have thrown that in there.” 

“Okay, that was my bad,” he admitted, “but I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about, they’ll all love you.”

You gave him a weary look, folding a pair of black cargo pants over your arm. A few weeks ago, you’d met Shayne’s parents and while they were two of the most loving and welcoming people you had met, you could still see the discomfort and unease hidden behind their eyes. They expected someone different, with less tattoos and piercings most likely. They probably weren’t expecting their blonde baby boy to be with a neon-pink-haired twenty-something with daddy issues galore. 

“Okay, how about this,” Shayne took the pants from your hands, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. “I’ll invite Damien over to mine for dinner tonight as a tester. If everything goes well with him, then maybe you’ll consider meeting everyone else?”

You took up your cargo pants once more, settling them in the laundry basket with the rest of your folded clothing. You had less than half the original pile left, the rest of the clothing being mainly bras and socks that still needed to be sorted. 

“Okay,” you gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

As it turns out, completely forgetting that Damien was due to arrive any moment at Shayne’s apartment was the worst thing that could happen. His best friend’s first impression of you would forever be this: you on your knees with Shayne’s dick halfway down your throat while you gave him a before-dinner blowjob. 

Embarrassment burned through your entire being as Damien realized what was happening before he closed the front door and called out, “I’m so sorry, I should have knocked!” 

You looked up at Shayne who couldn’t decide between being mortified and being smug. It took everything within your power not to punch him in the dick, considering it was literally right there in front of you. 

“Go… take care of yourself,” you awkwardly chuckled, patting his thigh lightly. “I’ll let your friend in and hopefully not die from embarrassment on the way.” 

Shayne scrambled up off the couch and into his bathroom while you opened the container of mints you kept under the coffee table for these types of instances. Not that you and Shayne expected people to walk in during any of that normally. You washed your hands at the sink while you chewed the mint, giving yourself a moment to breathe before even thinking about opening the door.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you opened the door for Damien, unable to meet his eye as you let him in. 

“Uh, sorry you had to see any of that…” You closed the door behind him, double checking the lock to make sure it was still working. “We don’t usually do it out here, um--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Damien tried to save the night. “It’s not like I haven’t seen Shayne’s dick before--I mean--Not in the way you’d think--”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, still thinking of a way to dig your way out of the hole you’d awkwardly made. When Shayne was telling you about Damien, he did mention that he was possibly the most awkward of his friends which made him the perfect ‘test monkey’ for the night. 

“I should’ve knocked,” Damien settled, an apologetic look on his face. “Shayne gave me a key a while back and I usually just let myself in but that’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Shayne had also mentioned Damien was the most polite out of them all. Not that the others weren’t polite, because they were. He had meant it in the way that Damien would apologize for existing if he could (which he has done before). 

“It’s okay, really. Though, we might have to tweak the story of how we met for future conversations.” You made your way into Shayne’s little kitchenette. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Damien said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the high table. You grimaced at the couch, making a mental note to grab some disinfectant once Shayne came out of the bathroom. “And yeah, we’ll just leave that part out for future retellings.”

You pulled a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the Brita. You added a few ice cubes as well, smiling as they clinked against the sides of the glass. 

“So, how did you and Shayne meet?” Damien asked, thanking you for the glass. You took up the other seat, crossing your right leg over your left. 

“At the tattoo shop I work at, actually,” you played with the end of your belt, twisting the fabric over your hand until it covered your knuckles. For this meeting, you’d decided to tone down your wardrobe--less chains and more softer fabrics. Your pleated skirt had been exchanged for the black cargo pants you’d folded earlier. That paired with a simple side release buckle belt and a structured white top for contrast, this was probably the most “tame” you’ve dressed in a while. 

“He came in with another friend of his, Paul, and sat with him while I worked on a piece for his sleeve. After that, I gave him my number in case he ever wanted to get a tattoo himself and the rest is history.”

“I can’t believe Paul technically met you before I did,” Damien said in disbelief. You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on which meant your boyfriend would be joining the two of you soon. 

The awkwardness between you and Damien had faded slightly but you could still feel the tension in the air. Shayne opened the bathroom door and you looked over your shoulder to watch as your no longer disheveled boyfriend entered the room. He’d changed his pants, which was fair, and he was holding the disinfectant in hand as if he’d read your mind. 

You hopped off the seat and took it from him, spraying down the entire couch while he greeted his friend. 

“Really sorry you had to see that,” Shayne said, laughing as they clapped their hands together. “We would have disinfected the couch either way, just so you know.” 

Damien laughed as you finished cleaning off the couch, setting the disinfectant on the coffee table. You couldn’t be bothered with putting it away in the bathroom right now. 

“Well, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Shayne pulled on your arm until you settled into his side. You gave a small wave. “And she made Italian for dinner so unless you now want nothing to do with me, we can start eating now.” 

“Sounds great.”

Once you actually got over the initial awkwardness, your night actually turned out enjoyable. Damien was extremely funny and nice, just like Shayne had said. He’d even asked about your job and your own tattoos, expressing his own thoughts about getting one or two done himself. 

“If you get it done at my shop, I can get you a discount,” you offered, taking a sip of your water. “Friends and family get twenty-percent off, though that doesn’t include the tip.” 

“Really?” Damien asked. He looked shocked that you’d even offer to tattoo him, let alone provide him with a discount. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Just let me know when and we can set up an appointment.” 

“That’d be amazing.”

The three of you were sitting on the couch now, you and Shayne sitting on the side closest to the window while Damien was on the other end. His body was angled toward the two of you as “The Office” played quietly in the background. 

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around more?” Damien asked. “Shayne always comes alone to out-of-work get-togethers and Courtney’s been pestering him to bring you around for some time now.”

“She has?” you looked up at Shayne, asking if that was true. 

He nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent on getting you to meet my friends? They all want to meet you.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re all he talks about,” Damien chuckled. “I swear, every other word from his mouth is something about you. Whether it’s wondering what you’re doing to wondering how you’re doing, it’s always about you.” 

You reached up and patted Shayne’s cheek lightly. “Aw, babe. You think about me? How embarrassing.”

  He swatted your hand away, chuckling as you giggled at the shared joke between you. 

You talked for a little longer, sharing stories between the three of you before Damien caught sight of the time. 

“I should get going,” he said, standing up. You got up as well, giving him a hug before letting him and Shayne say their goodbyes. Once Damien had left the apartment completely, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you shoulder relaxing. While Shayne was an extrovert, you found yourself physically and mentally drained from hanging out with just one person. 

The entire experience was new for you. Since you’d started dressing how you wanted to dress and expressing yourself accordingly, there have been people less than willing to be nice to you or show you any sort of kindness. It was mostly linked to the fact that people thought that if you wore black, put on lots of make-up, had piercings, and had tattoos you were a bad person and an even worse role model. Not only was that hurtful, it made you very self conscious about meeting new people. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Shayne said, pulling you in for a hug. You sunk into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. 

“It wasn’t terrible,” you replied, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You turned your head sideways so that you could hear his steady heartbeat, allowing it to lull you into what felt like security. “Though, the beginning could have been better.” 

“We’re never speaking of the beginning again.”

“Agreed.”

Shayne started to sway with you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting go. “So how do you feel about going to brunch with the rest of my friends on Saturday?”

After meeting Damien, your anxiety had subsided. No longer did you think you would be judged for the type of clothes you chose to wear but this time the anxiety of meeting so many people at once surfaced. When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you worried. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I just…” If you said what you were thinking out loud, you knew you were going to sound ridiculous. “It’s nothing.”

“No, really,” he frowned, “tell me what’s wrong. Bottling it all up inside won’t work this time.” 

You sighed. “I--Shayne, you’re perfect, you know that?” 

“I wouldn’t say perfect but…” You dug your fingers into his side, causing him to laugh. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the perfect LA Boy and I look nothing like the perfect LA Girl that you so clearly deserve. I mean, Damien was nice but that’s literally just how he is. What if your other friends think I’m, like, a terrible influence on you with my millions of piercings and tattoos and attention-seeking hair and--”

He cut you off with his lips, arms pulling you in impossibly closer and effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

When he pulled away, you fixed him with a playful glare. “Shayne Robert Topp, you did not just pull a movie cliche on me while I was airing out all my concerns to you. Apologize right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But, Y/n, you don’t need to be the ‘perfect LA Girl,’ you’re perfect the way you are. That doesn’t mean I’d like you any less if you decided that you did want to become whatever you think is the ‘perfect LA Girl’ because I’d like you no matter what. I just like you.”

“Even if I went bald?”

“Even if you went bald.” 

You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again: you fucking loved this man. 

“I love you,” you said, pouting your bottom lip. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him in adoration. 

“I love you, too.” 

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were ready to meet the rest of Shayne’s friends. Most of your anxieties had been successfully quelled, though they still lingered. You had gotten your hair done again the day before, meaning you were now sporting a bright neon green. You matched your makeup to your vibrant new dye and picked out a heat-appropriate outfit. 

“Are you ready to go?” Shayne called from your front room, interrupting your self-admiration session. You gave yourself one last look in the full-length mirror in your room before slipping on the pair of DnD dice filled platform shoes that added at least three inches to your height. 

“Ready.” You stopped to pose in the doorway, the bottom of your shirt riding up as you leaned against the wooded frame. “Baby, how do I look?” 

Shayne looked up from his phone, his jaw dropping the second he laid eyes on you. A blush settled nicely onto your cheeks, as you grew shy under his gaze. He dropped his phone on the couch and crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch, a giddy feeling spreading through your being as your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. 

“You look amazing,” he breathed, pulling away. You giggled as you realized that a bit of your black lipstick had transferred off onto his lip. You reached up and wiped his top lip with your thumb. 

“Thank you,” you giggled, rubbing your fingers together until the black rubbed off. “What time did your friends say?”

“We’ve got some time…” his fingers crept up your side, dipping under your shirt and tracing the band of your bra with his thumb. 

You smacked his hand. “Naughty boy.”

You didn’t end up leaving the apartment for another thirty minutes, though you couldn’t complain about it. Still, you ended up making it on time. From where you’d parked on the street, you could see Shayne’s friends spread across two connected tables, laughing on the patio. 

Damien was the first to spot the two of you, standing from his seat and calling out, inviting you into the sectioned off area. You took up residence in the seat closest to him, leaving Shayne to take the seat on your other side. 

“You guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Shayne introduced you to everyone at the table. There were nine other people sitting at the table. You recognized maybe six of them from the videos you’d watched, while the other three were most likely spouses (considering how close they were sitting next to who you assumed were their significant others). 

“Hi, Y/n!” the blonde sitting next to Damien greeted. You recognized her immediately as the inspiration for Shayne’s alter ego, Courtney Freaking Miller. 

You smiled politely as everyone went around introducing themselves to you, from Olivia and Sam to Sarah and Claudio, you didn’t feel out of place for one second. The hand that had been tightly intertwined with Shayne’s relaxed as you grew even more comfortable around his friends. 

“So Damien told us that you worked at a tattoo parlor,” Ian inquired, propping an arm up on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. On his left sat Anthony, who also looked interested in your answer. “And Shayne did, too, I guess. Did Damien tell you that your boyfriend literally never stops talking about you?”

You giggled. “He did tell me that and I find it adorable that he can’t go a second without missing me.” 

“I wish Peter was like that,” the purple haired woman, Mari, complained playfully, nudging her husband’s side. Peter just laughed it off, casually putting his arm around her shoulders. 

“You do not,” he refuted. “You get flustered when I even mention you to my friends.”

She huffed, though there were no traces of anger to be found on her face. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Courtney put her menu down, reaching over to grab her glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. Y/n, yours are so pretty.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you! I actually did most of them myself.” 

Courtney’s eyes widened at that. She reached over Damien, who had leaned far back enough in his seat to allow her to do that. She motioned at your sleeve, specifically at the roses that decorated the back of your forearm. They were cliche and most likely overused but you just thought they were pretty. 

“Those? You did those yourself?”

“Yeah!” you said enthusiastically. You offered your arm out, allowing her to take a closer look. “My friend, Alyssa, designed it for me and as soon as I was trusted to wield an actual tattoo gun, it was the first piece I worked on.”

“That’s insanely cool,” she gushed, tracing a finger over one of the larger roses. “And you’re insanely talented.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, Courtney was originally your biggest concern. Most of the insecurity had sprouted from the constant online presence of the ship Shourtney, which Shayne assured you was nothing but a meme. And you trusted your boyfriend, and though you didn’t know Courtney, you trusted her too. But sitting here, at the same brunch spot as her, sharing the same meal as she was, all your fears washed away. 

It was incredibly difficult not to like her. Not only was she extremely nice, but insanely pretty as well. Though you had to accredit most of your confidence to Shayne, who only had eyes for you despite everything else. You’d thought that you would find yourself vying for his attention in front of everyone but not once did he leave you to flounder. He was always there, ready to step into any conversation you were having. 

When you’d all finished your meals and began to wrap up the late morning, you couldn’t help but show your gratitude for your amazing boyfriend by pressing a huge kiss to his cheek, whispering that you loved him while everyone had grown content in their own little conversations with each other. 

Content, he grinned and his arm around your shoulders tightened just that much more as he used his free hand to tilt your face up towards him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, keeping it short and sweet, before pulling away and whispering, “I love you, too.” 

TAGLIST

Permanent

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​ @grandmascottlang​ @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @imladylunaticbitch​

[smloshie]

Me rewatching every SSG/SWG knowing full-well what teams win each year

[mytsukkishine]

Prompt for Damien haas x reader -> fluff!!! coworkers at smosh, Damien is super shy and reader is super flirty and teases him a lot until he actually makes a move??? Do with that what you will lol

n/a: whoa kay, hi anon. thank u for the lovely request. this would actually be my first time to take in request, and the first time to make a characterxreader genre so forgive me for the errors. thank you for the request and i would like to apologize again becaaaause i am new to this smosh fandom (I have known them way back then and only watched smosh again because of their board AF series so..) and i hope you would like this.

-still taking requests so~~ give me time tho hahaha another note. sorry it might have a little feelsy feels in the middle lmao

Summary: You’ve become smitten of Damien ever since, and you love to tease and kind of flirt with him because he would always turn red. However, in the middle of these so-called feelings, you’ve come to the conclusion that maybe, maybe Damien doesn’t like you back. Maybe the reason why he’s shy was that he felt so awkward when you are around him.

And so, the feels begin. 

words: 1,920

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You smiled at the envelopes on your hands. The marketing team was already done with the promotional pictures, and it all looked awesome. All those hard work through production was all worth it.

Of course, you, from the Sales department volunteered to bring it to the squad because, well, even though you were at the office side, you were more close to the production side.

“I have pictures!” You announced cheerily as you opened the door. Courtney and Noah who was near the entrance stood up and got the envelopes according to their names. “Here ya go!”

“Thank you Y/N!” Courtney beamed you a smile and you handed the rest to the squad. You walked up to Damien and you grinned, pushing your hair onto the back of your ear.

“Here,”

“Thank you!” He said happily and you can’t help but notice his cheeks were always pink. It’s adorable. “You look good there,” You commented and you swore his cheeks turned red. “I- uhm, hahha,” He laughed lowly, avoiding eye contact.

You pouted internally but just gave him a cheeky smile, “Well, see you around!”

“Hey YN, wanna hang out after work?” Shayne spoke and the others agreed.

To be honest, it has become a routine for you to hang out with them. The difference between the departments was never a hindrance because you easily became friends with Olivia and the rest was history.

Then you met Damien. When Damien first entered Smosh, you were smitten. He was kind of shy at first but then he opened up. The thing that you liked about him was that he gets shy whenever he rants about anime to you and then he would suddenly apologize. You two were pretty close but you still wonder why Damien never seemed to speak so much when you are around.

You always see him being all talkative and a goofball to others but not to you.

You were curious.

One time you two were alone in the lunchroom and you looked up from the document you were reading. You caught him looking at you.

“Yes, Dames?”

“Uhm—Nothing!” He looked back at his food and continued to eat.

Ever since then, you always wanted to tease him. He was cute.

“Oh, cool!” You grinned towards Shayne then turned to look at Damien, “You’re going too, right?”

“Y-yes,” Damien answered and you giggled.

Shayne, Keith, and Noah was actually watching the whole scene happening and they just wished for Damien to just ask you out quickly.

 ~

You sighed as you entered the breakroom. It’s a tiring and stressful day as your manager kept pressuring you in getting that deal. He has been nagging you since last week and you were really trying your best.

You whined and headed for the coffee machine but stopped when you spotted Damien. He waved at you with a sweet smile etched on his face.

“Coffee?” He offered. His cheeks pink again.

Your frowning face immediately glowed and you find yourself next to him, “Yes please.” He pressed the button and both of you silently wait for it to be brewed.

“So, why is Damien Haas here? Don’t you have a shoot?”

“I- uh, we are on a break actually,” He pointed on his brows and that’s where you noticed that it was so defined and on fleek. “Whaaat,” You leaned in to take a closer look and Damien stepped back a little.

You smirked, “Let me see, Dames,”

He was taller than you so obviously you tiptoed and Damien released a nervous laugh. He tilted his head to the side, avoiding eye contact and you grinned. You patted his hair gently and a small beep from the coffee maker resounded.

You straightened yourself and grabbed the coffee pot. “You still look good though,” You complimented. “What video are you making?”

Damien was a blushing mess. He cleared his throat as he grabbed his mug and waited for you to finish. “Uh, Courtney is giving me a make-over, Shane inspired make-up,” You nodded and you took Damien’s hand that was holding his cup and poured coffee in it.

Damien’s mouth was shut tight as he looked at the hand above his.

It was hot and it’s making his heart beat fast.

“Oooh nice,”

“Y-yeah…”

“Well, good luck!” You winked, squeezed Damien’s hand gently before leaving, not forgetting to grab your own cup.

You stopped on your tracks and looked back. You beamed up at Damien, “I think pink lips would look good on you~”

Your heart was racing as you exited the room.

 ~

 Okay, you can’t focus. You need to see this live. That was why you found yourself sneaking in the studio where you know Courtney and Damien would be shooting their makeover.  You smiled sheepishly as one of the producers saw you. He shook his head but lets you in.

You found a corner where you can watch for a while without interrupting anyone so you stood there, papers in your hand as you watched Courtney applies some eye shadow on Damien’s face.

It was funny and cute but throughout the video, you can’t help but pout as how close they were and Damien wasn’t flinching away.

Well, of course, he shouldn’t because Courtney was putting make-up on him but still. You felt your heart pang a little as you remembered some moments where you got a little too close to Damien and he would shy away.

Okay, admitting time. You have a crush on Damien. Maybe after the lunchroom incident you became so smitten over him, then you realize you liked him when Boze asked you if you like him.

Ever since then—you do. You do like him and it has been seven months and these so-called feelings were kind of taking a toll on you.

Then Damien’s laughter broke your thoughts as he and Courtney talked more and you were kind of jealous. Not because of Courtney, oh God she’s your friend. You’re jealous because you want to have that kind of conversation with Damien also.

Maybe you got it all wrong, you thought to yourself as you observed Damien. He was shy and always blushing. Maybe because he was feeling awkward to be with you.

Not because he likes you.

You sighed and decided to leave and continue with your work.

 ~

 “Yo, did something happened?” Shayne asked as he took a seat beside you, putting his drink on the table as you continue to play with your Switch. It was a Sunday meaning no work for you and you decided to hang out in the squad’s office for a while because they said they would be going out for a drink later on.

“No, why?”

“You have been awfully quiet.”

“I am always quiet Shayne,”

“Mmhmm,” Shayne hummed and took a sip. Pregnant silence covered the both of you before you straightened your body and rested your head on Shayne’s shoulder.

“I’m just tired,”

“Of what?”

“Work, obviously.”

“Y/N. I have known you since Defy. What is up?”

You groaned as you lost the game. You sighed and pressed restart. “Nothing, really…”

Then the door opened and the rest of the squad entered and both of you remained in your positions. “Y/N, you’re here!” Olivia and Courtney greeted and you replied with a smile and wave before turning back to your game. Noah took a seat beside you to watch and you instantly switched shoulders to lean on.

Shayne stood up to throw is trash and the rest were getting ready to leave.

Damien was the last one to enter and he spotted you. He walked up to you and peeked from above to see what you were playing, “Oh, you’re playing My Hero: One’s Justice!” He exclaimed excitedly as he took Shayne’s previous spot.

“Ah, yeah… It’s quite an interesting game,” You said and focused on your playing.

“Guys come on, we need to stop by Taco Bell first,” Keith announced and Noah stood up, disturbing your gaming in the process. You proceeded to rest on the nearest shoulder but stopped when you remembered that the nearest shoulder beside you was—

Then your eyes met Damien’s.

The game already abandoned as you and Damien made eye contact.

You saw his cheeks were pink again. You looked away and exited your game.

“Uh,” You managed to let out as you stood up. “I think I need to charge this first, so…”

You wanted to hit yourself because it was so obvious you tried to avoid him. Now you felt bad for letting your stupid feelings get in the way.

You walked over to your bag with a sigh.

Damien doesn’t deserve this. It has been two days since your realization and it has been two days since you smiled at Damien. You wanted to cry because you always, always wanted to smile at Damien. And maybe tease him but nooooo, you realize you might just be hurting yourself.

“I’m going to the break room for a while,” You announced and Courtney draped an arm around you, “Everything good babe?” She asked with a worried face and you nodded, hugging her in the process.

“Yes, babe. Just thirsty,” Well that was partly true. She lets you go and you waved, exiting the room with your bag in tow.

You walked towards the break room and enter when a hand stopped you from your tracks.

It was Damien.

He followed you here? You looked around to see no one was there, of course the office would be empty on a Sunday afternoon.

“Yes?” You questioned with a raised brow and you saw him gulp.

“Y-Y/N… I- I wanted to ask you something,”

You sighed. He had noticed you were avoiding him. Now you have to apologize to this soft boy that doesn’t deserve your cruelty.

“Dames, look about earlier I-”

“Would you go out with me?”

The two of you stopped for a moment. His hands held your wrist as you both looked at each other.

“What?”

Damien was now red. Like red, as in when they drank-too-much-smoothies-that-one-time red.

“I… you see,” He was kind of struggling as you were gazing at him. “Uhm, okay. You are funny, so cheerful and very… cute.” He was looking down, still holding your wrist. “And you always tease me and stuff…”

You smiled a little but he continued. “Then I noticed you were kind of avoiding me and—”

“I’m sorry Dames, it’s not—”

“No. No. Let me finish, please. I am sweating.” You nodded with a laugh.

Damien released a nervous chuckle and he finally, finally looked at you.

“And it’s killing me. I have liked you and—I wanted to know more of you so,”

“Yes.”

“Would you go—wait, what?”

You giggled as you stepped closer to Damien, you face are inches away and you heard his breath hitched.

“I would love to go out with you Dames,” You felt your cheeks heating up as you see Damien’s eyes looking down at your lips. You smiled and pressed a finger on his soft lips.

“Take me to dinner first, babe.” Damien scoffed a laugh, cheeks still a mess as you stepped back. “I’ve always like this side of you, Dames.” You commented and grabbed for his hand. He was shocked for a moment but then relaxed. He leaned in towards your ear, “I like this side of you too,”

Now you swore you were the blushing mess this time.

-

apologize for grammar error. thank uuuuumaybe tell me what ya’ll think hehe :D

[mymindswriting]

Stubborn (Smosh)

Pairing: Shayne Topp x Reader

Words: 2185

Warnings: None!

Request: @al-ohomora : “hiya! i wanted to request a shayne imagine where olivia tried to set up shayne and the reader (like he did with her and sam). he’s a little unsure about being set up at first but after they bump into eachother they click! feel free to add anything else to the story!! thank you :) have a great day :)”

A/N: Lowkey don’t know anything about being a script writer for shit BUT I tried, at least. I’m still trying to get the hang of everyone’s personalities and how to write them, so please don’t hate me if this isn’t good. Also, I’m like 80% sure that the Smosh office is apart of the Mythical offices, right? I’m just rolling with it! SURE. I don’t know how the office is set up to I made it up lmao. BUT ANYWAY. Feedback is always greatly appreciated, my friends! Thank you for sending in your request :)

masterlist - request guidelines - taglist

*Gifs are not mine, all credit is due to the owners

“Shayne come on! Let me do this for you please!” Olivia whined as she stood beside Shayne’s desk. He only rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair, staring up at Olivia with questioning eyes.

“Why are you still going on about this?”

“Because she’s perfect for you and I know you’d love her!” Olivia exclaimed as she crossed her arms looking back at Shayne. “Why are you so hesitant?” She questioned. Shayne only shrugged.

“I feel I’m better at doing the setting up, not the other way around.” Shayne’s answer only irritated Olivia more as she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“What the heck’s happening here?” Damien said casually as he took in the scene. Shayne sent his friend a pleading look before looking back to an annoyed Olivia.

“Olivia seems to think that she can take over the title of master matchmaker, here,” Shayne told Damien, stretching his legs out while placing his hands behind his head.

“Shayne’s being stubborn.”

“Have you met Shayne? He’s always stubborn, especially when it comes to dating,” Damien responded, looking between the two of them. Olivia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Who even is this girl? Do we know her?” Damien asked her, leaning against the wall.

“No, you don’t, but I do! And I know she’d be great for Shayne! At least let me tell you about her.” Shayne only deadpanned at Olivia as she asked her question, attempting to think of some sort of excuse. Frankly, he didn’t have one. Sure his love life could use a jumpstart, but the idea of being set up with someone he doesn’t even know didn’t rub well with him. Even though he’s done it a couple times himself for friends.

Maybe he dug this hole himself.

“What’s her name?” Shayne asked, switching his gaze from the floor to Olivia. Her eyes lit up as she uncrossed her arms.

“Her name is Y/N and you two would hit it off immediately, I know it. She’s a writer, just moved here from Y/H/T. She’s helping with some script writing with our own writers and if all goes well, she might join the team.”

“How did you two meet?” Damien asked her, listening intently.

“Long story, but I needed help with some of my script work so I reached out to her. She’s incredibly smart and a major nerd.”

“Calling me a nerd?”

“Shayne you’re like one of the biggest nerds I know. And so is she so please give her a chance!” Shayne shook his head and sighed.

“She’s done some acting as well, you guys are really similar,” Olivia added, looking hopefully down at the poor man. Shayne looked up at Damien, silently pleading him to say something that’ll help him get out of this situation. Damien only shrugged.

“I would say go for it. There’s no harm in seeing if there’s some potential there.”

“You’re not helping, Damien.”

“All I’m saying is what is the worst that could happen?” Damien asked him. “You’re the one always saying your love life is nonexistent.”

“He has a point,” Courtney yelled from her desk, leaning back and rolling her chair out to look at the group. “She sounds like your kinda girl.” Shayne tilted his head,  inaudibly agreeing with Courtney as every voice in his head argued with what he should say.

“I guess I could possibly meet her.” Olivia squealed as her face lit up, grabbing her phone from her pocket.

“You’ll be thanking me in a couple weeks, I know it!” She yelled at him as she quickly walked through the door, dialling the mystery girl’s number.

“So, the matcher becomes the matchee,” Damien smirked as he continued on his journey to his own desk. Shayne shot him a glare as he leaned back, letting out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding as he returned to his email.

-

“Hello?”

“Y/N! When are you getting here?”

“Uhh..” You looked at your watch briefly as you continued walking down the street, phone pressed between your shoulder and ear and an iced coffee in your other hand.

“Maybe like, five… ten minutes?”

“Well hurry the heck up! I’ve got someone I want you to meet before our meeting.”

“Is this the guy you’ve been trying to set me up with? Shayne?” You sighed as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

“Uh, duh! And you remembered his name! Must mean you wanna meet him too.” You rolled your eyes at the girl as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Olivia, you know I love you, but I’m really not the type to do blind dating-”

“Oh shut it, I’ve already argued with Shayne all morning about this! You guys would be perfect for each other, believe me,” You shook your head as you paused at the crosswalk, pressing your lips together.

“I mean, I don’t really have an excuse to say no, but I’m saying no anyway.” Olivia sighed audibly, causing you to chuckle. “Why are you so pushy about this anyway?”

“Because Shayne set me and Sam up and it was literally the best thing he’s ever done for me. I wanna do the same for him. Trust me, I wouldn’t set Shayne up with just any one of my friends.” Your heart skipped a beat as she spoke to you, a slight smile coming to your lips.

“You’re special. To me, and I know you’d be special to him as well.”

“Well jeez, Olivia, that was probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,”

“You know I love you, Y/N. But I will kick your ass if you say no to this one more time.” You laughed thunderously at her comment as you smiled, your eyes crinkling cutely.

“I guess I could come say hi to him. Wouldn’t kill me.”

“Finally, my two most stubborn friends agree to something for once.”

“I’m only saying yes because I know you were just going to accidentally bump me into him at some point during my visit. At least this way I can sort of mentally prepare,” Olivia snorted on the other line.

“You got me.” You giggled with her as you peered ahead of you, seeing the office building in the distance.

“Hey, I’m almost there, I’ll text you when I’m on my way up.”

“Sounds good, see you soon!” You pressed the small red button as you placed your hair behind your ear, removing it from your face. Honestly, having Olivia help you with your dating situation couldn’t be that bad, right? You trusted her, she was one of your good friends. She wouldn’t set you up with just anyone, and they way she talked about Shayne to you, you WANTED to meet the guy. You had to admit, it really did sound like the two of you had more in common than you thought, both giving Olivia a hard time about the whole situation. That had to mean something, right?

You pushed open the doors to the office, looking around the lobby before sending a quick text to Olivia. You stood with your hands in your pockets, looking at all your surroundings as you waited for Olivia, or at least someone from Smosh, to greet you.

“Hey there, can I help you?” You looked towards the sound of the voice and were met with a good looking, dirty blonde man walking toward you with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Oh yes, I’m uh, looking for the Smosh offices?” The man smiled and nodded at you, extending out his right hand.

“I’m Shayne, I’m apart of the Smosh cast, actually.” You narrowed your eyes, a small smile appearing on your plump lips as you took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“I’m Y/N, you’re Olivia’s friend, yeah?” You asked quietly, hoping to God that he was the correct Shayne. His eyes went wide as he let go of your hand, staring back at you.

“Oh, yeah, that’s me. I take it you’re her writer friend?” You snorted as you chuckled slightly, smiling at him.

“I mean, if that’s all she’s mentioned about me, I guess I am.”

“Well I mean, she’s mentioned some other stuff too,” You cocked your eyebrow.

“Good stuff, I hope?” Shayne smiled as he looked down to his feet, sticking his hand into his pocket.

“All good stuff.” You smiled back at him as you bit your lip nervously.

“So, shall we?” Shayne said as he pointed down the hall.

“Oh yes! Of course. Lead the way.” You smiled as you began to follow him through the doors and down the hallway.

“So I take it you're here to work with our writers?” Shayne asked you, sneaking a glance at your face. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t a face he wanted to look at all the time.

“Yeah, Olivia recommended me to help with some unique comedy sketches you guys are working on. I couldn’t refuse, you know? I love this stuff.” Shayne nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, I get it. It's definitely a fun place to work, I wouldn’t give it up. And by what Olivia’s told me, I think you’d fit in well here.” Your eyes became brighter as Shayne turned his head towards you.

“Well I mean, she kinda rambles about you sometimes, and as much as I hate being set up, we do have a lot in common,” Shayne blushed slightly as you giggled.

“She does the same thing to me. She seems to think we’re both nerds.”

“Nerdiest people she knows!” Shayne added causing you to chuckle and shake your head. Shayne watched as your face crinkled while you laughed, a small smile gracing his lips.

“You know, I’d never admit this to her, but I think she might have been onto something.” You bit your lip as you looked at him with twinkling eyes, your stomach doing flips at the words that left his mouth.

“Funny, because I would never admit that either. So let’s keep it our little secret, yeah?”

Shayne smirked slightly at you, sending you a quick wink as he pushed open the door, leading you into the main offices of Smosh. You couldn’t help but inwardly squeal at his gesture, feeling yourself falling already.

But, Olivia didn’t need to know that.

“Y/N! You’re already here,” Olivia shouted as she walked towards you.

“And you met Shayne.” Her eyes went wide and a toothy smile filled her face as she looked between the two of you. You blushed as you quickly glanced at Shayne and then back at her.

“Yeah, I did. If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were hoping that would have happened.”

“No! I mean, yes, but I didn’t set this one up.” Olivia said gesturing to the two of you, switching her gaze between you and Shayne.

“Well, you did send me downstairs to get coffee because I looked like I needed some more fuel in my body the exact same moment Y/N here walked in the door.” Olivia’s eyes went wide at him.

“That's a complete LIE! I left you alone for once.” Olivia exclaimed.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” You shook your head as you raised your eyebrows, stealing a quick glance from Shayne. Olivia rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Okay, you two have already met, ON ACCIDENT,  and have already clearly hit it off and just don’t want to admit it to me yet. Which is FINE,” Olivia glared at your suspicious face shaking her head.

“Ah, you caught us! Although we bonded talking about how much you annoy us.” Shayne added, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Whatever gets the job done, Shayne,” Olivia teased, scowling faintly at him. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as you looked at the two of them, licking your lips.

“As fun as this is, I do have some people I need to meet with.” You said, smiling at Shayne. Shayne sent you a smile back as he nodded.

“Hey, maybe after your meeting we could grab some lunch and talk some more about how much Olivia pesters us?” Shayne asked you, ignoring Olivia’s groan.

“Sounds like a plan, Shayne. I’ll come find you,” You said with a smile as he nodded, and slowly turned to head back to his desk. Your eyes followed him, your smile staying plastered on your face as you felt your whole body tingling.

“I have some people I need to meet with’, says the one staring at Shayne’s butt as he walks away.” Olivia mocked you, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Yeah yeah, just show me where I need to go,” You smirked at her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it briefly.

“Only if you admit to me I was right.” You cocked one eyebrow as you looked at her questionably.

“On second thought, I can find my own way around.”  

“Stubborn,” Olivia muttered to herself as she quickly walked down the hall with you close behind.

xx

Have a request? Send me an ask!

tags: @caswinchester2000

If you don’t want to be tagged anymore, let me know!

xx

[suilivia]

People who went to the San Diego show got Olivia showing up as a surprise and suddenly I wish I had tour tickets.

[smoshfamfanfics-blog]

Hello Friends!

I am new to the Tumblr scene, but I really want to start writing fan fictions and imagines for the smosh fam and I figured this was the best place to put my writing! I am going to start off writing for only some smosh members, but eventually I want to start writing for all of them! For now, I will write for 

- Shayne

-Damien 

-Courtney

-Ian 

-Noah 

-Keith 

-Olivia

Like I said, eventually I want to start writing for other members of smosh (past and present) so I will gladly take requests for them as well, it might just take me a bit longer to get to them. 

I am open to writing most things (smut, fluff, angst, etc.) but I am definitely a sucker for happy endings! There may be a few topics or scenarios I am not comfortable writing about, but I’ll handle each request on a case by case basis. 

I am hoping to have my first imagine up within the next 24 hours, so be on the lookout for that! And if you enjoy my writing don’t forget to follow me and send in some requests!

Much love, K.