#do they have a duo name. help me

[give-grian-rights]

i just got the vision in my mind of Cleo and Etho having like. like those sliding pronoun pins but instead it has two options and one of them is Divorce and the other is Newly Wed. and they just fucking walk over to eachother and slide it to the other one. sometimes they go on like nothing happened and sometimes they just like. bite each other

[sanshinexx]

I just finished reading the Kazekage Rescue Mission arc, and... I mean, what else was I supposed to do after witnessing all that??

[azelmaandeponine]

Wow, I sure am glad the BBE4 kids have never done a single thing wrong in their lives!

[nanamisgirly]

imagine nerd!Choso, you both are in the same degree. he didn't really noticed you at first but, for some unknown reasons, he kept bumping into you— wether in the hallway or you'd be few rows in front of him during lectures. And just like that, he developed an obsession toward you. and might god forgive him, but he couldn't help jerking off his cock at the thought of his length disappearing between your lips, eyes flickering up at him with a teasing glint. he was kind of sad you didn't even know he existed :/

but how lucky! in one of your lesson, the teacher assigned a partnered project. and fortunately, the duo were made with a randomized system!! Choso did not think twice, with some quick manipulation on his computer, he paired himself…with you! almost too easy

on your side tho, you had never heard the name Choso before. So when you reached out to set up a time for the project, you didn't expect much of it. But now…sitting across from him…his wide figure looming over the table, inked arms straining against the ridiculous tightness of his shirt…that was another story. How hadn't you noticed such a pretty face?? sharp eyes lined with kohl, two messy buns with some rebellious strands framing his beautiful features, and perfect dark purple painted nails tapping against the table. ‘am i blind or sum?’ you wondered. 

nerd!Choso was originally awkward with social interaction but more so when it came to you. He clears his throat "I- uh," he started, voice trembling "f-for the work, would you like t-t- to…" his cheeks flushed an adorable pink as you stared at him, giving him time to formule his thoughts ‘such a cute boy’ you mused.

"we can do it at my home!" he suddenly blurted out, words rushed, as if the poor man hadn’t said it now, he never would have :( "i- i mean, t-the assignment! o-of course..." he was so embarrassed of himself, his hands nervously cupping his warm milk chocolate "if— if you want to.." his eyes darted anywhere but yours, unable to hold your gaze. not when you were looking so intently, like you were seeing right through him. because what if you had some superpowers, the kind to read his horny thoughts, the kind to know exactly how many times he fucked his fist to the image of your pretty mouth stuffed full of his aching cock. catastrophe!!!!

nerd!Choso was blushing furiously, messier, stuttering over his words more than usual when you were unconditionally giving your best to give the man a gooood ride. “p-p-please” he whined, voice breaking. You leaned in, your breath warm against his ear “tell me, my pretty shy boy…what are you begging for, hmm? use your words, pretty". 

choso's hands gripped your thighs like a lifeline, fingers digging into your skin. “y-you— mngh, it's— it's too good. i can't last— i— please,” he choked out, eyes glossy as you slammed your hips down harder. His happy trail rubbed against your clit with every grind. the friction giving you as much pleasure as him.

“preeetty boy," you cooed, trying to maintain your composure despite having his fat dick stretching you enough to see stars. “is this what you've been thinking about the whole year? me riding you? or even better,” your mouth went for his neck, licking softly, contrasting with the pulsing grip of your cunt, milking his cock. "touching yourself to the thought of my glossy lips wrapped around your pathetically big dick ?" your voice was so sensual "tell me, tell me and i'll give you what you want” that man was moaning, the sluttiest moans escaping his throat. in response, your walls clenched harder, trying to suck him in even deeper at this point. “i— i was— i mean, i- fuckfuckfuck" choso were sure he lost the ability to form a simple sentence, his head falling back as he felt his tip kissing your cervix. but he tried his best to continue "i— i was…pumping my— my cock at the- mngh, thought o-of you..t-takin' me…d-d-deep,” poor boy was losing his mind. You've never seen a man being that pussy drunk, so openly lost into you, that was addicting.

your fingers trailed over his inked pecs, moving along the curves of his tattoos making their way to his nipples, and you pinched. not too rough to hurt but enough to send jolts of pleasure through his body. “look at this good boy," you sighed, feeling choso throbbing inside you. "earned the right to cum inside me… would you like that?”. 

you loved teasing him. he was a total whimpering, fucked out mess beneath you. ‘so cute’

nerd!Choso was as sure as the sky is blue that you had superpowers, somehow. and you both sure as well scored a beautiful A on the assignment.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[kitten4sannie]

ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ

ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ

pairing: frat boy! san x fem! reader feat. yungi

genre: frat au, smut

summary: san and his boys are more than grateful when you help them with their newest ‘feature film.’

w.c: 3k

warnings: they’re making porn okay, nasty mean dom! san, subby aloof! reader, san knowingly takes advantage of reader’s romantic feelings for him…. (bro’s the king of douchebags), manipulation/corruption, reader is treated like a fuck doll <3, brief implied mxm bc i love fruity frat boys uwu, praise/false praise, name calling/degradation, major voyeurism/exhibitionism kink, mind break ig?, dp in one hole, oral (giving), brief hair pulling, throat-fucking, tit fucking, facial, rough sex, bulge kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, gang bang !!, it’s all unprotected btw, multiple orgasms, creampies <33

a/n: this is so fucking insane you guys….like idk why frat aus have me in such a chokehold but here we are🧍🏻‍♀️also this is totally random (and essential) info but san’s signature frat party look would be a ‘don’t hate me it turns me on’ shirt and a backwards red cap hwjhw anyways happy reading~ and please lemme know if you liked it uwu

p.s: we’re at 6.5k followers HELLO???? that’s insane 🫣 thank you so very much!!!

song rec: i like the way you kiss me - artemas (✨ male manipulation: the song ✨)

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Smile for the camera, pretty girl,” San, the frat boy you’ve been in love with for ages, encouraged you from behind the lens of the camcorder he was holding, his smooth baritone voice like saccharine, artificial, yet sweet enough to keep you coming back for another taste. It was when you offered him a small, shy smile through the camera lense, despite the shamelessness of your current position, that he knew he had struck gold. 

San was filming one of the first of many future encounters you would be having on the expansive black leather couch inside their crowded frat den. You were stuffed to the absolute brim by two of his closest colleagues, Yunho and Mingi, who always refused to participate unless they were working together as a duo. 

“Stop looking at me like that, dude,” Mingi huffed up at Yunho from below the both of you, his shoulders and back routinely getting stuck to the couch with sweat. 

“Like what?” Yunho scoffed back, leaning further down onto your body to get closer to Mingi, essentially folding you in half, his hands closing around your ankles.

“Like you wanna kiss me. You’re gonna make me soft.” Mingi grimaced, pushing Yunho’s hands out of the way to hold onto your ankles instead, driving himself into you like a well oiled machine. He was throbbing nonstop, but there was absolutely no proof that it was because of his friend’s heavy cock rubbing along his inside the cunt they were sharing. 

Yunho’s breath hit your shoulder when he laughed. “Skill issue,” Yunho simply replied, delighted that Mingi bucked up into you even harder, encouraging him to do the same. 

Clearly, there was something vaguely homoerotic going on there, but it wasn’t San’s business, and he definitely had better things to focus on — you, his newest pupil. He watched you with dollar signs in his bright brown eyes and the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue, unable to keep himself from licking repeatedly at his chapped lips, especially now that the innocent classmate he had recently taken a liking to had no problem taking two cocks at once inside her puffy, used cunt, while he, his bros, and his trusty camcorder had a front row seat to her mutually beneficial destruction.  

“Look at you, so flexible…Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Y/N?” San teased, lowering the camera down until his sharp feline eyes were visible.

“N-no, I swear!” you squeaked out, the growing embarrassment you felt only spurring all of this newfound pleasure you were drunk on. “Just wanna, nnngh–be good for you…”

“Oh, that’s right. Silly me. You’re being a very good girl right now, baby, Don’t worry.” San couldn’t help but smile at the way you seemed to melt in front of him. It was just too easy. He glanced down at the camera, zooming in and capturing the moment his friends filled you up with their hot loads, the bliss evident on your fucked-out face. “That’s it, baby. Are you happy you stuck around here with us instead of going back to your dorm to do homework? Taking cock is much more fun, isn’t it, beautiful?” 

“So much more fun,” you sighed out, your pupils blown out just from looking at his devastatingly handsome face. It was then that you pouted. You were only here because you were in love with San, and yet, it wasn’t even his dick inside you. It wasn’t fair. “But, I’d have even more fun with you, Sannie~” 

“Is that so…?” San offered a brief shit-eating smirk to one of his boys nearby, reaching down to grab at himself through his sweatpants like he was weighing it. “It’s right here, baby. Why don’t you show us what that pretty mouth can do?” 

Both Mingi and Yunho slowed down their thrusts, but didn’t completely pull out, choosing to leisurely fuck their cum back into you, as they fought to catch their breath.

“What a loser, cumming first like that,” Mingi insulted Yunho, licking at the saliva left on his lips. 

“Your mom doesn’t have a problem with it,” Yunho chided back, reaching down past your body to smack his hand into the side of Mingi’s ass. 

“Goddamn it, you guys, I’m gonna have to edit that gay shit out.” San brought a hand up to scratch at his head in frustration. “You know what, both of you, get out of my shot and sword fight somewhere else. I’m not doing this right now,” San grumbled, shooing the two panting men away from the couch they had just made a mess on. 

“Bro acts like we don’t know about his late night tutoring sessions with Wooyoung,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, trying to stifle his laughter. 

Mingi almost choked on his breath. “Don’t forget Yeosang. San doesn’t even take physics anymore, either. Yet, he still visits that nerd every Friday like clockwork.” 

“Dude, aren’t they roommates?” Yunho cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, still using a hushed tone, “Do you think they run a train on–”

“Hey! Don’t make me haze the two of you again just for fun…” San warned from the center of the room, glaring daggers at the two men who went quiet almost immediately. His annoyance abruptly melted away once you gingerly reached up to pull his sweatpants down until the frat emblem that was stitched into the thigh pocket was no longer visible. It was when San smacked his heavy length down onto your face, that you let out a pornstar worthy moan. Cha-ching. “Oh, you like that? Hm? Want my cock?”   

“Mm-hmm…” San’s cock slapped down onto your face a second time. You quickly squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from cumming right then and there, biting back a moan all the while. You wondered if it was obvious how truly desperate you were for the man standing above. Fuck it. You were already here, so you might as well get what you came for. “Please, give it to me, Sannie, f-fuck my mouth.” 

San could not believe his luck. His loyal fanbase would absolutely have a field day with this as soon as he uploaded it. He could already see the cash flowing in, and it made him rock hard. He sighed happily to himself, running his fingers through your hair, carefully tucking a few strands behind your ear. “It’s really true what they say…the shy ones are always the most slutty.”  

*“I’m not a slut, I just–” you cut yourself off, not wanting to confess to San right before you were about to suck him off in front of his fraternity and whichever degenerate that would be watching it back later on. You pouted again, looking up at him with wide, sparkly eyes. “I want to be useful to you, like a doll~”  

“Did you hear that, everyone? Y/N here is a real life fuck doll. Let’s treat her as such,” San reminded his friends and housemates who couldn’t help but hover around the couch, a few of them sharing knowing smiles with one another. 

Your heart began to thump away inside your chest, unable to believe that your long-time crush was giving you so much of his attention and affection. It was like a dream come true. As soon as your lips parted to take in a shaky breath, San tightened his grip around your hair, yanking you forward and stuffing your mouth full of cock. “Mmnnf…!” 

Clutching the camera with one hand and the makeshift ponytail he created near the back of your head, San began thrusting sloppily into your open mouth, groaning at the slick sensation of your throat routinely closing around his moving cockhead. “Come on, doll, let me in, yeah? So Sannie can fuck your throat raw.” 

San wasn’t lying. With each wet, rough thrust, he got closer and closer to doing what he promised you. “Mmmn…nnn…” You couldn’t tell if the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes were the result of San’s dizzying performance or the burning arousal you felt stirring inside your core simply from being watched by a room full of men you didn’t know. 

“Aww, crying already, princess? I’ll give you something to really cry about when I’m breeding that slutty cunt of yours,” San chuckled darkly, his strong hips snapping relentlessly, his pace only beginning to falter once he saw your drool mixed with his pre-cum escaping past your chin and dripping down in between your tits, leaving your soiled skin with a shiny complexion. You looked like a true whore. It was going to make the frat leader bust any second. The borderline obsessive look you had inside your teary eyes didn’t help either. “Fuck, oh my god– Somebody take the goddamn camera!” 

The youngest of the group fumbled to grab the camera, using his jacket sleeve to rub off the fingerprints he left behind on the lens, before lifting it up, capturing the exact moment San pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and slid his cock along in between your glistening tits. 

San turned to face the camera for a second, dimples flashing, squishing your tits in between his thick fingers as he fucked them. “See, you guys? This is how you use a doll to her maximum potential,” he explained as though he were a professor on their campus. “Just look at her face. She fuckin’ loves it.” 

Instead of trying to focus on the camera, you gazed directly up at him, your cheeks warm to the touch, still love-struck, even when San’s load landed all over your face. You simply licked away what had landed on your lips, sucking the rest off the frat leader’s fingers once he so lovingly fed it to you. 

San nodded his head in approval, patting yours in an effort to reward you for your hard work. “That’s a good girl…” He tilted his head to the side. “I wanna see what else our pretty doll can do. Sound good?” 

“Really good,” you chimed, licking at your swollen lips, savoring San’s salty essence. 

Wedding bells were ringing in the distance. You would do anything for San, and if that meant letting him treat you like an onahole and fuck you in any position he saw fit for the next hour, then you would happily oblige. By the time your knees gave out from cumming for the nth time, San had you in a full nelson in the middle of the couch, positioned behind you with his arms locked around your upper half, making sure your used body was on complete display. 

“Sannie…gonna…cum…again,” you breathed out in between a few airy moans, your head feeling so heavy that you just let it hang for a second. 

San repositioned himself so that he could clutch your chin, tilting it upwards. His free hand snaked around your waist, laying his palm flat on your tummy, suddenly driving his cock up into you so hard, you couldn’t even speak if you wanted to. “Hey, be a good slut and let them see what you look like when you’re cumming your brains out.” 

You obediently gazed up at the blurry camera past your wet lashes, that is, until your eyes rolled back into your skull, only able to let out a choked gasp as you barreled over the edge of ecstasy. You didn’t have a chance to recover from the overwhelming pleasure, especially not when San pressed his hand down firmly onto the bulge his cock was routinely making inside your stomach. “P-please..! Sannie..!” 

You want another load? Fuck, baby.” Groaning, San took a second to lick one of the tears that was rolling along your cheek before it dropped, his hips slamming against yours so quick, you were already developing bruises, ones that would accompany the bright red love bites scattered across your slick skin. He pressed his lips directly to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “You know, seeing you in class and on campus, putting on that innocent virgin act, I never would’ve pegged you for a cock hungry little slut, but everyone enjoys a good surprise every now and then…don’t they?”

“Yes–yes, yes, yes,” you chanted back, too cockdrunk to even fully process what San was saying, just focused on how full you felt, and how you needed more. 

“Good, because I got a surprise for you too.” Grunting loudly, San lowered his hips and slammed them up into you one last time, holding your trembling body still, painting your pulsing walls white. “Now, say ‘thank you, Sannie.’”

“Thank you, Sannie.” You leaned your head back to nuzzle the side of his cheek, placing your hands over his, feeling him rubbing your lower stomach in small circles, his cock still fully sheathed inside you. 

“Anytime, sugar.” San gave your hair a few strokes as a reward, before pulling out and climbing off of the couch. He took the camera back from the new guy and snapped his fingers at a few of the bricked up housemates standing nearby, pointing in your direction. “Now, show me what you’re really made of.” San gave you a charming, dimpled smile. “Make me proud, okay?” 

As an eager group of half-naked strangers surrounded you on all sides of the couch, some of them reaching out to grope your warm body, you returned San’s smile, your heart skipping a beat or two. “I’ll give it my best just for you~” 

Throughout the night, San, alongside his fraternity, conditioned you with care, meticulously molding you into their prime playtoy, one they enthusiastically passed around, easily making your tape one of the longest in their exclusive film collection. It wasn’t difficult, by any means. You were, of course, the perfect specimen: passive, pliant, and poisoned by the oxytocin that turned your brain into mush. You were a star.

Even when you were being used by more men than you could count, you couldn’t keep your attention off of Sannie, his handsome face only growing blurry when someone would make you gag on their cock, as you didn’t have the most experience with men of their size. You wanted San to yourself again, desperately wishing you could reach out for him instead of another stranger’s twitching erection — but you endured it all, falling further into the rabbit hole of pleasure for the sake of your whirlwind infatuation. 

Everyone in the frat house deeply appreciated your dedication to their amateur film, especially San, who, by the end of it, secured the perfect spot to capture the finality of your desecration. Two of his older friends had just finished inside you, their spent cocks slipping out of your gaping hole and revealing the sticky mess they left behind.

Crouched down in front of the couch, San reached out past the camcorder to spread your puffy lips apart, each and every load you took over the past few hours now slowly spilling out onto his veined hand. “Look at this pretty cunt, you guys…so full of cum, it won’t stop coming out…” He panned up to your face with the camera, giving you a wicked smile from behind it. “You’ll be pregnant in no time, won’t you, doll? With whose baby, I wonder…”

After all that, you somehow managed to act shy, covering your flushed face, giving San heart eyes past your cum-stained, trembling fingers. “Hopefully yours…” 

“Oh, princess.” San gently rubbed his fingers over your sore cunt and clit, his friends’ loads still dribbling out of you all the while. “I don’t think you realize how cute you’re being right now~ Almost like you didn’t just slut yourself out for everyone to see, huh? Mm, do you feel cute, Y/N?” San asked in a babying tone, as he slowly stood up and towered over you. 

“You make me feel cute…” You nuzzled your cheek into the palm of San’s warm hand once he offered it to you, hoping you secured a spot inside his heart after all the hard work you put in. “I would keep going for you if I could still feel my legs.” 

“Aww, there’s always next time, isn’t there?” he suggested slyly, rubbing away some leftover cum from your cheek before caressing the side of your face. “Do you have anything to say to our loyal fanbase, baby?” 

“I love cock, especially yours, Sannie,” you slurred lovingly up at San, through the camera lens, licking your lips, mouth watering at the thought of being invited again to film another movie. “So give me a call, okay?” 

“Oh, I will, believe me.” A smug laugh erupted from San’s puffed-out chest, as he aimed the camera at his pretty boy face for a second to announce, “Gentlemen, we’ve officially turned another good girl into a filthy fuckhole. If you’d like to watch the transformation happen in real time, feel free to stop by our frat. For a good price, we’ll even let some of you bastards have a go.” And with that, he shut the camcorder off and pushed it into the youngest member’s chest, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Fuck it, we might even give you a turn.” 

The freshman choked on his spit. “R-really?” 

“I’m feeling nice today.” San sighed, running his fingers through his sweaty bangs to fix them. When the young man just stood there drooling, the frat leader grimaced. “Upload this to all our sites ASAP, and don’t forget about our twitter page this time,” he demanded, rolling his eyes when he saw the cum stains the embarrassed student left behind on his pants. “And, for fuck’s sake, will you take care of that?” 

As another member brought a can of beer over to San, the frat leader took it and cracked it open. “Can you believe that guy? He’s been here for, what, a month now? And he’s still creaming his pants like a virgin? Unbelievable.”

As you gingerly put your clothes back on, you watched San move around the frat to dab up his friends and clink their beer cans together in celebration of another successful shoot. You couldn’t help but let out a long, lovesick sigh. He would be yours one day. Until then, you would take what you could get, and of course, become a star. 

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @crazyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[vitalverstappen]

Man's Best Wingman - C. Leclerc

summary: they say dogs are a man’s best friend, but a certain dachshund may be man’s best wingman

pairing: Charles Leclerc x veterinarian!reader

warnings: none ( i mean use of y/n if you count that)

word count: 2.6k

It was no surprise that Charles Leclerc adored animals, specifically dogs. So, when word spread like wildfire around Monaco that he had adopted Leo, it was only a matter of time before the duo showed up in your clinic. 

You had heard about Leo from the gossip mill - Charles had been spotted walking the dog around the streets of Monte Carlo, and the photos of the two of them quickly made the rounds on social media. The sight of the Formula 1 driver, usually so composed and intense, walking around with an adorable dachshund puppy had the whole city cooing with affection. 

You had been working as a vet for a few years now, as one of the only ones in Monaco, so you were no stranger to having a celebrity walk through your doors. In fact, you had Alex Albon walking through your doors practically every month with the zoo he had. But hearing your techs swoon at the fact Charles was in your clinic, made you question how big this guy really was. 

“Y/n, Leo Leclerc is in room four for you. He’s here for his routine exam. So far everything looks good,” one of your techs said. 

“I bet Charles looks even better,” another one called, overhearing the conversation. 

Your eyes rolled, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at their remarks. “Focus on Leo, not Charles,” you teased, though you knew their excitement was understandable. 

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you grabbed your stethoscope and walked toward room four. You were a professional, after all, and your job was to make sure Leo was in tip-top shape, not to let the celebrity connection distract you. 

As you knocked lightly on the door, you heard a soft voice call from the other side. “Come in!”

You opened the door to find Charles sitting on the exam table, with Leo happily bouncing around at his feet. The little dachshund’s tail wagged furiously as soon as he spotted you, making a beeline for you as though he’d known you for ages. 

“Hey there, Leo,” you said, crouching down to meet the enthusiastic puppy. You pet him for a second before standing back up. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I’ll be your primary veterinarian.”

Leo’s little tail wagged even harder at the mention of his name, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the sight. His big brown eyes stared up at you, full of trust and excitement. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Charles said as he got off of the exam table. His smile was easy, and you noticed how much more approachable he looked when he wasn’t in his racing suit. “I’m glad to see you’re the one handling Leo today.”

You nodded, doing your best to focus on the task at hand, though your heart was pounding into your throat. “He’s a cutie. And I’ve heard a lot about him from the clinic’s gossip mill. Seems like you two are quite the duo.”

Charles chuckled lightly, glancing down at Leo, who was now sitting patiently at his feet, as if sensing the shift in attention. “Yeah, Leo’s been a good distraction for me. Definitely makes my life a bit more fun, and I think he’s a great companion for my downtime.”

You turned to Leo, picking him up and placing him on the exam table, where Charles once sat. “He’s got a lot of energy for a little guy. Looks like he’s been keeping you on your toes.”

Charles shrugged, the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. “He definitely does, but I love having him around. Plus, he’s a great way to relax after a stressful weekend, just walking him around and enjoying the quieter side of things.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, settling your stethoscope into place. “Let’s make sure everything is going well with him. I’ll just start with a quick check-up, get his vitals and make sure he’s healthy.”

You focused on Leo, quickly going through the routine exam. His heart rate was normal, his coat was shiny and healthy, and his eyes were bright. After a quick examination, you looked up at Charles. “He’s in great shape, Charles. No issues at all. He’s a happy, healthy little guy.” 

Charles sighed in relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I might be doing something wrong.”

“Not at all,” you assured him, chuckling. “You’re doing everything right. It’s clear you care about him a lot.”

You scooped Leo into your arms and informed Charles you would be taking Leo into the back room to give him his shots. What you didn’t mention was that it was also an opportunity for all of the techs to fawn over the puppy. 

Once you brought Leo back into the exam room, Charles' eyes lit up, though you were unsure if it was at you, or the dog. You gave him a few instructions for Leo’s next few weeks, including a reminder to keep up with his vaccinations. “He’s good to go! Just a few follow-ups, but nothing to worry about.”

You bid goodbye to the driver as you guided him up to the receptionist's desk. There, you gave instructions on the next exam date. 

Charles had the day of the exam circled on his calendar the minute he got home. Sure, he wanted to be a good dog dad and pay attention to Leo’s appointments, but he also couldn’t wait to see you again. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that since Leo had done so well, the follow up appointments that had been scheduled were only with the techs, not with you. He went through with the appointments, but in the back of his mind, he had to find a way to see you again. And thankfully, Leo gave him plenty of excuses. 

It all started when Leo ate a blade of grass. 

Now, Charles knew that eating grass wasn’t going to kill his dog, but he was worried it might make him a little sick… and he wanted to see you again. 

So, he scheduled an appointment.

As soon as you saw Charles and Leo’s names on the schedule, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You tried to shake it off, you were just doing your job, but there was something about seeing him that made you feel a little lighter. 

As the time drew nearer, you found yourself making sure everything was in order, the clinic bustling with its usual activity. Your techs were curious no doubt - they’d fawned over the duo when they took care of the dog’s follow up appointments, and definitely talked about the “celebrity dog dad” a little more than they probably should’ve. 

“Y/n, Charles and Leo are in room three for you. He mentioned Leo had eaten some grass earlier today, but so far, everything seems normal,” your tech informed you 

You walked towards the exam room, preparing yourself to see the driver and his dog again. As you entered, you saw Charles sitting on the chair this time, gently scratching behind Leo’s ears. The little dachshund’s tail was wagging, and he immediately perked up when he saw you, jumping down from Charles’ lap. 

“Hey, Leo,” you greeted, crouching down to pet the excited pup. “What’s all this fuss about grass, huh?” 

Charles looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N. Yeah, Leo decided to sample some grass this morning, and now I’m just a little paranoid.”

You chuckled, standing up to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Dogs eat grass all the time. Most of the time, it’s harmless. But let’s take a quick look just to be sure.”

You began your routine examination of Leo, checking his belly, feeling for any signs of discomfort, and listening to his heart. Leo seemed perfectly fine, happily squirming and wagging his tail as you worked. 

“See?” you said, glancing up at Charles. “He seems to be in good spirits. No signs of anything bothering him.” 

Charles let out a relieved sigh, but there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve just been overthinking it. But I’m still getting used to being a dog dad, you know?” 

You smiled warmly, meeting his gaze. “Like I said at our first appointment, you’re going great, Charles. Leo’s in good hands.” 

He looked at you with a soft smile, and for a moment, there was a brief pause in the conversation. It was like neither of you wanted to break the moment, but eventually, Charles cleared his throat and stood up. 

“Thanks again, Y/N. Seriously,” he said, giving you an appreciative look. “I’m glad I came in today, even if it was just for a little blade of grass.” 

“It’s no problem at all,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “Take care of Leo, and we’ll see you for the next check-up.” 

But you saw him much sooner than the next check-up. 

Only a few weeks after the grass related appointment, your receptionist came into the back area, where you and your techs were prepping for surgery. You had a busy day ahead of you, with having back to back appointments all day, and the only break you got was your thirty minutes of lunch. 

“Mr. Leclerc is on the phone,” your receptionist began, causing a bunch of oooo’s from your staff. “He said that Leo stubbed his toe and wanted to see if you had availability for today.”

You paused for a moment, wiping your hands on your scrubs as you turned toward your receptionist. “Leo stubbed his toe?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile. You could hear the excitement in your staff’s whispers behind you, but you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much Charles’ calls were starting to feel like little breaks from the clinic chaos. 

“Yeah, that’s what he said,” your receptionist replied, her tone amused. “Should I tell him to hold on or that you’re in surgery?” 

You quickly ran through your schedule in your head. It was packed, but a stubbed toe? You could squeeze that in. You didn’t want to seem like you were too eager, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at the thought of seeing Charles again. 

“I can take a shorter lunch,” you said, giving your receptionist a quick nod. “Schedule him for the last twenty minutes of that half hour.” 

Your receptionist raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she turned to make the call. As soon as the door closed behind her, your techs immediately leaned in, their eyes sparking with curiosity.

“You know you two aren’t fooling anyone, right?” one of them teased. “You’re excited to see Charles again.

“And he’s got to be wanting to see you if he’s making an appointment over a stubbed toe,” another one chimed in. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to stifle a grin. ‘It’s just a stubbed toe,” you replied, but your voice betrayed you, laced with a hint of amusement. “He’s just a concerned dog dad. Nothing more.” 

Your techs exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it. 

“Uh-huh,” one of them smirked. “A ‘concerned dog dad’ who keeps calling in for the tiniest little thing. Sure.”

“Maybe you should get him a frequent flyer card,” another suggested, grinning. 

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth growing in your cheeks. “Focus, guys. You have things to do, remember?” 

They held up their hands in mock surrender, but you could still feel their eyes on you as you turned back to finish prepping for the day. 

When the status of Leo’s appointment changed to “arrived” on your computer, it took everything in you to remain calm and composed. The butterflies in your stomach only grew as you heard Leo’s excited barks from down the hall. 

Once your techs informed you that the Leclercs were ready to see you, you made your way to the exam room, trying to keep yourself steady with every step. When you opened the door, Charles was sitting there, looking as relaxed as ever, with Leo perched on his lap. 

“Hey there, you,” you greeted Leo first, just like you always did. “I heard you got a stubbed toe this time around.”

Charles chuckled, giving you a sheepish look. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But he seemed to be limping a little, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating his concern for his dog. “It’s never ridiculous to take care of our furry friends,” you said, your eyes briefly meeting his. There was a warmth in his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. 

You got Leo up on the exam table, gently checking his paws and making sure everything looked good. As you worked, you noticed Charles’ gaze lingering on you - though this time, it felt different. His smile was softer, more intentional, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 

Finally, after checking Leo’s paw, you turned to Charles. “Good news. It’s just a little sore, probably from the way he landed. No major damage.”

Charles visibly relaxed, his tension easing as he gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

As you gave Leo a few gentle pats and wrote down the instructions for recovery, you could feel Charles’ eyes on you again. There was a quiet moment between you two, one that made the air feel just a little thicker, like there was more unsaid than spoken. 

“Thank you for always being so patient with me, and with Leo, and I appreciate you squeezing us in at the last minute,” Charles said, standing up to walk toward the door. He paused for a beat, then glanced back at you with a small but meaningful smile. “Would I be able to squeeze into your schedule again sometime, for coffee or drinks?”

You felt your heart flutter as the words hung in the air. It was the question you’d been waiting for, yet the reality of it still made your breath catch in your throat. For a second, you just looked at him, the familiar warmth in his smile making your pulse quicken. 

You tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t hide the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “I think I could make some time for you,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’m not usually this free, but for you? I’ll make an exception.”

Charles’s smile widened, and you could see a spark of relief in his eyes. He stepped back into the room, the distance between you narrowing as he moved closer. “Tomorrow? After work?” he asked, his tone a little more tentative, as if waiting for your confirmation. 

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster now. “Tomorrow works. Let’s say, six?” 

He gave a small, excited nod, clearly trying to contain his enthusiasm. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up. I’ll make sure not to keep you waiting.”

You both stood there for a moment, the air thick with anticipation, before he gave a final smile and turned to leave. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

As he exited the room, Leo wagged his tail, clearly eager to follow. You watched him walk out, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. You leaned against the exam room table for a second, trying to catch your breath, before shaking yourself out of the daze. You still had a job to do, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the thought of tomorrow played over in your mind.

[hollyoongs]

⤷ MY BABY LIKE TO STRING ME US ON!

시놉시스┆ 𝙟ake𝗵͢oon, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +9.9k ꒰ ⌗ smut with plot ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

─────⠀cursing, kissing, protected sex, oral (male and female), choking, use of lube (lots of it), fingering (anal and vaginal), double penetration, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, doll, etc), dirty talk (brief), daddy kink, praise kink, spanking (one time, if I remember correctly), squirting and let me know if I missed anything.

You looked at your watch; you could feel the excitement going through your veins as the time went by. After months of saving every penny you could get from your part-time job, you could finally afford tickets to a rock concert of your favorite band, Crimson Eclipse.

The concert had been on your mind for months ever since you saw the post of their official account; your brain was filled with fantasies of screaming along to their songs and losing yourself in the sea of fans, recording every now and then as you could feel your throat hurt from all the singing. And here you were, front row, right in the center. The venue was packed already; people were simply taking selfies, preparing the handmade banners they held, or running to the bathroom, the muffled sound of soundchecks echoing faintly through the heavy doors that made the place more pumped up. You adjusted your outfit—a mini black dress with an oversized leather jacket. It was not the best outfit for a concert, knowing that you would be jumping, and the boots with heels you were wearing also didn’t help at all, but that actually didn’t matter. It was your favorite band’s concert, and you were going to go all out.

You shook your head to erase any negative thoughts and took a picture of the spot you were in, the screen focusing on the stage, and you smiled, already knowing how worth it it was to pay for the first-row ticket. You’ve been a fan of them ever since you saw that recommended video of them at the ripe age of fourteen doing a cover of “Welcome to the Black Parade,” and you were still here, eight, almost nine, years later. It made you proud how far they have gone, winning awards and gaining a lot of recognition and fame, but you saw how they didn’t lose themselves or start disliking what they do, music.

The lights went out, surprising everyone who thought there had been a technical failure, but soon that was cleared by the sound of an electric guitar that alerted you, followed by excited screams that made everyone look around to find the source of the sound. This was the first (and hopefully, last) time the first row was conspiring on your contrary; at least, you could get a view thanks to the heels.

Two guys appeared, and you could help but scream at the very familiar shadow of the dynamic duo, Jay and Sunghoon. The two of them were rocking a new look, black hair, standing back-to-back under a soft spotlight that made them stand out. Both of them moved in different directions, Jay—sporting his signature eyebrow piercing—heading toward the first rows, all this while playing without missing a beat, drawing cheers from the audience. Soon after that small intro, the lights on them vanished, and so did they.

A new spotlight illuminated another person, this time, Heeseung, on the stage. He also had a new hairstyle, silver hair to be exact, with his guitar slung across him. He played with the microphone in his hand, his tongue tracing his lips, a small habit he had whenever he was about to sing that you found endearing the majority of the time. Key word, majority of the time.

"Put your loving hand out, baby…" he sang, all the spotlights coming on to point at the performers.

You glanced at the stage, Jake’s shirtless body welcoming everyone as he was playing with drumsticks, the flirty smirk popping out immediately at the cheer while Jay stood on top of the speakers.

Your loose hair was brushed aside delicately, the touch of unfamiliar lips on your shoulder trailing lower beneath my jaw, making you turn, ready to yell at whoever it was to not let you peacefully check on them, but the words froze in your throat when you realized it was Sunghoon. His lips moved closer to your ear as the cameras of several cellphones were pointed at you, recording the fan service you were receiving.

"I’m beggin’……"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was the only word running through your mind as you watched the guy walk away from your side and head to the stage with a smirk on his face, most likely pleased by your reaction.

“Fuck, you’re so lucky!” A girl next to you screamed, but you didn’t pay any attention to the glow of her phone recording your dumbfounded expression, too busy processing what just happened. Sunghoon was now standing behind the microphone, his fingers skillfully moving across the bass strings, still wearing that superior smirk that was quickly erased to focus on playing the right chords. Your gaze shifted behind him, and you were hit with a wave of surprise—and an even stronger wave of heat on your cheeks.

Jake was looking at everyone there, soon laying his eyes on you, his exposed tattoos making you trace them with your eyes; sometimes you couldn’t even see them properly because of either one, his flexed arms were moving rhythmically and passionately as he was playing the instrument, or two, that made you lose yourself in the song. His tongue peeked out slightly as he winked at someone in the crowd—or one of the members, occasionally. The piercing in the middle of his lips caught the light, a new piercing.

Yeah, they were going to be your reason to not be alive.

You could physically feel every note they played vibrate through your body—it was the reason why your body matched the energy the band radiated through jumping and singing every lyric. You had only heard the songs through your headphones at a very concerning volume, and even then, their songs caught and captivated you that another band has never done before. But now, performing right in front of you, completely live and giving their all to every song of the setlist, was like entering a whole new world.

The songs were hypnotizing, and they were unstoppable.

You couldn’t define a word to describe Heeseung, but one close to your way of thinking was striking. His black-polished nails contrasting against the silver rings on his fingers and his red microphone in his hands. The butterfly tattoo he recently got on his neck drew the eye, and his gaze never left the crowd, ensuring no one felt left out. You truly can wrap your head around the fact of someone having such charisma; it could be the fact that he was made for the stage, to project everything he had on his mind and connect with people with an ease that seemed almost otherworldly.

Jay, who was dressed in leather and chains with his dark hair falling into his eyes, was the one who brought fire to every performance. Matter of fact, everybody did, but he has this power that pulls the crowd with a single word; his guitar solos could make any room fall silent in awe due to his confidence because, to the fans, every single note he played was a piece of his past, present, and future woven into the strings of his guitar, making even the loudest venues feel intimate, letting them know that it wasn’t only technique but emotion and honesty.

Sunghoon can’t be left out, his hair slicked back, and his ripped jeans left little to the imagination, especially paired with his sleeveless shirt that showed off his defined muscles. He was a whole visual, but his passion for the music and how he can get things done was what made him him. He couldn’t simply exist in the background; he was intensity and precision incarnate, making his stage presence wasn’t about flash—it was about power. It didn’t matter if his fingers danced across the strings, if his voice was being for backup vocals or main; it was that fire in his eyes that was the proof that passion and love could be silent but deafening at the same time.

And Jake, funny enough, he was the heartbeat of the band, his hands always a blur as they commanded the drums with power and precision, channeling the rhythm that kept everything—and everyone—together. His perpetually messy blonde hair with his loose pants, low enough that they showed the ‘Calvin Klein’ elastic, and no shirt was a statement, as if he didn’t need to try hard to turn heads. He was dynamic, a force of nature on stage that was so effortless yet impactful that it made no doubt why he was one of the best artists, along with his brothers.

As you saw all of them three smiling and soaking in the moment, it popped to your mind that they were one of the few bands that weren’t just performing; they were living, breathing, and thriving under the stage lights, and their presence demanded attention, not because they forced it, but because it was impossible to look away. And you would make sure to give them all your attention with proud tears in your eyes.

You could feel your throat getting sore by the minute because of screaming along with the rest of the crowd; your feet were slightly hurting, though that was actually the least of your problems. About five—maybe eight—songs later, the band took a well-deserved break. Everyone started to take out their phones, including yourself, the moment you all saw Heeseung raising his hands to greet the crowd, flashing his perfect row of teeth that had more than a few people sighing in love.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming to our show tonight. Are you having a good time?” he asked. The crowd erupted with various affirmative responses, making the band smile. “That’s a relief to hear. If it’s your first time here, let me introduce ourselves. My name is Heeseung, and I’m the main vocalist and guitarist. To my left is our incredible bassist, Sunghoon; our star guitarist, Jay; and behind us, the best drummer I’ve ever met in my fucking life, Jake.” Each member greeted the crowd in their own way, gaining all the cheers from everyone in the venue.

You turned to see Jake leaning against a speaker with Sunghoon, both of them wiping their sweaty bodies with small towels. The Australian's eyes found yours again, his smirk widening as he caught you staring. He mouthed something—Well, hello there—before taking a swig from his water bottle, something that didn’t go unnoticed by a few fans there, and responding to him, tilting his head back in a way that made your knees weak. Sunghoon leaned in to say something to him, but Jake waved him off with a grin, his focus still locked on you.

“Before we get back to the set, this next song is really special to us; it’s really close to our hearts. Hope you all enjoy it.” Once again, the crowd cheered; now the light was slightly dimmed, leaving a soft blue glow to everyone, an unusual color to use since they only used red lights.

The moment the opening chords were heard, everyone realized it was a new song; you did a small zoom on your phone to only focus on the band, the crowd soon finding themselves swaying to the music, completely captivated by the unreleased song. In the middle of the song, Sunghoon had a bass solo where he got down to interact with the people, going from the back to the front, doing a few stops to interact with as many people as he could. By the time he approached the first row, he stopped in front of you.

Sunghoon knelt down right in front of you, the strap of his bass pressing against his chest as he played with ease, his fingers dancing over the strings and his gaze locking with yours. The corner of his lips quivered into a smirk when he saw the way your mouth hung slightly open, your awe written all over your face due to the talent he had. He leaned closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, not minding the people feeling his exposed arms or grabbing his chest, only you.

Your breath hitched as his smirk got a little wider. Before you could react, he straightened up, still playing, and gave you a wink before moving down the line to interact with other fans. The crowd around went wild, but your heart was pounding too loudly in your ears to care; you laughed in disbelief, forcing yourself back to enjoy the slow rock song. The song ended, and soon, the familiar opening riff of “Karma” blasted through the speakers.

You held your phone high, capturing snippets of the band. Jay took center stage, shredding his guitar like it was an extension of himself, his sharp features illuminated by the flashing lights. Sunghoon and Heeseung joined him at the front; Jake, meanwhile, was behind the drum kit, keeping the tempo tight.

Song after song, the setlist didn’t let anyone down. Fan favorites like “Blockbuster” and “The Walls” both had the entire venue screaming all the lyrics back at them. By the time the band announced their last song, the crowd was buzzing, their energy at its peak. In the middle of everything, you saw how Jay was now the one sitting behind the drums, and Jake picked up another guitar; the surprise on everyone was evident, but considering the fact that Jake was a guitarist who later fell in love with the drums, all of us knew he was not going to disappoint.

“We love you all,” Heeseung said into the microphone, his silver hair damp with sweat. “Thank you for making tonight unforgettable. This last one’s for you. Make some fucking noise!”

The band launched into their closing song, “Shout Out.” Jake and Sunghoon, back to back, played guitar in unison, and Heeseung jumped into the crowd; this was one of the many highlights of the concert. Confetti cannons exploding were the reason the crowd was being showered in glittering red and gold paper. The moment Heeseung went back to the stage, they did their final bows, some of them collecting presents they were being thrown at and others giving the towels they used to clean their sweat by some of the fan requests.

The house lights came on as the band exited the stage, and the crowd began to disperse. You were still on cloud nine when your phone vibrated in your pocket; you answered the call.

“Hey, Da Bi, what’s up?” you said, and you could sense from the other line that she was at a party.

“Y/N, did you forget that today is Sun Hee’s party at the Avalon Club, right?” You opened your eyes wide, already moving through the crowd to go. “Guys, she forgot! Pay me!”

“I’m so sorry; I’m already on my way; I think it’s near, right? I was at the concert.”

“Oh yeah, how was the concert?” You smiled wide at the mention of the concert that you were positive you won’t forget.

“It was incredible,” you said, your voice still hoarse from screaming along to the songs. “I can’t even explain it—everything was perfect. Sunghoon literally stopped right in front of me during his bass solo.”

Da Bi let out a dramatic gasp. “Shut up! Sunghoon? The bassist who looks like he walked straight out of a fantasy novel? You’re kidding!”

“I’m not,” you replied with a laugh. “I think I’m still in shock. And Jake kept looking at me too. I swear, I’m not imagining it.”

Da Bi’s voice rose in excitement. “Okay, now I really need all the details when you get here. You’d better hurry before we drink all the cocktails without you.”

“I’m on it,” you said, weaving your way through the dispersing crowd. “Save me something fruity, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you quickly pulled up directions to Avalon Club on your phone. It wasn’t too far—a ten-minute walk at most. You adjusted your bag, made sure your phone still had enough charge, and joined the stream of concertgoers heading toward the main exit.

The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside. The streets were alive with post-concert energy, people chatting excitedly about the show or taking pictures with their newly bought merch. You caught sight of a food truck nearby and briefly considered grabbing a snack but decided against it. Sun Hee’s party wasn’t something you could casually walk into late.

As you hurried down the sidewalk, your phone buzzed again. This time it was a message from Da Bi.

Da Bi: The DJ is killing it tonight. Don’t make me send Sun Hee to drag you here!

You laughed under your breath and picked up the pace. The distant thrum of bass from Avalon Club grew louder with each step, and because your tension was too high, you were ready to make your friend happy.

When you finally reached the club, you could see a line of people waiting to get in, the neon sign glowing bright against the night sky. You spotted Da Bi near the entrance, waving frantically when she saw you.

“You made it!” she said, pulling you into a quick hug. “Come on, let’s get inside before Sun Hee loses her mind.”

“Lead the way,” you said with a grin, already feeling the infectious energy of the music pulling you in. Since it was late, about to be eleven p.m., there were more people than usual.

Now that you really took a look at the place, it was packed; the music was pounding through your chest as you and Da Bi weaved through the throng of bodies on the dance floor, the diverse color lights pulsed to the beat, casting an almost hypnotic glow over the crowd. You could see how you two were spotted almost immediately from the VIP section by the birthday girl, waving wildly at the sight of you and your—hopefully—future girlfriend. She wore a sparkly silver dress that shimmered with the minimum movement she made, a drink in her hand and a contagious smile on her face.

“Finally!” Sun Hee exclaimed as you approached, pulling you into a hug. “You’re lucky we love you, or I would’ve sent someone to drag you here myself.”

“I’m sorry, but I have an amazing excuse. The concert was insane,” you replied, laughing as Da Bi pushed a fruity cocktail into your hand and, with his free one, grabbed Da Bi’s hand.

“Drink first, details later,” Da Bi declared, already swaying to the music.

You took a sip, the sweetness and tang refreshing after the rush to get here; you greeted Da Bi’s friends to not be disrespectful. The music shifted to a more upbeat track, and soon the three of you were lost in the rhythm, dancing without a care in the world. Sun Hee’s party was in full swing, complete with a table laden with drinks and snacks for the group.

There was a moment where Sun Hee was almost grinding between you and Da Bi, already drunk enough to even grab you from your neck. Some of the party invites were doing a circle around us, enjoying the show with their own partners or some random person they met at the club. You looked to your left, and you thought that the alcohol on your head was making you create scenarios in relation to what happened at the concert, but when you saw one of them raising his hand right in your direction, you knew you were not losing your mind.

At the corner of the VIP section, you saw Jake with a girl on his lap kissing his neck, his hooded eyes locked with your body and his hand waving at you. You returned the greeting and saw Sunghoon. He was seated beside Jake, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid swirling as he tilted it slightly. His sharp gaze was piercing, trailing over your form with intensity. The shadows that the club lights created accentuated his features—his jawline sharp enough to cut, his lips pressed into a faint smirk, only looking away to some fans that recognized them and wanted a sign.

Your eyes went back to Jake, and when he realized that, his smirk deepened as he leaned back further, the girl on his lap completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between you two. Looking around, you found Heeseung and Jay playing drinking games. He whispered something into Sunghoon's ear, making him giggle, and their eyes never left yours, as if daring you to keep looking.

“Holy shit,” Da Bi whispered, her eyes wide and noticing the guys you were looking at. “Are they…?”

“Yes,” you said, barely able to get the word out, mostly because you don’t want them to have the idea that you’re stalking them.

“Okay, now you’re just living in a fantasy,” Da Bi muttered, shaking her head in disbelief as her grip tightened around Sun Hee’s waist.

You turned back to her, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I swear, I didn’t plan this!”

“Well, if this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is,” Sun Hee said, nudging you, her tipsy self still finding the way to speak. “Now, are we going to give them a show or what? Kiss me since you didn’t bring a present."

You looked at Da Bi, and she nodded, giving you the green light to grab the back of Sun Hee’s neck and put your lips together; the euphoria of the moment even made Da Bi not have a care in the world and roam with her hands over the birthday girl's body while kissing her neck.

The crowd around you was eating it up, and you were almost positive that you didn’t have to glance over to know Jake and Sunghoon were still watching—if you act cocky, it is obvious.

Sun Hee broke the kiss with a mischievous laugh, her eyes gleaming as she turned to Da Bi, pulling her into the moment as well, kissing her with passion. The three of you danced together, hands roaming, bodies swaying in sync with the beat. When you finally dared to look back at the VIP section, Jake’s expression was unreadable, and so was Sunghoon's. The girl on his lap was trying to get Jake’s attention by showing more of her cleavage with her hands caressing his chest, but his focus was solely on you. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, ‘Keep going.’.

Sunghoon, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, one hand resting on his thigh while the other one played with the back of his neck. His eyes were sharp, following every move you made; he soon reached out to take another sip of his glass, his lips curling into a subtle smirk when your gaze locked with his.

Da Bi leaned close to your ear, her voice barely audible over the music. “Just in case! There are free rooms upstairs!”

You laugh, already knowing what your friend was trying to say. “You’re out of your mind.”

She grinned, nudging you playfully. “You’ve got their attention. Just in case you want to take them both.”

You rolled your eyes at Da Bi's cheeky comment, though your lips curved into a sly grin at the thought of it. "Both? That's ambitious, even for me."

"Oh, fuck off! Don't act like you don't want it. You're practically making them beg from up here." Sun Hee said, looking at you before giving a quick look to the club. "Look, the girl from Jake's lap set off! Go get them!"

"Sun Hee, they are celebrities, and they are already taking pictures of them! If they see me going with even one of them, it’s most likely that they will get my address in no time. Please forget it." You decided to give your attention to Sun Hee, who was dancing with her friends, and you joined in with the iconic Big Bang song ‘Fantastic Baby.’. From the corner of your eye, you saw how Da Bi disappeared.

You stopped dancing when you saw how drunk Sun Hee was and how she was tripping with nothing but her feet, taking her hand so she could sit down at your separate VIP section. Da Bi started looking for the two of you; you caught her attention by putting your hands up in a waving motion. She quickly came, and you decided to go to the bar, coming back soon after with a bottle of water for Sun Hee.

"Where did you go?" You screamed so she could hear you as you sat down beside Da Bi.

"I went to the person that plays with the lights; they will turn them off and play for like half an hour with the colored lights."

"Are you out of your mind?! Why did you do that?!" Da Bi rolled her eyes as her palm touched your exposed thigh; you could also see how the alcohol was getting to her as she did a small giggle and forgot what she was about to say.

"So you can get down with both of them; when was the last time you had really good sex?" Sun Hee entered the conversation. "And if I’m being honest… I want to fuck Da Bi." You opened your eyes but soon laughed about it.

"You two are insane." You laughed, and just like Da Bi said, the lights turned off to make an entrance to the colored lights, distracting people as more bottles came their way.

"Go grab those sticks and sign that NDA; make us proud!" Da Bi made you stand up and slapped your ass. You walked a few steps before looking back at them; they were already making out, so you had no other choice but to go.

You started to walk to the bar for a shot of vodka to make you even braver to do anything with them; the liquid burned, but at least it did the work to calm your nerves. You exhaled deeply; the calm came to you in contrast to the wild environment you were in. People were coming from left to right to the bar, and soon, a person sat on the free chair next to you.

"You look like you've got something on your mind." His voice was loud enough to make you listen. You knew that voice like the palm of your hand, of course you did. The nerves came back when you saw Jake, leaning casually against the bar and close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

You raised an eyebrow, swirling the vodka in your second glass before drinking it all, the feeling a little more tolerable than before. “It's not very often that a person of your favorite group looks at you too much and comes to talk to you. You know?"

"You grabbed my eyes at the concert. Did you enjoy the show, by the way?" The smoothness of Jake’s voice near your ear when he decided to move closer captivated you. It was not the first time you heard his voice, but having it near you was such a different thing. Because of the closure between the two of you, you could see how his shirt was open just enough to tease the edge of a tattoo on his collarbone, smirking at the memory of him being shirtless in the show.

“You guys were unforgettable. You sang my favorite songs.” Your comment made Jake chuckle, not in a funny manner, but in a proud one.

“Good. I’d hate to think all the effort went unnoticed.” You got brave enough to create a small distance between the two of you, if it was possible, noticing how his gaze dipped and looked at your lips, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks warm.

“Sorry about him; he likes to flirt a lot.” A loud voice appeared, and by the smile on Jake’s face, you could think it was Sunghoon, and sure it was, once your head turned around to the direction of the voice. Your eyes met, and Sunghoon gave a side smile, a very common gesture of his. “I’m Sunghoon.”

“I already know that, but it's really nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You grabbed his extended hand when you noticed it, his thumb caressing the top of it before letting it go. “I’m a fan since your MCR YouTube covers.”

Sunghoon’s smile now grew bigger, his characteristic shy smile with his fangs showing up and a genuine smile from Jake. “Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve heard that.”

“We’re lucky then; thank you for sticking around this long.” Jake said, and you grab another shot on your way, drinking it all at once and ordering some for Jake and Sunghoon. The moment they arrive, you point at them.

“Thank you for drinking these shots,” you teased, feeling a sudden surge of confidence. The bartender gave you six shots; the boys looked at each other before drinking three each of them. The DJ changed the music, people practically screaming when the speakers were blasting “Don’t Stop The Music” by Rihanna. You stood up and walked a few steps away before turning to them. “Wanna dance?”

“Who are you asking?” Sunghoon said, pointing at him and later, Jake.

“To both of you.” You tilted your head to look at them both, and Jake stood up from his chair. You went a little deeper into the crowd, and soon you felt a presence behind you. Jake gave you a smirk before grabbing your hips, and Sunghoon found his way in front of you, and your drunk self wrapped your arms behind his neck.

All the people were stuck together, and the sultry rhythm made you feel both of their bodies so close to you that you locked eyes with Sunghoon again, and just like Jake minutes before, his gaze went to your glossy lips and right back to your eyes.

“You don’t have to be shy,” you teased; your voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music.

One of his hands left your waist and directly moved your hair aside to speak directly through your ear. “I don’t think I am. We just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything.”

“You both don’t make me feel any of those things. You two make me feel good". You gave a small laugh after the double senses of your last sentence, gaining a small smile from him as he noticed your voice steady and sure despite the alcohol.

“We can make you feel good.” Sunghoon’s hand on your waist traced imaginary figures on your sides; your right hand travelled sensually from his shoulder to the back of his head, softly grabbing some of his hair, a dominant move from your part.

“You have permission to prove it,” the words left your mouth, and his hand threw your hair back completely before giving a small bite on your ear, making you shut your eyes as you sighed. He started to pamper kisses from the back of your ear to your neck, feeling how he suctioned softly a couple of times and gaining soft moans from you, throwing your head back and falling on Jake’s chest in the process when he found a specific spot on your neck.

Jake watched everything, and you could tell how he was enjoying it fully; he saw how you opened your eyes to connect with his eyes, and you grabbed his right hand to put it right on the front of your neck, feeling the coolness of his rings making a contrast with your warm skin.

“Kiss me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice when his lips crashed with yours, and it was everything you expected as the moment was turning more intimate—intense, dirty, and needy. His hand tightened slightly around your neck as the kiss deepened, slightly limiting the oxygen you were breathing while feeling the coolness of your middle lip piercing. Sunghoon didn’t stop either; his hands went slowly to your ass, squishing the flesh of it as he was watching, slowly losing all self-control. All three had lust in their eyes.

The moment Jake left your lips, he made your head turn to Sunghoon, your hand flying to the back of his head again as he kissed you. His kiss was more sensual, he was practically savoring the moment, but when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip in a way to seek permission, it became rougher losing it when he sucked your tongue, and action that you secretly loved, his lips catching the sinful moan you gave to him. Now, you could feel Jake’s plump lips attacking the other side of your neck, and you smiled in the middle of the kiss.

Sunghoon bit your bottom lip, sighing at your state, his left hand stopping on your face to caress your cheek, watching your swollen lips and cleaning some of the saliva from the corner of your lips; you quickly wrapped your lips around his thumb when he touched your bottom lip with a teasing smirk playing on your face. The sudden move made Sunghoon's brows raise, his lips curving into a cocky grin.

“You look like a dream.” Sunghoon said, and Jake hummed in response.

“I look even better naked.” You didn’t want to sound like a ‘pick me,’ but if there was a chance to actually have them both by the end of the night, you wouldn’t waste it.

“Sunghoon, go to the manager so he can rent the room above us.” Since Jake was the oldest, he nodded and went to find him, making his way quietly in the crowd so he couldn't be seen. You and Jake made your way to a nonvisible corner following Sunghoon with the same caution as his friend, who ended up talking to one person that you recognize as the manager.

The club was still dark, green lights flashing every now and then with the beat of electronic music. Jake leaned casually against the wall of the reached corner, diving back to your lips and kissing you slowly, not trying to rush things despite having your approval. His hand was going south, handfully grabbing your ass while yours went to his shirt, undoing one button.

“All done; we can go to the room.” Sunghoon’s voice interrupted the moment, all three going through the hidden stairs to the last room of the hallway between laughs and slight touches. With a key, Sunghoon opened the door, making you enter first, the both of them joining right after.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the low thrum of the club music faded into a distant hum. Your hands were instantly placed on each side of your jacket, removing it and tossing it to an individual couch in the room, not noticing that Sunghoon was also taking his leather jacket off his body to leave it on a table as well as his rings. Jake came closer to you, his hand reaching for yours to put your chests together.

“Are you sure about this?” You could tell he asked for both of them, but you had already planted the idea in your head.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Sunghoon approaches you after a few moments, his hands finding your waist as he draws you in for another kiss, hearing Jake scoffing at the action. You felt how his kiss was slow until it became rough like the one you had on the dance floor. Despite the heat that was radiating from both of you, his hands felt cold when they went to lower the back zipper of your dress, yours going immediately to his belt.

Jake’s presence loomed behind you, his hands brushing along your arms before resting on your hips. “Don’t get greedy, Hoon.” Jake’s breath was hot against your ear, and before going down your neck, you felt the cool air touch your back when Sunghoon successfully zipped down the dress and Jake let the fabric fall to the floor in a soft heap.

Sunghoon went directly to your back, separating Jake slightly, feeling how your bra got loose in a quick motion. You took the end of his white shirt, taking it off him with his help; meeting his unknown belly button piercing, a small gasp left your mouth. Usually, men will only have the traditional piercing, the two dots, but you will never imagine seeing a silver cross-shaped, dangling belly button piercing. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. When the fuck did he get that?

“Not what you expected?” You denied it, and your hands went to his small waist, fingers lingering on the pretty jewelry.

“But it suits you.” You smiled as you made a 180° turn to face the Aussie boy, clamming his lips in a kiss. His hands softly gripping your breasts and smiling in delight with how you made them know how good they were making you feel, just like they said. You could feel Sunghoon's hand playing with the strings of your thong, snapping the elastic to your skin, making you grow desperate due to his little game.

"Fuck, just take it off," the exasperation was very noticeable by the tone you used, the sound of how SUnghoon spanked your ass resonated in unison with your gasp.

"Easy, baby." Jake guided you to sit on his lap on the edge of the bed, his erection trying to get out of his pants, but you were getting distracted by how Sunghoon kneeled in front of you. "Let me take your shoes off."

He took your heel boots easily and put them away; his hands caressed your legs from your ankles to your thighs, his lips leaving kisses in the process. You threw your head back to Jake's shoulders the moment his veiny hands grabbed once again your tits, his index and thumb playing with your nipples. All the sensations you were experiencing were embarrassingly noticeable on your underwear, sticking into your cunt.

Sunghoon���s hands slid higher up your thighs, not being able to see the mischievous glint in his eyes due to Jake abusing every spot on your neck. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you shiver. Sunghoon’s fingers hooked into the sides of your thong, pulling it down slowly, his eyes never leaving your entrance. The fabric slid down your legs, and he tossed it aside, his hands returning to your thighs to spread them gently.

He trailed kisses higher and higher, causing small shivers through your entire body, a reason why Jake's hands moved down your waist to hold you steady the moment you squirmed at the sensation of Sunghoon's tongue against your core; moans falling from your mouth when his fingers went deep in you, stretching you out.

"You're so responsive," Jake said, his left arm hugging your body as the other hand went again to one of your nipples to pinch it, trembling at the combination. "You will hold your orgasm; can you do that for us?"

“Y-yes, I can, just… don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” You could only nod since your voice caught in your throat as Sunghoon continued his work, alternating between slow, almost teasing strokes and firm fingering. "Sunghoon, let me."

You whined when Jake stood up and left you with your legs open; he lowered himself to the same level as your wet cunt and eagerly licked a long strip, collecting as much as he could of your arousal to make a stop on your clit. You laid down completely on the bed in a moaning mess, incoherent words coming from you that you couldn’t even understand when Sunghoon's tongue joined, fucking you as deep as he could. Both of your hands went to their heads to create a grip on their hairlocks; Jake hummed to your action, the vibration of it causing that familiar knot to almost snap.

“Please stop, please, please.” You were begging at this point; Sunghoon separated from you with his fingers inside you this time, curling them to touch that sweet spot that you sometimes couldn’t even reach yourself.

"You better give me a good reason," he said, nonstopping his movements and even making them faster. Your moans got higher as you tried to speak, looking for the perfect timing.

"I want to cum on your dicks." Your comment made both guys freeze for a moment, their eyes meeting over your trembling form. Jake let out a low chuckle, and his hand brushed your hair away from your face with his mouth and chin glistening from eating you out. “Please, daddies.”

You truly didn’t know what got into you; the word simply slipped out, tumbling from your lips before your brain could catch up. The room went silent, and a heavy tension hung in the air. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you froze, unsure whether to apologize or fake yourself passing out, but that last one would be too pathetic.

Jake’s hands guided you to sit down, and he walked straight to you. Your hair was formed into a messy ponytail by Jake. To make you look up, you gasped at the sweet feel of the slight pain that caused. “Be a good girl and help Daddy out, then.” Your hands travelled fast to his belt and boxers, hissing the moment he saw your doe eyes looking at his hooded ones with your hand wrapping his dick.

Sunghoon went to one of the drawers, and after some searching, he came to your spot and threw condoms and a half-empty lube.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jake." You hand-wrapped around his length, his head being thrown back when you put a certain amount of pressure. You looked back; Sunghoon was almost naked, his black boxers still on, not helping with hiding his erection. "Let me help you so you can join."

With your free hand, you grabbed the elastic and took them down with his help. Sunghoon's dick had slightly more girth than Jake's, but the same length. He stood up next to him, your free hand positioned on Sunghoon’s hip before you left a kitty lick on his tip, being rewarded by Sunghoon’s soft groan.

You started slow movements, your hands sliding up and down their lengths, enjoying the way their breaths hitched and their eyes showed you how much they liked it. Jake’s hips bucked slightly into your touch, making you lean forward to put your lips together around Jake’s tip, swirling your tongue and earning a sharp intake of breath. Sunghoon groaned softly, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” You heard Jake moan, so you went a little bit deeper, his hand not wasting time to put it behind your head, grabbing your hair in a messy ponytail to see how you fully took him. You took him deeper, his tip touching the back of your throat and making yourself gag around him, the vibrations causing his body to shake slightly and hold Sunghoon’s shoulder, who was also losing his mind. You were bobbing your head up and down, and the hand that was on Sunghoon’s length followed the slightly fast pace you were creating.

After a few more minutes of controlling his orgasm, you turned your attention to Sunghoon, taking him into your mouth as you continued to pump Jake. And just like Jake, his hand went directly to do the same messy ponytail.

“G-God, this feels… s-so good.” An idea popped out in your brain as you took him out of your mouth; hearing him whimpering was not something you expected, but it did make you even wetter for both of them. “P-Please, go deeper.”

You let him go out of your mouth as you spat on it for extra lubrication, “You mean like this?” You focused on breathing through your nose, relaxing your throat in the process as you took him deeper; Sunghoon’s hips bucked forward, hitting that little bell that actually made your eyes water.

“Fuck, y-yes, baby. Don’t stop, please.” Time passed, and you saw Sunghoon's polite facade turning off; the back of your head still got his hand behind it, with the difference that he was going deeply and roughly, trying to release himself. He was about to speak out when you once again took him out of your mouth but soon created a small choir of moans and groans when you made his and Jake’s dicks be placed right next to each other as you pathetically tried to suck on their tips, the corners of your mouths hurting.

You were going back and forth, hearing them praising you, only motivating you to suck them off even more; their moans grew louder, and that was your cue to stop. You looked up to meet their eyes. “Someone please sit on the bed.”

Sunghoon was faster as he sat on the bed, taking the condoms and lube to his side. You crawled right on top of him, his tip touching your wet entrance at the action. You initiated a kiss; he was tasting himself through that kiss, feeling that he liked it when his hand went to the back of your neck, tongues touching and creating even more wet sounds.

“Are you going to keep sucking me, baby?” Jake’s voice made its way into the room; you looked around and grabbed the lube in your hand. He was confused at first, but soon opened his eyes when he realized what you intended to do. “Holy fuck, you want to kill me.”

Jake gave a small peck on your lips before going behind you; his hands gripped your hips, making you position yourself on all fours; the coolness of the lube touched your anus. While Jake dedicated himself to spreading and combining the lube with your arousal, Sunghoon took your face to pamper kisses. This time, they were sweet enough to distract you, locking his eyes with yours.

"How can I make you relax better, princess?" you thought about it, smiling softly at him.

"How about a 69?" The moment his lips went to your cunt at first, you could tell how much of a munch guy he was, like it was a life-or-death mission to leave you empty. Sunghoon smiled, both of you getting comfortable at the position.

You got once again his pretty dick in front of you; the red color of the base was evident, the tip shining due to the precum that you wanted to lick. You felt his kisses once again in your inner thighs, his thick fingers pushing into the skin of your ass, spreading it apart for him and Jake.

"I'm going to finger you first. Can you relax for me, baby?" Jake's voice was deeper than before. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as Jake's voice resonated in your ears.

Sunghoon was utterly absorbed, his lips and tongue working on you like a starving man, his fingers gripping behind your thighs for a moment before going back to your ass, holding you steady as you took him in your mouth.

Jake’s fingers traced teasing circles, spreading the lube evenly while ensuring you adjusted to the sensation. You sat for a moment on Sunghoon's face, and Jake took that opportunity to lean in closer, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he murmured, "Let me know if it's too much, baby. We want you to be comfortable."

You went back to being on all fours, licking Sunghoon's tip again before going all in and sucking him off, his moans vibrating right on your cunt.

"I want you to breathe for me, baby." You did what he said, feeling his fingertip barely pressing against the tight ring of muscle, giving you time to adjust. "You're doing so well, such a good girl." His praise made you wetter, arousal that Sunghoon licked every time.

"F-fuck, princess. Please take me deeper." You heard Sunghoon's whiny voice, so pretty, and you took it as you could, gagging around him and gaining a small spank. "Shit, sorry."

"Please do it again, Hoon." You said it was embarrassing how much you liked it and how you didn’t even think of what you were about to say, like you did this whole night. Your mind was out of it in pleasure. His palm spanked the plush skin of your ass again, more arousal creating on your entrance.

Jake's hand tightened on your hips, his fingers moving in a slow but deep rhythm, coaxing your body to adjust to his touch. You moaned softly around Sunghoon's length, your focus split between Jake's patient teasing and Sunghoon's growing desperation.

Sunghoon let out a deep groan, his mouth taking deep breaths to rest for a moment. “You’re doing so well, princess. Look at you, so pretty with your mouth full of me.” His voice was strained, trembling with need as your tongue worked over him.

His words sent a shiver through you as Jake's fingers finally pushed deeper, carefully allowing you to adjust once again to the sensation. Your body tensed at first, but the combination of Sunghoon’s tongue on your clit and Jake’s soothing words eased you into the moment.

“Relax, baby,” Jake whispered, “You’re taking me so well. Just breathe.”

You moaned around Sunghoon, your body relaxing as you followed Jake’s guidance. Sunghoon’s hand tightened in your ass, his breaths coming faster as he tried to hold back. “F-fuck, Y/N, you’re going to make me lose it.”

Jake chuckled softly behind you, his tone filled with both amusement and desire. “Not yet, Hoon. Let’s make this last.”

Jake added a second finger, stretching you; his other hand trailed up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake and feeling how he pushed you down, making you gag around Sunghoon. Sunghoon’s hips bucked slightly against your lips, and you responded by hollowing your cheeks, taking him even deeper.

Jake's fingers began to thrust once he saw you moving your ass towards him, and Sunghoon went back to thrusting your entrance with his tongue. You had to stop sucking Sunghoon to let all the moans and gasps free.

"Fuck, d-daddies." You put your hands on Sunghoon's thighs for support, feeling your legs shaking. "You two are so good for me, shit!"

Jake's pace quickened to drive you to the edge, and Sunghoon was unwilling to let you catch your breath as he groaned against your core as his tongue thrust deeper, his lips teasing every sensitive spot.

“Look at you,” Jake murmured, his voice husky and low as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. “Such a needy little slut for us. Tell me how much you love it.”

“I—ah—I love it so much, Daddy.” You managed to gasp, your voice shaking with pleasure. “You’re both—fuck—so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled against you as he focused on pulling every last sound out of you. “You taste so good,” he said between licks, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t hold back. We want to hear from you, baby.”

Your body trembled, your knees threatening to give you out as the sensation was consuming you. Jake’s fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust, while Sunghoon’s fingers pounded in and suctioned on your clit. You cried out, your head falling back as your pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into Sunghoon’s thighs as your legs quivered.

Jake’s fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Sunghoon stopped his movements, mesmerized by how your pussy was clenching around nothing, eager to have someone inside you. Sunghoon separated you from his body; to sit properly with his back touching the bed headboard, he reached for a condom, ripping the packaging off and sliding the condom through his dick, twitching due to the sensitivity.

You crawled to him, lips kissing as you tasted yourself; your hand reached to his throat and applied pressure on it, an action that made him groan. You separate from him as you look at him.

“You also like that, huh?” Your teasing came flat as his hand went to your throat while his free one went directly to your pussy; you jumped as he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Don’t test me.” He lost his grip and kissed you back, no stopping his movements. You got on your knees on top of him when he stopped; he aligned himself in your entrance, and you slowly got lower, not holding the loud moan at feeling of finally being filled. In the meantime, Jake also put on a condom and went behind you, aligning himself as he also went inside you slowly; both of your holes were filled, and it was like all three were touching heaven in every way.

A few moments later, it was you who started to move as you could before they started thrusting into you; by their gasp of air and incoherent words that would leave from their throats, it was clear that they were enjoying it as much as you were as they moved in perfect unison, somehow synchronizing with the rhythm of your trembling form.

You were so wet that it was easy for both of them to go faster than before, touching spots that you never thought you had, their trust growing more confident, each one coaxing gasps and cries from your lips that only encouraged them further.

“Look at me, pretty,” Sunghoon's voice entered your ears, your blurry vision focusing on him as much as you could; his mullet was messy, swollen lips from the kissing and biting his lower lip, and eyes hooded from all the ecstasy he was feeling, “A pretty doll losing her mind for our cocks, right?”

“Y-yes! You fuck me so good.” you said, motivating the two of them as they went even faster, if that could be possible. “Daddy! I’m going to cum.”

Your walls unconsciously clenched around Sunghoon the moment Jake went deeper, stimulating even more the coil that they were creating. Sunghoon was now the first to stop; it took you back a little, but even more how he turned you around. You were now facing Jake’s fucked-out expression; Jake shared almost the same expression as Sunghoon, with the difference of his glossy eyes, the pleasure even being too much for him.

You felt how Sunghoon’s dick made its way to your wet ring muscle, occupying Jake’s spot. Jake could see how your eyes rolled and your mouth opened to let out the prettiest whines and moans, his mind already making scenarios of that same expression as he entered inside you.

He pumped his painfully hard dick before pushing himself inside you with ease; the double penetration was fast from the beginning. Your hands were extended behind you for support, and Sunghoon’s hands held you steady as Jake’s fast movements created friction for all of them; the bed was moving because of the mingling with the symphony of breathless moans and whispered praises.

“I—I need to cum! Please, daddies, let me cum.” You started to beg, an action that made Jake smile with cockiness.

“Let go, baby. You deserve it.” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, one of his hands going directly to your clit. “Let me help you.”

His fingers moved as fast on your bundle of nerves, and the coil inside you unraveled, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your cries filled the room, your squirt making a mess in all of you three.

“Let’s leave her empty, Jake.” And they sure did that until the last drop of squirt left your body, both of them guiding you through the overwhelming sensation. Sunghoon followed soon after, his lips on your hips tightening as he reached his peak, a deep groan escaping his lips. Jake was the last to fall, his head resting on the curve that connected your neck and shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

You felt even more empty when they let go of you, their condoms full of their semen as they threw them in the trash after they did a knot in them. The three of you collapsed onto the bed in a tangled heap, the aftermath of what happened leaving you breathless and content. You passed your hands to your face, knowing that your mascara definitely was ruined and you looked a mess.

Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as Jake’s fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, basking in the after in the quiet room.

“This is probably the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” Jake said, making you and Sunghoon laugh.

“Glad I could make that happen,” you said, taking your hand to his cheek and leaving a small peck on his lips.

“And this is our first time having sex with a fan, or having a threesome in general.” Sunghoon’s comment shocked you, feeling a surge of pride due to his comment. You smiled shyly.

“I’m also glad to be your two firsts on that.”

Jake chuckled, pulling you closer into the warmth of his chest. “Well, you’ve definitely set the bar pretty damn high. I don’t think anyone could top this.”

Sunghoon smirked, propping himself up on one elbow as his fingers traced absentminded circles along your arm. “We should’ve done this sooner. But…” He hesitated for a moment, exchanging a glance with Jake. “There’s one small thing we need to take care of.”

“Signing an NDA?” you said with a smile, resting importance on it. “I can give your manager my number so he can deliver the paper. Or do you do that online?”

Sunghoon laughed softly at your comment, shaking his head. “Not exactly the romantic pillow talk I had in mind, but yeah, we need you to sign an NDA. It’s not personal, just… well, you know how things can get.”

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “We trust you, but this is more for everyone’s peace of mind. You understand, right?”

“Of course,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “I get it completely. I’d probably do the same if I were in your position.” You reached over to the bedside table for your phone, all of your phones were there thanks to Sunghoon, who stood up and grab all of them three. “So, how does this work? Should I text my info to your manager?”

Sunghoon tilted his head, clearly impressed by your level-headed response. “We’ll handle it. Our team can send it to you digitally, or if you’re comfortable, we can go over it together before you leave.”

Jake gave a lopsided grin. “Thank you for taking it well. Most people would freak out or make it awkward.”

“I don’t plan on ruining the best night of my life by overthinking,” you said, smirking. “Plus, I kind of expected this. It’s not like I can go around bragging about having a threesome with my favorite artist.”

They both laughed, and the tension in the air eased. Sunghoon leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thanks for understanding. We’ll make it quick and painless.”

Jake grabbed his phone too, scrolling through it for a moment. “I’ll shoot a message to our manager and let him know. They’ll probably have it ready in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surreal nature of the situation. Here you were, tangled in the sheets with two idols, discussing legal documents. “This has to be the strangest post-sex conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Well, it’s a first for us too,” Sunghoon admitted, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I think it’s safe to say this was worth it.”

Jake nodded in agreement, setting his phone down as he pulled you both closer. “Definitely worth it. And who knows? Maybe we’ll need to renegotiate the terms if we ever want to do this again.”

─── DON'T MIND ME, I <3 ROCKSTARS! I really got into it, hope this is a good enough blog to come back to enhablr, sorry if it's too long, got carried away as you saw. any grammar mistakes will be solved later!

𓄴 𝐓aglist (mostly moots!): @hheeluv @awqken @taeghi @caratstick @021894s @hees-love @heechwe @yangkkomi @dollyyun @wwooyology @ja3yun @v1rtu4ld0ll @firstclassjaylee

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you were accommodated in such a shabby hotel, the last thing you needed was a power outage. and upon learning about one of your colleagues' fear of the dark, you can't bring yourself to not help him

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, spencer is afraid of the dark and the reader comforts him, they comfort each other tbh, elle&morgan my fav duo, glasses reid obvi.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.7k

𝐚/𝐧: these are my official apologies for all the recent stories 🫶🏼 i wanted it to be so much shorter but i just love writing conversations between characters so that's how it turned out. @mggslover i'm so sorry for not adding spencer falling off the bed but i didn't want to ruin that subtle ending :(( maybe next time

"Please, I’m begging you, I’m really begging you—begging in the name of a god I don’t even believe in. Tell me we’ve got the wrong address," Morgan said, squeezing his eyes shut the moment you all crossed the threshold of the motel where you'd been assigned to stay while working on the case in another state.

You noticed Elle’s expression falter as well. From the outside, the place hadn’t looked that bad. Well, perhaps it only seemed that way because the street it was on was so dark you couldn’t make out much of anything. Midnight must have been approaching; the first day of the investigation was officially over.

“We didn’t get it wrong,” Reid declared, stepping inside as the last of you, quickly scanning the interior. “I memorized it perfectly. Besides, there aren’t any other accommodations in the area, so this has to be it.”

“Do you remember that one case,” Elle started, “where the unsub killed women in hotel rooms and decorated the interiors with their intestines?”

You glanced at her, curious—or as curious as you could be under the circumstances. You’d only joined the team fairly recently; this was your third or fourth case at most, and none of them had been quite that… gruesome. Of course, you were well aware cases like that happened. It was only a matter of time before one came your way. Unfortunately.

“This motel totally looks like the kind of place where something like that happens on a daily basis,” Elle continued. “My advice? Don’t look under the beds tonight. Or in the closets, if there even are any.”

“I just hope there’s hot water,” Derek sighed, his voice carrying a tone of resignation. “We once ended up in a place that didn’t have any. I almost handed in my resignation.”

“You deal with gruesome murders every day, but no hot water is too much for you, Princess?” you raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye as you made your way toward the reception desk to pick up your room keys. The motel’s walls were yellow—not the cheerful sunflower or sunny kind of yellow, but more like dried-up cat pee yellow.

“He’s got a point, though,” Elle chimed in, taking the key from an elderly woman at the reception desk. “Think about it. You come back after a long, grueling day, from dawn to midnight, just like today. You’re exhausted, barely standing, and you can’t even take a hot shower.”

Morgan pointed at her and nodded in agreement. You shrugged.

“Cold isn’t that bad,” you muttered. Honestly, you hadn’t expected anything luxurious from the place you’d been sent to. It was just a few days, after all.

“Oh, are you one of those people practicing that millionaire morning routine?” Derek teased. “You know—waking up at three, cold shower, steak for breakfast, daily planning, self-help book…”

I just grew up poor, you thought to yourself, but aloud you only let out a short laugh.

“I’d kill to have time to read a book before work. Any book. Not to be yanked out of bed by Hotch at five, like today, and scrambling to get out the door.”

Elle and Morgan exchanged a very brief look, almost secretive. You narrowed your eyes, suspicion suddenly welling up inside you. Before you could ask about it, someone else spoke up.

“He called me at half past six,” Reid said, tilting his head in mild confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the others silencing him with a look.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you stopped in your tracks, demanding an explanation. “He called me half an hour earlier than the rest of you?”

“You live farther away.”

“We’re practically neighbors, Elle Greenaway.”

“I’m about to drop,” Derek suddenly interjected with theatrical exhaustion. A change of subject. A not-so-subtle change of subject. “If I don’t lie down soon, I’ll fall asleep standing up. See you all tomorrow, folks.”

“You’re absolutely right—sleep well.”

With that, he and Elle headed up the stairs to the third floor, where they’d been assigned rooms. You and, as it turned out, Reid were staying on the second floor.

You turned to him slowly, arms crossed over your chest.

You didn’t even need to say anything—your stern gaze alone made it clear you were waiting for an explanation. Reid looked like he was about to throw his hands up in a defensive gesture, clearly regretting that he’d brought up the topic at all.

“Okay,” he sighed nervously. “What I’m about to say is not meant to offend you in any way, not even the slightest…”

“Offend?” you repeated, furrowing your brow. “Jesus Christ, Reid, don’t look at me like that—I’m not about to punch you in the face…”

“It’s just…” he began, a little calmer now. “All of us, including Hotch, I assume, are aware of the fact that, occasionally—just sometimes—you have a slight tendency to…run a bit late to work.”

He looked at you, and a telling silence fell between you.

"Yesterday, you were fourteen and a half minutes late."

"Fifteen minutes doesn't count as being late. And have you heard of a grace period? It's allowed to arrive within that time frame, without any consequences."

"Fine. What about two days ago, twenty-one minutes and seventeen..."

"Metro malfunction. I had no control over that."

"And six days ago, on Tuesday? Twenty-four minutes and..."

"I don’t remember such a situation, because, Mr. Big Brain, not all of us have such a memory. But I assume there was a reason..."

"Alright, fine," Reid interrupted you calmly. "I’m not saying there wasn’t a reason. But still... it happens quite often, and that's a fact. So it’s no surprise that Hotch, when the situation especially calls for it, prefers to call you a little earlier than the rest. Just out of caution."

You sighed, no longer able to argue about it. Maybe he was right; you did sometimes lose track of time in the mornings or fail to wake up to the sound of your alarm, closing your eyes for an extra five minutes... which resulted in small delays. You had never been directly reprimanded for it, so you were unaware that it had become such a big issue. Slightly embarrassed, you pressed your lips together.

"As usual, I guess you're right. And by the way, I’m heading to my room. I had thirty minutes less sleep than all of you, I’m exhausted," you said in a lighter, joking tone. A brief smile crossed Reid’s face. "Good night, wise guy.”

"Good night. And don’t look under the bed."

"Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it!"

With those words, you both disappeared into rooms directly opposite each other. The sounds of doors closing synchronized. You started your usual evening routine, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room. It was really small, narrow, and rectangular. The walls had that same awful color, the light was too bright, causing a headache. So you decided to just turn on the night lamp on the shabby nightstand next to the single bed.

It turned out that the only bathroom was in the hallway. You almost cried; you didn't want to take all your things with you and then come back with them. You remembered that you'd taken a proper shower that morning, so maybe a repeat wasn’t absolutely necessary. You were too sleepy for it, so you just set the alarm for fifteen minutes earlier to do it in the morning. After changing into comfortable clothes, you immediately lay down on the bed. Following Elle’s advice, and then Reid’s too, you didn’t check what might be hiding under it.

You weren’t hiding it, you were a terrible sleeper. Falling asleep in new places usually wasn’t a problem for you, even if it was a place that looked like a dive where someone could stab you in your sleep. But that night, something was bothering you. After giving it some thought, you realized it was Reid’s words.

Of course, it wasn’t that you held it against him. He was just stating facts; he had no intention of offending you, as he assured. And you didn’t even feel offended. More like unpleasantly confronted with a certain fact. You had only been part of the BAU for a short time. Well, just a week ago Derek stopped calling you the new girl. Although on the outside, you came across as very confident, on the inside, you were preoccupied with the team’s opinion of you and what they might think about you. Mainly because they were all older and more experienced.

You were especially worried about the fact that your tardiness and chaos had drawn the boss’s attention. Being on good terms with your superior was incredibly important, in case something ever happened, in case you made a more serious mistake…those small things could influence how the rest of your career would unfold, and the decisions made about you.

But above all, you wanted everyone to like you. Simply like you. So you wouldn’t walk around every day with your heart in your throat, praying for the day to end, constantly overwhelmed by a sense of misfit and loneliness.

You turned to your side, not sure how long you had been lying there, thinking. Suddenly, you realized you had to pee.

With great reluctance and sleepiness, you reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on and go to the bathroom. However, when you tugged at the cord, it... didn’t turn on. The room remained shrouded in darkness. You tried once more, then blindly made your way to the light switch in the room. You pressed it, and nothing.

What was going on, a power outage?

You shook your head in confusion. Whatever was going on, it didn’t change the fact that you had to go to the bathroom. You remembered the flashlight in your jacket pocket, and in the darkness, it took you a while to find it. When you finally had it in your hand, you felt ready to complete the mission. To pee, that is.

The moment you stepped out into the hallway, a light source flared up right before your eyes. You let out a muffled exclamation, partly from surprise, partly from being almost blinded.

“Damn, sorry…” Reid hissed, equally confused, turning his flashlight downward, away from your face.

You rubbed your eyelids, turning off your flashlight. Two light sources were unnecessary.

“Is there no power for you too?” you asked.

Reid nodded. It was only then that you really looked at him—he was wearing very loose pajama pants and...

“Cute,” you clicked your tongue, pointing at his white sweater with a bear wearing glasses. He had them too, worn very low on his nose. He must have put them on absentmindedly, in the dark, right after getting out of bed.

“I got it from Penelope for my birthday,” he said in a tone as if he were giving a statement. His hand briefly touched the fabric, right at the center of the brown bear’s face. “It’s really comfortable and soft. Perfect for sleeping...Anyway, I was heading to the reception to find out what the issue is and whether anything can be done about it. You too?”

"No, I just really need to pee. Do you really want to go there at this hour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, outages happen, and they'll have to fix it, but it's the middle of the night. We don't really need the lights right now, and if you want to go to the bathroom, you have a flashlight, as I can see."

You kept your gaze on him, realizing that since he noticed the lack of light, he must have been either heading somewhere himself or keeping the light on. Or maybe he had been sleeping with the light on. He did seem a bit tense. One of his hands was still resting on the half-open door, nervously gripping it. The other was pressed tightly to his body, his chest rising in an odd rhythm. Not a quickened pace, like with a panic attack, but more unnatural, like he was trying to control it.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" the question slipped out of you directly. After a moment, you realized it might have been a little too blunt. You had asked it carelessly, suspecting there might be another reason behind his behavior. For some reason, fear of the dark didn’t seem to fit his rational character.

Reid quickly shook his head, firmly denying it.

"No. No, of course not. I was just... reading when the light went out."

Oh, you didn’t even need to be a profiler to see right away that he was lying. You crossed your arms, a little amused by how stubbornly he was denying it.

"You were reading? At this hour? When we’re back to the investigation first thing tomorrow morning?"

He shrugged, shaking his head again.

"I couldn’t sleep."

You sighed. In the end, neither his fear nor his shame were your concern, so you didn’t see the point in interrogating him any further. You signaled that you were dropping the subject, and some expression passed across his face. Gratitude. Gratitude for not pushing the issue or mocking him. You felt a bit offended that he had even thought you might do that.

“If you still plan on going to the reception, wait for me, I’ll go with you. I just need to quickly stop by the bathroom.”

Reid opened his mouth, clearly surprised by your suggestion.

“Well, what?” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t let something eat you on the way. A demonic hand emerging from the darkness…”

“Very funny,” he commented, rolling his eyes. However, the corner of his mouth twitched, and his breathing seemed calmer.

“���The ghost of Richard Ramirez haunting the walls of this hotel. Or some other bloodthirsty maniac.“

"Didn't you really have to pee badly?"

"The team wouldn’t recover from losing you, Reid!" You threw that line over your shoulder as you walked toward the bathroom.

Of course, there was no light there either, so you had to use your flashlight. He was waiting for you, and together, in silence, you headed down the stairs toward the reception. Given how small the motel was, it wasn’t open 24/7. You had to wait a while before someone came to assist you.

“That happens sometimes,” the employee shrugged. “We’re not sure where the problem is exactly, but someone’s supposed to come check it out tomorrow…”

“Can’t anything be done about it now?” Reid asked, a trace of frustration in his voice that he was trying to mask—especially when he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’s just a simple overload? Where are the fuse boxes…?”

“Reid,” you said gently, placing a hand on his elbow to draw his full attention. He turned his head toward you, surprised by the tone of your voice. You gave the employee a discreet signal that you didn’t have any further questions and he could leave.

“You’re not fixing the electricity in some rundown motel. That would just be… ridiculous.”

“I’m not talking about fixing it,” he clarified quickly, though it was clear he hadn’t let go of the idea. “But in most cases, it’s just a simple short circuit. I could just take a look—”

“—Or you could just sleep in my room.”

The words left your mouth, surprising not only him but also yourself. Yet, it wasn’t as though you regretted them or wanted to take back the offer. On the contrary, the moment you said it out loud, it felt even more fitting. When you were a little kid—like most children, probably—you’d also been afraid of the dark, and running to someone else’s room always helped. Curling up beside someone, just knowing someone was there, made all the difference.

You watched his reaction, the way he shook his head slightly from side to side, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all. Come on.” You grabbed him by the wrist—the hand not holding the flashlight—and pulled him along. He moved hesitantly, but he seemed too caught off guard to plant his feet and stay put.

He stopped only when you reached the door to your room, pulling his hand free from your grasp.

"How do you even imagine this working? There's... there's only one bed in there."

"If that bothers you, grab the mattress and some bedding from your room. You’ll hardly notice the difference—those beds are unbearably uncomfortable anyway."

He lowered the flashlight slightly, letting the surrounding darkness of the hallway creep over his face. It was barely visible now, but the hesitation etched on it was unmistakable. Standing across from him, you held his gaze without saying a word, silently reinforcing the fact that you weren’t joking.

The thought of him struggling to fall asleep for the rest of the night and then suffering through another day made you feel genuinely sorry for him. Besides, even though you hadn’t known each other long, you already considered him a sort of friend. If there was anything you could do to help, you wanted to do it.

"It's no big deal, Spencer," you reassured him one last time, hoping the words would finally sink in. "Really. And if you want... we don't ever have to talk about this again. Tomorrow, or ever."

His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath.

"Th-thank you," he said at last, cautiously, as though he'd packed so many thoughts into the single word that saying it out loud was an effort.

You smiled gently and understandingly. Before stepping into the room, you briefly placed a hand on his arm.

"Oh God, that sweater really is soft..."

He let out a short laugh, perhaps releasing a bit of the embarrassment he’d been holding back. You both disappeared into your respective rooms, and you lay down in bed, waiting for him to show up. Well, the moment dragged on a little too long.

You were almost certain he’d only agreed to your suggestion to get you off his back and had no intention of actually following through. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you debated whether to go to his room and drag him over or just let it go. They say you shouldn’t force help on others. Maybe there was some truth to that.

Shortly after that thought, your door creaked open slowly. You heard it but couldn’t see much—the room was too dark, and he wasn’t using his flashlight. Perhaps he assumed you were already asleep and didn’t want to risk waking you.

Either way, he moved around your bed to lay down a pillow and blanket on the floor, skipping the effort of hauling over an entire mattress. 

"Your back is going to hurt," you remarked softly, your voice adjusting to the rhythm of the night, blending with the surrounding darkness.

You lay on your side, facing the spot where he had set up his makeshift bed. All you could see was the outline of his figure, his hands clasped loosely over his stomach, head resting on the pillow. You even caught the slight shrug of his shoulders in response to your comment.

"Actually, sleeping on the floor can have health benefits. It helps maintain a neutral spine position," he replied.

“Seriously?” you scoffed. “Do you really have to come up with a counterargument for everything I say?”

“Such a curse of mine. If you don’t like it, well, you invited me here.”

“Annoying bastard. I guess it’s too late to kick you out?” you wondered aloud, of course, rhetorically. But you quickly added, worried that he might take it seriously, “Sleep well. You and your spine.”

An amused sigh escaped him.

 “You… and your spine too.”

Well, you guessed that's enough of the chit-chat. You felt a bit disappointed, but you had brought him here for a reason. To let him sleep, not to entertain you with conversation. To your surprise, you didn’t feel sleepy, even though you had struggled with it earlier. You had been thinking about... hard to even pinpoint what, there were a few things. The little worries typical of the night, suddenly growing to some huge proportions.

You were still lying in the same position, some time had passed. Your cheek was almost touching the edge of the bed, on the same side where Reid slept. Well, actually, he wasn’t sleeping. You could see a faint, barely noticeable gleam of his open eyes. They were cast downward, trying not to stare into the empty blackness above his head.

“Have you always been afraid of the dark?” you decided to ask, with no sarcasm.

“I’m not afraid,” he replied, though he could always pretend to be asleep. But the answer came out automatically.

“Alright, brave guy.” You didn’t even scoff, you just said it calmly and accepting. Maybe later he’ll tell you, when he stops being so embarrassed about it. “So, I guess you came here to get to know me better. And you know, I think you’ve got the chance. Could you... could you tell me something? Just honestly?”

"Me?" he asked, surprised, even sitting up slightly. "I mean... sure. But what?"

You suddenly sighed, regretting even bringing up the topic. God, that was so stupid...

"Just remember, honestly. Do you think the rest of the team likes me?"

Reid was silent, a strange feeling gathered in your stomach. Instead of answering negatively, he propped himself up on both elbows, and you saw a slight movement of his head. A nod.

"Are you asking this completely seriously?"

You shrugged, not sure if he noticed, so you confirmed out loud in a slightly hoarse voice. And then, to your absolute surprise, he just laughed.

"I don’t get it," he confessed after a short moment during which you stared in silence at his silhouette. "How... how could you think it could be any different? You’re always joking with Derek and Elle, and... we get along well too, I hope..."

"You’re right. But... but that’s not what I meant, I just... ugh, seriously, I can’t explain it. Fine, you know what, never mind."

You turned onto your back, as if that would completely sever the conversation. The one you’d stupidly started. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Another stupid thought, after all, he wasn’t like that.

Silence again, broken only by breaths. A new sound joined them, a slight rustle of the sheets. When Reid spoke again, his voice sounded somehow higher, and you were sure he was sitting on the floor as he said it.

"It might be a little surprising, but when I was a kid, I wasn't afraid of the dark," he began, completely changing the tone of his voice. He wasn't surprised like before; it was lower, gentler, despite the topic he was addressing. "I mean, I wasn't afraid of it more than any other kid my age. That... that serious fear, the real fear, started later. I don't want to say it was when I started working for the BAU because that wouldn't be entirely true. But it was around the time I started taking everything seriously. Seeing it with my own eyes, every day."

You didn't even realize when you had turned back onto your side, just to look at him, listening to his words.

"Do you have nightmares?" you asked.

"Sometimes. Actually..." he sighed, swallowing. "All of it, the fear and the nightmares, it's like they don't exist when I'm in a place I know. A place I trust. I can sleep just fine with the lights off in my apartment, the same in a jet. Everything starts in places like this. “

There was silence from your side, and you felt a bit… touched that he decided to tell you this. No beating around the bush, no lying, and, most importantly, no overwhelming embarrassment. It was a normal topic after all; everyone has their fears.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you have nightmares?"

In the first few days after starting the job, you did. Then they stopped. That’s just how things go, you suppose.

"Not anymore," you admitted, letting out a small laugh. "But that doesn’t mean I sleep well. Now I just worry at night."

"About whether the team likes you?"

"Okay, I know it sounds childish, but it’s really been bothering me lately. They might… they might seem to like me, but deep down, they might not think that highly of me. I… I'm new, not that experienced, I’m always late, and I don’t think I’m bringing anything new to the table..."

"Of course, you’re bringing something," he interrupted you. You hadn’t noticed when, but you were both sitting up now. Your voices weren’t sleepy whispers anymore, you were having a real conversation. "Each of us brings something different, something characteristic of ourselves. That's how it works in a team. That’s why you’re here. Without you… okay, you might not know this, but since you’ve been here, these last four cases have gone much more smoothly."

"Do you really think so?" 

"Well, you asked me to be honest. Completely honest."

You've always had a bit of imposter syndrome, doubting your abilities, and approaching others' positive comments about you or your achievements with skepticism. 

Something in the way he spoke, his quick words, his engagement in them... made you believe him, somehow.

"Reid," you began, surprised to find that there was less weight in your chest, in your body. "I know, I just know, that you'll refuse, but still, I'll ask. Do you want to lie down with me?"

You didn't even know what exactly prompted the question. Caring about your back, you could answer. But was that really all it was?

For a moment, he was silent, thinking you were joking, but when it dawned on him that you weren't, he scoffed.

"Well, you were right, I'll refuse..."

"Sorry, but I doubt you'll fall asleep any other way. I was watching you, as creepy as that sounds. You were lying there with your eyes open, you were scared."

"I'm an adult man who's afraid of the dark. That's pathetic on its own, without being tucked to sleep by a coworker."

"I never mentioned anything about tucking you in."

He hesitated, embarrassed. 

"You took the least important part of my statement..."

"I took what I wanted. The rest is nonsense. Your age doesn't determine what you can or can't be afraid of. I'm a grown woman, and I'm afraid my colleagues don't like me. Which sounds more pathetic, huh? Fear of the dark or that?"

“I think it’s a point we could argue about for hours.”

“Which we don’t have. It’s late, we should go to sleep. Quick question, are you lying down with me, or are you fooling yourself into thinking you’ll fall asleep without it?”

A heavy, resigned sigh escaped him. Without adding anything else to his words, you turned onto your side, your back to him. You heard the rustling of the sheets, and for a moment, you froze, surprised. But no, he hadn’t joined you. 

You weren’t sure how you felt. Disappointed seemed like too strong a word. It wasn’t as though he had refused some incredibly important request of yours. It was just… perhaps the best explanation would be that, once you had convinced him to sleep in the same room for the sake of helping him, you wanted him to take something comforting from that night. You wanted it to be one of those good nights, like the ones he had in his apartment or in the jet, the ones he had mentioned. Not one of the others, filled with fear.

But then, the mattress beside you dipped, as someone else settled onto it.

You turned to the other side, and suddenly your faces were right across from each other. Reid swallowed, almost nervously. He seemed to be adjusting to the situation, to the sudden closeness, the small space you shared. You propped your hand under your head, observing him discreetly. It hit you that he always had a bit of an issue with contact with others. A doubt crossed your mind: had you made him uncomfortable?

Minutes passed, though, and his body seemed to sink more comfortably into the bed. His arms were no longer stiff, his hands resting freely, no longer clasped tightly across his chest. You could also hear his breath, and the more peaceful it became, the calmer you felt too.

And even though no words seemed necessary anymore, he decided to speak once again.

"Thank you."

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella

[fastandcarlos]

Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max leaves you and your daughter to stream for the night, only one of you is happy to let max go and play for a while

Max’s eyes lit up as soon as he walked into your apartment, heavy footsteps thudding through. He dropped to his knees as your daughter ran through to meet him, leaping up straight into his arms. His grip was tight as her arms wrapped around his neck, kicking her legs excitably at the sight of her dad returning home. After a couple of moments you followed through, joining the duo as Max pressed a kiss against the top of your head. Max’s free arm wrapped around you, inviting you into their hug as the three of you walked back into the apartment, all entangled in with one another.  

“I can’t stay for long,” Max told you, placing your daughter back down. “Don’t forget I’ve got that charity stream tonight.” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” you smiled, heading back into the kitchen to carry on preparing dinner for the three of you. 

“Where are you going daddy?” Your daughter asked, her hand still resting on Max’s leg to make sure that he couldn’t run away from her. 

“I’ve just got a bit of work to do sweetheart,” he smiled, brushing his hand over the top of her head. “I promise that I won’t be too long.” 

“You’re stuck with mummy for a little while longer,” you joked, trying your best to keep her smiling. 

“I’d rather be stuck with mummy then do what I have to do tonight,” Max grinned, bending down and lifting your daughter up, a loud squeal escaping from her. 

“You can try and make me feel better, but I know she’s a daddy’s girl,” you assured Max, appreciating the efforts that he went to. He couldn’t help it, he felt guilty sometimes that your daughter clung to him more than you, but you didn’t mind, being a spectator of their relationship was pretty special too. 

“I’ll make sure that I’m done so I can come and say goodnight,” Max informed you both, placing your daughter down in one of the dining chairs just to the side of where you were. He walked around and grabbed himself a drink and a snack from the fridge before heading for the door. “If you need anything, you know where I am,” he smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your daughter’s head, moving around to kiss the side of yours too before leaving the two of you to it. 

A sigh came from Max as he closed the door behind himself, hearing the groans of your daughter cry out straight away. He felt helpless as you called out her name in the hope that she would stop complaining, but it wasn’t to be. Whilst George headed upstairs, you found a couple of her toys lying around the kitchen floor, picking them up and placing them in front of her, only for her to chuck them to one side. 

“I want to play with daddy,” she cried out, folding her arms in front of her chest, a habit of Max’s she’d definitely picked up. 

“I want to spend time with daddy too, but he’s busy,” you weakly smiled, picking the toys back up off the floor. 

“Why’s he busy?” 

“Because he’s working,” you explained, opening up the kitchen door again to place the toys back in their box. “Why don’t you go and watch the television sweetheart then mummy can get on with sorting dinner?” 

“Can I watch Bluey?” She excitedly asked, offering the first hint of a smile she’d shown since Max left the room. 

“You can watch whatever you want,” you replied, keen to keep that smile on her face for as long as you possibly could. “I’m sure once daddy is done with work he’d love to come and watch Bluey with you too.” 

“Daddy’s coming now?” She quizzed, not quite understanding what you meant. 

“Soon,” you spoke, only for her smile to fade again. You quickly turned the television on, hurrying to find any episode that you could to put on and distract your daughter. Once you had one, you left her to it, heading back into the kitchen so that you could finish preparing dinner for the three of you without any distractions around. 

Above where you were, Max was all set up with his headphones on, talking to some of his fellow drivers who were taking part in the charity stream. He was lost in his own little bubble until a stream of light came through the door leaving him unable to see what was happening on the screen, the light hitting the exact spot where his character was. 

His eyes glanced to the door to see what was going on, only for a little figure to peer around the door frame, a cheeky smile etched on her face. “Love, what are you doing?” Max chuckled as he met your daughter’s eyes. 

“I missed you,” she grinned, inviting herself into the room, her chaotic feet charging through the room to where he was. 

“I’ve only been gone ten minutes,” Max laughed, bending down to pick her up anyway, sitting her down in his lap. Her arms immediately went around his chest, sticking to him tightly just in case anyone tried to take her away. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to move as she wriggled around to make herself comfortable, her hair flicking in front of the screen over and over again. The boys were baffled on the end of the line as Max’s character was killed, he’d gone from top of the leaderboard to bottom of the pack in no time at all, all thanks to the troublemaker cuddled up to him. 

Usually Max hated coming last, especially when it came to impressing on stream, but for once Max could make an allowance. His weakness was absolutely your daughter, every single person that knew Max could tell you that too, which was why it didn’t take long for the other boys to figure out why Max had suddenly plummeted to the bottom of the rankings. 

“Have you got a little guest?” Charles laughed through his headset as Max’s character was shot again. 

“I might have a team mate,” Max sniggered in response, “not that she’s exactly doing a good job of helping me right now.” 

“Don’t use your child to cover the fact you’re rubbish at this game,” Lando teased, celebrating being the one to defeat Max. 

“I’m being honest,” Max chuckled, glancing down at your daughter again. “You just wait until you have kids one day, you won’t be able to get anything done anymore without a little figure following you around constantly.” 

“Why don’t you just tell her to go away?” Lando jokingly quizzed, hearing several groans from many of the drivers through his headphones. 

“Shut up Lando,” Max grinned, “do you hear how stupid you sound sometimes?” 

As the game restarted, Max tried his best to focus again without your daughter getting in the way. That was soon interrupted again though when you peered through the door, smiling softly when you saw your daughter cuddled up to Max, relieved to see that she was safe in the hold of her father. 

“She just couldn’t stay away,” Max laughed, knowing exactly what you were looking at. 

“I had no idea where she’d gone,” you grinned with a shake of your head. “One minute she was there, the next she was gone.” 

“I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone for long,” Max smiled, taking his headphones off for a moment. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her to go back downstairs again.” 

“It’s alright, she’s not getting in the way though, is she?” You asked him. 

“I’ve lost every round.” 

Oh,” you smirked, unable to hold back your laughter. “It’s for charity so I don’t think you’re allowed to get mad about that.” 

“I also don’t think I have the heart to get mad at this one either,” he chuckled, nodding down at your daughter. 

“No way, she’s a daddy’s girl after all.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[flwrkid14]

I need an AU where Danny and Tim accidentally become the most feared vigilante power couple in Gotham, and they don’t even realize it.

okay, listen—Tim is the master planner. He’s meticulous, always two steps ahead of the rogues, the League, even Batman. Then you’ve got Danny, who’s literally a half-ghost superhero with insane powers. And here’s the thing: they don’t mean to be terrifying. They’re just doing their thing, but together? Gotham villains are shaking.

Imagine Danny using his ghost powers to help Tim patrol. Tim’s grappling onto rooftops, doing his usual stealthy vigilante thing, and meanwhile, Danny’s just casually flying through walls and scaring the absolute crap out of criminals. They’re mid-heist, and suddenly, this glowing kid shows up, phasing through the vault door like it’s nothing. No one’s prepared for a ghost that can literally disappear and reappear wherever he wants, while Tim is in the shadows, taking them down one by one. It’s like horror movie levels of fear for Gotham’s rogues.

The rogues start trading horror stories about the ‘ghost that haunts Gotham’s streets.’ No one knows his name, but they’ve all seen him—pale, glowing, and grinning like he’s enjoying the chase a little too much. And right next to him? That’s Red Robin, cool as ever, silently calculating every move while his ghost partner freaks people out.

Even the Batfam starts to notice. At first, Bruce doesn’t think much of it. Tim’s been working with new people before. But when reports start coming in about how terrified the villains are—like, they’re surrendering before the fight even starts—Bruce is curious. Then he catches wind of the ghost rumors. Now that gets his attention.

Cue the Batfam having no idea what to do with this information. Dick thinks it’s hilarious—‘Timmy? Scary? No way.’ Jason’s a little jealous, not gonna lie—‘So you’re telling me Tim’s haunting the criminals of Gotham, and I’m not invited?’ And Damian? Damian respects it. Ghostly intimidation tactics are just practical in his eyes.

But Tim? Tim’s just trying to do his job. He doesn’t even realize they’ve become the city’s most terrifying duo. Meanwhile, Danny’s having the time of his life. Scaring bad guys? Sign him up. Especially when it makes Tim roll his eyes fondly every time Danny phases into a room with a smirk, all like, ‘What? It works, doesn’t it?’

And yeah, Danny absolutely does the ‘Boo!’ thing just to mess with people. Criminals are terrified, the Batfam is confused, and Tim is stuck between exasperation and amusement because of course his boyfriend is thriving on this ghostly reputation.

Give me a Tim and Danny who become an absolute nightmare to Gotham’s underworld. Give me a Tim who doesn’t realize he’s terrifying, and a Danny who knows it and leans in. Because Gotham deserves to be haunted by a ghost, and Danny’s just the guy for the job.

[rosierin]

scroll to read the off-season quartet series!

Four roommates. One apartment. Too many feelings.

The Off-Season Quartet is a series in which Atsumu, Osamu, Suna, and (y/n) grow up, mess up, love each other loudly (and badly), and turn a small apartment into a home.

tags;

— atsumu x (y/n) | suna x (y/n) | osamu & (y/n) | slice-of-life | college au | found family | roommates | coming of age | love triangle | domestic fluff | post-time skip | atsumu is down bad | suna is (y/n)'s childhood best friend | osamu acts like (y/n)'s big brother | attempt at humour | canon adjacent | late nights conversations | sometimes light angst | mutual pining | slow burn | unresolved sexual tension | suggestive/mature content | unrequited feelings | eventual heartbreak | hurt/comfort | tea is a love language | so is bickering | childhood friends | sibling rivalry

core dynamics;

— osamu & (y/n)

— atsumu x (y/n)

— suna x (y/n)

masterlist;

there’s no fixed timeline for this series—some fics take place during university, others post-grad when the boys have already gone pro. There is no particular order!! For more info on this, please check this post :)

blondes aren’t your type, huh?

⇨ osamu & suna tease atsumu about his blatant crush

midnight snack run

⇨ a late-night snack run turns into a light-hearted chat about their love lives

cuddles in the kitchen

⇨ (y/n) has been feeling off all day and her friends spend the evening trying to cheer her up

snuffed out

⇨ “more than just flirty banter” aka (y/n) and atsumu are drunk and almost breach the point of “just being friends”

detour to nowhere

⇨ a road trip, a wrong turn, and a secret lagoon

a hair toning intervention

⇨ osamu comes home with brown hair, atsumu feels personally attacked and immediately demands a hair transformation of his own

a place to fall apart

⇨ osamu gets his heart broken and (y/n) comforts him through the night

some things never change

⇨ atsumu decides to watch a horror movie. (y/n) is too scared to sleep and asks suna if she can sleep in his room

yer doin’ just fine

⇨ 2am chat with atsumu in the kitchen. (y/n) wonders if she’s chosen the right path in life, and atsumu shares some rare words of wisdom

smack me like you’d spike a volleyball

⇨ what the title says. (y/n) takes an expression a bit too literally and feels the need to test it out

sweet on you

⇨ atsumu steals (y/n)’s ice cream and she’s one taunt away from losing her mind

volleyball shenanigans

⇨ just a little chaotic volleyball sesh, featuring jealous atsumu and the evil duo (suna and (y/n))

all giggles & glitter

⇨ (y/n) gets back from a staff do involving cocktails and atsumu is tasked to put her to bed

maybe nothing, maybe something

⇨ the quartet cooks dinner like they always do. meanwhile suna sits with the noise, along with the quiet parts he doesn’t name

stem wars

⇨ osamu knows how to tie a cherry stem with his tongue so the others try to copy him

yer rubbin’ off on me

⇨ (y/n) accidentally copies the twins’ accent and they won’t shut up about it

ya wanna kiss me so bad

⇨ (y/n) and atsumu get into a fight and he tries to flirt his way out of it ‘cause he’s obnoxious like that

double trouble

⇨ the twins are doing some manual labour under the hot sun and (y/n) can’t help but catch a sneaky glance or two or three when they suddenly take off their shirts

power play

⇨ (y/n) could’ve sworn “power play” meant something else. (aka she misuses it in a sentence and accidentally exposes one of atsumu’s kinks)

he said what?

⇨ a compilation of atsumu’s dumb innuendos and (y/n)’s unexpected comeback

away with the faeries

⇨ atsumu catches (y/n) reading 'a court of mist and fury’ and accidentally sparks a debate about which court everyone would belong to

not so easy

⇨ atsumu didn’t mean to spiral. but jealousy hits different when the girl you’re kinda-maybe-sorta in love with starts laughing at someone else’s jokes. now the apartment’s tense, the silence is loud, and his pride is doing everything it can to keep him from saying what he actually means

the other twin

⇨ the miya twins fight. that’s nothing new. but this time, it’s different. the words hit deeper. the silence lasts longer. and when it all boils over, (y/n) is left standing in the middle of it, heart hurting for both of them. it’s messy. it’s loud. it ends with tea, a quiet couch, and something almost like healing

in your court

⇨ osamu, suna and (y/n) watch one of atsumu’s big games and (y/n) decides to congratulate him on his win… personally

uno, dos, kiss

⇨ they’re home alone, it’s raining, he’s bored, and somehow (y/n) is playing uno with a kiss on the line

and that's on period

⇨ (y/n) is on day two of her period. her morning starts with atsumu asking the dumbest questions known to man and ends with a nap on the couch

pinky promise

⇨ (y/n) and suna go for a late-night drive to escape the city and they both reminisce about the promise they made to each other when they were fourteen

it suits you

⇨ (y/n) pushes atsumu's hair back one day and says it suits him. he hasn't changed his hair since

domestic

⇨ (y/n) can't even fold the laundry without being harassed by a certain miya twin

when the world isn't kind (at least they are)

⇨ (y/n)'s day has been a string of minor disasters. lucky for her, she lives with three people who know just how to fix a bad day

heat of the moment (NSFW)

⇨ it started as a massage...

serving looks and trouble

⇨ (y/n) is at work and the twins decide to pay her a visit

tastes like sadness

⇨ (y/n) and suna have a chat about her complicated relationship with atsumu

she used to love me

⇨ suna talks about his feelings towards (y/n), from childhood to current day

i used to love him

⇨ (y/n) talks about her feelings towards suna, from childhood to current day

just a kiss (it wasn't) (NSFW)

⇨ (y/n) and suna share the story of their first and only kiss

[okay-j-hannah]

The Kickstart | Smosh 💛

Smosh : Multishot

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, Spencer pining, reader is struggling in LA, not a lot of money, multiple jobs, poor studio apartment, inconsiderate boyfriend, lots of musical theatre talk, reader insert but a few things are already decided (last name is Bennett, favorite drink is Diet Coke, love the colors blue and green, artist, theatre nerd, etc.)

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: I haven't written for Smosh in years... but the current cast and crew has me sucked back into the fandom. And I am sorely in need of more Spencer content 😭

I was initially inspired by this incredibly well done fic "Late Night" by @simpingsavant Please give it a read because it's a masterpiece.

Part 1: The Kickstart {You Are Here}

Part 2: Mama Bear

It was nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, you think with a smile. There was a light flickering near the fountain drinks. You lean against the checkout counter, thumbing through an aged script.

You memorize the cue lines that signal when quick changes are supposed to happen between scenes. The current musical you are working on is Hairspray.

Going through the script and your production notes really help pass the time.

The small rinky-dink gas station you manage is your reluctant home most nights. It wasn’t your favorite place, but it helped with the bills. Trying to make a living on production design for musicals isn’t the money maker you hoped it would be in LA.

You barely made anything doing hair and makeup for the community theatre. But it was something you loved.

And wouldn’t you rather be doing something you love than being miserable in a high paying corporate job?

Sure, you think.

It had been nearly eight months since you started working at this gas station. The owner was as rinky-dink as the store itself, speaking in short, to the point sentences and avoiding eye contact. There were only two gas pumps out front that rarely attracted customers.

The biggest commodity are the cheap drinks and snacks inside. Many stop by for something quick on their way to and from work.

Normally working the night shifts from 10pm to 6am, you are quick to notice any regulars. Not many people are awake at this time of night, let alone on their way to the gas station for a drink.

The bell sounds above the door as a familiar face enters. It was Glasses.

That’s what you called him after seeing him for the third time in a week, back when you first started working here.

He usually came in late like this, looking exhausted. He has curly dark hair, gold rimmed glasses, and some scruff. Today he’s dressed in jeans rolled up at the cuffs, brown boots, and a gray sweatshirt.

He gives you an awkward, close-lipped smile as he passes. You watch him go for the drink fridges. Energy drinks are his specialty, maybe the occasional coffee or breakfast sandwich. He always bought them two at a time, taking the slight discount for buying a duo instead of a single.

About every other week he’s there three to four of those days. You’ve always wondered why – especially when he always looked so tired when he came in.

But you’ve never had a conversation that’s lasted longer than the cordial exchanges.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hello,” he replies with his awkward smile.

You scan his drinks, Mountain Dew Kickstarts like always. “Find everything you need?”

“Yep.”

The computer beeps. “That’ll be $8.56.”

“All right.” He taps his card on the machine in front of him.

“Would you like your receipt?”

“No thanks.” He grabs his two cans.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

It had been like that for maybe six of those eight months. After that, your curiosity began to plague you. The next time he came in, you watch him browse for a Kickstart and a breakfast muffin.

Saying hello to him had felt routine. But it was clear that you both recognized each other. So you decide to say something a little more than usual.

“Getting breakfast a little early?” you joke in your quiet voice.

He smiles, pulling out his wallet. “I just haven’t eaten anything all night.”

“Sounds like a rough night. That’s $9.34.”

He scans his card. “It has been.”

With him looking down at the keypad, you take the time to look at the circles under his eyes. “You should try the croissant sandwiches. Much better than stale muffins.”

He nods his head, “Next time. Thanks.”

You watch him walk away, still at a loss as to why he’s always in there this late at night.

A couple days later he’s walking in and giving you a wave. You smile at him as he makes for the drinks again.

He’s dressed in those same jeans and combat boots. Now he wears a t-shirt with a denim jacket. If you had friends to talk to, you’d want to tell them how Glasses loves to wear the same jeans and jackets all the time.

He comes to the counter and clears his throat.

You scan his drinks and a breakfast sandwich. A croissant sandwich.

You chuckle, “You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says, tapping his card against his hand while he waits.

“Haven’t eaten anything all night again?”

He hums, shrugging his shoulders, “Felt peckish.”

“Do you want your receipt?”

“No, that’s fine. Have a good night.”

You throw the balled up receipt into the garbage bin beside you. “You too.”

You’d love to tell a friend that Glasses seems shy. He seems nice.

A few weeks later, you’re drawing sketches for costume designs. You were doing Shrek The Musical at the community theatre. Papers were full of drawings depicting a white rabbit, a wicked witch, a wolf in granny clothes, and fairies with colorful makeup.

You were humming one of the songs when Glasses came in with a yawn. His eyes search for you and he waves, “Good evening.”

“Good night,” you say sarcastically.

He grabs his drinks and comes to the counter with wandering eyes. You try to move your sketches and pencils out of the way.

“Sorry,” you say, “That’ll be $8.56.”

He scans his card, but keeps looking at your art. “You draw those?”

“Yeah,” you say, abashedly. “Little project.”

“They’re really good,” he pops open one of the drinks and takes a sip. “Are they just for fun, or…?”

You shyly pull out a drawing of a person in a dragon scale costume. “They’re for the musical I’m a part of. Down at the local theatre.”

“That’s cool,” his face lights up.

Something warm tickles your stomach. You were actually having a normal conversation with Glasses.

“Are you the costume designer?”

“Assistant,” you bow your head. “I’m head of hair and makeup.”

He nods, clearly interested. “Have you been a part of production teams much?”

“For years,” you smile, “I love theatre. I’ve done almost everything. Acting, costumes, set design, lighting – you name it.”

He pockets the other energy drink in his jacket pocket. “Sounds like fun. Have a nice rest of your night.”

“Thank you, you too.”

If you had friends, maybe you’d tell them that Glasses might become a friend. The only person you have to text is your new boyfriend Aaron. But he wasn’t a fan of nonsense texts – texts that were unnecessary.

A few weeks go by, now seven months into your job at the gas station. Glasses was still making his almost daily visits. You caught him standing outside the window for a minute before coming in.

You have confusion in your face, but a smile on your lips. “You okay there?”

He raises his eyebrows and talks as he walks to the fridges. “What do you mean?”

“Was there something on that window or were you just making sure you weren’t a vampire?” At his knitted brows, you continue, “You know… checking that you still had a reflection.”

Heat floods your face at the poor attempt at a joke, but Glasses laughs, nonetheless. “I might be nocturnal, but no, I’m not a vampire.”

You smile, admiring him walking towards you. His fluffy curls were sticking out from beneath a green hat. In white embroidery it says, Smosh.

“How were auditions?” he asks, getting his card ready.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Good. I think we’ll have a good cast.” Earlier that week he asked about the latest Hairspray script that was on your counter. “The quick changes will be fun.”

He clears his throat, having paid but still standing at the register.

“I’m sorry, did you want your receipt?” you ask suddenly. “Normally you don’t so I stopped asking.”

“No, no – sorry. I’ve been trying to find some clever segway to introduce myself. But we’ve been seeing each other for months and it feels strange to do it now.” He rubs his forehead, struggling to maintain eye contact with you while he talks. “I mean, it’s not like I have a nametag like you.”

You look down at your chest to see (Y/N) printed on the laminated tag. “That’s true.”

He takes a deep breath and extends his hand. “I’m Spencer.”

You take his hand. It was very warm. “(Y/N).”

He smiles, “Nice to officially meet you.”

Maybe you’ll tell Aaron that Glasses has a new name now. Spencer.

One night at two in the morning, you were asked to do inventory while another employee managed the registers. It was strange to have a coworker with you on night shifts, but when things need to be restocked, it took a team.

You use a box cutter to break through packages, pulling out chip bags and candies. You roll them out on a dolly. Plastic wrappers crinkling as you restock shelves, you don’t notice who Eric at the counter is talking to.

But then a pair of glasses peek around the corner. “Hey!”

You smile wide, “Spencer!”

He smiles back, “I was worried when I didn’t see you at the registers.”

“Yeah, they need two of us here when we do inventory,” you shake a bag of doritos before putting it on the shelf. “How was your day?”

He sighs, opening his drink, “Long. Shooting weeks always are.” He tells you about the online comedy group he’s a part of. It was called Smosh.

“Oh, you’ve worn some merch that has that logo on it,” you say, moving a box out of the way.

Spencer nods, “Gotta promote whenever we can.”

“How large is the group?”

“Well, it’s more of an entertainment company. We have a huge production team and a cast. We film content for four different channels.”

“That’s impressive.”

He suddenly dips down to help hand you boxes of candy. “I guess. I think most of LA are internet personalities in one way or another.”

“I’m not,” you say quietly. “It is impressive.”

You learn about his directorial position on one of the channels. Being a head producer, he has a lot of sway on that content. You commend him on the responsibility, and he seems pleased, if not a little embarrassed.

He excuses himself not long after that.

You head towards the registers to restock the candy on the counters. Eric is there giving you a telling smile.

“What are you looking at?” you ask.

The middle-aged man scoffs, “That guy came in with the biggest smile on his face, but then he realized I was the one standing at the counter and he looked so disappointed.”

“I’m sure he was just in need of an energy drink.”

Eric shakes his head, “It wasn’t me that he wanted to see.”

Now in the present, you stand at the counter while Spencer leans against the other side. You had just revealed the fact that you have a boyfriend.

“H-How long have you been together?” he asks with much more nervousness than before.

You scrunch your nose in thought, “About two months. It’s been great though. He gives me rides to work and everything.”

“You don’t have a car?” Spencer asks, paying for his snacks.

You throw the receipt away, “No. I was taking the bus before I met him.” Noticing the awkwardness enter Spencer’s face, you say, “Rough I know. But I manage.”

“It’s nice of him.”

“Yeah, especially because I don’t really make enough to get a car right now.”

“Isn’t that why you have this job on top of the musical theatre stuff?” he offers you a package of your favorite candy.

It makes you smile, “Sure. But rent isn’t helping with my savings. Living paycheck to paycheck.”

“Does Aaron drive you to theatre too?”

Your gaze falls from Spencer’s, eating a piece of candy to give you some time before answering. “No, he’s not a big fan of musicals.”

Spencer scrunches his brow. Unsure of what was stepping over the line with this new friend of his, he tiptoes. “He won’t drive you because he doesn’t like theatre?”

“It’s kind of inconvenient asking him to come get me late after rehearsals. I shouldn’t ask for so much, he’ll think I’m dating him just to have a cab driver.” You snicker at your joke, but Spencer doesn’t seem to think it’s very funny.

He drinks from his can when another customer enters the store. That always meant he would excuse himself so you could get back to your job.

You start to expect Spencer each week. You wait for when you know a filming week was at Smosh. During that time, Spencer would visit for his necessary caffeine. He always stops to talk to you for a few minutes before leaving.

You always feel bad since he normally came in exhausted from work. He denies himself sleep just to spend a few more minutes with you.

It takes a couple more weeks, but he starts to stay even when more customers come in. He just steps to the side and waits for you to ring the customer up.

Then he comes back to continue your conversation.

“So do you prefer acting or production?”

You share the snacks that he’s purchased. “Production, for sure. I kind of developed stage fright a couple years ago. But I do miss being on stage sometimes.”

He looks at you while you talk. He’s an active listener. He zeros in on your face while you speak, ensuring he doesn’t miss anything.

But when he speaks, he tends to look elsewhere. “Did something happen?”

You shrug, “I just get nervous being in the spotlight now. I don’t like the attention much.”

“I get that. I haven’t always loved being on camera. It’s taken finding the right company to do it.”

You nod, “That sounds nice. To be so comfortable in the workplace. And to have everyone there as friends.”

He agrees, “Though a lot of them like to crack jokes about not seeing each other outside of work.” He chuckles as he remembers something. “It’s great being a part of a company where the goal is comedy content. You get to have fun with your friends every day.”

“And you’ve been there for so long,” you say, “You’ve definitely earned your place.”

“Thank you,” he feels warm around the collar, “It’s been hard at times, but well worth it now.”

You suddenly feel a warmth in your cheeks. “You know, um… my show opens next week. If – If you’re interested in seeing it. I’ll be there every night.”

“Helping Edna quick change into her fancy 60s outfit,” he smiles kindly. His eyes are soft and considerate as he watches your nervous gesture. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

You brighten, “Great!”

A week later you’re in the wings of the stage, sweaty with the heat the spotlights generate. A headset adorns your head, microphone near your mouth. You’re readjusting a costume onto a rack from the last quick change.

The last number of the show was currently playing: You Can’t Stop the Beat. You whisper the lyrics and subtly follow along with the choreography.

It was safe to do so with the curtains hiding you from the audience.

You listen to the applause as the cast bows. You imagine them gesturing to the tech booth, acknowledging the production team behind the scenes. You give a little imaginary bow to the audience.

Waiting in the dressing rooms, you help organize the costumes and clean up the makeup counters. Cast members thank you for your help, carrying massive bouquets and presents from the crowd.

You compliment the flowers and give your praise to their performances. It’s forty minutes later, having put the makeup and hairspray away, preening the wigs, and spraying down the character shoes, that you find your purse and head towards the front doors.

Outside on the sidewalk you’re met with an unexpected surprise.

Spencer.

He stands under the white lights of the theatre logo. He adorns his usual rolled up jeans and band t-shirt, denim jacket over it. His curls look extra defined tonight and in his hand are three colorful carnation flowers.

“Spencer? What are you…? I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” You walk towards him and for the first time since meeting him – you hug him.

Arms around his shoulders, smelling his clean, fresh scent. He seems timid to hug you back.

“Well… I did say I would come see the show.”

You shake your head. “I would have come out sooner if I knew you’d be here. I’m so sorry to keep you so long.”

“It’s no problem,” he offers the flowers. “Worth the wait.”

You give a smile, but your face is still regretful, “You shouldn’t have. I wasn’t even on stage.”

“Of course you were,” he says, “Your costumes and wigs and makeup were there.”

You hold the few flowers, completely endeared by him. “Thank you. This is really kind of you. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, shoving his empty hands into his pockets. “It’s kind of weird seeing you out of uniform. I’ve never seen you out of that polo and black pants.”

“Well, stage crew attire isn’t much different,” you laugh, gesturing to the long sleeve black shirt and leggings. “What did you think of the show?”

“It was excellent,” he says, “It’s such a fun show. I bet you loved teasing those wigs and picking out costumes with those crazy patterns.”

“And the quick changes?”

“I counted like 38 seconds,” he laughs, “That’s super impressive.”

You smile warmly, though the night air had a chill to it. “Thank you for coming, Spencer. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” he steps away, “I’ll see you later.”

You start to walk down the sidewalk, opposite the parking lot. Spencer suddenly has a thought. He runs up to you.

“Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I walk to the bus stop and take that.”

He looks down at your crossed arms trying to keep you warm. “Aaron really won’t come get you?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience him.” You wave away the look of worry in his face. “I do this every night, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Yeah, but… you shouldn’t have to.”

“Have a good night, Spence.”

You’ve never used a nickname with him before. He huffs a little before following your retreating figure, “Then let me give you a ride.”

You keep walking, “Really, Spence – I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he says, “But let me help. I want to give you a ride. It’s cold.”

Your fingers feel like ice against your arms. You look in the direction of the bus stop before looking at the pleading in Spencer’s face.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Relief floods his expression, “Great, this way.”

He guides you to his car and even opens the passenger door for you. It’s a kind gesture that you aren’t used to. He turns on the heater and your seat warmer before exiting the parking lot.

You direct him to your poor excuse of a studio apartment. The pair of you speak pleasantries the entire way. The lighting design of the musical, the strategic sets that move quickly, the realistic prop hairspray, and things like that.

He didn’t notice how you cower in the seat. He thinks it’s just because you’re still cold.

“Is the gas station good about changing your schedule so you can be there on show nights?”

“Yes, they’re so kind about it,” you say, playing with your fingers. It was a nervous habit of yours – pinching, rubbing, and picking at them. “I switch with a usual day shifter.”

Spencer nods, “I – I’ve missed seeing you at our usual time.”

“Our usual time?” you laugh, like your gas station hangouts were scheduled playdates.

He smiles, embarrassed, “Yeah, I mean… your customer service is so excellent. How am I supposed to get a Kickstart when you’re not there?”

“You know there are dozens of other gas stations and convenience stores around here.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have you.”

Something beats loudly in your chest. It sends a waterfall of warm, fizzing fireworks into your stomach.

Your apartment building is in a scary part of LA – but it’s what you can afford. Aaron was hinting at moving in together just for the ease of splitting the rent. It did sound appealing when you could actually save a little for a car.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He looks nervous again, “Anytime. And… maybe we could exchange numbers – in case you need another ride from the theatre?”

You look at him warmly, “I’m not going to ask you to come grab me when you could be in a filming week.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I would still come.”

With a small smile, you take out your phone and open a new contact. In the name slot you put ‘Glasses.’ Spencer switches your phones and puts his number in.

You smile wider as you put your name in the contact and put a little theatre emoji after it.

“Glasses?” he asks, handing you back your phone.

“Yeah, that’s…” you brush warm fingers with him as you accept your phone. “That’s what I called you when I noticed you as a regular at the gas station. I didn’t know your name, so I gave you one in my head.”

He seems overly please about that. He has to look away from you and smile. “That’s funny, I like it. What would you do if you saw me without glasses? It would be a whole new identify to you.”

“Very Clark Kent of you,” you laugh.

He suddenly removes his gold rimmed glasses and looks at you all serious. “You’re right, during the day I’m fighting crime with the Justice League and at night I refuel at the gas station.”

“Superman refuels with energy drinks?” you laugh, causally reaching over to snatch his glasses. “I don’t know if Krypton would approve.”

“No, no – Kryptonians thrive off extra energy. Sun energy and now caffeine energy.”

His eyes are a dark green-gray color. Maybe that’s just because it’s dark outside. But you can’t decide what color they actually are. They’re definitely not brown.

You raise the glasses to your eyes and look at him. “I didn’t realize Superman was so blind.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spencer laughs, looking at you fondly.

You return the glasses, “Drive safe. Thanks again for the ride. Text me when you get home safely.”

He waves you off, waiting until you’re able to unlock your door before driving away.

Inside your apartment, you look at the chipped walls and cracked ceiling. The musty, uncomfortable couch in front of the small tv atop a table you got free off a lawn. To the right is the tiny kitchen with only one counter and no dining table.

Rummaging through a cabinet, you find a tall plastic cup to put your carnation flowers into.

The bathroom is straight ahead, where you go into to get ready for bed.

The porcelain of the tub and sink have rust stains around the handles. The tile of the floor is broken in places and the dim light above is giving off an ugly yellow glow.

You open the mirror cabinet to grab what you need to brush your teeth. Brand names are all obscure as you did get the supplies from a dollar store down the street.

If you had a little more money, you would buy a face wash and face towels. But the essentials were good enough.

You cross the hall to get to your bed. Being a studio apartment, there isn’t a separate room for your bed. It lies on the floor behind the tv stand and in front of the only window in the whole place.

The queen mattress was the one thing you spent a little more money on. It doesn’t have a headboard or support to keep it off the ground, but it was comfortable and had nice periwinkle blue sheets.

You change into sage green pajamas with little daisies on them, climbing into your bed and fumbling for the phone charger next to the mattress.

As you plug your phone in, a text message comes in from Glasses.

“Just got home. You did amazing tonight! See you later this week.”

You heart his message and give him a thank you in reply.

~~~

The end of the week is approaching and you’re at the theatre again. Headset on, you hang in the tech booth, grabbing a few more safety pins, mic tape, and alcohol wipes.

The oversized fanny pack you love to wear across your chest is open and full of supplies. You stuff the microphone items inside, watching the stage from the view of the booth.

Tracy was beginning the song Welcome to the 60s. You turn on the microphone by your mouth.

“Head to the wings for quick change pretty please.”

A muffled reply comes through the headset, “On the way, (Y/N).”

You leave the tech booth and walk out of the audience room to the side entrance of the wings. Waiting on stage right, you hold Edna’s new dress for the song. Two stage crew members help by holding accessories and waiting to take off Edna’s current costume.

“Go mama, go, go go!”

Edna comes running off to stage right, tossing their purse to the stage crew member. They wiggle out of their simple purple plaid dress and step right into the sparkly pink dress you have waiting open on the floor.

You pull up the fabric as you hear the lyrics continue on stage.

“Don’t let nobody try to steal your fun, ‘cause a little touch of lipstick never hurt no one.

The future’s got a million roads for you to choose, but you’ll walk a little taller in some high-heeled shoes.”

You zip up the dress and readjust the mic pack on the suit strap beneath. Stage crew throws a new necklace on and a sparkle to the lip makeup. The other stage crew snugs a fuller wig onto the actor, starting to pin it down onto the wig cap. You hand a feather boa to the actor and help pin the new wig in.

“Come on out, hear us shout. Mama, that’s your cue!”

Just in time, you think, sending the actor back onto stage. It always felt like a close call, but the audience shouting their surprise and praise always felt like a reward.

You smile at the stage crew members and wave them off to help with set pieces. You then take the old purple plaid costume to the rack to keep it from wrinkling on the floor.

While in the dressing rooms you meet the actress playing Penny Pingleton, “Hey, sis – I noticed your mic tape not sitting so good on your cheek.”

She smiles worriedly, the action making the mic tape unstick from her face and the microphone dangle from her ear. “Just a little.”

You pull out an alcohol wipe and roll of tape from your pack. “There might just be too much makeup in the way.” You wipe the spot where the microphone sits on her cheek, fanning your hand to make the alcohol dry.

Cutting two pieces of tape, you line the microphone and stick it in place. The actress keeps her face straight, letting it adhere.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

“Anytime.” You leave the dressing room to find the man playing Seaweed. His mic belt kept twisting beneath his costume.

You track him down and use safety pins to secure the mic belt to his undershirt. Now as he dances and changes, the mic pack will stay in place. He shares his gratitude and runs off to the next scene.

The rest of the show goes without a hitch. The audience claps during the bows, and you give your imaginary bow to the curtains.

You begin to clean the dressing rooms when you get a text. From Glasses.

“Hey, I’m at the entrance by the concessions when you’re done in the back.”

A smile creeps onto your face. He saw the show a second time? You text back, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You’re quick to clean up and organize the costumes before heading out. The front was still packed with audience members trying to talk and take pictures with the cast members. You push your way towards the concessions table to see Spencer there.

He was wearing a black Creed t-shirt, arms full of silly tattoos on total display. Instead of holding flowers, he’s holding a Diet Coke from the concessions. You grin, falling out of the crowd and into him for a hug.

He catches you and hugs you back. You feel the cold soda against your shirt.

“I can’t believe you came again!” You pull away, eyes shining. You’ve never had someone to meet outside the theatre after a show before.

He extends the drink he got for you. “I told you it was an excellent show. And I wanted to bring a friend to see it too.”

A woman stands beside him, “And he misses seeing you at the gas station every day.”

You miss how Spencer nudges the woman with his elbow. You were too busy recognizing her face.

“Oh my god – oh my fucking god,” you accidentally shake the soda as you wave your hands. “You’re Angela Giarratana!”

Her brown eyes widen ridiculously, “Um… yeah, I am.”

“You were on Nerdy Prudes Must Die!”

A smile replaces the surprise on her face, “Oh, yes! I was in that show last year. You really scared me there for a second.”

Spencer licks his lips, watching the excitement on your face. “I wondered if you’d seen anything from StarKid.”

“Well, I’m a theatre kid, aren’t I?” you say, “I literally have a Hatchetfield Nighthawks letterman jacket. It’s so nice to meet you, Angela. I’m (Y/N).” You lean into a hug and Angela returns it kindly.

“I know, Spencer’s talked about you.” She steps away and compliments the show, “You did a great job with the costume design. Spencer and I were timing the quick changes.”

“I am very proud of those,” you say excitedly. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop smiling. Thank you for coming to our show. How do you know Spencer?”

Angela smacks Spencer’s arm, “We work together. He’s more behind the scenes and I’m more on camera.”

“At Smosh? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s all right,” she says, looking to Spencer and then laughing. “I gotta be careful or Spencer won’t put me in any of the videos on Games.”

You open your soda, drinking it like you were parched all night. “Are you working on any more theatre projects?”

“Eh, not at the moment,” Angela says, folding her arms. “I’m spending most of my time on Smosh sets.” She eyes you for a second before saying, “Do you have a portfolio by chance?”

“A portfolio?” you ask, wiping your lip of soda. “Of what?”

Angela rubs at her chin, “Sketches of your costume designs or makeup aesthetics. Maybe a performing arts resume. Pictures of your work on stage.”

“Um…” you pull awkwardly on the edge of your shirt. “No, not formally. But I could pull something together.”

“That’d be great. I’d love to see more of your work.”

Spencer looks incredibly pleased with himself, biting on his lips. “Would you let me give you a ride home?”

Your eyes are still shining, flitting your gaze between the two friends. “Um… yeah – that’d be great.”

All of you walk outside the theatre and towards the parking lot. Spencer is quick to open the passenger door for you and you give an awkward thank you.

Angela rolls her eyes and climbs into the back. “He’s such a doofus.” You watch Spencer walk around the hood of the car to get into the drivers side.

“A what?” you laugh.

“Just watch him – you’ll notice sooner or later.”

He climbs in and uses the seatbelt, “Watch who?”

You clear your throat, “Joey Richter. He’s another actor on StarKid Productions. He’s super talented.”

Angela snickers in the back. “What was the first thing you watched on StarKid?”

“A Very Potter Musical,” you laugh, “Way back in the day.”

“Classic,” Angela says, folding her arms and slumping into the seat. “What brought you to LA?”

You play with your fingers. “I wanted to move out of my home state. And I wanted to get more into the arts. But it’s been hard to find stable work.”

“You’re telling me. That’s the life of an actor – just jumping from one gig to another.”

“It would be the dream,” you sigh, “To do this full time. I just wish I had a little more security with it. A stable income. Not to be afraid with how I’ll afford food every month.” You awkwardly laugh as you realize you might’ve said too much. “But I’m doing all right.”

Angela agrees, “It’s hard to do well in the arts.”

“Hard to be recognized,” Spencer says. “(Y/N) already does well in the arts.”

You smile, your cheeks warm. “When is your next filming week?”

“Next week,” Angela sighs, yawning big. “Which reminds me – I gotta pick up that new pair of glasses for the office.”

“Angela is super blind and never wears her glasses during shoots,” Spencer explains. “Especially on the games channel. She’s always squinting super bad at the tv whenever we’re playing a game.”

“And I’ve been doing just fine!” Angela says loudly, “I’ve been training my eyes to see that far.”

Spencer scoffs, “Yeah, and the compilations of you squinting are growing at an exponential rate because of it.”

“Shut up!” Angela yells.

You laugh at their antics. “Are you allowed to yell at your boss like that?”

Spencer looks in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, Angela. As your superior you need to treat me with a high level of respect. I expect a full written apology and a certain amount of groveling before you’re allowed back on the Games set.” His tone was serious, but by the wide comical look in his eye, you know he’s using hyperbole as a joke.

“The heads of Smosh are actually Ian and Anthony, so don’t you even pull that superiority card!”

You keep giggling at this funnier, more outspoken Spencer. Proof that he was very comfortable with this coworker and their workplace.

It sounds nice.

~~~

Angela sits in the passenger seat now, slumped into the door and leaning her forehead against the window.

“She’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says quietly, thoughts still lingering on you.

Angela looks over at him and smirks. “You like her so fucking much. I knew you did when you wouldn’t shut up about her at the office, but damn – seeing you with her was nearly painful.”

“What are you talking about? I’m so subtle about it.”

“So you don’t deny it!” she sits up stick straight, so fast that the seatbelt locks into place and stops her from moving anymore.

Spencer flounders, “I – what – no, that’s not what I said!”

“You totally did you little fucker! You like her so much it hurts. You like her so much your cheeks are going to burst into flames. You like her so much you can’t get a full sentence out.”

“Angela, shut the fuck up – you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

She bounces in her seat, “I’m so subtle about it. I can’t believe you. You’ve been talking about this girl for almost a year. Of course you have a crush on her!”

“Angela, I swear to god, don’t ruin this for me.”

“How would I ruin this? I want my little Spencey to have true love. You have to ask her out.”

“Yeah, genius – you’re forgetting about a teensy little detail. She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Angela freezes, sitting back. “Right.” She bites her lip, “Should have made your shot earlier.”

“And risk looking like a creep asking a girl out at a gas station? No thank you.”

“Is you considering her for the production team on Smosh an elaborate way to play the long game with her?”

“No!” Spencer grips the steering wheel, sounding like a bickering sibling. “She has real talent, and I think she deserves the position.”

Angela holds up her hands, “All right, okay.” She side eyes him with raised brows, “… but you wouldn’t be upset if she suddenly became available and you could ask her out?”

He refuses to meet Angela’s eyes. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction by answering that question.”

“You basically just answered it,” she folds her arms, “You know… I can’t promise I can keep this from Amanda. Or Shayne.”

Spencer puts his elbow against the window and holds his temple.

“Or Chanse.”

“I figured.”

Angela gave him a sympathetic smile. “For what it’s worth – I think she has a real shot. We should get her portfolio to Ian and Anthony asap.”

~~~

You’re cleaning the counters at the gas station. It’s nearing the end of your shift, almost 6am. And Spencer hadn’t visited you like he usually did. It was actually making you worried.

You had spent the last few days collecting every piece of art and experience you had to compile a portfolio. It didn’t feel like a very thick folder, but it had every ounce of hard work from the last few years.

It sits within a blue cover under the registers, waiting for Spencer to come.

“Hey!” there he comes through the door. “I’m so sorry, we had an overnight shoot, and I forgot to tell you.”

You look confused, “Spence, you didn’t have any obligation to be here. We didn’t make any plans.”

“I know, but I usually…” he looks flustered and upset. “You know, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

You smile kindly, “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

He runs a hand through his curly hair, his eyes considering you as you clean. “This early in the morning, we both look exhausted now.”

“Aw, we have matching dark circles under our eyes!” You go under the counter to grab the blue folder. “Here’s that portfolio Angela was asking about. I wasn’t sure how to get it to her, so maybe you could take it to work?”

“Um… yeah, for sure. Thanks.”

The bell above the door rings, signaling the appearance of a new customer. Usually at this point in the mornings, customers would come in for their sustenance before work. You’re focused on Spencer, unaware of the person walking towards you.

“(Y/N), let’s go.”

You turn your eyes around and see Aaron beelining for your counter.

“Oh, hey,” you say quietly, “You’re twenty minutes early.”

“And?”

This man was over six foot, broad shouldered, and unkempt. His eyes are lazy and hard pressed, his jaw tense as you contradict him.

You wring your hands, “I’m not allowed to leave until six.”

“Well, I’m here now. Let’s go.”

“That’s…” you suck in a breath. He smells like stale beer. “Let me clock out and tell my boss.” You round the counter and are quick to enter the back rooms.

Spencer stays where he is, holding the blue portfolio, and looking at Aaron with an air of disdain. It was not the first impression he was expecting when picturing your boyfriend.

“You waiting to buy something?” Aaron asks, frowning at the way Spencer’s looking at him.

“No, I was just…” he swallows. “I was just talking with (Y/N).”

Aaron squints his eyes, hands moving to his hips. “And you know her because?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“(Y/N) doesn’t have any friends.”

“Untrue, because I’m standing right here.”

Aaron flexes his jaw, “She hasn’t mentioned you before.”

“Yes, I have,” you reappear without your nametag and your purse now around your shoulder. “I’ve talked about him a couple times.” You stand beside Spencer and instantly feel the tension.

Aaron extends his hand like he wants to take yours. “If you did talk about him, I would have remembered. We’re leaving.”

You go to hold his hand, but he moves his to grab your arm, pulling you towards the door. You turn your head to mouth, “Sorry,” towards Spencer.

Spencer waves at you, his face placid and upset. He watches out the windows to see Aaron let you go on the sidewalk to get into the car yourself. He slams the car shut, neglecting his seatbelt, and squealing out of the parking lot.

Still upset, Spencer gets into his car and contemplates his next move. His instincts told him that you weren’t completely safe. He wonders if you and Aaron have moved in together yet – he was trying to pull the ‘cheaper rent’ card on that account.

It was blatantly clear that Aaron was gaslighting you. Within three minutes, he was pegged as an asshole.

Spencer pulls out his phone and sends you a text. “Nice seeing you today, hope you get some good sleep.”

He rubs hard at his face before driving off. He plans to show your portfolio to Ian and Anthony tomorrow.

~~~

You’re sitting on the couch, playing on your PlayStation, when someone knocks on the door. Enjoying the day off, you wonder what door-to-door salesman is at your house.

You open the door and a giant smile envelopes your face, “Spencer! You didn’t tell me you were going to visit.”

He take a breath, “Um… yeah, I wanted to ask you something and I couldn’t wait until you were on shift.”

You lean against the doorframe, biting your lip. “Well, I would invite you inside, but I have to warn you… it’s not very nice.”

“I don’t care,” he says matter-of-factly. “I just want to talk.”

“All right,” you say shyly, opening the door wide. You watch his reaction, already feeling embarrassment brewing in your stomach.

Spencer looks around for a second, taking in the minimal furniture and all around lackluster state of the structure. He zeros in on the old tv displaying your video game.

“Are you playing Red Dead Redemption 2?”

“Uh… yeah,” you say quietly, holding yourself and you walk into the living room. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Spencer smiles, finding it amazing to learn something new about you that he loves. “Nice horse.”

You laugh, sitting on the couch and grabbing your controller. Your cowboy character was riding a white horse in the middle of a river. “It’s the White Arabian you have to tame by Lake Isabella.”

“Is that… like the best horse or something?” Spencer comes to sit beside you, sinking into the musty couch.

“It’s the only elite Arabian horse that you can find in the wild.”

Spencer leans against the couch arm, resting his face in one hand. “I didn’t realize you were a gamer.”

“The more you know me, the more of a nerd I become.”

“Nothing wrong with that, you big nerd.”

You giggle, “What did you want to talk about?’

Spencer clears his throat. “I uh… I took your portfolio to work.”

“What did Angela think?”

“She thought it was all great. But um… a few others got a look at it too.” He shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “There’s this job opening on the production team, specifically on the Smosh main channel. But they would help with all the channels.”

You pause the game again and really look at him. “What is the position?”

“An assistant art coordinator. They help the art directors with creating sets, costumes, and character looks.”

“And what are the responsibilities?”

“They’re looking for someone to manage hair and makeup for Smosh skits and any character work on other channels. Most of the cast do it themselves, but we do need someone who specializes in prosthetics makeup. And you seem to have done that a lot in theatre. We also need someone to manage costume work – the upkeep of them.”

You swallow hard, arms slowly moving to hold yourself. “Do you know what the salary is?”

“I think it’s around 50k-60k. You’ll make between $24 - $28 an hour.”

You bite your cheek. “That’s great.” You look at your surroundings. This new job would be paying you over $10 more than you’re getting now. “Are you saying Smosh is interested in interviewing me for assistant art coordinator?”

Spencer nods his head. “That is basically what I’m saying.”

“Did you show your bosses my portfolio on purpose?” You lower your eyes but look at him through your lashes.

He takes a deep breath, stretching out on the couch. “Maybe. Maybe I thought you deserved a chance.” He looks at you seriously, “I think you’ve got some real talent, (Y/N). You should go for an interview.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it.”

You look at him, “I’m suddenly super nervous.” A laugh escapes you, “I… I have to talk to Aaron about it.”

“Okay,” Spencer says with an edge. He tries to be respectful. “Have you two…”

“We’ve moved in together,” you say softly. “To make bills a little easier. And… and as a trial run, I guess. I’ll be able to save up for a car now.”

Spencer has a finger on the corner of his mouth. “Do you think you could make an interview this Thursday?”

You think for a second, “I’m sure Aaron would be okay with that. I’ll just talk to him about it tonight.”

He doesn’t seem happy about that statement. But instead of saying something he might regret, he points to the PlayStation. “Have you completed this game before?”

“Oh, yeah – maybe three times,” you pick up the controller again. “This time I’m trying to complete all of the side quests before finishing the main story.”

“You should be wearing a cowboy hat while playing.”

“That would be awesome,” you laugh. You look at him with sincerity, “Thank you for looking out for me, Spence. I appreciate the chance.”

He gives a close-lipped smile. “Always.”

~~~

You step off the bus and begin to walk down the street. Using your phone, you follow the directions that Spencer gave you.

The Smosh office was right around the corner.

You enter the building, pulling on the only pair of dress pants you own. You readjust the simple blouse to show off the single diamond necklace you wear around your neck. You hope it gives you a professional first impression.

The main entrance of the building shows a little receptionist desk and plush chairs to wait in. You advance the desk while noticing behind it are many tables and folding chairs – probably for lunches.

“Hello, how are you?” a nice lady at the desk says.

You wave shakily, “I’m good. I’m here for an interview with Mr. Hecox and Mr. Padilla.”

She seems to find you saying their surnames comical judging by the little smile on her face. But she gestures to the plush armchairs behind you. “Sure, just wait there and I’ll call them.”

You turn around and notice that behind the chairs is a large window showing a large kitchen. The lunch tables and folding chairs makes more sense.

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the name plate, “Selina.” You sit down and holding your famously large fanny pack in your lap. It gives you something to hold with your fidgeting hands.

Now sitting, you can see the wide windows behind Selina’s desk. There’s a long conference table in there with a television and speakers on a stand. There’s a phone speaker in the middle of the table for any people that are being called in remotely.

Behind the conference table is a little sitting area with a couch and armchair. A couple tables and folding chairs are in the rest of the open space. It’s probably a big room for any meetings with teams or big groups of people.

“(Y/N) Bennett?” someone asks. You jump and stand to see two men coming around the corner.

One is taller with dark, wavy styled hair, a nose ring, and cool tattoos spidering up his neck. He has a great smile and just radiates a natural energy you like.

The other is slightly shorter with brown hair in a classic cut. He has a scruffy beard and black square glasses. He gives very much dad energy with how he’s dressed.

“Yes,” you say rather breathlessly. “I’m (Y/N) Bennett.”

“I’m Anthony,” the taller says, “And this is Ian.”

You shake hands with them, Ian gesturing to the conference room. “We’ll meet in here.”

The three of you walk into the room and take seats around the long table. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say quietly, “Thank you for offering me an interview.”

“For sure,” Anthony says, leaning forward in his chair. Ian sits and immediately starts spinning back and forth. “We saw your portfolio and were really impressed with your work.”

“Thank you,” you say eagerly.

Ian clears his throat, “Could you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“Well, I’m living here with my boyfriend. I’ve lived here for about two years. Before that I was in Nevada, just outside of Vegas. My family is still there,” you say quietly. “I’ve been a theatre and fine arts student all my life. I’ve been doing community and school productions since second grade. I have experience in both stage acting and in tech behind the scenes.”

“Which do you prefer?” Anthony asks.

You hold onto your fanny pack, “Right now, probably tech. I really enjoy designing costumes and putting characters together. Sometimes I do miss acting though.”

“What do you enjoy about art design?” Ian questions.

You focus on his chair spinning back and forth. “I’m a fan of storytelling. I think one of the greatest talents a person can have is in telling a story, no matter the platform. If I can be a part of that process, I’d enjoy every second. I want to show the story in costumes, hair, and makeup. It’s the most expressive way to describe a person or character.”

“Well said,” Anthony nods. “How would you manage a set when coordinating those things?”

“I would need to see the costume closet to know how to care for it. Organization is key, ensuring you don’t lose any pieces. You’d need a costume rack on set and some essentials, like safety pins, apparel tape, a lint roller, things like that. Makeup vanities will need to be disinfected and cleaned after use, brushes clean and organized. Prosthetics and stage makeup would need to be cared for to make sure we don’t share any germs and possible infections. The same goes for any hair and wig essentials.”

Ian seems a little lost in your explanation, just impressed that you were on top of it. “You have a fine arts degree, is that right?”

You nod, voice still quiet with the nerves. “That’s right. I got a bachelor’s in fine arts at Utah Tech University in St. George, Utah.”

“Is that close to where you’re from in Nevada?” Anthony asks.

You smile, “Yeah, it’s just over an hour away. It has a well known outdoor theatre called the Tuacahn Amphitheatre. I helped with a few tech things during summer shows. And then I acted at the college.”

“What shows did you act in?” Anthony asks further.

You play with your fingers. “We did Footloose, Addams Family, The Drowsy Chaperone, Elf: The Musical, Measure for Measure, and Much Ado About Nothing.”

Anthony whistles, “You did Shakespeare?”

“I love Shakespeare,” you say. “Much Ado About Nothing is my favorite play.”

“You are a major theatre kid,” Ian says, “Why don’t you act anymore?”

You squeeze your fanny pack, “I’ve gotten a little camera shy the last couple years. I prefer helping with quick changes and fixing any mic tape mishaps.”

You take a turn asking some questions about their art department and typical filming schedule. You learn about their expectations for the job and what the salary would be. It was exactly as Spencer had said.

Ian and Anthony share a look with each other before leaning forward. Anthony looks at you kindly, “Would you mind if we conference for a minute? We want to give you an answer today.”

You widen your eyes, “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

The pair stand and excuse themselves to discuss things outside the room. You’re left in the swivel chair, picking at your fingers and praying that the interview went well. It would be incredible to be given a job that grants you the security and stable income you wanted.

There was a chance to have friends here. Spencer and Angela would be here. You would be storytelling in little comedy sketches. You’d be a part of a team that designed characters. You’d be in charge of ensuring faces weren’t shiny on camera, hair was in place, and clothes looked good.

This could be a home for you.

It takes almost ten minutes for Ian and Anthony to return. They come back with two others that are introduced as Cassie and Erin. They are art director and assistant art director for all productions.

You would be working beneath them should you be offered the position.

More questions are asked by the newcomers, and you find them to be very kind and artistic like yourself. You agree on many fronts, having many things in common. You would be happy to be working in their department.

Ian and Anthony both have smiles on their faces when they say:

“(Y/N), we want to formally offer you the position of assistant art coordinator. Responsible for hair and makeup, and the costumes of the cast. You’ll be our main reference for any special effects makeup and prosthetics. And you’ll help coordinate for all four channels.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. “Really?”

Cassie and Erin had faces full of sympathy. Cassie was covering her face with her hands. Erin was folding their arms and smiling.

Ian was standing their awkwardly, looking at your emotional reaction, but Anthony was quicker to ask. “Is that a yes?”

You laugh tearily, “Yes! Yes, I’d love to take the position. Thank you guys so much. I’m so excited – I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

They all clap momentarily, Ian announcing, “Then we should call everyone to the lunchroom and make introductions.”

“We’ll have Selina bring up contracts to sign,” Anthony says, gesturing to the door. “You want to follow us?”

You nod enthusiastically, shaking hands with everyone on the way out. There are lots of thank yous and congratulations.

Cassie, Erin, and Ian go to round up cast and crew to the lunch tables you spotted earlier. Anthony goes to speak with Selina at the receptionist desk.

You exit the conference room, wiping tears away and clutching your fanny pack.

Spencer was there, pacing by the plush armchairs you sat in earlier. He has his arms crossed, one hand at his mouth, tracing his lips in a nervous gesture.

At your arrival, his head whips to you, eyes wide at the tears running down your face. He looks so afraid, unsure of how the interview went. But he might’ve misinterpreted your tears.

“(Y/N),” he says softly, “What… what did they say?”

He didn’t even notice the other people gathering at the lunch tables.

You walk towards him, still trying to wipe at your face, “Spence.”

He wants to hug you desperately then. He wants to comfort you. And he wants to hurt whoever decided to make you cry.

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face there. He holds you back, still at a loss as to what the final verdict was.

“(Y/N)!” you hear Anthony, “Get over here!”

Spencer still holds you as you whisper to him, “I got the job.”

He pulls away and holds your waist, “What?”

“I got the job,” you whisper more excitedly. “They’re about to announce it to everyone.” You flounce away to stand at a counter with a few mini fridges, addressing a group of cast and crew. You notice Angela standing in the crowd.

She gives you two thumbs up and you wave back.

Spencer walks over just as Ian begins to talk.

“Hey, guys! We wanted to introduce our newest member of Smosh. This is (Y/N) Bennett!”

Anthony continues, “She will be working in the art department as an assistant art coordinator. She’ll be our head of character design and management of costumes, hair, and makeup.”

The crowd begins clapping and shouting their congratulations. Spencer joins them, standing next to Angela and a few others.

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, some cast and crew were sharing looks. People you hadn’t met yet were winking at each other. They knew full well how much Spencer wanted you to get this job.

You wave at everyone, “Hello! I’m so excited to meet you all and start working on these projects.”

Everyone breaks apart to introduce themselves.

Angela brings over a number of people, “Hey, (Y/N).” She says, “Here are some of our castmates.”

A tall woman in a beautiful jumpsuit says, “I’m Amanda, welcome to the Smosh family.”

“I’m Shayne,” a fit blonde man shakes your hand, “And this is Courtney.”

“Hi,” a blonde woman then shakes your hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Angela sticks her head in, “Those two are married.”

You nod, giggling, “Wonderful.”

“I’m Chanse,” a curly haired man says, giving you a hug, “Welcome to the team.”

A tall man with a great mustache waves, “I’m Tommy!”

“Hi!” you say, “It might take me a while to remember all your names. Thank you for being so welcoming. I’m so excited to start.”

“Spencer’s told us a lot about you,” Amanda says with a cheeky smile.

You look toward Spencer’s rosy face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Oh, definitely,” Shayne laughs, “He has nothing but praise for you.”

Spencer ignores the immediate retort that the single worst thing about you is your boyfriend. “You guys need to calm down.”

“Can we give you a tour?” Amanda asks, taking your arm, “The office has a lot of sets and rooms.”

Courtney appears on your other side, “We can show you the art department and the costumes closet!”

“And the makeup vanities,” Chanse says, already leading the way, “There are a couple by the sets, but there is one in the green room where Angela takes her naps.”

“Hey!” Angela instantly retorts, “Hey, hey, hey… uncalled for!”

Amanda scoffs, “But true.”

Angela snorts, “Yeah, sure.”

You are dragged away by Amanda and Courtney, Chanse and Angela still bickering along the way.

Spencer stays where he is with Shayne. The latter having a very knowing smirk on his face. Spencer ignores him as long as he can.

“Have you ever been told that you shouldn’t make faces because you’ll be stuck that way?”

Shayne chortles, “I’m just curious how you feel about this.”

“Clearly you already have a theory.”

“I do, based purely on the last eleven months of you pining over this girl.”

“I am incapable of pining.”

Shayne wheezes, “Yeah, sure. What do you call bringing up (Y/N) whenever possible, talking through ways to introduce yourself to her, workshopping conversations with me to get to know her…”

“All of those things were in confidence.”

“And all blatant examples of pining over a woman you’ve grown attached to!”

Spencer licks his lips, watching you being dragged by Angela towards the pods of employee desks. “I don’t… I can’t do anything about it now.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, man,” Shayne chortles. “It’s kind of throwing me off right now. You don’t talk about girls much.”

“The dating apps have been seriously lacking the last year.”

“Because you’ve been talking up some chick at the gas station,” Shayne laughs again. “I have to commend you for playing the long game.”

Spencer shakes his head, “I have to be fine with being just friends.”

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be your best friend.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚐𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which kk unintentionally helps paige shoot her shot

You’re halfway through a solo Fortnite match when your Twitch chat explodes.

"YOOOOO PAIGE BUECKERS WATCHING YOUR STREAM RN" "RELOAD TWITTER GIRL YOU’RE TRENDING" "CHECK TIKTOK CHECK TIKTOK"

You furrow your brow, barely avoiding a snipe as you crank up to high ground.

“Wait, what?” you mutter, glancing over at your second monitor. Notifications are flying in from every direction—mentions on Twitter, TikTok tags, even DMs from mutuals losing their minds.

Paige Bueckers?

The Paige Bueckers?

You land a kill and duck into a bush to pull up your phone. You open TikTok, your thumb flying to the “@“ tab, and there it is—a TikTok live screen recording that’s going viral. It’s from KK Arnold, the UConn basketball guard, who’d been casually doing a TikTok Live Q&A from their apartment. She's lounging on the couch, vibing with the comments when someone asks:

“Where’s Paige?”

She flips the camera around, revealing Paige on the couch in sweats, legs curled up, face inches from her iPad screen with her AirPods in. Concentrating hard.

“There she is,” KK says. “Locked in, bro.”

Someone else in the comments must’ve asked what Paige was doing because KK squints at the camera and then calls out:

“Yo Paige, what are you watching?”

Paige doesn’t even look up.

“Some Fortnite stream.”

KK snickers. “Some Fortnite stream? Or your Fortnite streamer?”

Paige pauses. Looks up. Realizes what KK’s doing. “KK—stop—”

Too late.

“She’s watching that streamer,” KK says with a sly grin. “The one she’s obsessed with. She’s always watching her. Like religiously. Every time she goes live? Boom—Paige is right here, front row.”

Paige tries to grab KK’s phone, laughing nervously and blushing deep red.

“End the live, bro. I swear—”

But it’s already out there.

Your jaw drops. You pause your stream.

“Wait—she’s obsessed with me?”

Your chat goes ballistic.

"BROOOO DM HER RIGHT NOW" "SHOOT YOUR SHOT Y/N" "PAIGE BUECKERS GOT A CRUSH ON YOU OMG"

You hesitate, your heartbeat fluttering like you just got a Victory Royale. You’ve always thought Paige was attractive—hell, who didn’t? But you never imagined she even knew who you were, let alone watched your streams religiously.

Screw it.

You pull up Instagram, type in her name (you were already following her, obviously), and start typing a message:

hey… so I heard you like watching Fortnite streams? 👀

You hover for half a second.

Then hit send.

Paige is back in her room, hoodie pulled over her head like that’ll hide her from the world. She’s been fighting off messages all day—her teammates roasting her, her phone buzzing nonstop. Even Coach Geno had made a joke at practice about her “gaming girlfriend.”

She groans and flops on her bed, still clutching her iPad.

“Why did she have to say that on live,” she mutters, swiping through her notifications. “Couldn’t she just say I was watching Netflix or something?”

Then she freezes.

Because there it is.

@/yourusername hey… so I heard you like watching Fortnite streams? 👀

Her whole body goes still.

“What the—”

She sits up so fast she nearly drops her iPad. Then she jumps out of bed, grabs her phone, and bolts down the hall yelling:

“KK!”

You’ve went back to the game, but your mind is still spinning.

You’ve got thousands of viewers watching as you try to focus on your next match, but then your phone buzzes again.

Paige Bueckers replied to your message.

You almost fall out of your gaming chair.

omg i didn’t mean for that to get out lmaooo but yes. yes i love your streams. you’re cracked and funny and hot and i’m embarrassed now 😅

You giggle softly, trying not to show how flustered you are on stream.

“Okay,” you say to chat, “I might have to end early tonight… I’ve got a DM to answer.”

"SAY LESS." "Y/N LOGGING OFF TO BAG BUECKERS." "WE SHIPPING THIS HARD."

You mute your mic and start typing back.

don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute. wanna run duos sometime? maybe grab food after if we win? 

You watch the dots bubble up right away.

And somewhere in Connecticut, Paige is smiling so hard her face hurts.

The next night, your stream is scheduled for 8 p.m. sharp.

But by 7:30, your Twitch chat is already in riot mode.

"IS IT TRUE??? PAIGE BUECKERS DUO STREAM???" "OMG THIS IS ABOUT TO BE ICONIC" "Y/N PLEASE WE NEED CONFIRMATION"

You’re pacing in your room, phone in hand, controller charged, headset on. Heart doing backflips. Because yeah—you and Paige had been texting all day, and yes—she is joining your stream.

Your Discord pings. She’s in the voice call.

You take a deep breath, click your stream intro, and go live.

“Hey guys,” you say, trying to sound cool, calm, collected. “Sooo… we have a special guest tonight. I think you might’ve heard of her.”

You turn on the Discord audio.

“…hey,” Paige’s voice comes through your headphones, low and a little shy.

Your chat loses its collective mind.

“NO WAY!!!!” "PAIGEEE???" "SHE'S HERE OH MY GOD" "ACT NORMAL EVERYONE ACT NORMAL"

You laugh, your nerves melting a little at the sound of her voice.

“You good over there, Bueckers?”

“I mean,” she says, “I’ve hit buzzer beaters in the Final Four, but this is more terrifying.”

You chuckle. “Don’t worry, chat doesn’t bite… much.”

“I’ve seen your chat. That’s a lie.”

The two of you drop into a Duo match, landing at your usual spot—Sweaty Sands. From the start, it’s banter.

“You better not die first,” Paige teases as she loots a chest.

“I carry every duo, I don’t care who they are,” you shoot back, grabbing a shotgun.

“Oh really? We’ll see about that.”

You end up with 5 kills in the first 10 minutes, and Paige goes down once—but you revive her. The moment you do, your Twitch overlay lights up with spammed donations and subscriptions.

"SAVING YOUR GIRL 😭😭" "THE WAY Y/N RISKED IT ALL" "DADDY'S HOME"

You glance at chat and laugh. “They’re calling you my girl, by the way.”

Paige doesn’t answer for a beat. Then, softly:

“…I mean, they’re not wrong.”

Your fingers stutter on your controller.

“…Wait, what?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “Focus, enemy west.”

But chat catches it. Oh, they definitely catch it.

"PAIGE 'THEY NOT WRONG' BUECKERS??? EXCUSE ME???" "Y’ALL FLIRTING ON MAIN RN" "IM SWEATING. SCREAMING. CRYING."

You clutch your chest in mock dramatics. “Y’all trying to make me choke on air right now.”

Paige laughs. “Focus up, streamer. We’ve got a crown to win.”

You end the stream two hours later with a couple wins and a viewer count that broke your previous record by a mile.

You thank everyone, say goodnight, and mute your mic—but don’t leave the call.

You and Paige stay in Discord, just the two of you now, no chat, no cameras. Just that soft space where everything feels a little more real.

“That was fun,” she says quietly.

You smile. “Yeah. You’re actually good.”

“Are you surprised?”

“A little. I figured you'd be more of a Minecraft girl.”

She scoffs. “Rude.”

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches a little too long but feels kind of nice.

“…So,” Paige says, “was that food offer real?”

You glance at your phone—her name glowing at the top of your screen.

“Yeah,” you say, voice a little quieter now. “You win a Victory Royale with me, you earn dinner.”

Paige hums. “What if I just want to hang out? Like, even without the game?”

You grin.

“Then we skip the match and get food anyway.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then:

“I’m flying out next weekend.”

Your heart stutters.

“…Seriously?”

She chuckles. “Only if you promise not to crush me at Fortnite again.”

“No promises.”

On Twitter, you’re trending under:

#BueckersAndY/N “Paige Bueckers and the Fortnite streamer girl” “duos 4 life 💘”

But the real moment? It’s when Paige posts on her Instagram Story later that night. A blurry picture of her iPad screen, paused on your stream, with one caption:

“GG, beautiful.”

i actually haven't played fortnite in days cause i been busy with writing all these fics and i am in withdrawal... do y'all play?

[invincibledc]

ᝰ.ᐟ𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍?

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ Summary: obsessed clown boy versus girl boss who walks him like a dog? Wait, is that the female Robin?

── .✦ Genre: crack fic(?) idk but I wrote this

── .✦ Info: this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. Jack and reader are in their mid teens, 15-17. Jack is considered canonically handsome. Reader is the twin sister of Damian Wayne.

── .✦ Word count: 1,039

Being a duo, especially another Robin with your twin brother. You were patrolling Gotham in the east, sighing as you looked over the busy streets. It’s boring, but this is what you do now for a living since your mother dropped you and Damian here to meet your father.

Leaning back with a sigh, your vision was soon taken over by gloved hands. “Guess who~,” a deep raspy voice said into your ear.

Shivers ran down your spine, you pulled the hands from you, twisting the arms of the person and forcing them onto their back.

Eyes narrowed, you see the boy joker. Son of Joker and Harley Quinn. “Jack.” “Birdy~” he purrs as he pulls his arms forward. You couldn’t help but yelp, leaning forward. You were soon on the ground as well of the roof of this building.

“Isn’t it nice to just, relax with me puddin'?” Jack says gently, wrapping his arms around your waist. You stared at the boy who gave you soft puppy eyes. You.. hated him. Is what you repeat in your head despite your fingers combing through his dyed hair.

Jack knew you couldn’t resist him, and he couldn’t be with you. “Is the big bat patrolling, or did you come out to see me, sweetheart.” You hum, facing the night sky that has cloudy skies.

“The whole gang is patrolling. And if they see me cuddling up with the son of the most crazed man ever. This might not end well.” You pull your hands from his hair, Jack has already relaxed against you. He frowned at the absence of your fingers through his hair.

“Well, fuck 'em. Keep spoiling me with all your attention birdy.” Couldn’t help but laugh, you rolled your eyes as you moved from Jack. Sitting up til you fully stand.

“I love to entertain you clown boy, but I got things to do.” You said lastly before jumping off the roof. Jack grins, looking over the roof to not see you anymore.

“Damn, she’s good.”

✦

It was another night, you were defeating some goons. A tall goon came behind you, grabbing you in their big arms. Grumbling, you gritted your teeth. “Got you, you little bitch!” The male exclaims as if his favorite football team won.

But as you go to release your arms, a king card hits the goon’s left arm. The card was sharp, apparently so sharp as the male’s arm started to bleed.

“Agh!” The goon lets you go, just to try and take the card out. But you didn’t give him as much chance as you did a spinning roundhouse kick to his face. The man was then knocked out, you picked up the card that had impaled the male’s arm.

“I think that belongs to me, babe.” Feeling arms wrapped around your waist. His heavy hands gripped your hips. You jolted, turning to face Jack who had a soft grin. “You could’ve at least told me you were fighting bad guys. Then I would’ve protected what’s mine.”

Your face felt heated up as he gave your hips another squeeze. “Get off me you clown!” flaying your arms around, Jack had gotten elbowed by you. But he didn't care, he loved it.

You could have easily stabbed him, pinned him down, hurt him, or maybe even arrested him.

But you haven't.

And he loves it.

“Calm down puddin`, let me take care of you.” effortlessly, he lifts over your shoulder. Eyes widen, shocked, you look at Jack’s back, and at the knocked-out man.

“Wait! I need to tie that guy up, so Officer Gordon can get him.” pointing to the slight bleeding man. Jack sighed annoyed, his eyes relaxed and narrowed. There's one thing he hated about you, which is your empathy. He loves it, but damn was it annoying.

“Why should we, he’s just gonna try and mug someone again.” soon Jack felt a smack at his head.

“Do it now.” your voice lowered with authority. “Yes ma’am,” Jack said lastly, complying to you. He never denies his girl, if there’s one thing his mom taught him, was to always give your hardest to get what you want. And it's you.

✦

Jason and Damian hate the boy joker, mostly Jason. Jason wants to strangle Jack. Jack could try and hide, taking off his painted face and looking normally like an average boy. His blonde hair and blue eyes stared into yours as you looked completely over him.

The ‘normal’ looking boy had equipped a rose, smiling as Jason was behind you. Glaring at Jack like a protective and angry older brother.

“Get lost kid,” Jason says pointing out more. “And If I see you close to the manor, I'm shooting you.” “Jason?!” you blurted shocked at how Jason said that. Jack rolled his eyes, “whatever old man.” Jason raised a brow. “Old man?” Jack gave you the rose simply, walking off as he waved at you.

Jason slammed the door, taking the rose from you. “Of course, you get a villain’s son to fall in love with you. I can't believe this.” you chased after Jason as he ripped the flower up. “You are Bruce’s kid.” the tanned male with scars all over his body said lastly.

Scoffing, you kicked the back of his knees, having him fall onto his face. “Shut the hell up, don't try and say that shit to my face when you’re single and miserable.” you walked past his fallen body before he got up and grabbed your ankle. Leading you to scream. “AHH!! Let go!!” you screamed for the whole manor to hear.

Damian came rushing down with a katana, “Sister! I'm here, what's the problem?” “Jason’s the problem!” you exclaimed, trying to pull your leg from Jason’s tight grip. “This little shit is dating the Joker’s son!” he shouted.

“No I'm not!” you shouted at Jason with a shocked expression, your heart racing, you turned towards your twin brother who dropped his katana in shock. His jaw was wide open before he grabbed his sword and walked past you and Jason.

“Where are you doing?” you questioned Damian who went to the front door.

“I'm out to get the head of a clown.”

“DAMIAN NO!”

[muwapsturniolo]

Cupids choke hold જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 C. Sturniolo

"dad, i think i finally found the one."

⟢Fluff really, Chris just being in love with bun

@bernardsbendystraws for credit

The sun was setting over the city of angels, and Chris was entranced by his own angel.

Bunny.

He stared down at his lock screen, smiling softly to himself as the picture brought warmth to his chest. His admiration was interrupted by his phone ringing, a name popping up that he hadn't spoken to in a while. He answers the call and puts it on speaker, instantly feeling comforted by the voice on the other end.

"Hey son, where have you been?"

The question makes him feel guilty. He was always a mama's boy despite his harsh exterior, his mother being his rock and safe place, and she loved it. The mother and son duo knew to a degree it wasn't fair, but they were each other's favorites, and everyone else knew it too.

"Hey Ma," he says softly, inhaling a bit of the joint before tapping the excess ashes off. "I know it's been a minute since we last spoke...I have so much to tell you."

He begins to feel nervous like he is about to be judged. He knew it was an irrational fear, his mother would never judge him, even when he did something wrong.

"It's going to sound like a bad joke, but Ma...I fell in love, I found the real thing. I got a girlfriend and she's amazing."

A bit of shuffling is heard on the other end before she responds to him, "A girlfriend? Is the same one that- No." Chris instantly cuts her off, not even wanting to bring up the last girl. She was never his girlfriend. He would never say this to his mother, but she was nothing more than a quick fuck to him.

"No no, this...This is someone new and she's the best thing to happen to me. I probably sound like an old person, but Cupids got me in a chokehold. You know me, I've always been scared to let people in, especially girls, but she made it so easy that I threw the towel down. My white flag is waving, and I'm okay with that."

He couldn't help himself, instantly going on a long ramble about the girl he found himself to love so much.

"-I mean, she cooks me pancakes in the morning, the blueberry ones that you make me when I'm back home. God, and I'm starting to think you two use the same ingredients."

"And what are those ingredients?"

He smiles dopily to himself, looking down at his beat-up Nike slides,

"Love."

Mary-Lou finds herself smiling. She had been worried when her boys finally left the nest they call a home that they wouldn't be ok, but it seemed as if they were doing just fine, finding the right people to have in their lives and keeping their heads straight.

"Tell me more." She urges gently, not wanting to scare the boy into retreating his feelings, but also wanting to know more about the special girl who managed to capture her youngest attention and heart.

"When my stomach hurts, she always gets me Alka seltzers. When I'm sick she goes above and beyond to make sure I'm ok. If that ain't love then don't know what love is, it's like we're married."

"Well, it is through sickness and health, they say during the vows."

He chuckles to himself and continues, "We have this secret handshake, we came up with it on our fourth date when I learned she didn't know how to dapp people up. We're always doing it before she goes to practice and it just brings me so much comfort. Oh, and she even gets along with Matt and Nick! You know how close we are, and I don't think I could date someone who doesn't respect them. She even supports the YouTube shi- I mean stuff we do! I know I'm not that much involved, but she's pushed me to participate more, to be something more."

"...You sound in love..." Mary-Lou states softly, trying to hold in her excitement.

Chris chuckles to himself, nodding along despite Mary Lou not being able to see him.

"I am...I really am. If I had to pick her or the sun, Ma, I'm telling you I'd be a nocturnal son of a gun."

She laughs at his statement, soon urging him to send her a picture of the girl.

"Oh Chris, she's so pretty! And the way you look at her, it's the same way your dad looks at me. You have to bring her to Boston soon!"

So he did.

His chest was ready to burst with excitement and joy seeing the girl he loves so much getting along with his parents and older brother. She fit right in, doing crossword puzzles with his mom, playing Just Dance with Justin, and even going fishing with his dad.

It was late into the night, Chris sitting outside on the back porch, smoking with a glass of water in his hand. Bunny had fallen asleep on the couch with Trevor, both she and the dog snuggled up into a ball and sleeping peacefully. He looks up hearing the door open, smiling gently when he sees his dad.

Jimmy takes a seat in the empty chair next to Chris, settling down and letting out a deep breath. They sit in silence for a minute before Jimmy speaks.

"Tell me about her."

Chris immediately dives in, never missing an opportunity to talk about his girl.

"Dad, I think I finally found the one, the one that makes me a better person and will make you proud of me. She's like Mom, she's the best... I know there have been other girls; you've heard about them, but she's different, she's on a whole different plane. Just the way she says my name, it makes me want to give her the world, hell, even the universe."

Jimmy listens intently, watching how he talks with such passion about the girl sleeping on the couch.

"I love it when she calls me. I feel like an elementary school boy getting excited about his crush talking to him on the playground. She even has her own ringtone so I know its her calling! We used to sit on the phone for hours, doing nothing but breathing most of the time."

"She's a good girl, a real catch. I can see the love you two have for each other, I saw it when we picked you up from the airport. You two are in love and I hope it lasts."

Chris takes a sip of his water, staring out into the backyard with a smile and eyes full of love.

"I know it will, I'm not letting her get away."

He creeps back into the house softly, approaching the living room and chuckling to himself when he sees both Bun and Trev drooling in their sleep.

He goes to pick her up but stops when Justin enters the living room.

"You went soft on me," Justin voices playfully, gently pushing Chris's shoulder. Chris rubs the back of his neck, sitting down on the arm of the couch and placing a hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder.

"She's the reason, she makes it so easy to be...I don't even know. She could make the most annoying, oldest, senile man bite his tongue and talk calmly. Her eyes are so soft and comforting, it's like the sunrise on a summer day, I could stare into them for hours."

Justin watches with a knowing smile on his face. He can tell from how animated Chris gets when talking about her, that he will continue to do so forever. He's in love, and Justin knows the two will end up happily married, and he can't wait.

" She's a complete ten, the most gorgeous and graceful girl I've ever seen. She has me hooked, and I'm not complaining. She has the best laugh ever, and she laughs at all my jokes, even my dumb ones that usually piss Nick and Matt off. Like I told Dad, before we moved in with each other, we'd sit on the phone for hours not saying a word sometimes. We just wanted to be around each other and it was comforting. "

He looks down at the girl once more, toying with her curly strands gently in an attempt to not disturb her slumber.

"It may be too soon, but when I think about my future, when I think about what I want it to look like, it all surrounds her. I want to be the best version of me for her, and I want her to be happy...Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love, or whatever, but everywhere I go and do, I keep a picture of her in my wallet. I want to remember what I'm working for."

Justin walks over and plants his hand on Chris's shoulder, "I can't wait to call her my sister-in-law."

With that, Justin walks out of the living room, leaving the couple and Trevor alone. Chris is gentle when he lifts the girl off the couch, one of his hands caressing her back while the other holds her bottom. He walks up the stairs and into his room, laying her down gently on the bed.

He strips out of his hoodie, kicking off his slides, and crawling into bed, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

Despite her being asleep, he proceeds to whisper softly.

"I love you so much, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

She opens her eyes softly, smiling at him in a sleepy haze.

"I love you more."

[deadpanjisung]

♔ the monarchs’ quarrel ♔

pairing: versace prince!hwang hyunjin x versace princess!reader MDNI!!!!! genre: enemies to lovers, angst, smut

cw: y/n and hyune are both assholes (soz), swearing, insecurities, a lot of bickering, jealousy, references to monarchy but only inside versace, pet names (princess/prince), kinda roleplay-ish, unrealistic scenarios,etc.

wc: 6.6k smut cw: breast play, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), missionary sex, unprotected sex, cre4mpie, cumplay, etc. (sorry if i missed any). feedback is encouraged ◡̈ i hope you enjoy♡ -˚₊‧꒰ა ginny ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・ Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung All rights reserved. ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・

Hotel, Milan, 2025, 5:30 p.m.

“Can you get me a pin, please?” You asked your makeup artist. She nodded and scurried over to the dresser. 

You weren’t supposed to pin anything up by yourself, but your usual stylist was too busy assisting Donatella’s golden prince for his appearance in Milan Fashion Week. And your appointed stylist was recording an interview. Therefore, Yuri handed you the pin, you carefully folded a piece of fabric on the inside of your dress and pinned it up.

Your gown was regal, nothing less for Versace’s (now overlooked) princess. A stunning black lace gown with red and purple accents cascaded down your body. Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail in attempts to make your stunning gold tiara stand out. Golden, sapphire and amethyst beads adorned your neck, wrists and ears. 

You loved this life, royalty at her finest. But you couldn’t resist feeling jealous of Hyunjin. You were Versace’s favorite ambassador before he came. Donatella used to flaunt you a year ago. You used to design your outfits with her for months before Hyunjin became an ambassador. Now she splits her time between you and Hyunjin. “Envy” was a more appropriate term for what you felt. You were casted aside when he came into the scene. 

You couldn’t stand being next to him for the fashion show, you couldn’t stand to be the face of the new campaign along him, and you could barely digest the fact that your companies arranged him to be featured in one of your songs. Hyunjin was appropriating everything that you did. And he did it better than you. Being stuck next to him, pretending to be friends with your biggest opponent in the industry was psychological torture to you. But you loved Donatella even amidst your abandonment issues, you did it for her. You couldn’t be the person that burst her dream of having you and Hyunjin as the new faces of Versace. It wouldn’t be fair after how much she helped you grow. Of how she’s actively making your biggest dream come true.

“Y/N? Can I finish applying your lipstick?” Yuri asked, interrupting your internal monologue.

“Yes, of course.” You replied, sitting back down in your gorgeous, but uncomfortable, dress.

You didn’t expect Donatella to barge into your hotel room, but there she was, in all her glory. Your fashion role model since you could remember.

“My princess! You are stunning!” She exclaimed upon seeing you and sent a flying kiss towards your way. You blushed.

“Nothing but the best to represent you, the queen of the fashion industry.” You replied. Donatella laughed. 

“You flatter me too much, princess! You are this brand’s future, you do know?” She said, “You and Hyunjin, of course. My little monarchs. My prettiest duo.” It took a lot of self-control for you to not roll your eyes at her mention of Hyunjin’s name. You smiled.

“You give us too much credit. The prince is certainly handsome and I, must be beautiful in your eyes, but we are just a speckle of the myriad that is your vision.” You added. She laughed once again.

“Thank you. My gorgeous, gorgeous girl. I will see you at the show.” She threw you another kiss and exited the room. Your makeup artist chuckled as she left. 

“Yuri, c’mon!” You whined.

“What? I just think it’s funny that she’s completely unaware that you and Hyunjin don’t like each other.” Yuri commented. “Plus, it’s funny to see your princess act in real time.” You snickered. 

And stared at yourself in the mirror. Your dark purple and gold makeup matched your dress and accessories. You looked beautiful, a version of yourself that would never again exist when you took off your makeup and your gown. You sighed at the thought of losing her, the best version of yourself. The only version you rendered worthy of being perceived. 

“Okay, Y/N. You’re fabulous. Let’s go!” Yuri said, softly yanking at your sleeve. 

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Milan Fashion Week, 2025, 7:30 p.m.

You arrived at the venue, feeling nervous and bashful and everything in between. Paparazzi took pictures of you as you walked inside, slowly and confidently, as a mask for your insecurity.

You instantly spot Donatella; and next to her, Hyunjin, as expected. You hadn’t seen him since you shot your promotional pictures for the collection. You had heard that he had cut all of his hair off, but you didn’t expect him to look so… nice …with a buzzcut. You strode over to Donatella and Hyunjin.

“There she is!” Donatella exclaimed. Hyunjin looked back at you, his blue contacts burning into your eyes. “Absolutely breathtaking!”

“My princess,” Hyunjin bowed. “You look beautiful, as always.” 

“My prince, you are truly a sight for sore eyes tonight.” You curtsied. “It is only my luck that I will be standing next to you.” You mostly hated this character, it did amuse you at times, but most importantly, Donatella loved it.

“It is my pleasure to be in the company of the most stunning person here.” He added. “Only after, our ethereal queen, of course.” He looked at Donatella.

“Oh! Hyunjin, you are too much!” She laughed. “The love you have for each other is perfection, my prince and princess. Make sure to show it at the carpet, okay?” You both nodded. She was dragged away by one of her assistants. 

Once Donatella left, your demeanor changed completely. Neither of you smiled, you took out your phone. 

“My princess…” Hyunjin mocked. “Do we have anything prepared to say tonight?” You rolled your eyes.

“My prince.” You sighed. “Yes, deny a relationship between us, duh. Then, promote the campaign, tease our musical collaboration, take pictures together and, my favorite: avoid each other until the next event.”

“Well, princess. I don’t think that’s very loving of you.” He snickered and extended his arm to you. You apprehensively locked arms with him as you stepped into the carpet. Flashing lights overwhelmed you as you tried to keep a straight face for the cameras. Hyunjin was a natural at this. At times, you would just stare at him in annoying admiration for his beauty and talent.

“Prince and Princess! Is this what it looks like?” A reporter asked. “Are you hard launching a relationship tonight?” You both chuckled.

“It would be an honor, but I must deny that. My princess and I are undeniably together in soul, but in body just to promote our new collection that’ll be presented tonight!”

“It is so honoring for us to have worked on these designs with the one and only, Donatella. She is always the main event. My prince and I are just assistants to her genius.”

“I bet STAY will be relieved to hear that!” The reporter added. “Anything we should expect from this collection tonight?”

“A mix of our styles and personalities is the most characterizing thing.” Hyunjin replied.

“C’mon, anything else? For the viewers?”

“The prince and I do enjoy keeping some things in the dark, don’t we?” You teased. Hyunjin nodded.

“I’ll just say this… you should expect a lot from us very soon.” Hyunjin agreed. 

“Oh! I’m intrigued now. I encourage you all to follow the prince and princess very closely, then.” The reporter commented. “You both look absolutely spectacular! Thank you for your time!” 

You and Hyunjin recorded about ten more interviews along those same scriptures. You took countless pictures together, faking smiles, laughs and hugs. You sat next to each other during the runway show, but you paid no attention to each other unless someone else was talking to you as a pair.

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Milan Fashion Week Afterparty, 2025, 11:00 p.m.

The club’s dimmed lights engulfed your vision, the bitter taste of alcohol flooded your taste buds. You changed into a shorter, purple dress, an outtake designed for the same campaign. Your body was sticky from dancing. You exchanged harmless gossip with your fellow ambassadors in amicable manner over some drinks. 

You couldn’t anticipate that during the afterparty, Hyunjin would keep you at arm’s length. He left you for a few minutes at a time and eventually returned to your side during the entirety of the night. You didn’t even talk to each other, not even bickering. His hand lingered on your waist for pictures and friendly conversations with others. He asked you to dance, keeping your act for Donatella’s sake. Hyunjin fetched your drinks for you in a false attempt to look like your ever so chivalrous prince. 

“Princess, you look tired.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “It’s not a good look. Can I take you to your hotel?”

“Gee, thanks, my prince.” You replied, tipsiness making your speech slur. “I don’t need you to take me anywhere.”

“Princess. I mean it. You don’t really know anyone here. I’d rather take you; it’s on my way.” He said, sternly. 

“Hyunjin. I basically don’t even know you either.” You spat. “This is only a gimmick.”

“Look, Y/N. JYP and Donatella would both kill me if anything happened to your bratty ass. Whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me. Complain all you want. Better safe than dead.” He argued. You rolled your eyes and wriggled away from his grip, only for Hyunjin to grab your wrist and yank you back towards him. 

“Hyunjin.” You whispered, aware that whining would draw too much attention to you. “It’s fine. I can stay here. It’s okay, really. I’ll call a taxi when the party’s over.”

“Sorry, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t escort my princess to her chambers?” He snickered; you rolled your eyes in defeat. 

Hyunjin dragged you away from the party, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close to his warm, sweaty body. You said your goodbyes distantly. Nobody questioned you, everyone must have assumed you and Hyunjin to be involved as well. 

You managed to divert away from the paparazzi through a secret exit that Hyunjin’s bodyguard was barricading. You had realized why Hyunjin was so adamant for you to leave with him, you had no security with you for the night. An irrevocable mistake from your manager. In your tipsiness, you didn’t think this would be an issue, but you were thankful that he was insistent. You knew that Hyunjin was a pompous asshole, but you were also aware that he didn’t want anything harmful for you, either.  

You entered the black, oversized SUV after him, its cold interior contrasted the heat and humidity of the Milan nightlife. You shivered and Hyunjin took his coat off, throwing it to your side. You didn’t actively accept its warmth, but you didn’t return it either. You didn’t speak to him. He knew where you were going. You had agreed to meet over breakfast the next day, before he returned to Korea, to coordinate the logistics to the music video for your song.

“Can we stop at my hotel first?” He asked the driver. “You can take her afterwards.” The driver silently nodded. You looked over at him. He stared at you blankly and returned to use his phone. You scrolled through social media, until the SUV came to a halt.

“Hyunjin, I need to pee. Can I use your bathroom quickly?” You asked.

“Wow, very princessy of you. You can use the bathroom in the lobby.”

“With this puffy dress? I wouldn’t fit in the stall.” You argued. 

“Ugh. Fine. Wait a few minutes before you come in, though.” He negotiated. You nodded, rolling your eyes. He handed you a keycard.

“We will wait here.” His security guard said, looking back at you. You put on the coat that Hyunjin had left beside you and exited the car.

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Hyunjin’s Hotel, Milan, 2025, 1:45 a.m.

You entered the hotel with the spare keycard in hand. It was fancy, way fancier than yours. It didn’t surprise you, though. Hyunjin had grown his fame a lot during the last few years. Which is part of why you agreed to this prince and princess gimmick and all of those collaborations despite loathing the guy. He kept you relevant in more ways than one. His fans made your name trend, for better or for worse. They bought your designs just because his face was next to yours in the cover. They streamed your music and sent you gifts and love, in the most part. You were grateful for that. You couldn’t stand the guy, but you admired how fiercely loyal his fans were. Even if you received the occasional death threat from them. 

His floor was one of the last ones, having a gigantic suite all for himself, something that you shamefully saw on social media. When you arrived, there were security guards standing in front of the doors. The female guard patted you down.

“Not to be dramatic, but this is highly offensive to me.” You spat. “Hyunjin gave me access, you know?”

“Mr. Hwang, should I have her sign the NDA now?” The other guard asked, as he opened the door. You laughed.

“Ew, no! This is the Versace princess, Y/N. We’re just business partners.” He spoke.

“Oh! I am so sorry, Miss Y/N.” The guard apologized, a blush creeping into his serious demeanor. 

“Don’t worry. That was hilarious.” You chuckled, patting his shoulder as you entered Hyunjin’s suite. 

The dark night couldn’t even dim the suite’s brightness. The room was adorned with flower arrangements galore. You didn’t even notice Hyunjin’s suitcase, opened and messy next to the couch. The room smelled wonderful, of vanilla and various florals. 

“Wow. This suite is so nice!” You said, looking around it.

“You’re here to use the bathroom and leave, remember?” He spat.

“Sheesh!” 

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Hyunjin’s Suite, 2025, 2:00 a.m.

Once you washed your hands, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You had retouched your makeup before the afterparty, but it had smudged anyways. Your lipstick was barely visible, your foundation nonexistent and your mascara looked more like eyeliner. 

“Y/N!!” You heard Hyunjin shout. You hurried out, ready to snap at him but you were met with a very preoccupied Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, what happened?”

“Literally the worst possible thing. Fuck!” 

“Need more info?”

“Fucking hell. We were followed.” He said. “There’s a swarm of paps out there.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah! Ugh. My manager’s talking to yours right now. It seems they didn’t recognize you with my coat on and your hat.” He announced.

“That’s good.”

“No, it isn’t!” He argued. 

“Why?”

“Because they think I’m hooking up with some random girl now!”

“Would you rather they think that you’re hooking up with me?” You protested. “The paps know this isn’t my hotel.”

“Fuck no! I don’t know what’s worse, honestly.” He said, grasping his head. “Shit! If only you would’ve held your pee for like ten minutes! We could have avoided all of this!”

“You were the one who insisted on bringing me with you!” You argued. 

“I didn’t want you here, though!” 

“Okay. It’s okay. I’ll book a room, and I can leave tomorrow morning.” You added, trying to remain cool. “We can just say that I lost my room key at the hotel, and I was too tired or something. And I’ll have the evidence that I stayed here.”

“Wow, the beauty and the brains. You think a hotel like this has vacancy during fashion week?” He asked, sarcastically. 

“I don’t know! Let me call my manager.” 

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Hyunjin’s Suite, 2025, 2:45 a.m.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll let him know. Thanks. Good night. Sorry, again.” You told your manager before hanging up.

It took forty-five minutes from back-to-back calling your managers and the hotel and your companies to agree that your best move would be to stay the night at Hyunjin’s suite, and you’d have a plan for the morning. You feared the possible outcomes: you could get into a dating scandal and get cancelled, you could break your squeaky-clean reputation and lose all hype, you could lose all your contracts and ambassadorships. But, Hyunjin looked absolutely terrified, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“So?” He asked. “Do we have a plan?” You nodded.

“Well, kind of.” He sat down on the sofa and lowered his head. “I’m staying here for the rest of the night. So, you’ll have to let me borrow some clothes to sleep in. Our managers have a scheduled meeting in a few hours, and they’ll discuss what’s our best bet here. My manager said it’ll probably be one of these. So, he could bribe the hotel to fake a reservation but that could get too messy in the future. Or… we’ll have to play the drunk/sick card. Either I’ll be shitfaced and unable to go alone to my hotel or you be shitfaced and ask me to take care of you… That’s what they came up with. We’ll have the script in the morning.”

You looked out of the window to see paparazzi standing outside with their cameras. You pulled the blinds down.

“Shit. I was so careful too. Fuck!”

“It’ll be okay, Hyunjin. Whatever plan they choose to go with will be the best for both of us. My manager said it’s no big deal and that it was actually good that I was caught alongside you and not some other person. The media thinks we’re really close so it shouldn’t be too hard to explain, okay?” You reassured, he nodded, unconvincingly. 

“Fine. Let’s see what happens. We can’t do shit now, anyways. This is what I get for being nice to you.” He mumbled.

“God, you’re such a prick.” You rolled your eyes. “Look, prince, want me to be honest? In any possible outcome I’ll be faced with the major repercussions. Stop acting like a kid. If we go with the "I’m drunk and he helped me”, why would I get drunk in the first place? I’m a lady; a princess. And you’ll be a hero because you helped me. And, if it’s the other one: ‘Wow, Hyunjin is so sensible. He knows when to ask for help. He’s such a darling boy. And she stayed with him because he’s such a good friend to her.’. Or they’ll call me a whore. We’ll get dating rumors for like a month and everything’ll be alright, okay?”

“Will you just shut up for a second? I can’t even think with all your fucking nonsense.”

“Fine. Fuck you, Hyunjin. You’re an asshole. And I hate the fact that I have to share my place as Versace royalty with someone as superficial and narcissistic as you! I worked my ass off for this and you come in being all pretty and get everything you want!” 

“Oh? So, you think I don’t deserve this? You think I haven’t worked myself to the bone to get to where I am? Princess, you’re so fucking wrong. I’m right where I should be. Stay in your lane. You aren’t any better than me.” He barked at you, with a tone that you had never heard him use. A tone that made you feel young again. It made you want to cry. That’s when you knew that you had gone too far. Your eyes welled up with tears.

His expression softened when he saw you tear up, as if he realized that he had gone to far as well. That you were in this together, whether you liked it or not. He sat back down and sighed. You sat on the floor in front of him, rubbing your glossy eyes and further ruining your intense makeup.

“Why don’t you go shower? We both need to cool off. I’ll get you something to wear.” He spoke up, his voice was gentle. You nodded and stood up, walking towards the bathroom again. “There’s a clean robe in there. You can wear that until I find something for you.”

You peeled your dress off and stepped into the shower. The warm water making you feel better almost instantly. You lathered your body with Hyunjin’s, appropriately convenient, lavender soap, which made you relax a bit. You cleansed your face with his expensive cleanser and washed your hair with the shampoo that smelled like him. A little citrusy for your taste.

You dried yourself off as quickly as you could, becoming aware that he probably needed to shower as well. You placed the soft, pink, fuzzy robe on your body and secured it with a knot. You were met with Hyunjin, sitting in the sofa. 

“Uh… I left some clothes for you on the bed. I don’t have underwear for you so… uh… you can keep the sweats. Your manager called and said that he arranged for someone to bring you a change of clothes in the morning. You can use my skincare, if you want…” He said, awkwardly.

“Thanks.” You replied.

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Hyunjin’s room, Milan, 2025, 3:45 a.m.

You changed into Hyunjin’s clothes and looked around his room. You spotted the skincare he told you about and smeared into your face; making sure you didn’t use too much. You looked your name up on social media and it seemed that people have caught up that you were, in fact, the person that arrived with Hyunjin. You sighed upon seeing people’s reactions. There were a lot of negative comments, usually about you but also about him. And you suddenly felt bad for him. Fans were asking to send protests to JYP premises against Hyunjin’s freedom to date or to interact with females. You felt guilty for asking to come into his room in the first place.

“Hey.” Hyunjin greeted, entering the room. 

“Hyunjin, I’m sorry for being a bitch and for getting us into this mess. I didn’t mean to.” You sobbed. “I know we don’t get along, but I didn’t want anything to happen to you… or me… or the companies.” Your tears kept running down your cheeks.

“Sheesh, don’t get soft on me just because you feel bad for me.” Hyunjin smirked, in attempts to calm you down. You just kept crying. “Y/N, princess, we’re in this together. You said it, we’re friends to the public so we probably won’t have too many repercussions.”

“Hyunjin, I fucked up so bad.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. We’re basically even friends after this. Shit will work itself out.”  He reassured. “We just need to have each other’s backs here. No fucking anyone up. We’ll own up to our mistakes and everything’ll go as planned. If this fucks things up, it’s fine. Whatever. We’ll keep going.”

You remained quiet.

“You’re really freaking annoying, I mean it…” He added, “but I’d rather be here with you than with anyone else. You’re savvy and things will be okay.”

“Ah… thanks for reassuring me, Hyunjin.” You smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m really grateful that you insisted that I left with you. I was too tipsy to reason at that moment.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want anything to happen to someone that I’m so strangely close to. Like, we’re not friends yet you’re my princess and we have a whole song coming out and a video. And we’ve designed campaigns together. It’s weird. I apologize too; I shouldn’t have screamed.” He chuckled. He sat on the bed beside you.

“I get it. You’re a dick but we’re basically, kind of, family…”

“Ew, no. We’re not siblings.”

“We don’t have to be siblings! I could be married to one of your siblings or something.”

“I’m an only child!” He corrected you. 

“Oh… me too.” You said. “Maybe I could marry one of your members, then.”

“Gross, no.”

“Well, we’re back to siblings again.” 

“Maybe you could be my ward, like Morgana.” He suggested.

“Morgana was supposed to marry Arthur, though. I think.” You countered.

“But… uh…okay. We’re engaged, then.” He joked. “But it’s an arranged marriage and we don’t get married in the end.”

“Fine by me, my betrothed.” You joked back. He laughed. “This is so stupid, my dearest princess. We’re so dumb.” He yawned.

“We are.” You agreed. “Truce? We’re friends now?” You extended your hand to him. He shook your hand in his, significantly bigger, hand. 

“Friends and pledged to be married, don’t forget.” He reminded. You pulled your hand away.

“How can I forget? You’re very obnoxious.”

“We just called a truce, c’mon.” 

“Sorry, force of habit.” You apologized. “So… can we sleep now?” He nodded. 

“I’ll take the couch.” He volunteered.

“No, don’t worry. I’ll take it.” You said as you stood up.

“Please, as if I’ll let my betrothed, fake or not, sleep in an uncomfortable floral deathbed.” He said. 

“Are you okay with sharing the bed, then, my prince?” You asked, he gulped.

“Y-yeah. But no funny business.” He smirked.

“Please. The bed’s big enough to fit your security guard in here with us. You won’t even notice I’m in the bed.”

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Hyunjin’s bed, Milan, 2025, 5:00 a.m.

You tossed and turned, being unable to sleep despite your body screaming for you to do so. You heard Hyunjin’s soft snores next to you, scooting closer to you with every passing minute until you could feel his warm breath against you. You were unable to turn because you’d be face to face with Hyunjin. You felt an arm snake over your waist, Hyunjin pulled himself closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. 

You stiffened upon feeling his touch. Your mind raced with questionings of how you despised and envied him the day before and now, you’re in his bed with Hyunjin cuddled up to you. His breath tickled your neck, making you feel goosebumps. When you started to relax into his touch, you felt a hardness press against your back, and you prayed that it was just Hyunjin’s knee. Until it throbbed. And your body stiffened once again. You knew it was normal for guys to get erections when they slept, but you definitely did not expect to feel Hyunjin’s erection pressed up against you any time soon. 

You shifted a bit to look at him. Hyunjin was, in fact, still asleep, his plump lips were parted, you scanned his face. You knew why Donatella and every other woman in this planet was obsessed with him. He was beautiful, a beauty for the ages. It was hard to deny that, especially when he was even prettier up close. Not many people look that effortlessly gorgeous without a silver of makeup on. The type of beauty you hoped to be. Still, you knew that you needed to be decorated to achieve it. 

Hyunjin stirred in his sleep, making you look forward again. You grabbed your phone from the night table and scrolled through your messages and emails. The reunion had already taken place, your manager updated you on a summary on the decisions they made. They would issue a notice about the situation, instead of having us talk to the press about it. He wrote that the situation would be taken care of before afternoon. And ended the text saying that he wants us to rest after such a stressful night. You dismissed the messages, relieved that they found a way to manage the situation. You didn’t mind if your reputation needed adjustments after the statement. You were just glad that things were handled. 

“Princess?” Hyunjin whispered, his voice was deeper and raspy.

“Yes?” 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, maintaining his sleeping position, cuddled next to you.

“Yeah. Just checking my messages. Our managers worked things out. They’re releasing a statement at noon.” You said. He buried his face into the back of your neck and sighed in relief.

You could still feel his boner pressing into you, but you tried to ignore it. However, when Hyunjin pressed his lips to the back of your neck, you couldn’t disregard it. You tensed up again.

“My bad, princess.” Hyunjin apologized. “You just smell really good; really comforting.” You shivered when you felt his breath as he spoke, the rasp of his voice rang in your ear.

“You’re just sleep deprived. Try to rest up.” You diverted.

“You know, I always imagined having you in my bed…” Oh. “Still, I didn’t think it would happen like this.”

“What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“I don’t know about you, but I think you’re magnetic, princess.” He explained. “You’re so quick-witted. That’s so hot.” O H. And, for the weird part, you were actually enjoying this. You felt goosebumps on your skin, you rubbed your thighs together in order to satiate the ache between your legs. “And… I think you feel similarly about me.” He pressed his bulge harder against your ass. You moaned at the feeling, quickly covering your mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re annoying.” You said as you turned to face him. He laid there, staring at you expectantly with an annoying smirk. Checkmate. You crashed your lips against his, harshly. 

“God, if you weren’t so hot. I think I’d hate you for real.” You said in between kisses. 

“We both know that’s not true.” He interrupted the kiss. “You’re equally attracted to my personality. Admit it.”

“Shut up.” You said. “You look better when you’re quiet.” You continued to kiss him. 

His plump lips against you made you feel electricity. He was a messy kisser, desperately biting your lip and dancing with your tongue. He moved his hands from your waist to your hips and up to your waist again. 

“Now, I’ve seen you staring at my tits before…” You teased. A light blush perked onto his cheek. “You can touch them.”

He took no time in obliging, hands groping at your mounds in a harsh manner. You smirked into the kiss when he moaned at the feeling of your soft breasts and hard nipples below the fabric of your shirt.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He moaned at the overstimulation of sensations he was experiencing. “Fuck. I’m so glad you got us into this mess.” 

He resumed making out with you, chaotically and intricate, just like him. His mouth was hot against yours, making you both moan at the friction of your lips moving together. Hyunjin shifted to be on top of you, and you were able to see his beautiful face, illuminated by the dim lamp. He took his shirt off, leaving his lean yet muscular torso visible to you. 

You took your time admiring him, and he seemed to enjoy the attention. His hands toyed with the hem of your shirt, silently asking to take it off. You indulged him, lifting up your arms so he was able to remove it from you. It was his turn to stare at you and you liked it too. 

Hyunjin suddenly dove in, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth; both of you moaning at the contact. He ground his hips against yours and you followed suit, in search for some friction where you needed him most. His teeth softy nibbled on your pebbled bud. You moaned at the feeling of Hyunjin’s teeth tugging at your sensitive nipple. He released your bud with a pop and didn’t even say a word before giving you other breast the same treatment. You moaned louder than you should have, the feeling of Hyunjin’s delicious lips on your breasts, the cool air against your wet nipple made you a whining mess. After an agonizingly long time, Hyunjin released your other nipple.

“Fuck. I could do that all day.” He groaned. “Will you let me suck your tits every time we see each other, my princess?” You nodded desperately, instantly taking a liking to his pet name for you. “I can’t wait to eat you out.” 

He trailed wet kisses down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants. He looked at you and you nodded in approval. Your sweats and underwear were quickly pulled down by Hyunjin’s expert hands. 

“You’re so wet, princess.” He teased your folds with two fingers. “I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you.”  You moaned when he inserted those two slender fingers inside of you, your damp folds sucked him in perfectly. He dragged his fingers in and out of you a few times before slipping them out. He licked your juices from his fingers.

“You taste heavenly, my princess.” He noted, lowering his head to be face your glistening folds. Hyunjin dove in as soon as he said that. 

Hyunjin ate you out like a starved man, like nobody had ever eaten you out before. He was messy yet cautious, he listened carefully to your reactions and rapidly identified what made you feel good. Hyunjin took long, slow licks through your folds, making sure to savor you, making sure that you moaned as loud as you could. Hearing your moans satisfied him like nothing else. Hyunjin sucked your clit, earning spasms from you. He teased your folds with his tongue and fingers and held your hand as you came around them with a prayer of his name.

“Your moans are making me ascend.” He said, “I think I’m addicted to you.” 

You could barely even speak; your emotions were running wild. You hadn’t felt raw pleasure in so long, your need to be in control didn’t allow you to let go like this.

“Let me take care of you, princess.” He asked, gesturing to his hard cock. You nodded.

“Y-yes, Hyunjin. Please. I want to make you feel good.” You moaned, as you reached to tug at his pajama bottoms. He stopped you.

“No, princess. I want to make you feel good.” He corrected. “This is about you.” 

You watched as Hyunjin lowered his bottoms and underwear simultaneously, staring in awe at the breathtaking sight in front of you. Hyunjin’s cock was impressive, more so than you expected. He was long and girthy in an ideal way, one that wouldn’t hurt when he entered you. His cock was veiny, dripping a more-than-generous amount of precum. He spread the pre-cum through his shaft and pumped his cock a few times. He grabbed a condom from his bag to which you shook your head.

“Can I go in?” He asked once his cock was coated with precum. 

“Of course, my prince.” You begged. “Please. I need you inside me.”

“How could I ever make you wait, then?” He asked, rhetorically, as he lined up with your entrance. 

Your folds welcomed him, your wetness engulfed his cock so sweetly; despite that, he was still a stretch. Hyunjin went in slow, moaning as he bottomed inside you. You clenched around him impatiently, needing to feel some friction. His lips found yours again after what seemed like ages, more desperately than before. You could still taste yourself on his mouth and all he wanted to consume was you. He needed to feel you in every way possible, just as much as you needed to feel him. You kept clenching around him because he still hadn’t moved. 

“Hyune, please move. I want to feel you.” You cried. 

“Fuck, are you always this impatient?” He moaned as he thrusted in and out of you. You shook your head, barely even registering what he said. “Am I the only one that makes you this desperate, princess?”

You moaned at his words, feeling filthy for even being in this position in the first place. He kept a slow pace, groaning lowly every time he bottomed out, face buried in your chest. Hyunjin sat up and helped you put your leg up to his shoulder; making you feel every vein of his cock inside of you. You both moaned at the new feeling of him being impossibly deeper inside of you. Your bodies connecting like they hadn’t connected before. Even Hyunjin didn’t have any snarky comment to make about how that felt. Your moans grew more uncontrollable with each erratic thrust he made. 

Hyunjin took his time to make you feel good, his thrusts were sultry and calculated one moment and harsh and erratic the next, always attentive to how you reacted. His hand sneaked between your bodies to rub soft circles on your clit. You moaned at the contact, begging him for more friction. He lowered your legs, and you wrapped them around his waist. His thrusts grew sloppy once your moaning increased, louder than he ever expected.

“I should have done this a while ago, huh?” He remarked while panting. His warm fingers felt glorious against your swollen bud. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone a comeback for him.

“Fuck.” You let out after a particularly deep thrust, that made your insides flutter. “Hyune, I’m going to cum.”

“Are you going to cum around me, princess?” He groaned, speeding up his thrusts. 

“Y-yes.” Was the last word you let out before you came. 

Your orgasm took over you in the form of a spasm, you clenched your cunt and simultaneously tightened your legs’ grip on Hyunjin’s waist. Hyunjin came right after you with a guttural moan of your name. Not even being able to pull out before he was shooting warm, thick spurts of cum inside of your cunt. You knew that you shouldn’t have had sex without a condom, and it was even more dumb of you to let Hyunjin come inside. But, in the moment, you weren’t really reasoning.

“Fuck, princess.” Hyunjin panted. He kissed your lips and looked down to your cunt. He stared at it in awe. “My cum looks so good inside of you.” He dragged his fingers through your wet folds. “Fuck. I think I might be in love with you.” He mumbled that last part before kissing you again and collapsing next to you. 

You shifted to your side to stare at his beautiful features, so real and so raw next to you. He caressed your hand that laid on his stomach and sweetly placed a kiss on top of your head. 

“Sorry for cumming inside. This is really not like me…” He said, reaching for some wipes on the night table. 

“It’s okay. I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want you to…” You reassured, flinching as Hyunjin wiped your cunt with the cold, wet wipe. He smiled at you and placed a kiss on your overstimulated, clean cunt.

“I liked this.” He said, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I mean… ugh… I like us getting along instead of fighting.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d much rather do this than argue with you.” You chuckled.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, my princess.” He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it. 

“Crazy to think that we didn’t come here to have sex, and we still did.” He laughed, wrapping a protective arm around you, snuggling his face into your neck.

“Fate has some weird shit going on.” You replied. “If this hadn’t happened, we’d be eating breakfast and arguing over who’s Donatella’s favorite monarch.” He laughed.

“I’m just glad that it happened.” He spoke. “Can…we do this more often?”

“Like, having sex… or are you asking me out?” You inquired. 

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Sure, then.”

“To which one?” He asked.

“To either.” You answered.

“Just to be clear, I’ve always wanted to get to know you. I’m not asking you out just because we had sex.” He clarified, staring into your eyes. You kissed him.

“Let’s see how things go, my prince.” You replied, cuddling up to him, basking in his warmth next to you.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・☆.。.:・°

Korea, 2025, 10:00 a.m.

“Breaking news: Versace Prince and Princess caught in a scandal! Hyunjin and Y/N were seen entering Hyunjin’s hotel after the Versace Fashion Week Afterparty last weekend.  More interestingly, the couple were seen eating lunch the morning after. The pair were also spotted yesterday holding hands at a café near the idol’s workspace, right after their companies denied any romantic involvement between the two of them. Talk about relationship goals! We wish the Versace monarchs a life full of love and we cannot wait for their next move!” You read, snickering at the article’s writing. Hyunjin laughed.

“We’re in so much trouble, huh, princess?”

“Who cares?” You replied placing a kiss on his cheek, making him chuckle.

You received a call from your manager.

“I don’t know if you’re with Hwang or not but ratings on your songs are through the roof now! Keep it going!” He said excitedly. You chuckled.

Oh, how the tables have turned for everyone’s favorite monarchs. 

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・ Copyright Ⓒ 2025 by deadpanjisung All rights reserved. ☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・