#lyrics from Head Up by the score

[roseverdict]

it is 4 AM which means it's Desperately Claw At Hobbies In An Attempt To Make Some Form Of Money To Set Aside So I Can Go Be An Adult Instead Of The Parentals' Puppet time!

[neos127]

enhypen x fem!reader | brought the heat back

genre. toxic enha! established relationship + hcs cw. the boys are pretty toxic & manipulative notes. obv this isn’t how i believe they act irl! i was just inspired by bthb lyrics

heeseung . . . ‘why is he looking at you like that’, heeseung thought as the two of you were sitting in a cafe. to say he was a jealous person was an understatement— heeseung was very possessive. you were his and his only, why couldn’t people understand that.

“hee, calm down.” you mumbled, noticing the way he gripped the small coffee cup, the drink spilling onto his hand. heeseung sighed, letting you clean him up. as soon as you discarded the coffee covered wet wipe, heeseung immediately pulled you to his side, making you sit against him in the booth.

“heeseung…” you warned the boy, feeling his lips trace your neck. the man who had been looking at you prior looked away in embarrassment. you never really favored pda, but your possessive boyfriend certainly did.

“tell me that you’re mine. mine only.” he muttered in between kisses, causing you to blush furiously. you let out a nervous giggle before turning your head to meet heeseung’s eyes.

“i’m yours, always.”

jay . . . you were positive that jay’s arms hadn’t left your waist since you arrived at the party. whenever you two stood in a group, jay would stand behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder/head. any time a guy even glance at you, his grip would tighten. you had to stop jay from getting into a fight when a guy had approached you, trying to get you into one of the spare rooms.

jay had thrown his beer into the guy’s face, about to swing at his face before you pulled him away.

“jay…i was okay. i can handle myself.” you sighed as the two of you sat on the front lawn, waiting for his best friend to pick you both up.

“i know but, you’re my girl. they don’t even deserve to have the pleasure of looking at you.” jay muttered, his jaw clenching. you let out a curt laugh before reaching over and messing with his hair.

“and i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you replied, leaning over to kiss him.

jake . . . your boyfriend was acting like a child, and you weren’t too pleased about it.

“get off the phone.” he murmured against your ear before continuing his assault on your neck. you were positive that jake had left a couple hickeys on your skin already. he had been sucking on your neck and running his tongue over the marks constantly since you started your project. you were working on it with a male classmate and jake didn’t like that.

jake’s kisses only increased the more you ignored him, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting under your bra. you let out a soft moan, freezing when you realized that you were still on call.

“y/n, you okay?” your project partner, heeseung spoke up. before you could even get a word in, jake spoke up for you.

“she’s busy.” jake sneered before pressing the red ‘end call’ button on your phone. you turned to face the man, about to sold him but jake didn’t care. he interrupted you with a kiss, already lifting you out of your seat and towards your bed.

“it’s my turn to have your attention.”

sunghoon . . . you had never seen sunghoon so angry before, it was honestly worrying. you knew that your boyfriend was the jealous type, and his emotions were only heightened whenever he had a game. a member on the opposing team made a score, winking and making some crude remarks towards you. sunghoon already hated him, especially since he always seemed to hit on you.

your boyfriend was already pissed off so he absolutely lost it, throwing his helmet on the ice and roughly spitting out his mouth guard before slamming the guy against the wall of the rink. you didn’t pick up much of what sunghoon said, only a couple of curses here and there. the guy pushed sunghoon off which resulted in him swinging at his face. you gasped and stood up, watching as sunghoon was pulled away by his teammates.

he ended up receiving a red card and was chewed out by his coach before he stomped to the locker room. you followed after him, wanting to comfort your boyfriend who was obviously fired up.

“sunghoon! what the hell was that?” you called after him, nearly getting hit by the door on your way into the locker room.

“that dickwad is a piece of shit. i can’t stand him. especially when he thinks that he can just look at you without me wanting to pull his teeth out.” sunghoon snarled, his voice still raised as he paced around.

you frowned, putting a hand on his chest to try to calm him down. he stopped, taking a deep breath before placing his hand over yours and leaning against the lockers.

“you’re mine only. i can’t let other guys talk about you like that.” sunghoon said, leaning over to rest his forehead against yours. you smiled, finding his possessiveness to be a bit attractive. even though it got him benched for the next few games.

“don’t worry, i don’t accept attention from any other guy but you.” you whispered, running your thumb on his bottom lip.

sunoo . . . “who was that guy you spoke to earlier.” sunoo asked, cornering you in the kitchen one night. you jumped a bit at his presence, not expecting your boyfriend to still be up as you grabbed a glass of water.

“just a friend.” you replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. to sunoo it was a big deal. he couldn’t stand the attention you would get from men, it made him extremely envious when you decided to be nice and engage.

“why were you smiling at him like that?” sunoo asked, his tone extremely calm but his gaze was hard and set on you.

“sunoo, he didn’t mean anything to me.” you replied, placing the glass down and walking over to sunoo. you rested your hands on either side of his face, giving him a reassuring smile. you knew how jealous your boyfriend could get, especially when it came to guys giving you their attention. if a guy happened to look at you for a second too long, sunoo felt like snapping their neck.

“he better not.” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss.

jungwon . . . was it unfair of jungwon to rip you away from a lunch with your friend? possibly. but the friend was a guy, a guy who wasn’t your loving boyfriend. he couldn’t have your attention stolen by sim jaeyun when he was simply sitting at home bored out of his mind. so, jungwon called you up, pretending to sound sick so you would come to his apartment. he knew that he was your weakness, you would do anything for your precious jungwon.

so you excused yourself from lunch and raced to jungwon’s apartment, worried about your boyfriend. jungwon laid on his bed, putting a frown on his face as he explained that his ‘stomach ache’ was debilitating. you cooed at the boy, softly running your hands through his hair.

jungwon sighed, fighting back a small smirk. he finally had you to himself again…he was in heaven.

riki . . . the boy was fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched a store clerk clearly flirt with you. he had been watching the guy ever since you two walked into the store, the punk had been waiting for a chance to get you alone.

“i was wondering if i could get your number?” the guy asked, pulling his phone out. you froze, feeling awkward already. you were about to tell him that you had a boyfriend before you felt a presence behind you.

riki towered over you, his height seeming to intimidate the store clerk in front of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist possessively, resting his head on top of yours.

“she’s taken.” riki said curtly, his eyes darkening as he stared down the guy in front of you. he nodded, quickly walking away without another word.

“riki…” you giggled, turning around to face your boyfriend who looked extremely pissed. riki had always been a jealous boyfriend and it was amusing to see how he subtly staked his claim over you.

“these idiots don’t deserve an ounce of your attention.” he grumbled, keeping an arm around your waist as he pulled you out of the store. you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“riki, where are we going? i want my snacks.”

“a different store without that asshole.”

[hearts4renaa]

SO HIGHSCHOOL ~

summary: all the corny, cute, romcom type things you guys do that makes everyone at NRC swoon. featuring the dorm leaders. contains: 1.4k words in total of fluff fluff and more fluff. gn reader, one of the lyrics i reference uses "her" but that's it. a/n: inspired by 'so high school' by taylor swift! i might make this into a series.... lololol we'll see! please enjoyy

“’Cause I feel so high school, every time I look at you ~”

“You knew what you wanted, and boy, you got her ~”

Riddle went above and beyond while courting you, giving you flowers, remembering and celebrating basically every important date, and eventually officially asking you to be his.

You giggle and almost coo when you open your locker to yet another small bundle of roses. You gently grab the small bouquet, letting yourself relish in both the floral scent and the affection you feel by this gesture. Ace and Deuce groan from besides you, already knowing who they’re from. “Geez, that guy and his roses, hey?” Ace comments. “That’s the third one within the past four weeks!”

You shush Ace playfully, your fingers trailing over the little paper tag attached to the ribbon. Your brain recognizes the penmanship almost immediately, for this handwriting has expressed numerous words of love towards you countless times before. Your heart flutters as your eyes scan the paper.

I love you forever, dearest.

“Truth, dare, spin bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle ~”

You go to all of Leona’s Spelldrive games! you show up in Savanaclaw colors, your hair styled like his, and the biggest smile on earth.

“And look at that!” the Spelldrive announcer exclaims. “Yet another goal from Savanaclaw’s very own Housewarden,” The camera captures Leona’s signature smirk as he high fives a nearby teammate, high off the adrenaline of the game. “He’s playing well tonight,” The announcer speaks. “And I think we all know why!”

The camera pans to your absolutely shining face, cheering from the stands with crinkled eyes and hands clapping. Leona pauses for a moment to look at you, his eyes locating you almost immediately. “I love you, you’re doing great!” You mouth to him in pure excitement. Leona cracks a small smile before getting his head back in the game. He scored six more times that night.

“Get my car door, isn’t that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat ~”

Azul gives you total gentleman treatment! You haven’t opened a door in ages and you completely forgot what carrying a bag feels like.

“Thanks for tonight, Azul.” You smile at him as the two of you begin to approach the entrance of the Ramshackle dorm building. “I had a great time, as always. You didn’t have to walk me home, again, though.” You chuckle lightly. Azul gives a small smirk back, but his eyes gleam at your comments. His hand squeeze yours just a little tighter, and a faint blush starts to creep up his face.

“I’m glad,” He says softly. “And you know I’d do almost anything to spend more time with you.” Your front door comes fully into view and you feel as if it’s ending all too fast. Despite how many dates you’ve gone on, the rush of being out with Azul is something you’ll never get fully used to. He always leaves you craving him and his company. The two of you come to a still at your porch, and he turns to face you. He whispers your name, bringing your hand to his mouth and lightly kissing your knuckles. You swear that no fairytale prince could ever compete against him.

“I’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night ~”

You’re the first person Kalim looks at when he tells a joke. Taking you to his family home proved that he was absolutely serious about you, and it’s so evident that his siblings can see how much he loves you too.

The group of younger siblings burst into another fit of laughter at Kalim’s joke, as if they had never heard anything funnier in their lives. “Again, Kalim,” One of his brothers tugs on his sleeve. “Tell another one!”

While Kalim’s jokes were inevitably corny, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as well. The smiles of the little children were infectious, their energy fueling your own joy. Kalim tells another joke, but his eyes weren’t focused on his siblings’ reactions. No, he wasn’t even looking at their faces at all. His eyes automatically find your figure with each joke he tells, and he feels his heart swell each time you laugh. With your head thrown back and your eyes wrinkled with giggles, he’s never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It’s just a game, but really, I’m betting on all three, for us two ~”

Vil likes to mention you in his interviews, and he does it almost unconsciously. Questions about his romantic life are inevitable with someone of his level of fame, but he handles each one with grace.

The studio lights would be blinding for most, but Vil’s been in this industry for so long that he’s gotten used to it. The questions from the interview have been rapid fire, and Vil responds to each one with a graceful, almost calculated response. He’s been running on autopilot the entire morning; well, until your name gets brought up.

“Now, I just have to ask,” The interviewer crosses her legs and leans in towards Vil, as if he was telling her a secret. “Kiss, marry, kill: Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and your partner, Y/N?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment before answering the question. “I wouldn’t kill any of them,” Vil responds with a small smirk. Kissing you is as easy as breathing to him, and the idea of marrying you sends a chill down his spine. He loves you like he was made for it, and his devotion shines like a glittering gem. Vil continues his response. “But the first two options are reserved for Y/N and Y/N only.”

“Brand new, full throttle. Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto ~”

Idia likes to have some sort of physical contact with you at all times. At first, he was really jumpy, but your touch has become a comfort to him.

You hum as you lean onto Idia, your head resting on his shoulder. The lights in his room are dim, save for the bright TV near the edge of his bed. Your left arm is linked with his right one and you nuzzle your cheek into the fabric of his sweater. The clicking sounds of Idia’s controller lull you into a drowsy state, the late hours starting to hit you.

Idia looks away from his game to gaze at your sleepy figure, and he feels his cheeks start to heat up. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve done this, but the intimacy of it all still brings a warm, fuzzy feeling into his chest. The idea that the two of you could simply link arms, sit in silence, and do your own things and be content astounds him just a little bit; He thought you would’ve gotten bored. Your affection for each other runs much deeper, but you can feel all of it in the form of linked arms.

“No one’s ever had me, not like you ~”

What’s there that Malleus doesn’t do for you? But seriously, one of his favorite things to do with you is stargaze at nighttime, where his affection for you is at an all time high.

The night air is soothing as the chill creeps up your skin, keeping you awake. Malleus sits next to you, his presence being a comfort. The moon is bright tonight, the field quiet, with the occasional chirp from the nearby birds. The stars in the sky create a masterpiece of little lights, and Malleus can’t help but stare at you like you’re a work of art.

Malleus rubs his thumb into the flesh of your hand, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. He feels the sudden need to ask a question that’s been weighing on him for a little while. His voice rings in your ears.

“You truly don’t fear me?”

You giggle lightly, letting go of his hand and turning to fully face him. Your fingers brush past his cheeks, cupping them gently and bringing your foreheads together. “I could never,” You whisper, smiling brightly. “Not when you love me so deeply.” His heart swells with affection. You open your mouth to continue, but his lips crash against yours before you can get another word out.

[xo-adeline]

"To change for you..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Things the Blue Lock boys do after picking it up from you Feat. Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, and Rin Itoshi

AN: I have the freaking cutest idea for a Wakasuki fanfic but nobody knows him and it's so sad...

Michael Kaiser ⋆°• ☁︎ - Listening to certain songs that he knows you like when he’s traveling

He never realized that he would have missed you this much when he was traveling. For the few months that he was still back in Germany with you, the thoughts of traveling had crossed his mind many times, and with a scoff and the thoughts that he used to do it alone all the time pushed the ideas to the back of his brain, well until now; Now when he was sitting on the Bastard München bus on the way to the PXG stadium for their next match, the long, almost 14-hour, bus ride they had, and every second since he had been on that bus, he missed you. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, including you. So what better way than to either A. attempt to text you, But that sounded desperate, or B. do something that reminded him of you. And with his limited options, he scrolled his phone to find something that could bring him back to the thought of you, even if you weren’t there with him. To which that’s when he found it. A couple of weeks ago you had stolen his phone, saying that you were just looking at the weather, but rather, you knew he had a Spotify account and only listened to the songs he wanted to, so you put together a playlist for him of some songs you think he should listen to, including some of your favorites. He couldn’t help but give a little smile when he saw the playlist cover being a picture of the two of you at one of his previous games, and within no time he pressed the play button and started to listen through the songs, thoughts of you running through his head matching up with every song lyric.

Isagi Yoichi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Using more creative insults on the field after you used them against him

It all started a couple weeks after you had started dating and you got into a little spat about where to go for dinner, him trying to be nice and let you decide and you being indecisive and pushing it back on him. All going relatively nicely until you turned around and said:

“You decide, you wet noodle! I can’t pick.”

And he stood there for a second, a little surprised. A wet noodle? That wasn’t something you heard every day. So he let out a slight chuckled and picked a place he knew you would like and the two of you went there for dinner that night. The same thing with a couple other insults had happened a few times, being called a multitude of other things, and even hearing you’d snide comments sometimes about how you hoped that a person that cut you off in traffic ‘stepped into a puddle with only socks on.’

Now with these thoughts inside his head, and Barou running his mouth he could only turn towards him and give a dirty glare before pulling this out of his pocket:

“I hope you’re sleeves slide down while you’re washing your hands.”

Before turning back around and heading anywhere else in the building where he wasn’t. To which the rest of the people standing there could only look surprised, the same guy who called Barou much worse, just wished a minor inconvenience on him? What was happening?

Nagi Seishiro ⋆°• ☁︎ - Showing a little more effort rather than just in scoring goals

Reo could only look confused at the white-haired man as he was actually trying on some of the new training regiments given to them by Chris Prince. Even when he looked over to the coach, he looked a little shocked. It wasn’t that Nagi didn’t try, it’s that he had never tried this hard before. He did everything just enough for it to be acceptable and then move on with his life, well that was until he saw how hard you worked for things. He never understood why people worked hard until you had come home with a good grade on your test, the same test he had watched you work for hours and hours trying to study the material and cram into your head before you had to take it. The way that you smiled and were so excited that the work you did paid off gave him this spark of inspiration that he needed to see what it was like to train hard and then have that achievement pay off in the end. So when he went back to practice, he tried harder than he ever did before, even earning a couple comments asking if he was okay, or if he was dying and trying a little harder was his dying wish. All of which he responded a simple ‘no’ to before walking off to get water or work on something else. The only person who could actually figure out the truth was Reo, who had asked him if it had something to do with you. He just shrugged and nodded.

“They came home all happy one time because they studied hard and got a good grade and I wanted to know what that felt like… They clung onto me for a whole 15 minutes after… and I liked it so maybe If I do good I can do that to them..”

Reo could only laugh a little as he watched Nagi walk away. He would definitely have to send you a thank you card, Chris Prince’s signature in there as well as he had tried to ask Nagi the same question and it totally backfired.

Shidou Ryusei ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to settle arguments with words instead of his foot

The famous fighter, Shidou Ryusei, was actually trying to have a conversation. Nobody ever thought there would be a day. Well, except for one person, you. The same person who had told him off a multitude of times that he can’t just hurt people whenever he was pissed off at them, and there were much better ways to go about it. Even after days of him trying to get you to see his side of it, and you already, after hearing his explanation a few weeks ago, deeming it not the best way to settle things. So here he was now, putting his ego aside to make sure that Loki or Ego didn’t have to call you for the 4th time this week to try to get him to behave and attempt to try to not kick Rin square in the face after he stole a goal from him. Even Loki was surprised when Shidou was about to raise his foot, just to stop himself, mutter something, and then turn to Rin, attempting to try and talk it out. The first thought in everybody's mind, was this even Shidou? After Rin had walked away from him Loki came jogging over to him and trying to make sure he was okay.

“Ya’ I’m fine, jus’ the pretty thing back home ya’ always have to call told me to get my shit together, so I’m tryin’ talk it out with lower lashes.”

Loki looked surprised, I mean he knew from talking to you before that you were close with Shidou, but little did he know that you basically had the man wrapped around you’re finger. They’ve been trying to get him to talk something out for the entire time he was in Blue Lock, but he leaves for a few days and comes back a whole new person? The staff would be sending you thank you cards, as well as a small gift instead of having to pay the hospital bills from anybody else Shidou would’ve sent.

Rin Itoshi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to be a little nicer to others

The world must have stopped turning and we were all gonna die. That was the only thing Isagi could think after he heard Rin actually complimenting somebody. Was it a backhanded compliment? Absolutely, but did he still say something nice to Nanase, yes. Isagi could only stare in shock as he walked over to him next, ready to be degraded or ignored for anything he did, until Rin stopped, cursing under his breath.

“You’re a shitty person, but at least you can score a decent goal..”

The world stopped, he was sure of it. There was no way the Rin Itoshi, had just come up to him and told him he could score a decent goal. So when he stood there a little confused Rin couldn’t help but curse a little more.

“This isn’t because I like you. It’s because I like my partner. Got it?”

And with that he headed off again, going who knows where.

Thought he didn’t learn the fully story until much later on when Shidou had been talking about it Charles and he had overheard. Apparently, Rin’s partner had been pretty upset when they realized that he was pretty mean overall, and wanted him to at least attempt being nicer, so the next time he saw somebody he knew he at least tried to give them a compliment, just attempting to make his partner a little less upset with him.

Isagi knew that it was just a little thing, but lord, he was sure that if Rin would go around complimenting other people, if you asked for the world to burn, he would set it on fire just so you wouldn’t be upset.

[hoshifighting]

Crush on Music Student Jihoon

"So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?"

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me..."

— Synopsis: Where you have a little crush on the music student Jihoon. He definitively is not like the jocks from the campus, his quiet demeanor between his loud friends, calls your attention, and your friends tell you to let go of this crush once and for all. But Jihoon shows up to show you that your admiration for him was worth it. — WC: 5.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, dirty talk, praising, overwhelming, fingering, blowjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, public kiss, their friends having a heart-attack when they kiss, tears and sobs of pleasure, g'spot stimulation and etc.

So, here you are, finally in college. No more high school drama, no more teachers breathing down your neck, and no more petty cliques. It's like a whole new world, and you're loving every minute of it.

College is different. People here have their own inspirations, their own goals, and their own quirks. It's refreshing to be surrounded by so much diversity. You feel more mature than ever, like you're finally coming into your own.

But then there's Jihoon. Your friends won't let you forget about him. He's a music student, from the same campus, and apparently, he's got you feeling all sorts of things. They tease you mercilessly, saying you're acting like a girl in high school with a crush.

"Ah, Jihoon. He's always been the quiet type…" They say. You've noticed it too. While his friends are loud and outgoing, he's content to stay in the background, quietly observing the world around him. It's one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

But your friends don't seem to understand. They keep trying to push you towards guys like Dokyeom or Seungkwan, who are the complete opposite of Jihoon. Dokyeom, with his extroverted personality and vibrant energy, always seems to be the life of the party. And Seungkwan, well, he's practically a celebrity on campus with his charm and athleticism.

But as much as you appreciate their efforts, your heart just isn't in it. While your friends are off drooling over Mingyu at the football games, you prefer to sit quietly in the back of the university theater, listening to the sweet sounds that emanate from Jihoon's fingers as he plays guitar or piano.

You're sitting with your friends at lunch, trying to enjoy your meal while Jihoon's group of friends acts loud and rowdy as usual. Jihoon himself is sitting nearby, quietly changing papers, which you assume are lyrics for his music.

"So, when are you going to talk to him?" Hyeson asks, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. "I don't know, maybe when I feel like it," you reply nonchalantly, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Your other friend, Seungjun, chimes in, "Come on, you've been crushing on him forever. He's probably too shy to come and ask you out. Or maybe he's too busy burying his face in those ridiculous scores."

ou shrug, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just enjoy his music, that's all."

But your friends aren't buying it. They exchange knowing looks before turning back to you with raised eyebrows.

"Come on, you can't deny that there's something there," Hyeson says, leaning in closer. "Why don't you just go talk to him? What's the worst that could happen?"

You hesitate, chewing on your lip as you consider the idea. "I don't know... What if he thinks I'm weird or something?"

Your friend rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You've practically had the whole college eating out of the palm of your hand since you started to study here."

You feel a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck as she lays it all out there. "I don't know if I'd say that..."

But she cuts you off before you can finish. "Come on, Y/n. Let's be real here. You've practically dismissed every other guy in this place because you only have eyes for Jihoon. And you're worried about him thinking you're weird?"

The conversation about Jihoon continues to flow at the table, with your friend passionately expressing her opinions. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mingyu approaching. Your friend doesn't seem to notice, her mouth still going a mile a minute about Jihoon.

Quickly, you reach out and wrap a hand around her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. She widens her eyes in surprise, shooting you a confused look as Mingyu stands next to your table, likely coming over to talk to you all.

Mingyu starts talking about the upcoming football game this night, mentioning that there's going to be a frat party afterward. Your friend's ears perk up at the mention of Jihoon, and she can't help but blurt out, "Is Jihoon going to be there?"

Mingyu furrows his brow in confusion, glancing over at Jihoon who is still engrossed in his papers at the other table. "I don't know," he replies honestly. "It's been a long time since he appeared at one of our parties."

But then Mingyu's gaze returns to your friend, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Wait, why do you ask? Does someone here have a crush on Jihoon?" he asks, his voice a little too loud for comfort.

You widen your eyes in alarm, shooting a panicked glance at Jihoon and his friends who are now looking over at your table, clearly intrigued by the mention of Jihoon's name.

Your friend's eyes widen in shock, realizing that his question may have been a little too loud. "Um, well..." she stammers, searching for an excuse.

But before she can come up with anything, Mingyu's gaze returns to Jihoon's table, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone has some explaining to do," he says, loud enough for Jihoon to hear.

"Oh my god, I fucking hate y'all…" 

[...]

As you make your way to the promised frat party tonight, your friend nudges you gently and says, "Come on, Y/n-nie, don't be mad at us. We're just having some fun."

You shoot her a playful glare before sighing and shaking your head. "I know, I know. I'm not really mad. Just a little nervous, that's all."

But your other friend chimes in, unable to resist poking fun at the situation. "Seriously, though, I still don't understand why you like him that much. He doesn't even look like he fucks."

You roll your eyes at her crude remark, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. Brushing away the thought of your recent fantasies about Jihoon, you try to play it off coolly. "Oh, please. You don't know anything about him."

But deep down, you can't deny the truth in her words. Jihoon may seem shy and reserved on the surface, but there's a fire burning beneath that quiet exterior. And just the thought of him touching you, of him fucking you, sends a shiver down your spine.

How is Jihoon's cock? Could he really fuck you like you've been fantasizing about? The image of him moaning beautifully as he sings, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings of his guitar, sends a wave of desire crashing over you.

You squeeze your legs tight together, trying to ignore the pulsing ache between them as you continue towards the party. Each step brings you closer to the possibility of seeing Jihoon again, of finally making your move.

But as you approach the frat house, the thumping bass of the music growing louder with each passing second, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind. Your friend's little black dress that she lent you, hugs your curves in all the right places, a departure from your usual style, but you can't deny that it looks amazing on you.

She had insisted that Jihoon would love it, teasing you about your "Jihonnie" and the potential for a romantic encounter tonight. You couldn't help but laugh at her antics, secretly hoping that she might be right.

But as you glance around the crowded place, your heart sinks a little. Jihoon is nowhere to be seen. You try to push down the disappointment, reminding yourself that there are plenty of other people to talk to and enjoy the party with.

You lean against the bar, swirling your punch in your hand as you chat with your friend. Her eyes suddenly light up, and she says something that makes you furrow your brow in confusion. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Mingyu walking towards you, with Jihoon by his side.

Jihoon walks with his hands in his pockets, his black shirt hugging his muscular arms perfectly, while his hair falls in his face in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. Your friend takes the hint and excuses herself, leaving you alone with the boys.

Mingyu gives you a sly grin and nudges Jihoon in your direction. "Go on, hyung," he says encouragingly. "You've been wanting to talk to her all day."

Jihoon's cheeks turn a faint shade of red as he leans against the bar with a sheepish smile. "Uh, hey," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the music. "Mind if I join you?"

You feel a rush of excitement as Jihoon starts a conversation, his shy demeanor only adding to his charm. "Of course," you reply with a smile, motioning for him to take a seat next to you.

As the conversation continues to flow between you and Jihoon, you find yourselves laughing and exchanging stories about your time at college. You're pleasantly surprised by how easy it is to talk to him, and before you know it, hours have flown by.

Suddenly, Jihoon pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eyes. "So, I couldn't help but overhear something at lunch today," he says, his voice tinged with amusement.

Your heart skips a beat as you try to recall what you might have said that caught his attention. "Oh? What did you hear?" you ask, feigning innocence as you take a sip of your punch.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, it sounded like someone might have been talking about me," he admits, his eyes meeting yours with a shy smile.

You can't help but scoff at his comment, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. "You mean Mingyu mentioning your name out loud?" you reply, trying to play it off coolly.

Jihoon laughs and nods, his smile widening. "Yeah" he says with a nod. "I guess I've been on your friends' minds lately."

You chuckle, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you at the thought of Jihoon overhearing your friends teasing you about your crush on him. "Yeah, sorry about that," you say sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. "My friends can be a little... outspoken."

But Jihoon just shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. It's actually kind of flattering," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. "And to be honest, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now."

Your heart skips a beat at Jihoon's confession, and you feel a rush of excitement as you muster up the courage to admit your own feelings. "Yeah, I've been wanting it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon's face lights up with a genuine smile, and he leans in closer, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Oh yeah? What have you been wanting to talk to me about?" he asks eagerly.

You feel a pang of panic shoot through you as you realize you hadn't prepared an answer to that question. You stutter for a moment, trying to come up with something to say.

Finally, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Um, your music project! It sounds awesome," you say, mentally kicking yourself for not being more prepared.

You can tell by the look on his face that he knows there's more to it than just his music project. And as the silence stretches between you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle over you.

"I was expecting something else," Jihoon says with a small, teasing smirk, his voice laced with mock disappointment.

A strange tension hangs in the air between you, and you can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You wish you had been more honest with him, you can't help but wonder if this awkward moment has ruined your chance with him. With a heavy sigh, you take a sip of your drink.

You feel the unease settling in, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as you realize the gravity of the situation. Are you really going to lose this chance? Are you really going to ruin this opportunity?

Hell no.

Your hand clenches around the red cup with more force as you weigh your options. Taking a deep breath, you muster up the courage to speak, determined not to let this moment slip away.

"That's not what I meant," you say, meeting Jihoon's curious gaze with determination.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

"No, I mean, your songs are really awesome," you clarify. "But I have one more thing to say."

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his ear as you whisper softly, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Before Jihoon can react, you close the gap between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. The world fades away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, your bodies pressed together in an electrifying embrace.

Jihoon responds eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matches your own. In that moment, there's no awkwardness, no tension, only the undeniable chemistry between you and Jihoon igniting into something fiery and intoxicating.

You break the kiss, your lips still tingling with the remnants of his touch, feeling flushed, satisfied, and breathless. A sweet taste lingers on your palate as you lean against Jihoon's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Jihoon's breath is ragged as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of desire and adoration. "Let's get out of here," he says softly, his voice husky with emotion. "Before our friends have a heart attack."

You glance over at Mingyu and your friends, who are practically collapsing with shock after witnessing your kiss. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Jihoon's hand intertwining with yours brings you back to the present moment.

You nod in agreement, grateful for his quick thinking, and allow him to lead you away from the crowded room. As you step outside into the cool night air, a sense of freedom washes over you, and you find yourself smiling up at Jihoon.

"Sorry about that," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice as you squeeze his hand. "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

Jihoon just chuckles softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "No need to apologize," he murmurs, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'm just glad I finally got to kiss you."

"You should have kissed me before," you tease, nudging Jihoon playfully as you walk together across the campus, heading towards the dorms.

Jihoon chuckles, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. "Oh, really? And risk giving our friends a heart attack sooner?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes at his response, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fair point," you concede, leaning into his side as you continue to walk. "But you could have at least hinted that you wanted to kiss me earlier."

Jihoon's smile softens, his gaze turning tender as he looks down at you. "Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were the one making all the moves," he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your hip.

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, swatting at his arm playfully. "Hey, I can't do all the work," you retort, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's about time you stepped up your game."

Jihoon chuckles, leaning in closer to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "Well, consider this me stepping up," he says, his voice low and husky as he pulls back to meet your gaze. "And trust me, I have plenty more where that came from."

As you and Jihoon approach his dorm, the air is charged with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, filled with laughter and teasing banter as you navigate the familiar paths of the campus.

"So, you're telling me that you're going to make up for lost time?" you ask with a playful smirk, nudging Jihoon's side as you walk.

Jihoon chuckles, his eyes glinting mischievously as he glances over at you. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you reach his dorm door, Jihoon suddenly stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a wicked grin. Before you can react, he slams you against the door with a sudden force, his hands grabbing your ass firmly as he leans in to kiss your neck.

A gasp escapes your lips as his lips trail along your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel his warmth radiating against you, his strong arms holding you tightly as you cling to him, your hands gripping his biceps desperately.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon grabs the door handle and swings it open, pulling you into his room with him. The moment you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, and you find yourselves enveloped in darkness, save for the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Unable to detach your bodies from each other, you stumble forward, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. Jihoon's hands roam freely over your body, igniting sparks of desire with each touch, while your own hands explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath his shirt.

Jihoon's eyes search yours, filled with desire. "Tell me," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow in confusion for a moment before he repeats himself, his tone more insistent this time. "I want you to tell me, with words."

You feel a thrill run through you at his words, and you hold onto him tighter, your lips still brushing against each other as you melt into his embrace.

For a moment, you're lost in the sensation of being so close to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to find the right words to express how you feel.

And then, before you can respond, Jihoon speaks again, his voice teasing and playful. "Come on, Y/n-nie," he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me."

You can't help but chuckle at his bold request, feeling a rush of heat spread through you at the thought of indulging his playful banter. "Why?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in mock innocence. "Are you planning to use this in your songs?" you ask breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands slip under the fabric of your little black dress, hands find their way to your breasts.

Jihoon laughs at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he shakes his head. "Who knows?" he replies with a smirk. "But I think I'd much rather hear it from your lips than write it in a song."

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk playing on your lips. "Fine," you say, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear. "But you're going to owe me for this."

With a sly grin, you reach down and find the waistband of his pants and underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. Jihoon gasps in surprise as his pink, big cock springs free, standing shiny and eager in the dim light.

You can't help but let out a low moan at the sight, desire coursing through you as you gaze hungrily at him. "God, I wanted this cock so bad," you whisper, your voice dripping with desire. "I've been dreaming about it for so long."

As Jihoon holds back the urge to roll his eyes at your words, you lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt as he tries to steady himself against the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. "Hmm Y/N yes!" 

With a hungry desire, you take his cock into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his hardness as you work him with eager enthusiasm. Jihoon's hands tremble slightly as he holds onto his shirt, his moans growing louder and more desperate with each movement of your mouth.

Feeling your own arousal building with each passing second, you can't help but reach down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as you slide your fingers into your dripping wet pussy. You can't help but moan around Jihoon's cock as you pleasure yourself.

Jihoon's moans grow even louder at the sound, his hips bucking involuntarily as he struggles to hold back his release. "Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he says, head thrown back. With each thrust of your mouth and each stroke of your fingers in your pussy, the tension in the room grows thicker, until finally, with a loud cry, Jihoon reaches his climax, his hot cum spilling into your mouth.

As you swallow eagerly, relishing the taste of Jihoon's release, you feel a surge of ecstasy coursing through you. But before you can fully enjoy the moment, Jihoon's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Stop," he says, his voice hoarse with desire.

You reluctantly remove your hand from between your legs, your fingers still slick with arousal as you look up at Jihoon with glazed eyes. He takes your hand in his, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards his bed.

Your dress is now bunched up around your waist, the fabric clinging to your skin as Jihoon manages to remove his shirt with trembling hands. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he presses you gently onto the bed, his hands roaming over your exposed skin.

With a sense of urgency, Jihoon leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he explores every inch of your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss, the sensation of his lips making you feel rewarded.

As Jihoon's hand finds the fabric of your panties and tugs them down your legs, throwing the piece away, you shiver with anticipation, your arousal pooling between your thighs. His fingers find your sopping wet cunt, and you moan at the slight touch, your body trembling with desire.

With a wicked grin, Jihoon leans in close, his voice low and husky as he begins to dirty talk to you. "You know, Y/n-nie," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I saw you all those times you sat in the auditorium, watching me play."

You gasp at his words, the memory of those moments flooding your mind as you feel a surge of heat spreading through you. "I loved knowing you were there, looking at me, wanting me." Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with desire. "I couldn't help but wonder what was passing through your little filthy mind as you watched me." 

"Did you imagine me touching you, pleasing you, making you scream my name?"

His words send a surge of desire rushing through you, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. With a desperate need, you arch your hips towards him, silently begging for more as you lose yourself in the intoxicating heatness of Jihoon's dirty talk.

s Jihoon's fingers sink inside your pussy, you let out a gasp of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming your senses. Your mouth opens to answer him, but all that escapes is a string of expletives as pleasure washes over you.

"Fuck!" you swear, your voice strained with desire as Jihoon's fingers move inside you. The sound of your arousal fills the room, loud and squelching as his fingers slide in and out, your wetness coating his hand with each delicious thrust.

His movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke driving you closer and closer to the edge. You squirm beneath him, your body writhing with pleasure as ragged gasps leave your lips. With each movement of his fingers, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment.

And as Jihoon continues to drive you wild with his fingers, his voice fills the air with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Fuck," he breathes, his words heavy with longing. "Everyone told me to take action, but..."

But what? You find yourself holding your breath, waiting for Jihoon to finish his sentence. But he doesn't say anything else, leaving the words hanging in the air between you, tantalizingly unfinished.

You can feel the tension mounting, the anticipation building as you wait for Jihoon to speak again. But instead of words, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But now that I have you like this, begging for more," Jihoon continues, his voice dripping with lust, "I never want to let you go." 

The admission sends a thrill of excitement coursing through you, knowing that Jihoon has been thinking about this moment just as much as you have. 

As Jihoon pumps his fingers inside you, you grip his forearm tightly, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. Your head spins with pleasure, and your stomach flutters with anticipation as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Every sensation is overwhelming, from the scent of his cologne to the intensity of his gaze, to the sound of his voice saying all those filthy things that send shivers down your spine. You're lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, unable to think about anything except the pleasure coursing through your veins.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel yourself tensing, your pussy throbbing and clenching around Jihoon's fingers. He senses your impending release and curls his fingers inside you, sending you over the edge.

"And I promise," Jihoon murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin, "I'm going to make you feel so good, Y/n-nie. You won't be able to think about anything else but me."

You arch your back, a pornographic moan escaping your lips as you cum around his fingers, your juices coating his hand and forearm in a sticky mess. The intensity of your orgasm is overwhelming, leaving you breathless and trembling in Jihoon's arms.

"You're amazing," Jihoon continues, his voice low and sensual. "The way you moan, the way you tremble beneath my touch... It's driving me wild."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you at the thought of Jihoon being so captivated by you. His praise is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and you find yourself craving more with each passing moment.

"Can I fuck this pretty pussy, hm?" Jihoon asks, his voice low and filled with desire, as he flips your clit with his thumb.

You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as pleasure shoots through you. "Yes, please," you whisper, your voice thick with need.

Jihoon chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Are you sure you can handle it?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimper at his words, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you. "Yes," you moan, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you to fuck me until I can't take it anymore."

As Jihoon's tip presses against your slit, you quiver with anticipation, feeling the wet folds parting to welcome him inside. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he guides his cock deeper inside you.

You moan into his mouth as he enters you fully, his length stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. A gasp escapes Jihoon's lips as he sinks into you, the sensation overwhelming both of you with pleasure.

With his cock buried deep inside you, Jihoon opens his mouth in a gasp of ecstasy, his breath hot against your skin. You whimper at the sensation, feeling a surge of desire coursing through you as he bites your chin lightly, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

As Jihoon moves inside of you, his hips rolling with a rhythm that drives you wild, you can't help but cling to him desperately, your hands finding purchase on his back as he fills you up so perfectly. The previous orgasm has left you sensitive and achingly aroused, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you with ease.

You look into his eyes, lost in the depths of his gaze, feeling a connection that transcends words. His necklace brushes against your face with each thrust, a reminder of his presence, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

Tears stream down your face, mingling with the pleasure and overwhelming sensation of having him finally inside you. It's not a dream – Jihoon is here, fucking you with a passion that leaves you breathless and shaking.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of ecstasy as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure, every movement of his hips sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You hold onto him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you ride the wave of sensation, knowing that this moment will stay with you forever.

As Jihoon's cock hits your G-spot, you arch your back in ecstasy, the pleasure overwhelming you as you cling to him desperately. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

But then, a sob escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation bringing tears to your eyes. Jihoon hears your sob and responds by thrusting in the same way, driving you even closer to the edge of pleasure.

You sob even louder at the sensation, the pleasure so intense that it's almost unbearable. But Jihoon is there for you, cooing softly as he continues to move inside you, his touch bringing you both pleasure and comfort.

You call out his name, your words babbling as you try to express just how good it feels. "Jihoon, it's too good," you whimper, your voice thick with desire. "Too good..."

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he holds you close. "I've got you, Y/n-nie. Just let go and feel it."

As Jihoon turns you around and pushes your head onto the pillow, you let out a scream of pleasure, the intensity of his thrusts overwhelming your senses. With each movement of his hips, you feel yourself weakening, surrendering completely to the pleasure coursing through you.

Jihoon's thrusts are intense, his cock driving deep inside you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. His hands tremble as he grabs onto you wherever he can, his moans mingling with yours.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, you feel it – the tightening in your stomach, the trembling of your muscles as your pussy walls hug Jihoon's cock tight. He spasms with pleasure everytime you clench around him. 

As you feel the wave of pleasure building inside you, you grip the sheets and pillows tight, your body convulsing with the intensity of the sensation. Jihoon continues to thrust into you with the same relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each movement of his hips.

And then, it happens – you cum on his cock, your entire body trembling with the force of your release. A long, exasperated cry escapes your lips as you convulse around him, your pussy gushing with wetness as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Jihoon watches you in awe, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he sees you spasming and creaming around his cock. He holds himself back with every ounce of willpower he has, determined to wait until you're fully satisfied before allowing himself to succumb to his own release.

But as he feels you tightening around him, the sensation driving him to the edge of control, he knows that he won't be able to hold out much longer. With a guttural groan, he lets go, his own climax crashing over him in a tidal wave.

As Jihoon rides out his climax, his cum mixing with yours as it drips from your pussy, the sound of the messy aftermath echoing around the room. You both collapse onto the bed, spent and breathless, the intensity of your orgasms still coursing through your veins.

The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a tangible reminder of the passion that has consumed you both. But as you lie there together, wrapped in each other's arms, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As Jihoon plays with your hair, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between you, he asks softly, "Are you going to continue watching me play in the auditorium?"

You smile up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him perform again. "Of course," you reply without hesitation. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jihoon's eyes light up with a hint of mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Good," he says, his voice filled with determination. "But this time, I want you to be in the front row, not on the last chairs."

You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of being so close to him while he performs. "I'd love that," you murmur, your heart pounding in anticipation.

[joeyfranchise]

no one’s ever had me (not like you)

joe burrow x reader

description: after a tough week 5 loss in overtime, joe comes home to you angry and confused. you try to make him feel better and comfort him, letting him know you’ll always be there.

warnings: nothing too bad, but still MDNI. (makes me uncomfy.) lots of angry joe, a bit of fluff, semi-spicy kiss. mostly angst.

word count: 1.8k

note. hi hi! this is my first joe fic/blurb so i hope you guys enjoy it. sorry in advance that lowercase is my aesthetic. i used to get yelled at for it in elementary school. i love you guys. who dey!! (title & plot are lyrics from so high school, i love u mother taylor.)

pacing. you were pacing back and forth in front of the television in joe’s living room, watching the seconds tick down to end regulation time in the game. it took everything in you not to turn it off.

you watched as the minutes, seconds, milliseconds in overtime ticked by, hoping and praying your boyfriend and his team could pull out a win.

you felt your heart lurch as mcpherson went for the field goal and the ball wasn’t in the correct place. wide left. you knew it was over. you continued watching, frozen in place, as baltimore did everything they needed to do to score. they made it to field goal range, kicked, and won the game. your heart was hammering against your chest. your breath was coming out in short puffs.

after valiant efforts from joe and the rest of the team, the bengals once again took a loss at the very end of the game, something that kept happening to them this year. you knew joe would come home upset.

watching the post game interview was going to be something you dreaded today. joe took his seat and began talking to the interviewers, answering their repetitive questions and talking about what needed to be done to fix the team, what could use work next week.

you rested your head in your hands and blew out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “oh, joey…” you whispered, seeing your boyfriend’s clearly upset glare on the screen. you couldn’t wait to see him when he got home, but you were unsure of what his mood would be.

after the interview was done, you turned the television off. ‘i could start some laundry’ you thought, at least that’d keep you busy until joe’s return home.

you made your way to his bedroom, which honestly felt like your room too, and gathered all the clothes that needed to be washed before taking them to the laundry room. you tossed the laundry into the machine and then added in your favorite scent beads and detergent before turning it on and closing the lid.

‘i can tackle dishes next’ you thought, heading for the large kitchen. of course you could’ve loaded them into the dishwasher, but something needed to keep you busy and washing dishes was always strangely cathartic to you.

you popped your earbuds in and started listening to your favorite playlist before tackling the chore. once dishes were complete, you vacuumed, watered a few plants, and made yourself a snack. finally the washer beeped, so you went to switch the clothes over.

as you were switching them, joe arrived home, pulling his sleek black car into the garage before locking it up and heading into the house. listening to your music and keeping yourself busy helped lift your spirits some, which you hoped would aide you when joe finally made it back.

when he didn’t greet you upon entering the house, you knew tonight would be a tough night.

you peeked your head out of the laundry room to check for a clear coast, and it was. tiptoe-ing your way down the hall, you made your way to the kitchen where joe still was, his back facing you.

you cleared your throat softly to get his attention, but he didn’t move. you could see he was scrolling through his phone, you worried he was reading negativity that was being spewed about himself and the team.

“joey?” you called, your voice sounded smaller than you intended.

“what?” he snapped, turning to face you. you flinched at the tone of his voice, taking half a step back. internally he berated himself for scaring you, but his post-game mood was too foul to turn off now.

“i know it’s silly to ask, but are you okay?” you question, looking up at him from across the room.

he ran his hand through his short blonde hair before blowing a snarky chuckle through his nose, scoffing at you.

“am i okay?” he snarked, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. “what a great question! you sound like the post-game interviewers!”

the bite in his tone was starting to affect you, but you didn’t want to leave him alone just yet. as much as it hurt, you knew what he needed in this moment was to let this anger out any way possible.

“talk to me about it.” you pleaded, walking toward him and placing a hand on his forearm. he rolled his eyes as a response. “c’mon joey, i know you’re mad but you can—“ you don’t get to finish your sentence before joe groans out in response, a loud “UGH!” before lobbing his water bottle at the wall. you’re shocked it doesn’t bust a hole through.

“what is there to say, hmm? what do you want me to tell you that the world doesn’t already think or know? we aren’t looking like a championship team right now. everything we’re doing is never enough for success, and here i am, 27 years old and being called washed up.” he chides, looking down at you. his voice booms across the room, making you feel only inches tall.

your expression drops, and you turn your gaze toward the wall as tears well up in your eyes. joe takes a small step toward you, his hands flexing at his sides. you can tell he wants to reach out to you, touch you, apologize to you for scaring you.

“i’m sorry.” he says softly, hanging his head. you’ll let him make the first move. he steps toward you again, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, testing the waters. when he sees that you’re still receptive to his touch, despite his atrocious attitude, he moves his hand to the back of your neck before pulling you into him for a hug. you instinctively reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you.

both of you stay like that for a few moments, just holding each other and feeling each other breathe. joe’s face is buried in your neck and your hand is scratching slow soft circles into his hair. you hear him sniffle and you pull away slightly, trying to get a view of his face. he looks up at you with red eyes, tears falling down his cheeks.

“joey, baby,” you comfort him, “it’s going to be okay. you’re going to be okay.” your heart breaks seeing him so upset.

he says nothing, but leads you out of the kitchen and to the living room so you can sit down together. he plops onto the couch and pulls you into his lap, burying his face again.

“i just feel like i’m failing them. i’m doing everything within my power, and it doesn’t seem like enough.” he rasps, muffled into your neck. you say nothing, knowing he needs to get this out. you run your hands down his biceps as a gesture for him to keep going, that you understand.

“the whole world thinks i’m a fluke. they think my play-calling is shit, they think i had one kick-ass college season and that i made it to the nfl and choked. when does it end, you know? we took our team to the superbowl and what happened? we lost. it just feels like i’m stuck in this rut and i can’t get out.”

you sit for a moment, processing what he said. his words hurt you, just as much as you know the thoughts hurt him.

“i hear you joey. i really do. but i have some things i’d like to say, if that’s okay.”

he nods, expectant eyes raking over your face. “i’d love to hear it, baby. please.”

“first of all,” you start, playing up your sass in an attempt to make him laugh, “you aren’t washed up. people who think you are most likely sit on their couches and rot all day long while you’re out here training and conditioning your body for the physicality of your job. i think you’re in your prime.” you pause, squeezing his biceps for emphasis.

“next, you can’t take all the blame. sure, you’re the leader of the team, but it doesn’t all fall on you. it’s very noble of you to do that, but you don’t have to shoulder it. you played your heart out today. you all did. i’m so proud of you.” you move your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

“lastly, fuck what the world thinks, joe. you know how good you are. i know how good you are. your parents know, your teammates know. other players in the league know. you’re incredible. you’ve got this, and after all is said and done i will be here. win or lose, i’m here, and i’ve got you.”

his eyes soften as you finish speaking. you don’t get a verbal reply. his hands reach up to cup your face, pulling you into him for a long kiss. his lips are soft against yours and it doesn’t take long before his hands are slipping up the back of your hoodie and rubbing along the exposed skin of your back.

your hands stay on his cheeks, loving the feeling of him being so close to you, his body pressed into yours. “i. love. you. so. much.” you tell him between pecks, feeling him smile into the kiss. one of his hands returns to your face and then tangles into your hair, tilting your head slightly as his tongue drags over your bottom lip.

he slowly slips his tongue into your mouth, gliding it against yours. after a moment, you pull away for air.

“thank you for that,” he smiles, stroking his hands down your arms, “for all of it. i needed that. i love you too. and i’m sorry for scaring you with my temper.”

“it’s okay, mine can be worse.” you jest, poking him in the ribs.

he pulls you down so you’re both laying on the couch before pulling his large cable knit throw blanket over you both. “let’s put it out of our minds, get takeout, and watch a movie.” you suggest, and he smiles in agreement. the two of you get cozy and pick your movie and dinner, remaining snuggled up on the couch as you watch and eat.

“you’re right, you know.” joe finally speaks again, as the movie nears its end.

“i usually am, but enlighten me.” you laugh, slipping your hand under his shirt and resting it on his abdomen.

“you’ve always had me. every turn, every bump in the road. every time i feel like i’ve made the biggest mistake, the biggest failure of my life. you’re there. you talk me through it and you put me in my place. no one’s ever had me like you have. i love you too, by the way.”

a soft smile spreads across your face as you reach up to stroke his hair again. “ditto baby, no one’s ever had me, not like you.”

he leans down and presses another soft, sweet peck to your lips. everything was going to be okay. you always had each other.

tags: @slimshiesty if you wanna be added, or if you have requests pls send me asks or dm’s! 💗

[marysfics]

Spinning on Vinyl

''You remind me of a song that I can't seem to skip''

Angst, Happy Ending, Fluff

The apartment feels eerily quiet without her. The kind of quiet that presses in on your chest and makes it hard to breathe. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve been alone here—Alexia has always been traveling for matches, for training camps, for endless commitments that took her far away from this small, shared space. But tonight, it feels different. Heavier.

You glance at the half-empty wine glass sitting beside you on the floor, untouched for a while now. The rich, red liquid doesn’t hold the same allure it did an hour ago when you first poured it, hoping it might numb the ache growing steadily in your chest. But wine can’t drown out everything, and it certainly can’t drown out memories.

In a slow, deliberate motion, you reach over to the vinyl record player resting on the shelf. The same one the two of you had found in some vintage shop on one of those rare days when Alexia wasn’t rushing to the next match or the next media appearance. You remember her smile when she saw it, how she picked it up with delicate hands, her eyes lighting up like a child’s. She had said it reminded her of her childhood, of Sundays spent with her family listening to old records, the music mingling with the smell of her mother’s cooking.

Now, the player feels like a relic of something lost—something you’re trying desperately to hold on to, even as it slips through your fingers. The needle touches the vinyl, and the first crackle fills the room. The static noise that used to sound comforting, like a prelude to something magical, now feels like the space between you and her. Thin, fragile, barely holding it all together.

The music begins, soft and slow, an old song that you both loved. It was the kind of melody that wrapped around you like a blanket, pulling you into each other’s arms without a word. You close your eyes, sinking into the sound, letting it carry you back to a time when everything felt simpler. Back when Alexia was yours—not just in fleeting moments, but truly yours.

The bassline vibrates through the room, echoing in the emptiness, and you can almost hear her voice in your head, low and soft, singing along under her breath as she always did. You smile faintly at the memory of it—the way she used to sing off-key just to make you laugh. She wasn’t a performer, not in that way. She saved her grace for the pitch, but in these quiet moments, she was unguarded, playful, completely at ease.

God, how long has it been since you’ve seen her like that?

Your eyes drift to the framed photos on the wall. There’s one of the two of you, her arm slung around your shoulder, both of you grinning at the camera after one of her games. Her jersey is still drenched in sweat, hair messy from the action, but her eyes—her eyes were on you. You remember the moment clearly. It was the first time she’d kissed you in public, right there in front of the cameras, after she scored the winning goal. She had pulled you close, pressing her lips to your forehead, murmuring something in your ear that made you laugh, but now you can’t remember what she said. Just the feeling it left behind, warm and safe.

But that warmth has faded, replaced by the cold void of her absence.

The vinyl continues to spin, the needle gliding effortlessly through the grooves. Each note feels like a heartbeat, each lyric a whisper of something lost. You don’t even try to stop the memories now—they flood your mind, unrelenting, filling every corner of your thoughts with her.

You can picture her so clearly. The way she used to curl up on the couch after a long day, her legs tucked beneath her, that soft smile on her face as you laid beside her. The smell of her shampoo, something fresh and clean, the way her hair would fall into her eyes when she was too tired to push it back. The sound of her laughter—low, almost raspy, but full of life. You can still hear it, like an echo bouncing off the walls, even though it’s been weeks since you last heard it in person.

God, it’s been weeks.

You glance at your phone again, your thumb hovering over her name. It feels like it’s always been there, waiting for the right moment to press call, or send a message, or do anything that might pull her back to you. But you can’t. You haven’t. The space between your last conversation and now feels too wide, too difficult to cross with just a text.

She’s always somewhere else. Even when she’s here, she’s always got one foot out the door, ready for the next game, the next match, the next chapter of her story that you’re barely a part of anymore. It wasn’t always like this, though. Once, there was balance. There was her, and there was you, and it felt like the two of you existed in this beautiful harmony, like two notes perfectly in sync. Now, it’s as if you’re playing different songs, neither of you willing to change the tune.

The music picks up, the tempo quickening, but it doesn’t bring comfort. If anything, it reminds you how things have been moving too fast. How her career is growing and expanding in every direction, while you feel like you’re standing still, watching from the sidelines.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most.

You never wanted to be a spectator in her life. You wanted to be a part of it, truly part of it, not just someone she comes home to when the world isn’t watching. But lately, that’s all you’ve been—someone who waits, who watches, who wonders if there’s still space for you in her world.

The song swells, and with it, so does the ache in your chest. You lean your head back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut, letting the music wash over you. You focus on the rhythm, trying to lose yourself in it, trying to forget the gnawing emptiness that seems to grow with every passing day.

But you can’t forget her. You never could.

The song changes, a softer melody now, and with it comes the familiar pull of nostalgia. You know what’s coming next. This was your song—the one you and Alexia always danced to, barefoot in the kitchen, her hands on your hips, your head resting on her shoulder. The first time she heard it, she’d laughed, pulling you into her arms without hesitation, spinning you around as if no one was watching. You’d laughed, too, feeling weightless, like the rest of the world didn’t exist beyond that moment.

The memory is so vivid, you can almost feel her now. The heat of her body pressed against yours, the way her breath would ghost across your neck as she whispered something silly, something that would make you giggle, even though the moment was already perfect. She’d twirl you around, her fingers never leaving your waist, like you were the only thing tethering her to the ground.

You open your eyes and sigh, the weight of it all pulling you back to reality.

But there’s no Alexia here. Just the music. Just the memories. Just you.

The room fades around you, swallowed up by the growing intensity of the music. The song on the record shifts, and with it comes a memory so vivid it pulls you in before you can stop it. It’s one of the earliest memories you have of her, back when things were new and easy. Back when every look, every touch felt electric, charged with possibility.

It was your first time at one of her games. You remember the nerves—the restless energy in your stomach, unsure of what to expect. Sure, you’d seen Alexia play on TV, heard her name shouted in crowded rooms, but watching her from a distance was nothing compared to being there in person, seeing her live in her element, where she shined brightest.

The stadium was a sea of faces, all of them there for her, but you felt like the only one who mattered. There, in the cold evening air, with your heart beating faster than it should, you found your seat and waited, the anticipation growing with every passing minute.

The moment she stepped onto the pitch, everything else fell away.

Alexia was magnetic. There was no other way to describe it. The way she moved—so effortlessly, so fluid—it was like watching art in motion. Each step was deliberate, each pass precise. It wasn’t just a game to her. It was something deeper, something that coursed through her veins like it was what she was made for. She owned the field, commanding it with a quiet intensity, and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. You didn’t want to.

For the first few minutes, you were just another face in the crowd, just another fan cheering her name. But then it happened. That moment when she looked up, searching the stands, and her eyes found yours.

It was like time stopped.

You froze, breath catching in your throat, heart hammering against your ribs. Alexia smiled—a soft, private smile that didn’t belong to the roaring crowd or the flashing cameras. It was yours, and yours alone. And in that moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. Not the game, not the people, not the pressure that came with being Alexia Putellas. Just her and you, sharing a moment that felt sacred in a sea of chaos.

You could still remember how your chest tightened at the sight of her. The way your pulse quickened as she ran down the field, weaving between defenders, her eyes sharp, focused, a silent determination etched on her face. Every movement was so deliberate, so graceful, like she was painting something only she could see. And every time she touched the ball, it felt like a promise—a promise that she would win, for you, for both of you.

As the game wore on, the energy in the stadium shifted, growing more intense with every passing minute. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, their voices rising with the action on the pitch. But you weren’t focused on the game. You were focused on her.

You could see the exhaustion starting to creep into her movements, the weight of the match bearing down on her. But she didn’t slow down. She pushed harder, her body moving with a fierce determination that was both beautiful and heartbreaking. Because you knew—somewhere deep down—you knew she wasn’t just fighting for the win. She was fighting for you. For this. For the life she was trying to balance between the demands of her career and the fragile, growing thing between you.

Then it happened.

A breakaway.

Alexia darted through the defense, her eyes locked on the goal. The crowd surged around you, their voices a tidal wave of anticipation, but all you could hear was your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you watched her close in on the moment. It was as if the world had narrowed to just her and the ball, and then—

She struck.

The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but you heard it. You felt it. It was victory—sharp, sweet, and undeniable. The stadium erupted around you, people leaping to their feet, cheering her name. And amidst it all, she turned, her eyes finding yours once again, that same soft smile tugging at her lips.

It was for you. The goal, the smile, the unspoken promise between you—it was all for you.

You stood, your legs trembling slightly from the rush of adrenaline, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. It was impossible not to be swept up in her energy, in the joy radiating from her like sunlight after a long storm. For a moment, it felt like nothing could touch you. Like you were invincible, riding the high of her victory as if it were your own.

After the game, you lingered by the stadium entrance, waiting for her. The night air was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the heat that still pulsed in your veins. The minutes stretched on, each one a little heavier than the last, until finally, you saw her.

She emerged from the locker room, still in her kit, her hair damp from the shower, strands falling into her eyes in that careless way you loved so much. Her cheeks were flushed, not from exertion but from the glow of the win, her confidence radiating like a halo around her.

When she spotted you, her face softened, the sharp edges of the competitive athlete melting away. She was just Alexia again. Your Alexia.

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice low and a little rough from the match. There was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, like she was unsure of what came next, even after all that had passed between you during the game. “Did you—?”

“You were amazing,” you cut her off, shaking your head in disbelief. “Like…breathtaking.”

The corner of her mouth lifted, that crooked smile that always made your heart skip a beat. She stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours in that familiar, gentle way that was more intimate than anything else. Her fingers curled around yours, and you squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, the slight tremor in her grip from the adrenaline that still hadn’t faded.

“I wanted you to see this,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours. “I wanted you to understand…this part of me.”

You nodded, unable to find the right words to respond. Because how could you explain to her that you didn’t just understand this part of her—you loved it? You loved all of her, even the parts that scared you, the parts that took her away from you for weeks at a time. You loved the way she poured her soul into her sport, the way she gave everything, even when there was nothing left for herself.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “So proud.”

Alexia’s hand tightened around yours, her eyes softening with something that looked like relief. “Thank you,” she breathed, her forehead resting gently against yours. “I’m proud of you too.”

You smiled at that, feeling a strange sense of peace settle over you. In that moment, it didn’t matter that the rest of the world was watching her, or that her life was so much bigger than you could ever be. All that mattered was this—her, you, and the quiet understanding that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

But now, sitting here, listening to the vinyl spin, the memory feels bittersweet. Because somewhere along the way, the promise you’d felt that night slipped through your fingers. The connection that had felt so solid, so unbreakable, had started to fray at the edges, pulled thin by the relentless demands of her career, by the endless distance that seemed to grow between you.

And even though you told yourself it would be enough—her love, her smiles, the quiet moments you stole between the chaos—you can’t shake the feeling that something is missing now. That maybe, just maybe, the space between you has become too wide to cross.

The soft hum of the vinyl fades into the background as your thoughts drift, wandering through the memories you’ve been holding onto so tightly. It's strange how the things that once brought you so much comfort—like the music, the photos, the laughter you once shared—now weigh heavy on your chest, like they’re relics of something you can’t quite touch anymore.

It’s been weeks since you last saw Alexia. Weeks of lonely nights spent with your phone in your hand, wondering if you should call, if you should say something—anything—to bridge the ever-widening distance between you. But every time you pull up her name, your thumb hovering over the screen, something stops you.

Maybe it’s fear. Fear that the space between you has grown too vast to close with a simple text. Or maybe it’s the nagging doubt that’s been creeping in lately—the doubt that maybe you’re not enough for her anymore. Not enough to compete with the whirlwind that is her life, her career, her success.

You hate thinking that way. You hate feeling like you’re waiting in the wings of her life, a spectator in a relationship that once made you feel so alive. But you can’t shake the sensation that you’re slowly being left behind, even though you’re desperately trying to hold on.

The apartment feels colder now, as if the memories of her have seeped out of the walls, leaving only emptiness in their wake. You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling the blanket tighter as if that might somehow fill the void she’s left behind. But it doesn’t. It never does.

She’s always on your mind. Even when you’re not actively thinking about her, she lingers in the back of your thoughts like a half-finished melody. You can hear her laugh, see the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, feel the warmth of her hand slipping into yours. But those memories feel so far away now, like they belong to someone else—someone who existed in a time when things were simpler, when you weren’t questioning every unreturned text, every missed call.

You try to tell yourself that it’s just temporary, that this is just a rough patch. After all, Alexia has always had a demanding schedule. It’s part of who she is, part of what makes her so extraordinary. You knew that from the beginning—knew that she would always be pulled in a thousand different directions. But back then, it didn’t feel like a threat. Back then, it felt like you could weather anything, as long as you had each other.

But now… now, it feels different.

The record clicks as the needle reaches the end, the soft static filling the room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You sit up, the sudden silence amplifying the emptiness you’ve been trying to ignore all night. The apartment feels too big without her, too quiet, and the loneliness presses in around you, suffocating.

You reach for your phone again, your hand trembling slightly as you scroll through the messages. Her name is at the top, of course. There are texts from her—short, sweet messages telling you she misses you, that she can’t wait to come home. You read them over and over, hoping that somehow they’ll soothe the ache in your chest. But they’re not enough.

Because you want more than just texts. You want her. You want her here, beside you, her arms wrapped around you, her voice soft in your ear as she tells you about her day. You want the little moments—the mornings spent tangled in the sheets, the evenings spent cooking dinner together, the quiet laughter that filled the spaces between words. You want all of her, not just the parts that she can give when she’s not busy being someone else’s hero.

You sigh, leaning back against the couch, the weight of it all pressing down on you. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt this way, but it’s never been this intense before. The doubt, the longing, the frustration—it’s all building up inside you, threatening to spill over. You don’t know how much longer you can keep it all inside.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, typing out a message you’ve written a hundred times before.

"I miss you."

Three simple words. Words you’ve said to her countless times, but now, they feel heavier than ever. You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the send button. Part of you hopes that this will be the message that changes things, that maybe she’ll respond with something that will make all of this feel worth it. But another part of you—the part that’s been growing louder and more insistent—wonders if sending this message will only serve to highlight the growing gap between you.

Because as much as you miss her, you can’t shake the feeling that maybe she’s getting used to life without you.

That thought hits you harder than you expect, a cold rush of fear flooding your chest. You’ve been trying so hard to stay positive, to tell yourself that things will get better, that this is just a temporary phase. But the truth is, you don’t know that for sure. You don’t know what’s going through her mind when she’s out there, traveling from one city to the next, surrounded by people who worship her, who don’t see the side of her that you do. The side that’s vulnerable, that’s unsure, that needs someone to ground her.

And that’s the part that scares you the most. Because what if she doesn’t need you anymore?

You close your eyes, willing the tears to stay where they are. You’re not ready to face that possibility. Not yet.

But as the silence stretches on, broken only by the faint crackle of the record player, you start to wonder if maybe this is the beginning of the end. Maybe all those little moments you’ve been holding onto, all those memories you’ve been replaying in your mind, are just that—memories. Moments that belong to the past, not the future.

You stand up slowly, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you make your way to the window. The city outside is alive, bustling with people, with life, but you feel so far removed from it all. You lean your forehead against the cool glass, staring out at the lights below. It’s strange how the world keeps moving, even when it feels like yours is standing still.

You wonder what Alexia is doing right now. Whether she’s thinking about you, too, or if she’s wrapped up in her world, too busy to notice the growing distance. You want to believe that she misses you as much as you miss her, but the longer this silence stretches between you, the harder it is to hold onto that belief.

Another message from her lights up your phone, and your heart skips a beat. You glance down at the screen, hoping for something more than the usual pleasantries. But it’s just a quick, “Training was tough today. I’ll call you tomorrow, love you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone as you read the words. Tomorrow. It’s always tomorrow. Tomorrow she’ll call, tomorrow you’ll talk, tomorrow things will be better. But tomorrow never comes, and you’re left here, waiting in the space between promises and reality.

You type out a quick reply—something supportive, something sweet, because that’s what you do. You’ve always been her anchor, her steady ground when everything else is chaos. But right now, you feel like you’re drifting, and you’re not sure how to find your way back.

The music starts again, the same song as before, its familiar melody wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace. You let the sound wash over you, filling the empty spaces where her voice should be, and for a moment, you allow yourself to sink into the feeling of it all—the longing, the love, the uncertainty.

Because that’s all you have right now.

The city lights blur through the window as you stand there, forehead still pressed against the cold glass, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. You’ve spent so long in this space—this liminal place between hope and despair—that it’s starting to feel like home. A home you never wanted.

Your phone buzzes in your hand again, but this time, it’s not a message. It’s her.

Alexia.

The name lights up the screen, and for a moment, you just stare at it, heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t expecting her to call tonight—not after the brief message about tomorrow—but here she is, reaching out when you were least prepared.

Your thumb hesitates over the green button. Every muscle in your body feels tense, as if you’re holding your breath, unsure if you’re ready for this conversation. Because deep down, you know it’s not just going to be small talk this time. It can’t be. There’s too much unsaid between you now, too much that’s been left hanging in the silence.

With a shaky breath, you press accept.

“Hey,” you say, your voice coming out softer than you intended, almost fragile.

“Hey,” Alexia replies, and you can hear the weariness in her voice, the strain of a long day clinging to her like an invisible weight. There’s a pause, the quiet stretch of unspoken words filling the space between you, and for a second, you wonder if she can feel the tension too.

“How was training?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, though it feels like a thin veil over the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

“Exhausting,” she admits with a sigh, “but that’s not really why I’m calling.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick. You can hear the seriousness in her tone, the shift that tells you this conversation isn’t going to be easy.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she continues, her voice quieter now, like she’s testing the waters. “About…everything.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of those words settle over you. This is it. This is the conversation you’ve been avoiding, the one you’ve been dreading but also needing. Because no matter how much you’ve tried to pretend that things are fine, that this is just a rough patch, deep down you know that something has to change. You just don’t know if you’re ready to face what that change might look like.

“Me too,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to find the right words that won’t sound like accusations, like blame. “It’s just… it feels like we’re losing each other, Alexia.”

The words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. It’s the truth you’ve been holding back for so long, the fear that’s been gnawing at you in the quiet moments when she’s not around.

There’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you think maybe she didn’t hear you. But then she speaks, and her voice is full of something you didn’t expect: guilt.

“I know,” she says softly, her voice breaking slightly. “I know I haven’t been around as much, and I hate that. I hate that I’ve been making you feel like this, like I’m slipping away.”

You close your eyes, letting her words sink in. There’s something comforting in hearing her acknowledge it, in knowing that you’re not imagining the distance between you. But it doesn’t erase the ache in your chest, the loneliness that’s been gnawing at you for weeks.

“I don’t blame you,” you say, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay composed. “I know how important your career is. I’ve always known. But sometimes it feels like... like I’m just waiting for you to have time for me. And it’s hard, Alexia. It’s really hard.”

“I don’t want you to feel that way,” she whispers, and there’s a heaviness in her voice that makes your heart clench. “I never wanted to make you feel like you’re not important. You are. You’re everything to me. It’s just—” She pauses, searching for the right words, the frustration clear in her tone. “It’s hard to balance everything. The games, the training, the travel… Sometimes I feel like I’m failing you, like I’m failing us.”

Her vulnerability catches you off guard. You can hear the strain in her voice, the cracks in the facade she’s been holding up for so long. She’s always been so strong, so composed, but now, hearing her admit that she’s struggling too, it hits you in a way you didn’t expect.

“I didn’t realize,” you murmur, your heart softening just a little. “I didn’t know it was so hard for you too.”

There’s another pause, and when she speaks again, her voice is quieter, more tentative. “It’s just… I’m scared, you know? Scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that this—my life, my schedule, everything—is too much for you. That you’ll get tired of waiting for me, tired of not having me around when you need me.”

Her words hit you hard, because they echo the fears that have been swirling in your own mind. But hearing her say it, hearing the raw honesty in her voice, makes you realize that this isn’t just about you. It’s about both of you, trying to navigate a love that’s complicated by the realities of her career and the demands that come with it.

“I’m scared too,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared that one day, you’ll realize that maybe you don’t need me as much as you used to. That maybe your life is easier without trying to fit me into it.”

The silence that follows is heavy, the weight of all the unsaid things pressing down on both of you. But instead of making you feel more distant, it somehow makes you feel closer, like you’re both standing on the same edge, looking down at the same uncertain future.

“I do need you,” she says finally, her voice soft but firm. “I don’t want to do this without you. I don’t want a life where you’re not part of it. But I also know that I haven’t been showing you that. I know that I’ve been letting you down.”

You sit down on the edge of the couch, your heart pounding as her words settle over you. There’s a deep ache in your chest, but it’s mixed with something else now—something warmer, something that feels like hope.

“I miss you,” you say again, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I miss us. I miss what we used to have before everything got so... complicated.”

“I miss you too,” she replies, and there’s a rawness in her voice that makes your throat tighten. “I hate that I’ve been so far away, not just physically, but emotionally. And I don’t know how to fix it overnight, but I want to try. I need to try.”

The honesty in her words cracks something open inside you, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you’re finally on the same page. Like you’re both acknowledging the distance between you, but also agreeing to fight for what you have.

“I don’t need everything to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That I’m not the only one holding on.”

“You’re not,” she promises, and there’s a steadiness in her voice now, a determination that wasn’t there before. “You’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You close your eyes, letting the weight of her words sink in. It’s not a perfect solution, and you know there’s still a long way to go. But it’s a start. A step toward finding each other again, toward rebuilding the connection that’s been fraying at the edges.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice breaking with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back.

“I love you too,” Alexia replies, and this time, the words feel like a promise.

The next few days feel different.

There’s still the same space between you and Alexia—miles of distance, long hours, and time zones that never seem to align—but now, there’s something else. A thread, thin but unbreakable, pulling you closer together with every word exchanged. The tension that once filled the silence between you has eased, replaced by something softer, something that feels like hope.

She calls more often now. The messages come in with regularity—small updates on her day, pictures of sunsets and unfamiliar cities, jokes that make you smile in the quiet of your empty apartment. It’s not perfect. You still miss her, still feel the ache of wanting her beside you. But there’s a comfort in knowing that she’s trying, in knowing that she’s holding on just as tightly as you are.

It’s late one evening, almost midnight, when your phone buzzes again. You’re wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, the low hum of a record spinning in the background, when you see her name flash on the screen. It’s a video call this time.

Your heart flutters as you swipe to accept, the familiar chime of the call connecting filling the room. And then she’s there, her face filling the screen—messy hair, no makeup, her eyes soft with exhaustion but also warmth.

“Hi,” she says, her voice a little crackly through the phone, but it’s enough to make your heart skip.

“Hi,” you whisper back, your lips tugging into a smile. Just seeing her like this—raw, unguarded—makes you feel like the distance between you is shrinking, even if only for a moment.

“I miss your face,” Alexia murmurs, her own smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “It’s not the same seeing you on a screen.”

You chuckle softly, curling deeper into the blanket. “Tell me about it. I’m starting to think I’ve forgotten what you look like in person.”

She lets out a small laugh, but there’s a seriousness in her eyes that lingers. “Not for long, though.”

Your brow furrows, and before you can ask what she means, she shifts slightly, glancing at something off-camera. When she looks back, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, you know?” she starts, her tone soft but full of intent. “About what you said. About how we’ve been drifting. I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to keep waiting for ‘tomorrow’ to fix things. I want to make it better now.”

Your heart speeds up, her words sinking in. “Alexia, I—”

“I’m coming home,” she interrupts, her voice steady and sure. “Tomorrow. No more delays, no more excuses. I’ve talked to the team, and I’m taking a break for a few days. I just want to be with you.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait—tomorrow?”

She nods, a small, almost sheepish smile playing on her lips. “Yeah. I’ll be there by the afternoon. I know it won’t fix everything, but… I miss you. I need to be with you. We can figure the rest out together.”

The rush of emotion that washes over you is overwhelming. For so long, you’ve been holding onto the idea of her coming back, but it always felt like something just out of reach. And now, hearing her say it—hearing her make this promise—it feels real in a way that fills your chest with warmth.

“You’re really coming home?” you whisper, almost afraid to believe it.

“I am,” she says softly. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat, tears prickling at your eyes. “I think I can make room for you.”

Alexia’s smile widens, and there’s a lightness in her expression that you haven’t seen in weeks. “Good. Because I’ve missed your cooking. And I’m pretty sure I left one of my hoodies at your place, and I want it back.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a joy bubbling in your chest that you can’t contain. “I’ll think about it.”

The conversation continues, lighter now, filled with soft laughter and quiet jokes. For the first time in a long time, it feels easy again. The weight of the distance, the uncertainty, all of it starts to melt away as you talk about nothing and everything. The connection between you feels stronger, more tangible, and you hold onto it, refusing to let go.

When the call ends, the apartment feels a little less lonely. You curl up in bed, her promise echoing in your mind, and for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

The apartment feels warm the next day, glowing with a soft light from the fading afternoon sun that streams through the windows. It’s quiet, save for the gentle crackle of the vinyl spinning on the record player in the corner. You’d put it on earlier, a song that holds so many memories between the two of you. The room smells faintly of vanilla and clean linen, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s a stillness in the air that brings peace instead of loneliness.

Alexia stands in front of you, her hand in yours, as you both sway softly to the rhythm of the song. You catch her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she pulls you closer, her other hand settling against the small of your back.

Neither of you says anything. You don’t need to.

There’s a tenderness in the silence between you now, a shared understanding that doesn’t need words. The conversation you’d had—the raw, vulnerable honesty—has left you both feeling lighter, like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. And now, with her here, the familiar melody wrapping around you, everything feels right in a way it hasn’t for so long.

The song playing is slow and melodic, each note weaving through the room like it was made for this moment, for you and her. The kind of song you’d listened to on lazy Sunday mornings, back when time wasn’t something you worried about. Before the distance.

Alexia tightens her hold on you, her body pressing close as her forehead rests against yours. The gentle brush of her skin sends a shiver through you, but not from cold—from the quiet intensity of the moment, the electricity humming between you. It’s the first time in weeks you’ve felt this close to her, not just physically but emotionally.

You close your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her—something warm and soft, like home. The vinyl’s soft crackle and the quiet strumming of the guitar fill the air, creating a cocoon around you both.

“I missed this,” Alexia whispers, her breath brushing against your lips, her eyes still closed. “Just being here with you. Like this.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you lean into her, pressing your face into the curve of her neck. “I missed this too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, the emotions threatening to spill over.

For a while, you just sway like that, foreheads pressed together, hands resting on each other’s bodies. It’s a slow dance, the kind you fall into when time doesn’t matter, when the only thing that exists is the warmth of her touch and the steady rhythm of her breathing. The world outside feels distant, like it can’t reach you here, in this small bubble of peace you’ve found together.

The song shifts slightly, a new verse playing, and Alexia’s hand slowly slides up your back, her fingers tracing a path up to your shoulder before she gently lifts your chin to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, deep brown pools filled with something you haven’t seen in a while—a kind of certainty, a promise that she’s here, and she’s not leaving.

“I’m sorry for everything,” she says, her voice barely a whisper between the notes. “For making you feel like I was slipping away. I never meant to.” Her words are quiet but heavy, carrying the weight of all the moments that had felt so distant, so full of silence.

You shake your head softly, your forehead brushing against hers as you do. “We both made mistakes,” you reply, your voice gentle but firm. “But we’re here now, right? We’re fixing it.”

She nods, a small, grateful smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, we are.”

The music continues to fill the room, the crackling of the vinyl blending with the soft melody of the song. Alexia’s arms wrap around you fully, pulling you against her chest, and you let your hands rest on her waist, fingers lightly tracing the fabric of her shirt.

Her breath slows, and for a moment, you can feel the beat of her heart through her chest, steady and sure, like it’s syncing with the rhythm of the song. There’s something so intimate about this—no grand gestures, no need for words—just the quiet presence of being with each other, of knowing that after everything, after all the distance and the doubts, you’ve both chosen to stay.

As the song winds down, the notes fading into the background, you look up at her, catching her gaze again. There’s a softness there, a vulnerability that mirrors your own, and before you can think twice, you lean in and press your lips to hers. It’s a slow, lingering kiss, full of all the unsaid things that have been building between you for so long. A kiss that speaks of forgiveness, of love, of the quiet promise that you’re not letting go.

When you pull back, Alexia’s smile is small but real, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I love you,” she whispers, the words full of warmth and certainty.

“I love you too,” you reply, the weight of the words settling comfortably between you, like they’ve found their rightful place again.

The vinyl spins to a stop, the quiet crackle filling the room as the music fades. But neither of you moves. You stay wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying gently to the rhythm of a song only the two of you can hear. The city outside hums with life, but in this moment, it’s just you and her, dancing in the quiet, letting the world melt away.

Alexia leans her forehead against yours again, her eyes closing as she holds you close. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers softly, the words like a promise.

And as you stand there together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you know that this is what love is—messy, complicated, sometimes painful, but always worth fighting for. You tighten your hold on her, your fingers brushing her back as you sway gently to the silence.

Right now, in this moment, everything feels like it’s falling into place. And it’s enough.

-

Note: I've been experimenting with a new writing style that uses a lot more words than I typically do. l'd love to know if this is the kind of writing you'd like to see more of in the future.

[centrally-unplanned]

There are two big "AI Art Discourse" events of note recently, which I thought were interesting: ACX's "AI Art Turing Test" and the new paper on "AI Poetry Beating Human Poetry". Both of these I think reveal the shape of "what is AI art for", and also say a lot about how these results were utilized in discourse.

To take the latter first, some academics quizzed people on some poetry and had these results:

We found that AI-generated poems were rated more favorably in qualities such as rhythm and beauty, and that this contributed to their mistaken identification as human-authored. Our findings suggest that participants employed shared yet flawed heuristics to differentiate AI from human poetry: the simplicity of AI-generated poems may be easier for non-experts to understand, leading them to prefer AI-generated poetry and misinterpret the complexity of human poems as incoherence generated by AI.

More human than human poems! This certainly seems impressive - and it is. You couldn't have gotten these results ~5 years ago. But that maybe doesn't mean as much as you might think? Because here is the opening half of the winning "Walt Whitman AI" Poem:

I hear the call of nature, the rustling of the trees, The whisper of the river, the buzzing of the bees, The chirping of the songbirds, and the howling of the wind, All woven into a symphony, that never seems to end. I feel the pulse of life, the beating of my heart, The rhythm of my breathing, the soul's eternal art, The passion of my being, that burns with fervent fire, The urge to live, to love, to strive, to reach up higher. I see the beauty all around, the glory of the earth, The majesty of mountains, the miracles of birth, The wonder of the cosmos, the mysteries of the stars, The poetry of existence, that echoes near and far

This fucking sucks. Straight up 2/10 poem. Did this bitch seriously establish the world's most predictable rhyme scheme only to try to rhyme wind with end? You had one job that you chose for yourself, and you screwed it up! This poem has been written a million times before, and says nothing - the Miley Cyrus lyrics of verse.

The reason this won is, yes, because AI tools have advanced heavily in the past few years. But it is also because it is being tested on a dead art. No one cares about poetry - certainly not the survey respondents:

We asked participants several questions to gauge their experience with poetry, including how much they like poetry, how frequently they read poetry, and their level of familiarity with their assigned poet. Overall, our participants reported a low level of experience with poetry: 90.4% of participants reported that they read poetry a few times per year or less, 55.8% described themselves as “not very familiar with poetry”, and 66.8% describe themselves as “not familiar at all” with their assigned poet. 

"Or less" is doing a LOT of work there; "yeah I read a few nonfiction books a year" oh sure, totally. 90% of these respondents haven't read a poem that wasn't displayed in the end credits of Minecraft since high school. No one does, poetry as a medium is essentially a relic. That isn't an insult to poets, by the way! There is no shame in being a niche. Not everyone can have the reach of hentai doujin artists; the community is small but they get a ton out of it. But you can't take the art of the community and expect that art to hit outside of it.

This survey didn't ask people to evaluate art; it asked people to evaluate their stereotypical impression of an art they don't care about. It was ~600 people hired off a website, they banged it out ASAP and moved on. This is not to invalidate the results; I am not actually claiming that "real" poets would have scored much better? Maybe, I don't know - that just isn't very relevant.

Let's swing to the AI Art Turing Test results to get more into why. Again, AI art is absolutely "art" in the sense that it is able to pass the test handily. You have to be head-in-the-sand at this point to think that AI can't make an impressionist painting a la the "most liked" art in this contest:

I have seen the "well real paintings have physicality this is a jpeg" discourse points and the cope couldn't be more real - 99% of art consumption in the modern world is digital or at least prints, let's get you back to bed grandma. But I did find it pretty funny that Scott noted this AI piece as one he particularly liked:

Because it is nonsensical, right? All that "faded paint", how was it originally painted - just bucket splashes of red and blue? What are those random doors, the random stairs going nowhere on the sides, the vague-nothings engravings? Scott just didn't care about that - he liked the vibe, right? Ancient ruins, epic scale. It isn't a coincidence that the Impressionist art did the best - current AI tools are always impressionist, they have an idea of the vibe and invent the details in between. In Impressionism that is the whole point.

Now the trap is to go "REAL artists can tell because of this or that" because idk, the tools might get better, they might fill in more and more details. The real revelation here is that you don't need the tools to get better - visual art isn't so different from poetry. Most people don't pay attention to it all that much. You see thousands, thousands of pieces of art a week; you probably don't even realize how many. Do you really care if the fading paint makes coherent sense on a billboard ad or a doctor's office wall painting? So much art that is made is "industrial" in this sense - it has no need to be good. Only good enough to fulfill its utilitarian role. In these fields AI absolutely is going to Take Your Jobs in some form, and already is (though imo not a ton of them). And it won't really bother most people. This can go pretty deep - I promise you people are "utilizing" AI porn right now. They are ~appreciating the details~ way more than is typical, the product is working.

All this works until it doesn't, though. When it is an art book by a favourite artist whose vision you want to pour over, learning that all the individual details were just made by AI completely defeats the purpose, right? Imagine reading a book of these poems. Outside of the novelty, "AI is the point" factor you would rather watch infomercials on repeat, I can't imagine a more pointless use of my time. "Reading arbitrary poems" is never fun, regardless of the quality of the poems. Most people don't care about poetry! The reason you care is that you care about the poet, and what they want to say. You read poetry with context, it being inserted with intent into the pages of a manga, at the end of a video game, because you like the artist and follow them on twitter. The quality of the prose isn't more important than that.

Which is a harsh limit for all of these kinds of tests. They essentially aren't testing art, right? You do not ever get paid twenty bucks to sit down and read a dozen poems and score them. That has no bearing on how you would actually ever learn to care about a poem. Which doesn't make AI art useless or anything, more that these tests will very quickly run into their limits of what they can meaningfully tell you. The actual bar is "creating something someone cares about". From that lens, I fully believe hybrid methods that privilege artistic intent are currently working and will improve. But I think for "solo" AI art getting that to work is going to be complicated.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 1: Welcome To A New Kind Of Tension]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “American Idiot” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist ���

“What do you think, should we kill ourselves now or later?” Rio is spinning his Beretta M9 around on his index finger. This is not advisable. He doesn’t care.

Your hands are gripping the skeletal latticework of the transmission tower, steel hot enough to burn you; no electricity hums in the power lines suspended above your heads. Your eyes are on the horizon, golden June sunlight over fields no one has planted. Weeds are growing up through the earth, feral and defiantly useless, reclaiming their land just like the deer are, and the rabbits and the opossums and the turtles and the squirrels and the doves. The reign of humanity is over. Now you’re prey animals too. “Let’s wait.”

“For what?”

“Maybe someone will save us.”

“Ain’t nobody coming, Chips!” Rio says. “We’re a hundred feet off the ground in the middle of nowhere, motherfucking Catawissa, Pennsylvania, and we haven’t run into anyone since that Amish family back in Lightstreet, and I wouldn’t count on them driving by in their horse and buggy to pick us up.”

“We’re about sixty feet off the ground.”

“Okay, Bob the Builder, why don’t you whip up a helicopter or something to get us out of here?” Rio’s M9 has one bullet left in it, yours has three, nowhere near enough. At the bottom of the tower is a swarm of fifty-four zombies; you’ve counted them twice. There are no cute euphemisms: walkers, biters, the infected. They were once people and now they’re not. They wear the vestiges of their former lives, like how those who believe in reincarnation see meaning in birthmarks: here you were stabbed, there you were kissed by your true love. They lurch and snarl and hiss in their professional attire, college t-shirts, Vans and Jordans, septum piercings, wedding rings. They decompose in a miasma of metallic blood and spoiled meat. Parker had been the last one to the transmission tower, and they grabbed him by the legs. Now they’re chewing the gristle off his bones: disconnected ligaments that swing like strands of cobwebs, scarlet threads of muscle. “Oh shit,” Rio says, looking down. “We’ve got a smart one.”

Most zombies don’t have the fine motor skills to climb, swim, or open doors, but every once in a while—just like out of every 5,000 or 10,000 or however many ordinary humans you’ll pull the lever on the genetic slot machine and get a Picasso or a kid who can score a 1600 on the SATs—you run into an overachiever. This zombie, a teenage boy with red hair and a blue plaid shirt, is slowly scaling the tower. He’s already ten feet off the ground.

Rio aims his M9, semiautomatic, packs a punch but won’t break your arm with the recoil. “Fuck off, Ed Sheeran!” He fires and misses; the bullet grazes the boy’s shoulder. He groans dramatically and asks you in defeat: “Will you take care of that, please?”

You pull your pistol out of your holster and lean away from the tower to get a better angle, holding onto the scaffolding with one hand. You feel Rio’s large fingers close around your wrist, ready to yank you back if you slip. You click off the safety with your thumb, peer through the front sight, aim and wait until you’re sure. It’s a headshot: shards of skull ricochet off steel beams, half-rotten brains spray out in a mist. The carcass plummets to the earth.

“All this horror, all this catastrophe.” Rio’s eyes, dark like a mineshaft, drift mischievously back to you. “We could…distract each other.”

He’s not serious; this is a game you play. “No thanks.”

“You don’t want to die a virgin.”

“I do if you’re the only other person up here.”

“You deny a condemned man his final wish?”

“We’re not dying,” you insist. “What about Sophie?”

“Sophie would understand given the circumstances. She would want me to be happy.”

“What if we have sex and then immediately thereafter get rescued? You’d be a cheater. You’d be consumed by guilt. You’d never be able to take me back to your parents’ doomsday prepper cult commune in bumblefuck Oregon to wait out the apocalypse in peace.”

“You’re going to appreciate those doomsday preppers when you’re eating Chef Boyardee out of a can instead of shuffling around as a reanimated corpse.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” you muse. “So you agree we’re going to get off this tower somehow.”

Rio sighs and whistles a morose tune: what a shame. “You should have gone out with that Marine at Corpus Christi.”

You frown, repentant, wistful. There’s nothing on the horizon except fields and trees and black storm clouds of crows taking flight. “I was afraid of making a mistake.”

“And now look at you. About to die as pure as Pope Francis.”

“How did this happen?! We’re not idiots, we’re goddamn professionals!” You re-holster your M9. You’re still wearing your uniforms from when you went AWOL, stealing away from Saratoga Springs like rats from a sinking ship.

“I’ll tell you exactly how this happened. You let that loser Parker come with us even though I knew it was a bad idea—”

“I couldn’t just leave him there! He started crying!”

“And he had one job, which was to check the oil in the Humvee, and clearly he failed because…” Rio glances at his watch. “Approximately four hours ago, the engine started smoking and the whole thing died on us, so we had to get out and walk, like we’re pioneers or some shit, and then that hoard down there came out of nowhere, and the only place left to go was up. Freaking Parker. I could murder that guy.” An awkward pause. “I mean, the zombies beat me to it. But still.”

“He had two jobs. He was also carrying the extra ammo.”

“Don’t remind me.” Rio isn’t messing around with his M9 anymore. He’s contemplating it as the sun hovers just past noon, hot and shadowless. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Two.”

“Good. Don’t use them.”

You look at him, this man you’ve known for over four years, this man you’ve traveled the world with. You’ve already gone so much farther than Oregon together. How is it possible that what was once a six hour flight is now a month-long journey that might kill you? “It’s not over yet, Rio.”

“Remember what you promised me.”

His hushed voice in the moonlit indigo of the Humvee the night you left Saratoga Springs: Don’t let me die alone. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to make it to Oregon.” Then you grin, sweltering summer air breathing over you, humid, heavy, the screeching of insects in the trees. “But if it comes to that, I’d be happy to shoot you first.”

Rio smiles as the zombies below growl and claw at the steel framework of the transmission tower. Flesh peels off their fingers until you can see the gore-stained white of their bones. “Don’t miss.”

“I rarely do.”

“Do you have any more packs of Cheddar Whales in your pockets or—?” He cuts off as he spots something in the distance. His eyes go wide, his jaw drops open. “What…what is that?!”

It’s an SUV, massive, dark blue, rumbling across the field in a dust storm of displaced earth. It’s headed straight towards you. There is someone standing up through the sunroof, short dark hair that whips wildly in the wind, binoculars. You can hear the engine revving and, faintly, Kanye West’s Gold Digger. As the SUV nears the tower, Sunroof Kid ducks inside and closes the hatch.

Rio explodes into hysterical, rapturous laughter. “Oh my God, we’re saved! We’re not going to die up here! Oh, thank you, Jesus, thank you. I’m never going to jack off on Sundays again.”

The SUV, still accelerating, plows through the mob of zombies. Severed limbs go flying; bones crunch and snap. There’s a woman driving, you can see now through the slightly tinted windows. She puts the monstrous vehicle and reverse and does another pass. Zombies paw futilely at the sides of the SUV, a Chevy Tahoe, as it turns out. They smack their open, soggy palms on the windows; they gnaw and lick at the bumpers and the wheel wells. The Tahoe circles to regain speed, the engine growling, a bear, a dragon, and barrels into the remaining ambulatory zombies. The hoard is now largely incapacitated. Rio is cheering and clapping his hands.

The Tahoe’s doors open, and your rescuers appear. There are two men wielding baseball bats: one with long dark curly hair, the other tall and blonde, and there’s something wrong with his face, the left side, though you are too far away to see clearly. They move rapidly through the battlefield of felled, moaning bodies, swinging their bats and crushing skulls. There’s another blonde guy, shorter, softer, pink with sunburn, wearing plastic sunglasses and a teal polo with a popped collar. He’s spinning a golf club in his right hand. He is followed out of the Tahoe by one last blonde, spindly and swift, stalking the perimeter with a compound bow, a quiver of arrows secured to his belt. Rio is singing along to Gold Digger, drumming his fists on the steel beams.

“Now, I ain’t sayin’ you a gold digger, you got needs

You don’t want a dude to smoke, but he can’t buy weed

You go out to eat, he can’t pay, y’all can’t leave

There’s dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves…”

The driver wriggles out of the Tahoe with some difficulty; she is seven or eight months pregnant. “Stay in the car,” Madame Driver tells someone inside as she slams the door shut. She’s holding a hammer and sets about euthanizing the zombies still squirming on the ground and gnashing their cracked teeth at her.

Golf Club says: “Jace, bro, that’s so embarrassing. You’re gonna let her do that?”

Curly—or, rather, Jace—shrugs. “Exercise is good for the baby.”

All three blondes respond at once in a chorus of appalled disapproval. Interestingly, your rescuers have British accents. From within the Tahoe, someone turns off the CD player. This is wise; noise tends to attract more zombies. Madame Driver, unaffected, puts her hammer through the eye socket of a former Arby’s employee.

Jace flings back: “She likes helping! It would be sexist to tell her she’s not allowed to!”

The Scarred Man looks up at you and Rio and salutes, two fingers glanced off his forehead. You begin climbing down the scalding rungs of the transmission tower to meet them.

“Oh fuck, Aemond, you gotta deal with this,” Golf Club says. He is holding a yowling zombie at arm’s length by the straps of its overalls. It’s tiny, maybe a kindergartener. “You know I can’t kill the little kid ones.”

The Scarred Man, Aemond, turns to him. He’s wearing a maroon Harvard University t-shirt. “You have to learn how to do things yourself. I might not always be around.”

Golf Club scoffs. “As if I’d outlive you.”

“Go on. You can do it,” Aemond says. Behind him, more people are emerging from the Chevy Tahoe: Binoculars Buddy, a slight girl with shifting, watchful eyes, a blonde woman in a billowing sundress and with a burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

Golf Club is still struggling. “Aw, Aemond, man, he’s got light-up sneakers!”

Jace strides over irritably. “Aegon, you’re so fucking useless…” He kicks the miniature zombie to the dirt, raises his bloodied baseball bat, and brings it down on a skull that disintegrates like an overripe Halloween pumpkin. “You’re welcome.”

“Get bit, you poodle.”

Rio hits the ground first, his boots thumping against untamed earth. Aemond sets his baseball bat aside and reaches out to offer assistance as you dangle from a white-hot steel beam. “No,” Rio tells him roughly. “Back up.”

Aemond shows his palms and complies, retreating several paces. Rio helps you down. Now you can see Aemond’s face perfectly. There’s a relatively fresh wound running down the left half of his face, the violent red of burgeoning scar tissue, clear stitches; his eye has been sutured shut. But that’s not why you’re staring at him. His other eye is a focused, hypnotic blue, his short blonde hair disheveled. He keeps touching his chin, a nervous tick. Immediately, there’s something you like about him. He gives you the impression of someone who has gotten very good at hiding how afraid he is. Aemond looks away from your gaze, thinking you’re horrified by his injury. Then, reluctantly, he comes back. There’s forbidden temptation the lines of his ravaged face, a curiosity, a hesitation.

“Thank you for saving us,” you say to your rescuers, tearing your attention from Aemond. It’s not easy. “That was really, really cool of you, and we know you didn’t have to do it. So thanks.”

“Yeah,” Rio adds. “Sorry your Tahoe is covered in guts now.”

Aemond turns to confer silently with his companions, then asks you: “Where are you headed?”

“Odessa, Oregon.”

He nods. “We’re going to California.”

“NorCal,” Jace says, holding his baseball bat across his shoulders. “Bay Area.”

“Are you two together?” Aegon asks.

“Yeah,” Rio says, misunderstanding the question.

“Not like that,” you clarify. “He has a wife and baby, that’s what’s in Oregon.”

“So you’re single,” Aegon says, grinning toothily. His fellow travelers—family? friends? classmates? a combination thereof?—grumble and roll their eyes.

“Um, I mean, yeah, technically…?”

“Aemond’s also single,” Madame Driver informs you, relishing the chaos.

“He’s single but deformed and traumatized,” Aegon says. “I am mentally uninjured.”

You chuckle awkwardly. Your eyes, by their own volition, flick back to Aemond. He peers down at the ground then up at you again, smiling, a little sheepish, a little wicked.

Aegon groans, swinging his golf club around. “Man, come on.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Aemond replies.

“No, it’s just right there, all over your fucked up face.”

Madame Driver feigns a sympathetic frown at Aegon. “How sad. Guess you won’t have anyone to give your syphilis to.”

“I don’t have syphilis,” Aegon tells you. Then, to the others: “I can’t be the only single guy! It’s pathetic!”

“I’m single,” Archery Team says brightly.

“You’re like twelve. You don’t count.”

“I’m seventeen!”

“Are you Army?” Aemond asks you and Rio.

“Navy,” Rio replies. “We were stationed at Saratoga Springs in upstate New York.”

Aemond is fascinated. “You’re deserters?”

“What are you gonna do about it, Brit Boy?” Rio says. Aemond blinks at him. Aegon cackles, drawing huge circles in the air with his golf club.

“Everyone’s deserting,” you explain diplomatically.

“They were going to evacuate the base and send everyone left into New York City,” Rio says. “Fuck that, we’d heard things, we weren’t about to go on some suicide mission. We weren’t even in a combat unit for Christ’s sake, we’re Seabees.”

“You’re what?” Aemond asks, puzzled.

“We do construction. That’s why we were still at the base. If they’re putting us on the front lines, the situation is desperate. I’m not going in the meatgrinder. I’m not gonna be like those Hitler Youth kids sent to Russia.”

Aegon is squinting behind his sunglasses, truly lost. “Huh?”

“We should go west together,” Aemond suggests. He’s attempting to sound casual.

“I thought we didn’t want to travel with strangers, Aemond,” Jace says pointedly, mocking him. “I thought they couldn’t be trusted, Aemond. I thought they might slit our throats and steal our Tahoe in the dead of night, Aemond.”

“We’re useful!” Rio bargains. “We can shoot things!”

Aegon is very confused. “I thought you did construction.”

“Everyone has to go through basic training,” Aemond tells him impatiently, watching you.

“She got the Marksmanship Medal,” Rio says, grinning, proud.

“A lot of people get that,” you demur immediately.

“We can give you guys weapons training,” Rio continues. “You seem…like you probably don’t know about guns. Like you read a lot of books.” He gestures to Aegon. “Except that one.”

Aegon snickers, unoffended, still swinging his golf club around. “I don’t read books. I read maps.”

“Okay, lets do it,” Aemond says. “We’ll stick together across the Midwest and split up before we get to the Pacific. That puts us at ten people, and there’s safety in numbers.”

“Why do you get to make all the decisions?!” Jace demands. “Who signed that fucking contract? I didn’t consent to those terms.”

“Because that’s what Criston told us the last time the phones worked,” Aegon replies smugly. “He said Aemond’s in charge. So he is. If you want to find your way to California on your own, you’re welcome to try.”

“Who’s Criston?” you ask.

“Our fake dad,” Aegon says.

“Oh, your stepdad?”

“No, our mom is still married to our dad, he just sucks.”

“He does suck,” Archery Team confirms.

Rio tells you: “Hey, Chips, you’re standing in a torso.”

“Am I?” You look down. Your boots are buried to the ankles in the rotting gore of a bare midsection with only one limp arm still attached. You step out of it and shake off the bits of decomposing organs. “Gnarly. Thanks.” You spot Parker’s backpack containing the extra ammunition, pick it up out of the dirt, and throw it over your shoulders.

“Chips?” Aemond says. “Like…chocolate chips?”

“No, like woodchips. I’m a carpenter. I mean, I was a carpenter, I guess. That’s what I did in the Navy. Some people call the carpenters Chips.”

“I was an electrician,” Rio says. “So clearly, now that all the power is down, that turned out to be a fantastic career path.” Then he formally introduces himself. “Hi everyone, I’m Rio.”

Aegon perks up. “Oh, like the Rio Grande.”

Rio pretends to be scandalized. “Wow, racist.”

“So racist,” you agree.

Aegon’s chubby pink face fills with horror. “No, wait, I didn’t…um…”

Rio laughs and taps the nametag on his chest, black letters stitched over green camouflage: Osorio.

“His first name’s Bryan,” you say. “But no one calls him that.”

“My mom calls me Bryan. Sophie calls me Bryan.”

Aemond points at his companions, one after the other. “That’s my brother Aegon and my sister Helaena. Jace and Luke are our cousins. Then Baela and Rhaena are their girlfriends. Well, Baela…she’s kind of a fiancée. But there’s no official ring yet.”

Jace says: “Unfortunately, all the jewelry stores were looted on account of the apocalypse.”

“And I’m Daeron,” Archery Team says buoyantly, waving. Then he shields his eyes as he notices something at the edge of the field. “Oh, guys…?”

There are zombies approaching with clumsy, staggering strides, only a few now, but more will follow. That’s the thing; they are in seemingly endless supply. It’s easy to get too comfortable with them, to think of them as slow and mindless, even comical, even pitiful. But they can surprise you. And it only takes one bite to become just like them.

“Time to return to the Tahoe,” Baela announces, waddling towards the driver’s seat. Rhaena climbs in the passenger’s side. The rest of you pile into the back. The SUV has nine seats; Aegon crouches on the floor without being asked to. He’s unfolding a map he pulled from the pocket of his salmon-colored shorts and laying it flat across Rio’s knees so everyone can see. Baela turns the key in the ignition and the Tahoe rumbles to life. You spot a few red gas cans under the seats. If you can’t find more when that runs out—siphoning it out of other vehicles, stumbling across a gas station that is miraculously not drained dry—you’ll be walking, biking, or skateboarding to the West Coast. Or embracing the Amish lifestyle with a horse and buggy.

“We were planning to swing by Fort Indiantown Gap,” you tell Aemond. He twists around in his seat to look at you, that absorbed crystalline blue gaze. “That’s where we were headed before our Humvee broke down. It’s a National Guard Training Center. It’s probably cleaned out like everywhere else, but if it’s not…we might be able to find some guns and ammo there.”

“Where is it?”

“An hour south of here, just outside of Harrisburg.”

Baela is watching Aemond in the rearview mirror. He gives her a nod. “How do I get there?” Baela asks you.

“South on Route 42. Did you see the signs on your way in…?”

“Yup. Got it.” Baela steers the Tahoe across the field, kicking up a vortex of parched soil. She intentionally runs down four zombies before swerving left onto a two-lane road. Then she turns up the volume on the CD player: War Pigs by Black Sabbath. “It’s a mixtape,” she informs you.

Aegon points to southcentral Pennsylvania on a map of the United States of America, highway arteries and local route veins. “We’re here,” he says, sliding around on the floor of the Tahoe as Baela drives. His index finger traces the path; it’s a precarious balance between avoiding the most heavily populated areas and still having access to the necessary trappings of civilization: supplies to scavenge, roads to follow, buildings to take shelter in. “We’ll stop by Fort Indiantown Gap and then head northwest, thread the needle between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, stay south of Detroit and Chicago, cut across Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, that top part of Utah, then go our separate ways in Nevada. Oh my God, it’s just like the Oregon Trail! Do you guys remember that game?! Fording rivers, getting dysentery, hunting bison to extinction?” He starts humming the theme song.

Jace smirks, chomping on a Twizzler. “Hope you don’t die of a snakebite or something. That’d be awful.”

Aegon ignores him and refolds the map. “Rio! Fuck, marry, kill. The last three first ladies before Biden.”

Rhaena says, exasperated: “Aegon, you have to stop asking people that. It’s inappropriate.”

“Oh, easy,” Rio replies. “I’m fucking Laura Bush.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Aegon gives him a high five.

“And then I have to marry Michelle.”

“You gotta.”

“Which means Melania gets the grape Flavor Aid.”

“It’s the only logical answer.”

“I’d fuck Melania,” Jace says.

“Of course you would, you sick, sick man,” Aegon mutters, rolling down a window and sticking his head out like a golden retriever, his sunglasses still on, his blonde hair flapping in the wind. There’s a tattoo in black ink on his forearm, you notice for the first time: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fort Indiantown Gap is a ghost town like a gold seam emptied, an oil well run dry, a collapsed coal mine. There’s no central armory but instead a series of arms rooms, one for each unit. Every single scrap of lethal metal is gone: no pistols, no rifles, no grenade launchers or machine guns, no ammo, not even pocketknives, although you do find clean PT uniforms for you and Rio to change into, t-shirts and running shorts and sneakers. Clothes are surprisingly difficult to acquire now. Most stores have either been looted or overrun by zombies, and Amazon is tragically no longer delivering. You can break into houses that seem abandoned, but then you have to hope the people who lived there just so happened to be your size and also aren’t waiting inside to eat you. It’s not usually a wise gamble.

You study Aemond and his companions as you move through the base clearing buildings, you and Rio with loaded M9s in your holsters and clutching borrowed baseball bats; gunshots are best avoided if possible so as not to attract unwanted attention. Aemond and Jace take point, almost always; Aegon hovers on Aemond’s blind left side, wagging his golf club around, occasionally slapping Aemond’s shoulder to remind him he’s there. Daeron prowls at the back and on the periphery. Baela pretends she isn’t struggling to keep up. Luke and Rhaena are the lookouts. Helaena fills her burlap messenger bag with small treasures you don’t even notice her accumulating: bottles of Advil, batteries, lighters, pens, tweezers, Band-Aids, Uno cards. You encounter only three zombies, easily decommissioned. Fort Indiantown Gap must have been evacuated weeks ago. You wonder what pointless battles her soldiers died in. Everyone knows the dead have won.

What the abandoned base lacks in weaponry it makes up for in food. You find a chow hall with an untouched kitchen, a wealth of shelf-stable delicacies: chili, saltine crackers, applesauce, fruit cocktail with bright red gems of cherries, peanut butter, strawberry jelly, green beans, carrots, peas, beets, tuna fish, chicken noodle soup. You feast—a Thanksgiving, a Last Supper—then settle into the barracks next door as the sun begins to set. There are plenty of bunkbeds and a closet full of pillows and sheets. Someone always has to be up to keep watch; Daeron and Jace immediately go to sleep so they can get some rest before they are shaken awake sometime around 2 or 3 a.m. Baela says she’s going to lie down for a minute and almost immediately begins snoring. Helaena makes silent amendments in her notebook; she keeps an inventory of everything the group has, needs, or wants.

Outside, Rio and Aegon are engaged in a spirited game of Uno. Luke is sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Tahoe with his binoculars. Rhaena is beside him softly reading a book out loud: The Hunger Games. Aemond is on a wooden bench on the front porch of the barracks, watching the sun sink into the west. When he notices you, he seems pleased. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m sorry we wasted your gas to come here.”

“No, it was a good idea. It was worth a shot. And now we have a safe place to sleep tonight.” His eye drops lower, his scarred brow crinkles in concern. “What happened to your hands?”

“My hands?” In the haze of the adrenaline, you didn’t even notice. Your palms are blistered, swollen and stinging. “Oh. It was the transmission tower. The steel beams got really hot while we were up there. I’ll be okay.”

“Let me bandage them. You don’t want to get an infection.”

“Really, I’m fine, I shouldn’t inconvenience—”

“Sit down,” Aemond insists. You take a seat on the bench while he goes to the Tahoe to fetch a black nylon bag about the size of a briefcase. Rio casts you a furtive, crafty grin. It’s nothing, you mouth back, more to convince yourself than him. Your pulse is thudding in your ears; your cheeks are warm. You haven’t felt like this since you almost agreed to go on a date with that Marine you met at Corpus Christi, where your battalion had been dispatched to build a series of new airplane hangars. Aemond returns to the bench and begins wiping down your palms with antiseptic. “Sorry if this stings.”

It does, but you’re grateful for the distraction. “It isn’t too bad.”

“You’re not from Oregon.” He’s noticed your accent.

“Kentucky,” you confess.

“You aren’t making a stop at home before traveling west?”

“Why would I want to go back there?”

Aemond looks at you uncertainly; he can’t tell if you’re joking. You like the way his voice goes quiet when it’s just the two of you. You like the way he barely shows his teeth when he talks, like he’s keeping secrets.

After a moment, as the sky begins to turn to orange and pink and lilac, you continue. “People join the Army for a paycheck and a place to sleep, free college, health insurance. People join the Marines to prove they’re the best. People join the Air Force because they want to be in the military but think they’re too smart for grunt work. And people join the Navy to get away from home. I wanted to get far, far, far away.”

Aemond smiles. “Are you far enough yet?” He doesn’t mean by miles. He means the fact that the world will never be the same. Now he’s coating your hands in a thick white ointment, cool and blissful.

“I was afraid of so many things, and now none of them matter.”

“We all have brand new things to be afraid of.” He gets a roll of gauze and begins to wrap your palms, careful to keep your fingers and thumbs unencumbered.

“Aemond?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to your face?”

He shrugs. He’s trying not to be resentful about it; he can’t change it anyway. “We were scavenging supplies from a Home Depot. We had to board up the house and wait until things…got quieter and it was safe to travel out of Boston.” And by got quieter, he means that the initial wave passed, the zombies began to wander out of the cities and disperse, the survivors were hunkered down and not participating in gunfights or Vikings-style pillaging in the streets. “A piece of sheet metal fell on me from the top shelf. Aegon and Jace dragged me home, they thought I was dying.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. Who treated it?”

“I did.”

You can’t disguise your shock. “You…you stitched up your own face?”

He smirks, finishing the bandages on your hands. “I was in medical school before all this.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“I was an intern. So definitely not a doctor, but the closest thing to one I had access to. And I had taken some things from the hospital when everything went to hell. So I got a little mirror, and I lidocained myself very generously, and I started suturing.”

You don’t know what to say. His eye?? He stitched his eye shut?? “I mean…you did a great job.”

“I’m aware I look like Frankenstein, but I guess it’s better than not being here at all.”

“No, seriously. You look amazing, Aemond.”

He stares at you, bewildered. You realize how bizarre it must sound. You both start laughing as Aemond packs his supplies back into his medical kit. He touches his fingertips to his chin a few times—restless, meditative—then stands to return inside the barracks. “I’m…going to go check on Helaena.”

“Yeah. Cool. See ya.” You don’t watch him leave. This takes intentional effort.

Seconds pass anonymously: no time you need to be anywhere, nothing late, nothing early, no television premiers, no football games, no State Of The Unions, no time zones to do mental math over. You aren’t even sure what day it is. The earth has erased your invisible prisons. Now all that remain are the real ones: weather, terrain, disease, predators.

There is the creaking of weight on the porch steps. You warn him: “I’m not interested in your commentary.”

Rio winks as he says: “Maybe you won’t die a virgin after all.”

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ GAME CATERERS X SVT ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 3-1.

Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 3-1! Here we are officially continuing the music quiz and finishing it off with the prizes that would ultimately give PD Na a mental breakdown.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ game caterers masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The atmosphere inside the room was electric, a mix of anticipation and playful rivalry buzzing through the air as SEVENTEEN sat in their teams, waiting for the next round of the music quiz to begin. The members exchanged glances, some quietly strategizing while others leaned back, eyes narrowing as they mentally prepared for whatever challenge PD Na would throw their way.

There was a lightness in the air despite the competitive edge— laughter still echoed from the last round, and every so often, someone would recall a funny moment, reigniting the chorus of chuckles and banter among them.

The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly as PD Na recapped the scores, setting the tone for the remainder of the game. In the lead were Seungkwan and Hoshi, their playful but determined dynamic propelling them to first place with an impressive four points. It was clear that their synergy, honed through years of performing together, had given them the edge in this competition.

Trailing behind in second place were several teams, all locked in with two points.

Mingyu and Jeonghan, are known for their mischievousness and quick thinking. Across from them, Dino and Wonwoo sat more relaxed. Vernon and Minghao, typically laid-back, remained composed but their eyes carried a hint of competitiveness, quietly content with their steady performance thus far. Meanwhile, Luna and Joshua, the game’s unexpected dark horses, exchanged soft smiles. Their comfortable teamwork had earned them two points as well, keeping them neck and neck with the other second-place teams.

Dokyeom and Jun, sitting at one point, seemed eager to climb higher. While they weren’t at the top, the energy between them suggested a duo that could quickly catch up if given the right moment.

At the bottom of the rankings sat Woozi and S.Coups, the strategic but luckless duo who had yet to score a point. Despite their low standing, Woozi’s calm demeanor and S.Coups’ reassuring presence suggested they weren’t overly fazed by the current situation.

As the 14th round of the music quiz began, a soft, melancholic tune flowed through the speakers, causing an immediate stillness in the room.

[Different vibe from previous questions]

The members, once brimming with energy and excitement, sat back in their seats, their expressions turning puzzled as the slow, emotional melody settled in. Heads turned, eyes darted from one face to another as they searched for any hint of recognition. The usual spark of confidence and enthusiasm from previous rounds dimmed slightly, replaced with uncertainty.

Luna, sitting beside Joshua, leaned in with a light sigh, her brows furrowed in thought. “Wow, I already don’t know,” she murmured to him, shaking her head slightly, her voice reflecting a mix of awe and confusion. Joshua mirrored her expression, just as lost as the rest of the group.

The room was quiet except for the gentle hum of the song, as everyone seemed to sit in a trance, trying to grasp any familiar note or lyric.

A few more notes passed, deepening the haze of uncertainty. Suddenly, S.Coups stood up from his seat, raising his hand confidently and breaking the silence. His voice rang out with their team’s slogan, “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him!” His words carried a tone that often characterized his competitive side.

PD Na smiled, pointing toward him and repeating the slogan with a chuckle, “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him.”

With newfound confidence, S.Coups confidently stated, “Lim Young Woong,” naming the artist.

PD Na nodded, gesturing for Woozi to take over. “1, 2, 3…” The countdown began, and all eyes shifted to Woozi, whose face froze in genuine surprise as the pressure built.

“‘I Love You’,” Woozi blurted out, his voice trailing off with hesitation.

[Confessing out of the blue]

“Wrong!” PD Na declared, the abrupt response cutting through the tension.

S.Coups let out a soft chuckle before wrapping his arms around Woozi in a lighthearted hug, teasing him for getting caught off guard.

Dokyeom quickly stood up, followed by Jun, the two determined to give it a shot. Dokyeom called out their team’s slogan, “I Get Worked Up and Lose My Temper Easily!” PD Na pointed toward them, waiting for their answer.

“Lim Young Woong,” Jun said calmly, his tone measured.

“‘When It Rains’,” Dokyeom followed with the title, his voice hopeful.

“Wrong!” PD Na replied without missing a beat, causing a wave of laughter to ripple through the room. Some of the members chuckled, especially at Dokyeom’s response.

“What’s that?” Seungkwan laughed from his spot, finding amusement in the randomness of Dokyeom’s guess.

[That's the lyrics]

“What is it?” Dokyeom muttered to himself, still processing his own answer as he sat back down.

Silence fell once again as they continued listening to the song, the first lyrics gently filtering through the air.

Jeonghan remained seated but raised his voice, calling out their team slogan, “Burt and Fart,” he said dryly, his expression unreadable. PD Na pointed to them, signaling for their answer.

“Lim Young Woong,” Mingyu said, leaning slightly forward, his voice filled with certainty.

“‘Trust Me Now,’” Jeonghan added smoothly, confident in his guess.

“That’s so close. Wrong,” PD Na said, shaking his head, causing both Jeonghan and Mingyu to freeze in shock. Their mouths opened slightly in disbelief, the closeness of their answer leaving them stunned.

Vernon, sensing an opportunity, stood up with renewed determination, raising his hand and calling out his and Minghao’s slogan. “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” he declared with vigor.

“Lim Young Woong,” Minghao said, his voice cool and composed.

“‘Trust In Me,’” Vernon added confidently.

“You got it!” PD Na exclaimed, excitement in his tone as he confirmed their answer.

Vernon and Minghao erupted in delight, moving to the center of the room to celebrate their success with an impromptu dance, their grins wide and full of victory.

Jeonghan, still processing how close his answer had been, let out a scoff of disbelief, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of how near he had been to getting it right.

[He knew it, but he got it wrong]

Luna, lounging comfortably in her seat, caught the moment from across the room. She pointed toward Jeonghan, a teasing smile on her lips as she chuckled softly.

“He’s really disappointed,” she giggled to herself, knowing Jeonghan’s competitive nature all too well.

[Bunny finds the other bunny funny]

At the sound of her voice, Jeonghan turned his head in her direction, his fingers still pinching the bridge of his nose. He scrunched his face at her playfully, his expression a mix of playful annoyance and affection, causing Luna to beam back at him with a cheeky smile, their small interaction unnoticed by most but filled with the usual warmth and banter between them.

Seungkwan, in typical fashion, broke the momentary silence with his witty remark, “It’s a diverse genre,” his voice carrying a playful note as he glanced at the others, earning a few more chuckles around the room.

Meanwhile, Vernon and Minghao stood at the center, the soft, slow song they had just guessed still playing in the background. The energy shift was palpable, and the two members awkwardly exchanged glances, unsure how to match the mood of the song with the high-energy dancing they were used to.

“How do we dance to this?” Minghao asked Vernon, his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at his partner, his voice carrying both humor and genuine curiosity.

[Embarrassed]

The two simply stood there for a few seconds, unmoving, which only added to the comedic effect.

PD Na and the other members couldn’t help but laugh at the awkwardness unfolding before them. S.Coups, always ready to comment on the ridiculousness of the situation, broke into laughter. “What are they doing?” he asked, shaking his head in amusement.

Luna, sitting comfortably but with a teasing grin tugging at her lips, decided to step in. “Start dancing,” she called out, her voice carrying just enough authority to make the others turn toward her.

Minghao, in true playful spirit, took the hint and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, stepped forward and hugged Vernon as if they were slow dancing, moving them slightly from side to side.

[Let's just hug]

Their exaggerated, awkward slow dance drew more laughter from the group, with some members doubling over at the sight. But then, an idea sparked in Luna’s mind. She straightened up in her seat, eyes locked onto Joshua, and without a second thought, gently nudged him forward.

“Go do it,” she said, her voice low and mischievous, and Joshua immediately knew what she meant.

Without hesitation, he jumped to his feet and made his way to the front of the room, his movements deliberate. As soon as he reached the center, he broke into the familiar meme dance he’d performed earlier, arms and legs moving in the same exaggerated manner that had sent the members into fits of laughter during the previous round.

[Crazy Joshua appears]

[Taking the center]

Vernon, being the first to spot him, pointed in his direction and burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking as he watched Joshua’s antics. The rest of the group quickly followed suit, laughter erupting as they saw the ridiculous dance re-emerge.

[Joshua the old man]

Luna was up on her feet, phone in hand, already recording the moment, her voice ringing out above the laughter as she cheered her teammate on.

“Good job, Shua! Good job!” she called, unable to hide the pride in her voice.

The sight of her acting like a proud mom, recording her teammate’s exaggerated moves, only made the moment even more humorous. The other members pointed and laughed at her too, finding the entire situation thoroughly amusing, especially since Luna and Joshua seemed so determined to claim the ‘Most Hip Player’ title, no matter how ridiculous it was.

As the song finally came to an end, the room calmed, and Joshua made his way back to his seat, high-fiving Luna as she tucked her phone back into her pocket, still chuckling.

“You’re really good at that,” she remarked, her voice filled with amusement, earning a laugh from Joshua, who shrugged in response, clearly enjoying the moment.

The members, still recovering from their fits of laughter, began to compliment Joshua for his impromptu performance.

“Good job, Joshua,” Seungkwan said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’ll trust Joshua from now on,” Woozi added, the lingering grin on his face showing just how much he’d enjoyed the spectacle.

“Just trust Joshua,” S.Coups chimed in, his tone both sincere and playful.

“Joshua, that was exactly the same,” Seungkwan noted, referring to the meme dance Joshua had perfectly replicated.

“I know. He’s good at copying the dance,” Dino added, his voice filled with admiration for Joshua’s commitment.

[Maybe too much...]

[15th question]

The next song began playing, and instantly, the room was filled with chaos. The first note hadn’t even fully registered before three teams sprang up from their seats, hands shooting into the air as their slogans echoed through the room almost in perfect sync.

“Burp and Fart!” yelled Mingyu, his voice booming with enthusiasm.

“Drink Less And Talk More!” Dino shouted, barely a millisecond behind, raising his hand with equal intensity.

“Go Overboard For Show!” Hoshi followed up, screaming as if his life depended on it.

[Gold, silver, bronze]

Luna sat in her seat, completely baffled as she watched the flurry of movements and loud slogans around her. Her eyes darted from one team to another, her face scrunched in confusion. “What is happening?” she muttered to herself in awe, having no idea what the song was.

But despite all the energy and near-simultaneous responses, PD Na acknowledged Mingyu’s group first, pointing at him. “Starting with Mingyu. 1, 2, 3.”

[Team Mingyu and Jeonghan has the chance]

“EXO!” Mingyu answered confidently, before gesturing toward Jeonghan, who still remained seated, appearing completely unfazed by the chaos around him.

“‘Lovesick,’” Jeonghan said, his tone so casual it was as if he couldn’t be bothered.

Mingyu, now looking at Jeonghan in slight disbelief, blinked before turning toward him. “You said it was ‘Lovesick,’” Jeonghan muttered, simply raised an eyebrow.

“Loveshot,” Mingyu corrected his teammate.

[HYBE singers keeps mixing up SM and YG]

The second Jeonghan said the wrong answer, the room exploded. Other teams immediately tried to seize the opportunity to steal the guess, their hands shooting into the air and their voices overlapping with loud yells.

“‘Lovesick,’” Luna chuckled, clearly amused by Jeonghan’s misstep. She quickly raised her hand and called out her team’s slogan with a grin. “We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying!”

However, Vernon was faster, his voice cutting through hers as he repeated their slogan over and over since Jeonghan’s mistake. “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” he yelled, his hand shooting up as he claimed his team’s chance to steal.

[Stealing the answer]

PD Na, clearly entertained by the frantic energy in the room, acknowledged Vernon and Minghao, pointing at them. “Yes?”

“EXO,” Minghao said, setting the foundation for Vernon’s confident answer.

“‘Love Shot,’” Vernon declared, his voice filled with certainty.

“You got it!” PD Na exclaimed, confirming their answer as the room erupted into applause and cheers for the winning team.

Minghao and Vernon made their way up to the front, the unmistakable beat of EXO’s ‘Love Shot’ now taking over the room. They both broke into the choreographed dance, moving in sync with the song, drawing impressed whistles and cheers from the other members.

Luna, still seated, chuckled under her breath as she watched the performance unfold. She turned her head slightly and, without thinking, her gaze landed on Jeonghan, who was seated a few seats away. Her smile widened as she leaned toward him, giggling softly. “‘Lovesick’ was amazing,” she teased, her voice low enough for only him to hear.

Jeonghan, as attuned to Luna as always, heard her despite the noise. He turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers, and with that signature nonchalant and flirty smirk, he mouthed, “Wait until later.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her cheeks heating up as his words settled in. Unable to resist the playful energy between them, she smiled back and quickly formed a heart with her fingers before making a finger gun and shooting through the heart, mimicking the ‘Love Shot’ move in her own playful interpretation.

Jeonghan caught it immediately, his smirk turning into a full grin as he winked at her, their shared moment fleeting but charged with their usual playful chemistry.

Their attention turned back to Minghao and Vernon, who were still dancing to the song, the other members cheering them on. But Luna’s amusement was short-lived as she spotted movement beside her. Joshua, with his mischievous grin already in place, had left his seat and was heading to the front.

“There he goes,” Luna muttered, watching him with growing amusement.

Sure enough, Joshua, ever the entertainer, started dancing his ridiculous meme dance from earlier, completely disregarding the original choreography. His exaggerated movements sent waves of laughter through the group, and Vernon, the first to notice Joshua’s antics, pointed at him, laughing loudly.

[Joshua appears again]

Dokyeom and Seungkwan couldn’t help themselves either, running up front to join Joshua, their bodies mimicking his wild movements as they laughed together.

The energy in the room spiked, and with the song being ‘Love Shot’, Joshua added his own twist, pretending to pour a drink and do a shot, further emphasizing the ridiculousness of his dance. The members doubled over in laughter, barely able to stay upright as they clapped and cheered him on.

[It's the love shot]

[We can't rememberthe original dance anymore]

Luna sat back in her seat, thoroughly entertained, her chuckles mixing with the laughter around her as she watched her teammate perform without a care in the world. “You’re on another level, Joshie,” she complimented Joshua, her voice cool and amused, a proud smile on her face.

As the song drew to a close, the members slowly made their way back to their seats, still chuckling at the absurdity of what had just happened.

“Love shot? Literally?” Seungkwan quipped, shaking his head in disbelief at Joshua’s wild interpretation.

“That’s what it means by a little crazy Joshua,” PD Na said, chuckling softly as he glanced at Joshua, clearly entertained.

“Yes,” Luna and Joshua both nodded, their voices in unison, perfectly synced as they agreed without hesitation.

[Is he really only a little crazy?]

PD Na, still laughing softly, gestured toward Vernon and Minghao. “Team Earrings doing better than expected.”

Vernon, clearly still in good spirits, added, “I waited for Jeonghan to get it wrong.”

[They answered 2 questions by chance]

“And Jeonghan never lets you down,” PD Na teased, causing a ripple of laughter to fill the room again.

Jeonghan, in response, gave a lazy nod, unfazed by the jab, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

[He always gets it wrong]

[16th question]

The next round began, and as the first beats of the song echoed through the room, Woozi and S.Coups were suddenly on their feet, hands raised high in the air. In perfect sync, they yelled their team slogan: “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him!”

[Shouting out loud]

Their outburst stunned the room, every member blinking in shock. Woozi and S.Coups had yet to score any points in the game, and the fact that they were now claiming the next song was a surprise to everyone.

Even PD Na seemed slightly amused as he pointed at them, ready to give them a chance.

“Woozi and S.Coups?” PD Na raised his brows in acknowledgment, then began counting down. “1, 2, 3.”

“INFINITE,” Woozi said confidently, naming the artist without hesitation.

PD Na turned to S.Coups next and repeated the countdown. “1, 2, 3.”

“I was going to say that,” S.Coups chuckled, turning to Woozi with a grin, knowing full well he hadn’t prepared a guess beyond the artist.

['I Was Going To Say That' by INFINITE]

“Wrong,” PD Na announced, and the room erupted into laughter. S.Coups, still chuckling, pulled Woozi into a playful hug as they shared in their defeat.

“What are you doing?” Woozi asked him, laughing as they sat back down.

Before the laughter could settle, Hoshi shot up from his seat, his loud voice cutting through the noise. “Go Overboard For Show!” he yelled, as he raised his hand dramatically.

[Taking the chance]

Seungkwan stood beside him, ready to seize the opportunity. “They can never get it,” he said with a grin, his eyes gleaming with confidence.

PD Na acknowledged them, counting down once more. “1, 2, 3.”

“INFINITE,” Hoshi answered confidently, naming the artist.

“‘Be Mine,’” Seungkwan followed, nailing the title.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, his voice lost under the wave of cheers that followed.

Hoshi and Seungkwan walked confidently to the front, their heads held high as the familiar beat of ‘Be Mine’ blasted through the speakers. Without missing a beat, they broke into the iconic choreography, dancing with smooth precision while singing along.

[B and S dance]

Dokyeom, still seated, joined in vocally, singing from his chair, his voice loud and melodic as it blended with the music.

[S sings]

Meanwhile, S.Coups, despite his earlier mistake, half-heartedly danced from his seat, lightly mimicking the choreography while still chuckling about their failed attempt.

As Seungkwan and Hoshi danced, the energy in the room soared, but just as Seungkwan prepared himself for his favorite rap part, something unexpected happened. The crew had used an edited version of the song without the rap section. As Seungkwan started the rap, “‘Oh, if we fight… Mine,’” he stopped short, realizing the music had moved past the rap part entirely.

[It's okay. That went well]

Laughter erupted from the members and PD Na, but Seungkwan didn’t miss a beat. He seamlessly switched back to singing, laughing through the moment as they continued the performance.

[He was flustered for a second but he gets ready for the rap again]

Determined, Seungkwan waited again, hoping for the rap section to come up in the song. He prepared himself once more, “‘If we fight… Do you hear me?’” he rapped, only for the section to skip once again, causing the room to burst into laughter for a second time.

By the time Hoshi and Seungkwan finished, the room was buzzing with laughter and applause. The two of them walked back to their seats, clearly pleased with their performance despite the humorous hiccups.

“The rap is the highlight,” Seungkwan said, still grinning as he sat back down. “That wasn’t on,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Good job,” Minghao complimented them, nodding appreciatively.

“They’re very good,” Mingyu chimed in, clapping along with the others.

“No one can beat them,” Luna said, her voice soft but amused as she leaned back in her chair, watching the exchange.

“I need an explanation,” PD Na started, turning his attention back to S.Coups. “S.Coups, what happened there?”

S.Coups blinked in silence for a moment, clearly defeated by the whole situation, before Woozi chuckled beside him. “What was it that you said?” Woozi teased. “‘I was going to say that,’” he mimicked, his smile wide.

“All I thought about was INFINITE,” S.Coups admitted with a laugh, shaking his head at himself.

PD Na, still grinning, pointed at S.Coups. “It seems you knew the dance too,” he said, having noticed S.Coups dancing along earlier from his seat.

“When we were trainees, we practiced it with Hoshi,” S.Coups explained, pointing at himself and Woozi.

“Hoshi, Woozi, and S.Coups practiced together,” Wonwoo chimed in from his seat, nodding toward the trio.

“So it’s like, I practiced it, but I don’t remember the title,” PD Na said, clearly entertained by their situation.

“It was finally something I know, so I said INFINITE,” Woozi added, laughing softly at how they had still managed to get it wrong despite their knowledge.

“I think S.Coups is having short-term memory loss,” PD Na joked, his tone light and teasing. “Since the Character Quiz, his brain is not functioning.”

“I had a mental breakdown at the time,” S.Coups admitted, grinning as the members laughed around him.

“We need to get at least one,” Woozi said, his voice determined as they prepared for the next round, though there was still laughter in his eyes.

[Next question]

The next round was about to begin, and the members waited in silence, anticipating the next song. As the first beat hit, a flurry of hands shot into the air. Luna, quick on her feet, raised her hand, but Mingyu was faster. Their team slogan was the shortest, after all.

“Burp and Fart!” Mingyu called out, earning laughs from the rest of the group.

“I was faster,” Mingyu said as he stood up, his eyes darting toward Jeonghan, who sat there looking clueless. With his mouth half-closed, Jeonghan looked like he was trying to speak without moving his lips, almost like a ventriloquist.

“What is it?” Jeonghan asked, his eyes wide as he waited for a hint.

[He doesn't know]

Without saying a word, Mingyu discreetly mimicked the hand motion from the choreography to clue Jeonghan in, his movements quick and subtle.

“Mingyu, go. 1, 2, 3,” PD Na prompted, giving him his cue.

“Aespa,” Mingyu said confidently, identifying the artist before turning to Jeonghan. He gave him an obvious hint this time. “The most famous one.”

Jeonghan buffered for a moment, his mind whirring as he tried to piece it together. Then, as if a light bulb went off, he did the hand motion from the dance and said, “‘Next Level.’”

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed.

“Yes,” Mingyu exclaimed in victory as the song began to play.

[The thrilling feeling of success]

The familiar beat of ‘Next Level’ filled the room, and almost instinctively, several members started doing the signature hand motion of the choreography, their movements in sync with the song.

Mingyu grinned, satisfied, and sat back down. Meanwhile, Dino, Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom slowly stood up, their bodies already swaying to the rhythm as they moved toward the center. They began singing and dancing to the choreo, their energy infectious as they replicated Aespa’s sharp movements, the rest of the group watching with amusement.

[They quickly form a line]

Once their little performance was over, they all settled back down, the laughter and buzz of excitement still lingering in the air.

“I had no idea,” Woozi leaned over to S.Coups, shaking his head slightly.

“I didn’t know either,” S.Coups admitted, his voice carrying a note of disbelief. “Am I isolating myself from the world?”

Woozi chuckled and added, “I think I heard the prelude in the presidential election campaign.”

S.Coups burst into laughter, shaking his head as he processed Woozi’s witty comment, the room still buzzing with the energy of the game.

The 18th question loomed, and the members sat in anticipation, eyes locked on PD Na as they waited for the song to start. A familiar beat began to play, and while some of them recognized the tune, they struggled to recall the title. Most of them, including Luna, were completely lost.

Suddenly, Joshua, seated right next to Luna, shot his hand into the air and called out their team slogan.

“We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying,” he declared confidently, earning puzzled looks from the rest of the members. Luna turned to him in alarm, her brow furrowed.

“What? What is it?” Luna muttered, trying to ventriloquize her words so no one else could hear. But Joshua either didn’t notice or forgot they were a team for a moment. He remained oblivious to her confusion.

“Yes?” PD Na called out, waiting for him to answer.

“TEEN TOP,” Joshua responded, but his confidence quickly waned as PD Na shook his head.

“Wrong. That’s not it.”

Luna pouted at Joshua, playfully glaring at him before leaning in. “Discuss with me,” she chastised, though her tone was light, teasing him for his mistake. Joshua laughed, realizing his error, and draped his arm casually over the back of her chair in a silent apology.

Moments later, Mingyu stood up, determined to take his chance. “Burp and Fart!” he exclaimed, turning his focus toward Jeonghan, who had the same confused look Luna wore earlier.

“You don’t know, do you?” Mingyu pointed at Jeonghan, already resigned to the outcome.

Jeonghan blinked lazily, before Mingyu offered his answer with, “Dynamicduo.”

“By Dynamicduo. 1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, waiting for Jeonghan to give the song title.

Jeonghan’s response was nonchalant as if it didn’t matter whether he was right or wrong. “‘PLAYING WITH FIRE.’”

[Calm]

“Wrong. That’s not it,” PD Na declared.

The members erupted into laughter at the sheer audacity of Jeonghan’s wild guess. Jeonghan, unfazed, nodded proudly, as if his incorrect answer was still something to be content with. Meanwhile, Mingyu started pacing in front of the group, his hands on his hips, clearly frustrated and trying to process Jeonghan’s approach.

“Mingyu’s given up,” PD Na laughed, watching the younger member pace like a man in disbelief.

The song continued, the melody filling the room as some of the members bopped their heads along, while others remained completely clueless.

[It sounds familiar]

A few lyrics in, Woozi, ever the strategic player, suddenly raised his hand. “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love and Cherish Him,” he declared, his voice cutting through the room and shocking the members into silence.

[The team with no score raises a hand]

PD Na pointed at Woozi, giving him the floor. “Dynamicduo,” Woozi answered confidently, the other members turning to him and S.Coups, wondering if this could finally be their team’s moment.

But S.Coups, taken aback by Woozi’s sudden decision, blurted out, “Hey, discuss it with me first.”

[The duo falls out]

“Wrong,” PD Na said, sending another wave of laughter through the members as Woozi and S.Coups grinned sheepishly.

The song played on, and Luna and Joshua, still seated, exchanged confused glances as they subtly looked toward their staff. Their stylists and managers stood off to the side, silently mouthing something, presumably the song title.

[Everyone tries to cheat]

“What?” Luna mouthed back at them, trying to decipher the silent communication.

“What is it?” Joshua mimed, equally lost.

Before they could figure it out, Seungkwan shot to his feet, his arm raised high. “Go Overboard For Show!” he shouted, his enthusiasm as loud as ever.

[Professor Boo appears]

“He’s so loud,” Mingyu said, rubbing his ear as he stood near Seungkwan, his expression a mix of amusement and mild annoyance.

“Go Overboard For Show. 1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, waiting for the answer.

“Dynamicduo,” Hoshi called out the artist, the room going silent in anticipation.

“‘Ring My Bell,’” Seungkwan sang, nailing the song title with a proud grin.

“You got it!” PD Na announced, and the room burst into applause and praise.

[They're on another level]

As soon as PD Na confirmed Seungkwan’s answer, the familiar beats of ‘Ring My Bell’ filled the air. Seungkwan and Hoshi wasted no time, stepping forward to claim the spotlight.

[There's no choreography]

Although the song had no official choreography, the two quickly improvised, syncing their moves effortlessly. Seungkwan started first, smoothly gliding into a series of exaggerated, fun dance moves, and Hoshi followed immediately, matching Seungkwan step-for-step with a grin. Their natural coordination and rhythm were undeniable, and even without a set dance to follow, the two were in perfect harmony.

[If Seungkwan dances, Hoshi follows]

From their seats, the other members watched in amusement. Wonwoo, brow raised in curiosity, leaned over to Mingyu. “What’s that dance?”

“It’s J.Y. Park,” Mingyu answered with a grin, recognizing the iconic choreography from another popular artist.

['Groove Back' by J.Y. Park]

As the song continued, Seungkwan and Hoshi danced their way back to their seats, still moving to the beat. The rest of the group clapped for them, impressed by their quick thinking and smooth execution.

[Copy and past to the end]

PD Na, clearly entertained, offered his approval. “It works with the choreography for another song.”

Seungkwan, always full of energy, stood up again, eager to keep dancing. “Yes,” he agreed enthusiastically, continuing to move along to the beat. Hoshi quickly followed, mimicking his movements with equal enthusiasm.

[Go Overboard For Show]

From the side, Vernon, ever the voice of calm and deadpan humor, sighed, “Sit down.”

Seungkwan mock-obliged, dropping into his seat and saying, “Yes,” as if he had been commanded, making everyone laugh.

“Are you a dog?” S.Coups teased, shaking his head as he chuckled.

The group’s laughter died down as PD Na shifted the conversation. “Let’s do an interim check. Team Go Overboard For Show is in the lead,” he said, the declaration greeted with cheers. “Surprisingly enough, Team I Don’t Like Your Earrings is in second place.”

At that, Vernon and Minghao erupted into cheers. “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” Minghao echoed, pointing at his own earrings with a cool, composed air. “I’m getting new ones tomorrow. To something cool,” he added, flashing a smirk that sent the rest of the members into laughter.

[Zero impact]

“To something cool,” Vernon, S.Coups, and Luna parroted, finding his delivery both adorable and hilarious. Minghao’s calm confidence had a way of effortlessly charming everyone.

[For the 19th question]

As the next song was about to start, Luna sat back calmly in her seat, feeling the atmosphere buzzing with anticipation. The familiar beat of the song started to play, and without a second thought, Luna’s hand shot up, pushing Joshua next to her with the other. The two of them, in perfect synchronization, screamed their team slogan with confidence, “We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying!”

PD Na pointed toward them, acknowledging their energy, “Team We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying,” he echoed with a grin.

“Maroon 5,” Luna answered with certainty, the artist immediately springing to her mind.

“‘Sunday Morning,’” Joshua followed up, effortlessly naming the song title.

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, causing a wave of cheers from the team. Luna and Joshua high-fived with both hands, their excitement palpable.

The rest of the members couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly they had answered. After all, this song was Joshua’s go-to track— annoyingly so.

“Of course, they’d get that one,” Seungkwan muttered with a chuckle, making the others laugh in agreement.

Luna nudged Joshua playfully, pushing him toward the front. “Go on, do it,” she urged, laughing.

Joshua, always up for some fun, stood up and dramatically carried his chair with him to the front of the set. He placed it down with a flourish and sat back in it, pretending to strum an invisible guitar as he sang along to the song. Luna cheered him on from her seat, her claps exaggerated for effect.

As Joshua belted out the chorus, the song suddenly stopped mid-note, catching him off guard. He let out a breathy laugh, making everyone around him burst into laughter.

“Do your dance, hurry!” Luna called out, urging him to perform the well-known meme dance that would save him and always got a reaction from the group.

With a grin, Joshua stood up and launched into the ridiculous dance, his body moving in an exaggerated, comedic fashion. The members erupted into laughter, clapping and cheering for him as he played along.

[He dances to no music]

Once his impromptu performance was over, Joshua gave a mock bow before he picked up his chair and returned to his spot next to Luna.

“Good job,” Luna chuckled, giving him a satisfied look, and Joshua couldn’t help but smile back, both of them sharing the moment of playful fun.

As they waited for the next question, the room was filled with an air of anticipation.

[20th question]

Then, a low, deep voice came through the speakers, going, “‘Yeah, yeah,’” followed by the distinct beat dropping into rhythm. In a split second, Hoshi was on his feet, his hand shooting up, as Seungkwan, too, rose from his seat, although with an uncertain expression.

“Go Overboard For Show,” Hoshi announced confidently, his hand still raised high.

PD Na pointed at him, acknowledging, “Hoshi. 1, 2, 3.”

“BTS,” Hoshi answered with absolute certainty.

PD Na turned to Seungkwan, counting down for his turn to guess the song title. “1, 2, 3…”

Seungkwan’s expression turned blank as he realized he had no idea what the title was. His mouth opened, then shut, no words coming out. Silence stretched for a second before PD Na concluded, “Wrong.”

Mingyu stood up immediately, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Burp And Fart,” he called, determined to steal the answer.

PD Na pointed to him, beginning to count down again. “1, 2, 3,”

“BTS,” Mingyu replied confidently, naming the artist without hesitation.

Jeonghan, sitting next to him, threw him a look of disbelief. His brows furrowed, and a sigh escaped his lips. He had planned to answer the artist himself, not knowing the title either, and Mingyu’s confident response had thrown off his plan.

[Why would you say that?]

In an instant, multiple hands shot up around the set, each person shouting their slogans to steal the answer. Luna raised her hand high, determination flashing in her eyes, but Dokyeom, faster than the rest, managed to catch PD Na’s attention first.

PD Na nodded to him, “Your answer. 1, 2, 3.”

“BTS,” Jun answered, his voice steady.

Without missing a beat, Dokyeom followed up with the song title, “‘Run BTS.’”

“He’s right,” Luna muttered to herself as she recognized the song title at last.

“You got it!” PD Na confirmed.

The chorus began to play, and without hesitation, Hoshi jumped up to the front, his energy infectious.

[The leader of Team Performance appears]

Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Jun joined him, standing nearby to cheer him on. Hoshi’s feet hit the beat exactly, and he launched into the precise and high-energy moves of the song’s choreography.

[Getting serious in no time]

Each intense step landed with the rhythm, his movements full of force as he executed the challenging moves. The members clapped and cheered, some of them watching in amazement at how much effort he put into each step.

When he finished, applause filled the set, with Seungkwan even yanking off one of his shoes and tossing it onto the floor in awe.

“I mean, how do you do the challenge for ‘Run BTS’?” PD Na praised, impressed by the performance.

[Producer Na would never get it]

Seungkwan leaned back in his seat, catching his breath as he replied, “He self-teaches the choreography.”

“That was wonderful,” PD Na continued, nodding in appreciation. “It’s not only fun, but I love watching you dancing.”

“Thank you,” Seungkwan said with a slight bow, a smile on his face.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, observing the energy on set. “By now, you should be exhausted,” he noted.

“It’s fun. I’m getting heated up,” Hoshi replied, breathing heavily but smiling brightly.

[It's almost like a fan-meet]

“When we were working on the quiz outside, we were worried about the airtime,” Seungkwan commented, leaning toward Hoshi as they took their seats again.

“I wondered if I answered too many,” Hoshi added with a grin.

Seungkwan chuckled, nodding as he leaned back. “He got too many, and I didn’t get any. So… I’m on a roll here.”

Hoshi looked over, chuckling at the teasing. “I was nervous when they were being funny,” he said, smiling as he glanced over at Seungkwan.

“Right,” Seungkwan replied, nodding along in agreement.

From his seat, Dino looked over with a curious expression, leaning forward slightly. “What’s your team name again?”

Seungkwan looked back, straightening in his seat with pride. “Go Overboard For Show,” he replied, earning a round of laughter from the members.

“That’s our state right now,” he added with a grin, his voice brimming with confidence.

After the laughter died down, Mingyu suddenly let out a deep, exaggerated sigh, his expression filled with pure defeat. His shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of his loss, and he cast a dramatic look around the room, clearly fed up.

[That meant a lot]

Across from him, Luna caught his defeated look and chuckled, pointing at him knowingly. “Gyu-gyu is over it,” she teased, her words instantly earning a round of laughter from everyone around.

PD Na chuckled, observing the playful frustration on Mingyu’s face. “I feel bad for Mingyu. He’s always the first to shout the name,” he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he nodded toward Mingyu.

“But he doesn’t know the answer either,” Jeonghan added lazily from his seat, his finger casually pointing at Mingyu as he spoke. His tone was both light and slightly mischievous.

PD Na raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Jeonghan, “Does he only know the singer?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes,” Jeonghan replied, nodding in mock pity, “And he goes, ‘How do you not know?’” He mimicked Mingyu’s earlier frustrated gesture perfectly, his voice raising to mimic Mingyu’s dramatic disbelief. The impression was spot-on, drawing another round of laughter.

PD Na looked back at Mingyu, clearly entertained by the thought. “He’s blaming you when he doesn’t know either?” he asked, feigning shock.

Mingyu pointed at himself, as if only just realizing he’d been the subject of the conversation. “Me?” He blinked, then deadpanned, “I don’t know either. I’m only pretending to know.”

This admission had everyone laughing even harder, some of them shaking their heads in playful disbelief.

“But you were like…” PD Na trailed off as he raised his hand and exaggeratedly widened his eyes, perfectly imitating Mingyu’s earlier expression of disbelief. It was such an accurate portrayal that even Mingyu couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“He’s just pretending,” Jeonghan commented, his tone dripping with mock exasperation.

“I don’t know either,” Mingyu repeated, shrugging, fully owning up to it now.

“He’s annoying,” Joshua chimed in from next to Luna, his tone playful but firm, his eyes flicking to her as he spoke.

“Super annoying,” Luna agreed, joining in on the teasing as she raised her eyebrows and shot Mingyu a teasing look. The two of them exchanged a glance, clearly enjoying the opportunity to poke fun at him.

S.Coups joined in, grinning as he pointed toward Mingyu. “He is a bad guy,” he added, making Joshua, Luna, and himself laugh even harder at the lighthearted roast session.

[Here comes the question that will summon them]

As they all waited for the next song to play, the room filled with a familiar sense of anticipation. The first few opening instrumentals began to fill the space, and immediately, Mingyu, Luna, and Wonwoo reacted, recognizing the track.

“Burp And–” Mingyu started, his voice loud and eager.

“We Are Too Perfect–” Luna called out at the same time, both of them already competing, but their slogans were abruptly cut off by Dino, who shot up and shouted with more speed, “Drink Less And Talk More!”

[They all shouted at the same time]

With that, both Mingyu and Luna groaned in defeat, their heads hanging as PD Na acknowledged the victory with a grin. “Dino was faster,” he said with amusement, waiting for the team’s answer.

[Dino was the fastest]

“Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Luna of SEVENTEEN,” Dino declared confidently, naming the artists.

“‘Bittersweet,’” Wonwoo followed up, his voice steady and sure.

“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, and the room erupted in cheers. Luna and Mingyu both sighed, exchanging resigned glances — it was their song, after all, but at least one of the trio got it right.

As Dino and Wonwoo moved to the front, Vernon couldn’t help but tease, “You’re good at SEVENTEEN.”

“I think I like SEVENTEEN so much,” Dino responded with a grin, drawing more laughter.

The song continued playing, and as the soft, mellow tones of ‘Bittersweet’ filled the room, Luna began humming along, swaying gently in her seat. Mingyu, ever the performer, was up in his place, eyes closed as he pretended to sing into an imaginary microphone, completely immersed in the moment.

Meanwhile, Dino watched as Wonwoo and Seungkwan started running across the set in a stiff, awkward manner — a playful mockery of Wonwoo’s running in the music video, a beloved inside joke among the members. Their exaggerated movements made everyone burst into laughter, some clapping and hollering at the antics.

[What is this mess?]

Dokyeom, never one to miss out on the fun, quickly stood up and followed suit, doing an even more exaggerated stiff run across the room. “This is how Wonwoo runs,” Dokyeom announced as he ran, sending the room into complete chaos.

The members’ laughter echoed loudly, each of them in stitches at the ridiculous scene unfolding before them. Mingyu, still in his world of performance, remained unaffected by the madness around him, continuing to “sing” his heart out.

As Mingyu neared the end of his verse, he suddenly made his way over to Luna, who was still swaying in her seat, laughing at the chaotic scene in front of her. Mingyu, eyes still closed in concentration, offered his hand to her, making her chuckle softly before she accepted it. In an instant, the chorus started playing, and Luna’s soft voice echoed from the speakers.

Mingyu and Luna swayed together at the front, moving in time with the music. He twirled her around smoothly, both of them lost in the melody as the rest of the room slowly began to calm down from the earlier madness. The chaos gradually died down, and soon, only Luna, Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Dino remained up front.

That’s when Dino, ever the unpredictable one, began improvising a feminine dance to Luna’s verse. His exaggerated, flamboyant movements caught the attention of the remaining trio.

[The dancer appears]

Luna and Wonwoo, both introverts at heart and always on the same wavelength, felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over them. They exchanged a glance, pausing in their tracks as they stared at Dino, concern evident in their eyes.

[The I type don’t know how to react]

The other members noticed this too and immediately pointed at Luna and Wonwoo, laughing at the contrast between Dino’s boldness and the duo’s awkwardness. Meanwhile, Mingyu was still in his own world, completely unaware of what was happening around him.

Finally, Luna and Wonwoo couldn’t take it anymore. They slowly backed away, retreating to their seats, leaving Dino and Mingyu up front to finish off the performance.

Seungkwan, always quick to keep a skit going, made his way over to Dino once more, and the two instantly fell back into their act from earlier. With exaggerated concern, Seungkwan placed a hand on Dino’s shoulder, as though guiding him gently away from the middle of the set.

“I called the cab,” Seungkwan said, his voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear, which made them all start to laugh. “Go home. Take the cab and go home.”

[Turns out he's the drunk from earlier]

Dino, more than willing to play along, gave a little scoff, shrugging Seungkwan’s hand off his shoulder with mock defiance. “I’ll go on my own,” he replied stubbornly, drawing more laughter from the others as he swayed in place, pretending to be tipsy.

“This is no place to dance,” Seungkwan continued, adding a stern edge to his voice as if he was genuinely concerned for his friend.

Dino rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, playing up his character. “I can handle myself,” he said with a wave of his hand, dismissing Seungkwan.

Suddenly, Jun rose from his seat, his expression mischievous, and he reached over to grab their table. With deliberate slowness, he lifted it above his head as if it were an umbrella, and then, in exaggerated steps, made his way to the front. The sight made everyone erupt in laughter, pointing and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” Luna chuckled, watching him in amusement, her eyes bright with laughter.

Seungkwan finally broke character as he turned around and finally spotted Jun, his face instantly filled with feigned confusion. “Who are you?” he asked, playing up his bewilderment.

“Oh, is that an umbrella?” Seungkwan suddenly realized, his mouth dropping open in exaggerated shock.

Jun looked back with a mock scowl, a hint of pretend anger flashing across his face. “Haven’t you seen the music video?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, referencing the ‘Bittersweet’ music video where it was raining. The members howled with laughter, clutching their stomachs as Jun stayed in character, glaring at them all.

“He’s short-tempered,” Joshua noted with a teasing grin, referencing the earlier joke about Jun’s personality flaw.

Dokyeom nodded in agreement, playing along with a serious expression as he looked at Jun. “I told you to keep calm,” he said, his voice filled with mock concern.

“Okay,” Jun sighed, shrugging off the table and carrying it back to its spot with a huff.

As he settled the table back down, Mingyu chimed in, waving a hand as if correcting them. “For your information,” he said, his voice filled with mock authority, “I didn’t put on the umbrella in the music video. Where did that come from?”

The group laughed, the playful banter bouncing around the room as they recalled the iconic video.

“That’s right,” Luna said with a grin, nodding as she remembered it. “He was just drenched.”

“Because it’s raining,” S.Coups and Jun explained in unison, both of them breaking into wide smiles.

The group chuckled at the memory, their laughter echoing around the set.

As the group settled in for the 22nd question, they waited, some tapping their feet and others sitting on the edge of their seats, eager for the next song.

[This will summon everyone again]

The tension lifted as soon as the song began with the opening beat, followed by a familiar vocal shout of “‘BLACKPINK!’”

That single name was enough to have nearly everyone up in an instant, hands raised, voices yelling in excitement, but S.Coups was the quickest to shout their team slogan, his voice booming, “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him!”

“S.Coups was faster,” PD Na announced with a grin, glancing at the stopwatch before he began the countdown. “1, 2, 3…”

“BLACKPINK,” S.Coups declared confidently.

Beside him, Woozi looked slightly confused, his brows furrowed as he searched his memory. PD Na turned to him expectantly, counting down, “1, 2, 3…”

“‘DDU-DU DDU-DU,’” Woozi guessed, but the moment he said it, an eruption of groans and laughter filled the room. Hands shot up in the air as the rest of the members yelled their team slogans, each vying to steal the answer.

S.Coups, playing along with exaggerated disapproval, pretended to slap Woozi’s shoulder. Woozi looked over a small, sheepish smile on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head in defeat. “I don’t know.”

The members continued yelling and waving, eager to get the question back. Among them were Vernon and Minghao, Jun and Dokyeom, Luna and Joshua, and Mingyu and Jeonghan’s teams. Jeonghan, however, was still seated, looking around with mild confusion. He clearly didn’t know the answer but was amused watching the chaos unfold around him.

Mingyu, realizing his chance, shot up, hand in the air, and yelled his team’s slogan, “Burp And Fart!” He immediately turned to Jeonghan, eyes wide with hope as he practically begged with his eyes.

“Alright, Mingyu,” PD Na called out, counting down once again. “1, 2, 3…”

“BLACKPINK,” Mingyu announced confidently.

After a pause, Jeonghan pointed, taking a wild guess, “‘Pink Venom.’”

[He guessed]

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, and Mingyu threw his hands up in celebration, giving Jeonghan a relieved grin as he muttered, “That was right?”

Luna, unimpressed, deadpanned, “I don’t understand why you make Hannie answer the title, Gyu.” Her tone was dry but filled with amusement, and her words made everyone chuckle.

“That’s because he doesn’t know the title either,” Joshua teased her, his own laughter mixing in with the group’s as they watched the two banter.

Suddenly, Dokyeom jumped to his feet, his jacket and mic pack discarded, and he strode to the center of the room with a determined look.

[Entering as if he's possessed]

Everyone’s eyes widened, recognizing the telltale signs. He’d performed this song before at a fan meet, and the members instantly started cheering, their voices overlapping in excitement.

“Kyeomie, show them!” Luna yelled, clapping her hands as she cheered him on.

As the song’s chorus hit, Dokyeom launched into the choreography with a perfect blend of sass and fierce energy, hitting each move as the others clapped and yelled their encouragement. They joined in on the ad-libs in the background, their voices a playful mess of loud notes and laughter as Dokyeom danced.

When the beat dropped, signaling the start of the dance break, Dokyeom went even harder, his movements sharp and filled with exaggerated drama as he embodied the performance with every ounce of his energy. By the time the song ended, Dokyeom lay sprawled across the floor in his final pose, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, a fierce look on his face.

[FYI, DK's in the Vocal Team]

The members erupted into applause, some on their feet, and others clapping and whistling in support. PD Na and the rest of the crew joined in, their own claps echoing through the room as they nodded in approval.

“Awesome,” Dino said, his expression one of genuine admiration.

“I never expected to see that,” Vernon added, grinning as he glanced at Dokyeom, who was still catching his breath.

S.Coups shook his head, his amusement clear as he pointed at Dokyeom. “Put your mic back on,” he said, a touch of fond exasperation in his voice as a staff member rushed forward to help Dokyeom reattach his mic pack.

As everyone settled back into their seats, PD Na gestured toward Dokyeom with a curious look. “How come he’s so good at it?”

“He did it at the fan meet,” Vernon explained, nodding toward Dokyeom.

“He did such a great job that Lee Jung, who created the choreography, posted it on her story,” Seungkwan added with a proud grin, recounting the honor with enthusiasm.

“Good job,” Joshua said with a gentle smile, giving Dokyeom a thumbs-up.

Dokyeom, still catching his breath, chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d still remember the choreography,” he admitted, his tone both proud and surprised.

Luna nodded, a warm smile on her face. “You did so well,” she added.

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s voice piped up, his expression thoughtful as he muttered, “I almost said ‘Black Venom.’”

[That's a movie title]

The group turned toward him, and laughter burst out again, with Luna laughing the loudest. Her giggles turned into high-pitched squeaks, and she leaned over, hiding her face behind Joshua’s back as she tried to catch her breath, her shoulders shaking with each laugh. The sight only made everyone else laugh harder, filling the room with an infectious joy.

As everyone settled down, PD Na glanced at the room with a wry smile, taking note of their barely contained energy. “There are only a few questions left,” he announced, his voice cutting through the air and signaling the nearing end of the game.

[2 questions left]

For a moment, a beat of silence fell over the room as everyone took a breath, eyes trained on PD Na, their anticipation almost tangible. Then, the intro beat of the next song began, filling the area with its rhythmic, pulsing beat.

The very first note had Vernon shooting up from his seat, his hand raised high in the air as he shouted their slogan, “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” His voice carried through the room, drawing immediate attention. Minghao stood beside him, following suit.

PD Na pointed to them, nodding as he began the countdown. “1, 2, 3…”

With a quick movement, Vernon pointed at Minghao, ceding the responsibility. Minghao took a brief pause before answering with a single name, “Jessi.”

A playful look crossed PD Na’s face as he shook his head. “Jessi? Wrong.”

As disappointment flickered across Vernon and Minghao’s faces, Dokyeom was already leaping to his feet, his team slogan ready on his lips. “I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily!” he shouted, his voice brimming with excitement and a competitive edge.

PD Na turned to them, counting down as he had before, “1, 2, 3…”

“BLACKPINK,” Jun answered confidently, the name rolling off his tongue with ease.

Dokyeom jumped in, completing the guess with, “‘BOOMBAYAH!’”

A collective groan echoed as PD Na gave a shake of his head. “Wrong!”

Luna, seated beside Joshua, leaned closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper as she asked, “Do you know?”

Joshua’s brow furrowed in thought before he sighed, “No, I don’t. Do you?”

Luna chuckled, her laughter soft but amused. “Nope.”

Meanwhile, Seungkwan and Hoshi were already up on their feet, bouncing with uncontainable excitement, arms raised high as they yelled their team slogan with almost exaggerated urgency, “Go Overboard For Show!”

Amused by their enthusiasm, PD Na gestured toward Hoshi with a nod. “Let’s start with Hoshi. 1, 2, 3…”

“HyunA,” Hoshi answered confidently, his voice steady.

Seungkwan was quick to follow, his answer sharp and certain. “‘I’m Not Cool.’”

“You got it,” PD Na confirmed with a grin, clapping his hands together in approval.

[This song will summon someone]

Seungkwan and Hoshi wasted no time, both striding to the front of the room with excitement shining in their eyes. As they prepared to launch into the dance, S.Coups’ expression turned pained, a low chuckle escaping him as he realized what was about to happen. He’d performed this dance once before on a show, and the memory seemed to both amuse and mildly torment him.

[As soon as he heard the title, he knew what was coming]

Noticing his reaction, several heads turned to him, their expressions expectant and slightly mischievous. Luna nudged S.Coups, her smile wide and encouraging. “Show them, Coupsie,” she said, her tone sweet but with a touch of teasing.

Beside her, Joshua joined in, leaning forward to gently push S.Coups. “Hurry.”

Dokyeom and Minghao joined the chorus of encouragement, each giving S.Coups a nudge until he found himself being all but pushed to the front, where Seungkwan and Hoshi were already absorbed in the opening moves of the dance.

[Summoned]

As the chorus hit, S.Coups, with his head slightly lowered in shyness, found himself nudged to the middle of Seungkwan and Hoshi. He moved to the beat with a mixture of reluctance and begrudging amusement, his dance moves a bit timid as he tried to follow along.

Meanwhile, Dokyeom was off to the side, his energy unmatched as he threw himself into the dance with wild abandon, each move exaggerated and filled with a contagious enthusiasm.

[Drawing attention]

Eventually, S.Coups shook his head with a shy grin, retreating back to his seat as the crowd clapped for him, clearly entertained by his effort. Dokyeom, however, continued dancing alongside Seungkwan and Hoshi, his energy seeming endless as he threw himself into each step.

When the song finally came to a close, Seungkwan took a step back, gesturing to Dokyeom with an exaggerated shake of his head. “I’m sorry, but why do we have an eel here?” he asked, his expression feigning confusion. “I thought he was an eel.”

Dokyeom broke into laughter as he returned to his seat, amused by the comparison, while the rest of the room burst into chuckles.

“No,” Luna chimed in with a grin, casting a playful glance at Dokyeom. “He’s like those dancing balloons.” She winked at Dokyeom, her smile warm and teasing.

Dokyeom laughed, nodding in agreement, clearly amused by the imagery Luna had painted for him.

Once everyone had settled back down, PD Na looked at S.Coups with a curious expression. “S.Coups?”

S.Coups looked up, slightly taken aback. “Yes?”

PD Na sighed, a hint of exasperation mingled with amusement in his voice. “I don’t even know how many times I’ve asked this question…” He paused for dramatic effect, eyes narrowing slightly. “What happened?”

S.Coups blinked, feigning innocence, his expression blank as he gave a small shrug, pretending not to know what PD Na was referring to. His silence only fueled the laughter around him, everyone clearly entertained by his act of cluelessness.

[Pretending not to know]

Before PD Na could continue, Mingyu leaned forward, clapping his hands as he urged S.Coups. “Do it alone. Come on,” he called out, his voice filled with playful insistence.

“Let’s go!” Dokyeom cheered from the side. “Show us!”

“Show us,” Mingyu echoed, adding to the chorus of encouragement.

S.Coups let out a reluctant sigh, slowly rising from his seat with a resigned smile. He moved to the front, glancing at the crowd as he demonstrated a single dance move, his hand waving in a vague imitation of the earlier choreography.

“This is all I know,” he said with a grin before quickly retreating back to his seat, the crowd erupting into laughter as he settled down, clearly relieved the ordeal was over.

[We demand a challenge]

Everyone was still buzzing from the previous round when Minghao, calm yet a bit on edge, leaned forward with a quick, quiet question. “Is this the last question?”

PD Na gave a small, almost suspenseful nod, his expression relaxed but knowing. “It’s the last one.”

The members perked up at his answer, a collective spark of determination passing through them. There was a shared energy, a silent agreement that this was the round they had to win.

The first instrumental beat hit, ringing through the air with a playful intensity. In an instant, Dino was on his feet, shouting his team’s slogan with a clear, confident voice: “Drink Less And Talk More!”

PD Na acknowledged Dino’s quick reaction and began the familiar countdown, his voice steady as he counted down, “1, 2, 3…”

Dino turned to Wonwoo, passing the responsibility with a simple glance. Wonwoo, already standing, didn’t hesitate. “Apink,” he stated, his voice calm but sure.

PD Na tilted his head, his tone quizzical. “By Apink.”

Dino’s brow furrowed, and he scratched his head thoughtfully, buying himself an extra moment.

Seungkwan, watching him intently, leaned forward, his voice insistent. “Pronounce it clearly. Exact spelling.”

Dino nodded and spoke with renewed certainty. “‘Only One’.”

PD Na gave a small shake of his head, his tone final. “Wrong.”

A disappointed groan came from Dino, and before he could sit back down, Dokyeom’s voice was already ringing through the air, his hand raised in a quick, enthusiastic wave. “I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily!”

PD Na turned to him with a small nod. “Team Worked Up.”

Jun took his cue, lifting his voice smoothly. “Apink.”

Dokyeom didn’t miss a beat, adding immediately, “‘Remember’.”

PD Na shook his head once more. “Wrong.”

Slogans echoed around the room as the members scrambled for their next chance, voices overlapping with their signature calls until Mingyu’s voice cut through with a loud, “Burp And Fart!”

The room stilled as PD Na nodded toward Mingyu, recognizing his turn. Mingyu started confidently, his voice clear. “Apink.”

PD Na gave a nod of acknowledgement as Mingyu glanced toward Jeonghan. Jeonghan answered with a playful grin, his voice measured. “‘NoNoNo’.”

PD Na shook his head, his voice firm. “Wrong.”

Jeonghan gave a small shrug, turning to Mingyu with a playful smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Mingyu shook his head with a smirk, sharing in the humor of their repeated failed guesses.

Still determined, Dino sprang up once more, calling out, “Drink Less And Talk More!”

PD Na gave him a patient look. “You had your chance already,” he reminded Dino gently.

Dino’s shoulders slumped as he sat back down, sulking a little as he folded his arms.

[PANDA is disappointed]

The chorus of the instrumental beat hit, and in that instant, Seungkwan and Hoshi couldn’t resist— they started singing along, their voices playful yet confident. Seeing his teammates so involved, Vernon jumped to his feet, raising his hand. “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” he shouted, signaling their turn.

PD Na nodded, allowing Vernon to proceed. Minghao, standing with a quiet composure, stated, “Apink,” as if he already knew the answer.

With a point, Vernon spelt it out, “‘LOVE.’”

PD Na shook his head. “Wrong.”

Vernon’s expression turned incredulous, and he shook his head in disbelief.

“How could you get that wrong?” Seungkwan stepped forward, his voice steady and playful before he shouted, “Go Overboard For Show!”

[Professor Boo is hereto teach them a lesson]

PD Na pointed at him to go ahead. Hoshi didn’t hesitate. “Apink.”

Seungkwan took a brief, almost dramatic pause before spelling it out. “‘LUV,’” he announced clearly.

PD Na’s face lit up with approval. “You got it.”

Seungkwan didn’t waste a second, breaking into a victorious smile as he turned to Vernon. “Why is it spelled ‘LUV’ when they say ‘love’?” Vernon complained, sounding genuinely perplexed.

Ignoring him, Seungkwan simply walked up to the front with an easy confidence, starting the dance moves in front of Vernon, who couldn’t help but smile in reluctant amusement.

Not far behind him, Dino was warming up, stretching his arms and shoulders, ready to join in the dance. Seungkwan sidled up to him, a mischievous grin on his face as he leaned in close. “Dad,” he began, voice dripping with exaggerated innocence, “let’s go home after this.”

Dino caught on immediately, nodding with a serious expression, fully playing along. “Okay. This is the last one,” he replied, his voice filled with mock resignation.

Seungkwan continued, leaning into the bit with unrestrained glee. “Let’s go after this.”

“Okay,” Dino agreed.

With a small shake of his head, Seungkwan added in a final, dramatic tone, “My dad will stay here for a little more,” leaving Dino alone at the front as he backed away, casting Dino a playful smirk.

S.Coups, watching the whole exchange with an amused grin, called out in encouragement. “Let’s go!” he cheered, clapping his hands together as Dino took his place at the front.

[Prove that you're a big fan of Apink]

As the chorus hit, Dino launched into the dance with a surprising fluidity, each movement sharp and precise, as if he belonged in the choreography. He moved with such ease and energy that he seemed to embody the song’s original charm, each gesture and step filled with a playful dedication that had everyone laughing and clapping.

At one point, Dino spun to the left, locking eyes with the Jimmy Jib camera. Without missing a beat, he began dancing directly toward it, his moves exaggerated as he leaned in closer, earning loud laughter from his audience.

[Where are you going?]

The room erupted into cheers as he then spun to the right side, repeating the same move with the second camera, drawing even louder reactions from the members.

“Dino, good job!” Luna squealed from her seat, clapping her hands together in approval as Dino continued, his focus unwavering, until the chorus ended.

When the music finally faded out, the room filled with applause as Dino returned to his seat, his face flushed but smiling, clearly proud of his performance.

As Dino made his way back to his seat, a grin tugging at his lips, the others clapped him on the shoulder or gave him approving nods.

Dokyeom was the first to speak, eyes bright as he looked at Dino. “This is a really good song,” he said, the words heartfelt as he nodded along, clearly still humming the tune in his head.

PD Na smiled, nodding in agreement before raising a curious eyebrow at Dino. “Did the dance by the real fan,” he said with an amused glint in his eye. “Why didn’t you get it at first?”

From the seat next to Dino, Wonwoo gestured toward him, nodding knowingly as he interjected. “He said another track, am I right?”

Dino nodded quickly, his expression earnest as he explained. “Yes, it was in the other album.”

Seungkwan, leaning forward with a playful smile, couldn’t resist adding his two cents. “You meant ‘Only One,’” he said, giving Dino a knowing look.

Dino turned to him, his face lighting up as he nodded with enthusiasm. “That album is so good too,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

As PD Na looked over the results with a gleam in his eye, he cleared his throat, and the room was hushed in anticipation. “Anyway, well done,” he said, offering a nod of approval to the group. “Now… the result is unbelievable. We were surprised too. We’ll start with first place.”

[The result announcement]

Instantly, the members’ heads turned in unison toward Seungkwan and Hoshi, who both straightened, excitement clear on their faces.

[It's obvious]

PD Na’s grin grew, and he continued, “Congratulations to Seungkwan and Hoshi.”

[1st place, Team Go Overboard For Show]

[They got 8 out of 24]

The two sprang to their feet with matching triumphant smiles, their hands intertwined and raised high in the air. The members erupted into cheers and applause, congratulating them with claps and whistles as Seungkwan and Hoshi, facing each other, broke into a victory dance, busting out exaggerated moves that had everyone laughing all over again.

PD Na waited for the laughter to die down before he continued, “This is what matters now. Guess who placed second.”

Seungkwan, with a teasing glint in his eye, looked around and echoed, “I wonder who placed second.”

“It could be us. We got four,” Mingyu muttered, leaning over to Jeonghan.

Jeonghan nodded. “It could be us.”

Minghao, glancing sideways at Vernon, chimed in quietly, “It could be us.”

Meanwhile, Luna leaned toward Joshua, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s definitely not us,” she whispered, stifling a giggle.

PD Na’s voice cut through, naming the two teams that had tied for second. “Team Burp And Fart and Team I Don’t Like Your Earrings.”

[They both placed 2nd]

[2nd place, Team Burp And Fart and Team I Don’t Like Your Earrings]

[They both got 4 out of 24]

The announcement brought cheers from both teams, with Jeonghan, in a rare show of excitement, standing up with his hands clapping together.

[Getting up for the first time in 65 minutes]

Once the cheers had quieted, PD Na went on, “There are two for third place as well. Team Drink Less And Talk More, and Team We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying.”

[3rd place, Team Drink Less And Talk More and Team We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying]

[They both got 3 out of 24]

Luna and Joshua shared a high-five. “Good job,” Joshua said, giving her an approving smile.

Luna nodded, satisfied. “We did great.”

Joshua leaned closer, his voice just a whisper, “There’s still the MHP.”

Luna nodded, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “Right,” she murmured.

[Aiming for the MHP]

“For fourth place…” PD Na continued, glancing at his notes, “Team I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily.”

[4th place, Team I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily]

[They got 2 out of 24]

Dokyeom and Jun clapped, high-fiving each other as they celebrated. “Good job,” Dokyeom said to Jun, grinning.

Then, as PD Na turned to the remaining members, S.Coups gave Woozi a sidelong look and let out a low chuckle. “What were we doing?”

Woozi just shook his head in mock despair. PD Na raised his voice slightly to make the last announcement, unable to keep a grin from his face. “Woozi and S.Coups, you got nothing.”

[They got 0 out of 24]

Both of them sank back in their seats with exaggerated expressions of defeat, drawing laughter from the rest of the members.

PD Na, smiling, then went on to announce the MHP, or ‘Most Hip Players.’ He held up his hands to draw attention, adding suspense. “The MHP was a cut-throat competition. The production team agreed that it goes to Team We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying, and Team I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily.”

[A tie]

Both teams broke into applause, clapping for themselves with pride. Luna and Joshua exchanged a triumphant smile, while Dokyeom and Jun laughed, pleased with the outcome.

Hoshi nodded approvingly, giving them an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “I approve,” he said, clapping along with the rest.

Dino joined in the praise, looking at Luna, Joshua, Dokyeon, and Jun. “You were amazing.”

“They were good,” Minghao agreed, nodding toward them with a small smile.

[5 draw chances for 1st place, 3 draw chances for 2nd place, 2 draw chances for 3rd place, 1 draw chance for 4th place]

As the anticipation settled over the group, PD Na looked over to Luna and Joshua’s team, as well as Dokyeom and Jun’s team. “MHP winners get two additional draw chances,” he announced, raising his voice slightly so everyone could hear clearly.

Luna and Joshua exchanged pleased looks, and PD Na continued, “So, Luna and Joshua, though you placed third, you won MHP, so you get four chances in total.” The explanation made Luna and Joshua beam as the rest of the members looked on, nodding in approval.

[+2 draw chances]

Then, turning to Dokyeom and Jun, PD Na said, “The same goes for Dokyeom and Jun. You placed fourth, but you get two more draw chances, so that’s three chances in total.”

[+2 draw chances]

A round of applause erupted from both teams, with Luna clapping excitedly. “That’s better than second place,” she said, her voice ringing with satisfaction as her team members laughed in agreement.

“Yes,” Dokyeom chimed in, nodding at her with a big grin.

The two teams came together, clapping each other on the back in celebration as they united in their mini-victory.

PD Na shuffled and pulled out a large bag in his hands that contained the hopes, wishes, and prizes written by each team member, mixed in with sixty potential duds. The members’ attention shifted, and all eyes focused intently on the bag, watching as PD Na positioned himself at the front.

[The draw Producer Na’s holding contains each team's wish]

[Before the music quiz they were told to write their wishes]

PD Na held the bag steady and looked at the group with a smile. “After discussing with your colleagues, you all wrote something you want,” he began. His eyes scanned over the members, who listened intently. “Seungkwan and Hoshi, what did you write?”

“Your therapeutic variety show,” Seungkwan said confidently, making a few members laugh in anticipation of his usual passion.

“Like ‘Three Meals a Day’?” PD Na suggested, referencing his previous shows to clarify.

“Or ‘Wise Mountain Village Life’?” Dokyeom chimed in.

Seungkwan’s eyes lit up. “A chance to appear on your variety show.”

[All they care about is being on a show]

“SEVENTEEN?” Mingyu asked, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

Seungkwan shook his head, grinning mischievously. “No, Seungkwan and Hoshi only.”

[They even care about the budget]

The group burst into laughter at his response, and Seungkwan gave a shrug, feigning innocence. “They can’t handle all fourteen people,” he explained, nodding toward PD Na. “I know you can’t.”

“It’s hard to divide fourteen people,” Wonwoo pointed out, laughing at the prospect.

Mingyu smirked, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “But what if… I draw the wish?”

Seungkwan was ready, nodding as if he’d thought of every angle. “So I wrote Hoshi and Seungkwan,” he clarified with pride.

“Then it’s no use,” Luna and Jeonghan said in sync, turning to Seungkwan with raised brows and a grin. The precision of their timing made the group laugh even louder.

“Right,” Mingyu confirmed, nodding at them both. “Whoever draws it takes it.”

[The person who draws it gets to appearon Producer Na's variety show]

Once the laughter settled, PD Na moved on. “Next, Mingyu and Jeonghan, what did you write?”

Jeonghan drew out a sigh, drawing the group’s attention with his usual dramatic flair. “I was jealous of Hoshi…”

“So,” Mingyu interjected, already smirking, “two hair dryers from Dyson.”

Their answer was so unexpectedly practical that it caught everyone off guard, and laughter erupted again.

[Practical shopping cart]

[Two opposite wishes]

“Just get it on your own,” S.Coups teased, shaking his head with a grin.

Jeonghan gave a playful shrug. “We decided to be practical.”

PD Na chuckled, nodding approvingly. “That’s very practical.”

Mingyu then deadpanned, giving Jeonghan a look of mock suspicion as he pointed in his direction. “That’s why he got up earlier.”

Jeonghan joined in, clapping his hands and mimicking his excitement from earlier, adding, “‘Oh, the hair dryer!’”

PD Na moved to Dino and Wonwoo, gesturing for them to share. “Alright, Dino and Wonwoo?” he asked, the curiosity in his voice sparking the attention of everyone in the room.

[What's Dino and Wonwoo's wish?]

“We love your shows, and we haven’t been on a trip in a while,” Wonwoo began with a small smile, setting the tone for their wish.

“Right,” Hoshi chimed in immediately, nodding in agreement as if endorsing their choice.

“So, SEVENTEEN’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’,” Wonwoo finished, his voice carrying a hopeful tone. At the mention of one of PD Na’s shows, where the cast is notoriously “kidnapped” by Na PD and whisked away on an unplanned adventure, the room is filled with enthusiastic applause and cheers, fully in support of the idea.

PD Na nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he echoed, “Ah,” clearly appreciating the choice.

“They wrote SEVENTEEN,” Jun said with an approving clap, joining the excitement.

[They wrote a wish for SEVENTEEN]

“That’s nice,” Hoshi said with a grin, eyes twinkling with admiration.

“You’re so generous,” S.Coups added, seizing the opportunity to tease Seungkwan with a playful look.

“I hope that gets picked.” Luna chimed in, clearly interested in the concept of the show.

“They only care about themselves, but we care about everyone,” Dino said as he pointed at Seungkwan and Hoshi.

“Good. This is it.” Jun said.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he looked around the room, watching as their generous wish for a full group show continued to gather approval. “What… What does that make me?” he stammered, a mix of humor and disbelief in his expression as he looked at his teammate, Hoshi, and the others laughing.

[A man who cares about Producer Na and the budget]

“You're so kind.” Jeonghan told Dino.

“That's what you call a member.” Said Joshua.

“That's what we need for the team.” Followed by Jun.

[Everyone compliments]

“Seungkwanie is so cute,” Luna chuckled from her seat, observing the situation with amusement as she watched Seungkwan’s animated reaction.

“They even got all the questions on SEVENTEEN,” Mingyu said as he pointed at Dino and Wonwoo.

[Got all questions on SEVENTEEN]

Meanwhile, Hoshi, ever quick to take sides in the most entertaining way, grabbed his chair, lifting it along with him as he made his way over to sit next to Wonwoo, draping his arm around him in solidarity. “You’re so generous,” he told Wonwoo, patting him on the back with a wide grin as if they’d been teammates all along.

“What does that make me?” Seungkwan repeated, completely incredulous as the entire room burst into laughter.

“That’s what you call a team,” Hoshi declared, completely disowning Seungkwan as his teammate for a split second, much to everyone’s delight.

“You never know,” PD Na said with a chuckle, seamlessly moving things along as the laughter began to die down. “Vernon and The8, what did you write?”

Vernon looked over at Minghao, both of them smiling sheepishly. “We’re shy to say this, but we also want to appear on your show,” Minghao admitted. “We only wrote our names.”

“Alright.” PD Na nodded in understanding, barely able to contain his amusement as Hoshi moved back to his original seat next to Seungkwan, patting him on the back as if no divide had ever existed between them.

Mingyu looked over at Jeonghan, realizing the contrast in their own wish compared to the others. “That makes us look weird,” he muttered, half to himself, while Jeonghan looked unbothered.

“Only if you draw it, we’ll grant it no matter what,” PD Na reassured with a comforting smile, dispelling any worry.

“I hope we get SEVENTEEN’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’,” Seungkwan said, nodding in genuine excitement.

“Right. I only want that one now,” Luna agreed, nodding along with him, her expression reflecting her enthusiasm for the group wish.

[The next wish]

PD Na turned his attention to Woozi and S.Coups, a smile of curiosity playing on his face. “Alright, Woozi and S.Coups?” he asked, raising his brows expectantly.

Woozi leaned forward, his tone confident as he spoke. “To promote our new song ‘Super’, we want you to do a challenge,” he explained, his eyes gleaming with the mischief of his suggestion.

PD Na let out a pained chuckle, visibly wincing while the writers seated next to him clapped in delight, fully supportive of the idea.

[Mental breakdown]

“He needs to learn, right?” Jeonghan chimed in, his tone deadpan but a smile tugging at his lips as he pointed at PD Na.

“You need to learn the choreography,” S.Coups stated, crossing his arms as if daring PD Na to take on the challenge.

“You need to learn it thoroughly,” Joshua added with a grin, nodding his head in emphasis.

PD Na shook his head, his eyes wide as he feigned terror. “I noticed it has, like, sixteen moves in one beat,” he said, looking at them in mock despair.

The members broke into laughter at PD Na’s comment, each amused at his reaction to the notorious difficulty of Super’s choreography.

Woozi gave a small shrug. “I felt bad to write it, but I doubt we’d draw it,” he said, glancing at S.Coups with a half-smile.

PD Na hesitated, glancing at the camera, clearly uneasy at the prospect of having to perform such an intricate dance. “Well…” he started, his reluctance evident. “If you draw it. What’s impossible if we practice? We can do anything,” he finished, his voice trying to sound upbeat but betraying a hint of trepidation.

After a pause, PD Na straightened and turned his focus to the next team, shaking off the previous challenge as he looked over at Luna and Joshua. “Luna and Joshua, what did you ask for?” he inquired, folding his hands in front of him.

Luna leaned forward, glancing mischievously at Joshua before turning back to PD Na with a sly grin. “To increase the chances…” she began, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

Her grin widened as she spoke again. “Our team and Dokyeomie and Jun’s team decided to team up, and we wrote your challenge,” she said, gesturing toward both her team and Dokyeom and Jun’s team with an air of triumph.

[Wish collusion]

PD Na’s expression fell immediately, looking thoroughly defeated as he processed that the chances had now doubled. The writers clapped and nodded in excitement, unable to contain their enthusiasm for the twist. Meanwhile, the members erupted into laughter and applause, thoroughly impressed by Luna’s strategic move.

“If there are three, that raises the chance,” Dokyeom pointed out, his grin matching Luna’s as he raised his hand for a high-five.

Luna laughed as she high-fived Dokyeom, fully enjoying the cleverness of their plan.

[They're good at math]

PD Na, clearly desperate to reason his way out of the inevitable, held up his hands in protest. “Let me tell you. It might not help you promote your new song,” he tried to argue, his voice tinged with a last-ditch attempt to dissuade them.

But the members merely brushed him off reassuringly, waving away his concerns as they laughed even harder.

[We doubt it]

[Time to draw the wish]

[There are 7 wishes and 60 duds]

Finally, it was time for the SEVENTEEN members to draw their prizes. The anticipation was thick in the air, each member’s gaze fixed on the bag that PD Na held out with a careful yet taunting smile.

“This is it,” PD Na said, extending the bag of folded wishes and duds toward them. “It’s all about probabilities now.”

Dokyeom was the first to stand, moving to take the bag from PD Na with an air of readiness as the other members cheered him on. As he made his way back to his seat, S.Coups called after him with a grin, “Dokyeom, let’s be on ‘Youth Over Flowers’!”

“You have three chances,” PD Na reminded Dokyeom and Jun, leaning back with a look of mild dread.

“Mix well,” S.Coups encouraged, eyeing the bag in Dokyeom’s hands with hopeful determination.

Dokyeom grinned and shook the bag thoroughly, his expression amused and determined.

[Shaking as hard as he can]

“Kyeomie, no pressure, but you have to get the ‘Youth Over Flowers’,” Luna called out, making Dokyeom laugh at her particular phrasing.

Vernon nodded in agreement, crossing his arms with a small smile. “SEVENTEEN’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’ is a good idea.”

[Everyone wishes for 'Youth Over Flowers']

From the other end of the group, Jeonghan turned toward Mingyu, confusion creasing his brow. “What’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’?” he asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

Mingyu smirked knowingly. “It’s a therapeutic variety show,” he explained with a small nod.

“It’s your favorite,” Seungkwan chimed in, glancing knowingly at Jeonghan.

Jeonghan nodded, satisfied. “It’s my favorite,” he repeated with a soft smile.

With a confident grin, Dokyeom placed his hand in the bag, feeling around with his fingers for one of the small, folded pieces of paper. He held his breath, concentrating. “I think I can feel it,” he said, his voice carrying a spark of excitement as he finally picked one.

Carefully keeping it folded, he pulled his hand out of the bag. Jun, next to him, quickly reached in for their second chance, selecting his own folded paper. With a final determined look, Dokyeom took their third and last piece, holding the small bundle of their three slips in his hand.

They kept the papers folded tightly, awaiting the signal to reveal their fate. All eyes turned to PD Na, who looked around, seeing their eager faces and sensing the mounting tension.

“Seriously, it’d be great if we get ‘Youth Over Flowers’,” Seungkwan murmured, his voice hopeful.

“And?” PD Na gestured toward Jun, signaling him to open the first paper.

The group held their breath, leaning in as Jun slowly unfolded the paper. His face lit up in a burst of surprise, eyes widening as he looked at the slip, giving everyone a split-second pause of intense curiosity.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, the surprise and slight shock in his voice piquing everyone’s interest even further.

[What is it?]

PD Na’s face tightened with unease, eyebrows raised as he awaited the verdict. But then, Jun glanced at them with a shrug. “It’s a dud,” he revealed, the disappointment softened by his playful grin.

PD Na visibly breathed out in relief, a sigh that didn’t go unnoticed by the others, who chuckled at his reaction.

Beside Jun, Dokyeom had already begun to open his slip, anticipation clearly written on his face. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, eyes wide in astonishment. “SEVENTEEN’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’!” he shouted, disbelief and excitement evident as he moved to the front, holding the paper up in triumph.

[No way]

A chorus of cheers erupted from the group, a mix of pure excitement and disbelief filling the air. Dokyeom, Jun, Seungkwan, S.Coups, Dino, and Mingyu all stood up, gathering around Dokyeom as he proudly held up the slip to the camera, displaying the words as proof.

From the seats, the remaining members were clapping, some in shock and others simply overjoyed by the sheer luck of the draw.

[No one can believe it]

“Really?! That’s amazing,” Luna breathed, watching the group in front as they jumped and cheered, each basking in the thrill of their unexpected win.

PD Na and his writers, on the other hand, looked up at the celebrating members, the reality of the situation dawning on them. They knew it would be an enormous production expense to take all fourteen members on the show. But the SEVENTEEN members were too lost in their excitement to care.

[The production crew are surprised]

“SEVENTEEN’s ‘Youth Over Flowers’!” Joshua cheered, joining in on the infectious energy.

“Dokyeom-ah, your luck is insane today,” Luna added, still slightly in shock at the odds they had overcome.

PD Na shook his head in disbelief, his expression baffled. “Is this true? Who wrote it?” he asked, his tone both incredulous and amused.

With a small smile, Wonwoo stood up, pointing at the paper in Dokyeom’s hand. “I wrote it,” he said, pride evident in his voice.

[Wonwoo wrote it and DK drew it]

“Let’s stop here,” Hoshi interjected with a laugh, as though calling it quits now that they had hit the jackpot.

“Forget about the rest,” S.Coups added with a grin, arms crossed as if to punctuate the statement.

“That’s all we need,” Minghao agreed with a nod.

“No, it’s not,” Luna countered, ever the voice of reason. “The challenge.”

Jeonghan nodded at her, seeing her point. “It’s even better if we keep going. There’s still the ‘Super’ challenge left,” he agreed, the pair locked in mutual understanding.

[The two greedy bunnies]

“Oh, you’re right. Geniuses, the both of you,” Hoshi remarked, clearly impressed.

“How many duds were there?” Wonwoo asked, glancing at PD Na.

“There were sixty duds,” PD Na replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

[DK managed to draw it in 2nd time]

Jeonghan turned to Dokyeom, giving him an approving nod. “Good job,” he praised, clearly impressed with Dokyeom’s draw.

“It’s like a drama,” Dino murmured, almost in awe.

[Even the drama won't go like this]

“Well done,” Seungkwan added with a grin, clapping Dokyeom on the back.

PD Na, realizing the challenge ahead, leaned toward his writers, his tone resigned. “I better talk to my company,” he murmured.

Jun, still high on excitement, laughed. “It’s meant to be.”

Luna nodded at him, still smiling. “It is.”

PD Na looked up, realization settling in. “It’s going to cost a lot. My goodness. We’ll have to rent a bus.”

[They have to worry about how to fool 14 people]

“You better set the date soon,” Hoshi urged with a grin, barely containing his laughter.

“Right,” Seungkwan agreed with an enthusiastic nod.

“We’ll cancel all other schedules,” Wonwoo added nonchalantly, making PD Na look at them with widened eyes.

“What?” PD Na laughed, shaking his head at the pressure they were now putting on him.

“We’ll make ourselves available,” S.Coups said, patting PD Na’s shoulder as though sealing the promise.

PD Na sighed, looking at each of them. “We’ll talk about it later. We always keep our promise,” he assured, finally giving in.

[We'll talk to your agency]

With that, the members broke into applause, all satisfied with the deal.

Once everyone had settled back down, PD Na turned to Jun, curiosity lingering in his gaze. “How about the last one?” he asked, gesturing to the unopened paper in Jun’s hand.

Jun carefully unfolded it, giving the room a brief flash of anticipation before he sighed, “Unfortunately, it’s a dud.”

With a small nod, PD Na turned toward Luna and Joshua. “Okay, Luna and Joshua, it’s your turn. Four chances for the MHPs,” he announced, a glimmer of expectation in his eyes.

Dokyeom, still riding high from his earlier win, handed the bag over to them with a grin.

Joshua took it first, shaking it thoroughly as Luna watched him with a steady, focused gaze. As everyone leaned in, eager to see the result, Joshua carefully reached in, plucking out two slips of paper before handing the bag to Luna, who mirrored his actions, drawing her two slips.

[2 draws each]

Joshua took the lead, unfolding his first paper. His face fell slightly, and he held it up for everyone to see. “It’s a dud,” he said with a disappointed chuckle. Undeterred, he moved on to the next one, only to shake his head as he looked at the paper. “Dud,” he confirmed with a sigh.

All eyes turned to Luna as she carefully opened her first slip. “Dud,” she announced, her tone calm and controlled, though a small smile played at the corners of her lips. PD Na let out another relieved sigh, visibly relaxing.

[Three duds]

Then it was time for the fourth and final slip. Luna’s expression turned stoic as she held the folded paper, everyone watching her intently. She turned the paper around, realizing it was upside down. Slowly, the familiar handwriting caught her eye— the flowing, almost calligraphic style unmistakably belonging to Jeonghan.

Which could only mean…

[What is it?]

Luna started chuckling, glancing up with a knowing look as she locked eyes with Jeonghan. “Two Dyson hair dryers,” she announced with a laugh.

A collective gasp filled the room, followed by a wave of delighted cheers. Jeonghan’s face lit up in sheer excitement, grinning from ear to ear as he clapped for her, while Joshua checked the paper and joined in the cheering.

“I don’t know why you’re excited. She and Joshua won it, not you,” Mingyu pointed out, chuckling at Jeonghan’s enthusiasm.

[He was the most enthusiastic]

S.Coups pointed at Luna and Dokyeom, a proud grin on his face. “The MHP luck is insane.”

As the cheers gradually subsided, Luna glanced back at PD Na, her brow creasing in consideration. “Wait, we can disregard this one since we already won the ‘Youth Over Flowers,’” she said, sounding thoughtful.

But before PD Na could even consider agreeing, Jeonghan’s voice rang out, clear and insistent. “No. Nana-ya, Don’t worry about it. Let them get it for you.”

[What?]

Laughter erupted from the members, disbelief coloring their voices. “Ya! Yoon Jeonghan, you’re really shameless. Noona already won you a Lego set earlier!” Seungkwan called out, shaking his head. “And, noona, you let him!” he added, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

Luna hid her face behind Joshua’s back, embarrassed, while Jeonghan leaned back in his seat, casually running his fingers through his long hair with a lazy smirk.

“It’s not that…” Luna started, her voice muffled, attempting to explain herself.

Joshua cut in with a pointed look in Jeonghan’s direction. “Ya! She’s my teammate. The other Dyson is mine.”

The room exploded with laughter, everyone entertained by the lighthearted bickering. PD Na looked on in amused disbelief, shaking his head at the scene unfolding before him.

“I just want Jiyeonie to win it,” Jeonghan stated smoothly, his tone too cool and composed to be entirely innocent.

[Excuses]

Luna met his gaze, and a realization dawned on her. “Ah… we’ll share?” she asked, understanding his meaning. A shared smile passed between them, and Luna nodded her tone firm. “Alright.”

She turned back to PD Na, her earlier offer of consideration now forgotten. “Forget what I said earlier… we won the Dyson,” she stated, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

[The greedy bunnies pt. 2]

The members burst into laughter, Seungkwan shaking his head in disbelief. “Those two are really shameless,” he chuckled.

PD Na could only nod, a grin of reluctant admiration spreading across his face. “Alright,” he agreed, shaking his head at their antics as the members clapped and laughed, basking in the chaos and camaraderie.

Once everyone had settled down from the previous round of excitement, the prize bag made its way across the room to Vernon and Minghao. The two shared a look of amusement as they reached in, each drawing out slips of paper in anticipation. Since S.Coups and Woozi hadn’t scored any points, they skipped their turn, leaving Vernon and Minghao with three draws. Minghao went first, unfolding his slip carefully.

“Dud,” Minghao announced with a small shrug before passing the next slip to Vernon.

Vernon, who was seated beside him, reached for the second paper. He glanced at it, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Dud,” he confirmed.

Minghao picked up the last slip with little expectation. He opened it slowly, glancing up with a nonchalant expression. “It’s a dud.”

[3 duds]

Everyone chuckled, and PD Na let out a sigh of relief, his expression a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

Next up, Dino and Wonwoo, who had two chances, drew with quiet determination. Dino was first, and as he opened his slip, he gave a slight nod before announcing, “It’s a dud.”

Wonwoo picked up the final paper from their turn, opening it with his usual calm demeanor. “Dud,” He confirmed, letting the paper fall as he shared a quick look with Dino.

“That’s a relief,” PD Na said, still looking slightly overwhelmed.

“It’s amazing that they managed to draw the prizes,” Wonwoo said, glancing in the direction of Dokyeom and Luna.

“Right. It’s never easy to draw it,” Woozi agreed with a small nod.

The bag then moved to Jeonghan and Mingyu, who shared a mischievous smile before each drawing a slip. Mingyu went first, pulling a paper from the bag and looking at it with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Oh?” he exclaimed, raising his eyebrows.

Jeonghan looked over, curious. “What?”

With a deadpan expression, Mingyu turned the paper for everyone to see. “Dud.”

They laughed, and Jeonghan took his turn, carefully unfolding the paper. Immediately, he noticed the familiar handwriting on it— it was Luna’s, he gasped, recognition lighting up his eyes. Mingyu, who had leaned over to look, let out a shocked laugh, collapsing onto the floor in a fit of laughter.

“What?” PD Na asked, looking increasingly anxious.

Jeonghan held the slip up with a triumphant grin. “Producer Na’s ‘Super’ Challenge!” he announced, already standing up and striding toward PD Na to show him the paper.

[We never thought that was possible]

The room erupted, the cheers and laughter reaching a fever pitch as the members reacted as if they’d just won the lottery.

Luna sat with her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock, while the others crowded around Jeonghan and PD Na, laughing and cheering, with Dokyeom even breaking into an impromptu dance to tease the producer.

PD Na, utterly stunned, could only stare at the slip in Jeonghan’s hand while his team of writers joined in the laughter.

Joshua came over to Jeonghan, glancing down at the paper with a grin. “Luna and I wrote this one. At first, it was a steam closet, but we changed it to raise the chances.”

[2nd, 3rd, and 4th places drew the big ones]

Luna leaned forward in disbelief, her gaze locked on the slip. “Ah, is it our paper?” she asked, stunned.

Joshua nodded, showing her the handwriting. “Yes, it’s your handwritting.”

Once the laughter died down, Jeonghan took his final slip, glancing at it briefly. “The last one is a dud,” he announced, still grinning.

“Have you done a challenge before?” Seungkwan asked PD Na, who shook his head, looking slightly dazed.

“No,” PD Na admitted.

“His first challenge happens to be ‘Super,’” Seungkwan laughed.

“Shall we stop here?” PD Na suggested with a chuckle, and everyone burst into laughter again.

[Not only the budget is gone, but he's also having a meltdown]

Finally, PD Na turned to Seungkwan and Hoshi. “Seungkwan and Hoshi, you placed first, so you can draw five,” he announced, handing them the bag.

Hoshi drew first, opening his slip with cautious excitement. “The first one… Dud.”

Seungkwan opened the next two at once, glancing at both papers. “They’re both duds,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Hoshi took the fourth slip, opening it quickly. “Dud,” he announced, letting out a sigh.

“One more,” S.Coups encouraged, hoping for one last win.

“Yes, one more,” Jeonghan chimed in with a grin.

Hoshi nodded, and Seungkwan drew the final slip. He opened it and immediately started giggling as he read the writing.

“What?” Jeonghan asked, all eyes on Seungkwan, who held up the paper with a mischievous smile.

“It’s our own wish to appear on PD Na’s show,” he said, earning an amused sigh and a nod from the rest of the group, while PD Na just stared at him, dumbfounded.

[They drew their own wish]

“Actually, let’s not do this,” Seungkwan said, shaking his head.

“Right. They overlap,” Hoshi agreed, chuckling.

[They decided to give up on it]

[They already got 'Youth Over Flowers']

“By the way, we picked the good ones,” Jeonghan said with a smirk, looking satisfied.

“We had five chances, but they got nothing,” Hoshi remarked.

PD Na shook his head, letting out a wry chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll need to talk to your agency about this.”

[The production crew shared the rest of the duds after the shoot]

With that, PD Na brought the segment to an end. “Good work, everyone. That was unbelievable,” he said, bowing his head slightly as the members clapped, bowing back and voicing their thanks.

The break began, with some members moving to head back to the green room, still reeling from the excitement, while others lingered on set, talking animatedly about their prizes. S.Coups gestured to Dokyeom, “Dokyeom, take a picture of ‘Youth Over Flowers.’”

Dokyeom nodded, reaching for his phone to snap a photo.

Meanwhile, Luna jumped up from her seat, a bright smile on her face, and skipped across the room toward Jeonghan. “I’m really excited for ‘Youth Over Flowers,’” she said as she slipped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Jeonghan smiled, reaching up to caress her arms gently. “How did he manage to draw it? That was amazing.”

From across the room, Woozi’s voice drifted over, “How did you draw it? That was amazing.” he asked Dokyeom, genuinely impressed.

“We had all the duds,” Hoshi joked, pointing at Vernon, Minghao, Wonwoo, and Dino, who all laughed in response.

“The chance to draw a dud is definitely higher,” Woozi agreed with a knowing nod.

[They're still impressed]

The group continued walking around, chatting and laughing as they shared stories from the segment and captured pictures to commemorate the moment.

Luna, still hugging Jeonghan from behind, walked in sync with him as they slowly made their way toward the green room.

“You did such a good job back there,” Jeonghan murmured softly, tilting his head to glance at her over his shoulder. His tone was gentle, his expression warm as he looked at her with pride.

“Thank you. I had fun,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his back, feeling the warmth of his praise.

Jeonghan chuckled, patting her hand. “I’m glad you had fun. I did too.”

Luna smiled, her cheeks tinged with a blush.

They continued their conversation, Jeonghan’s words filled with gentle affection as he showered her with compliments. His voice was soft, almost a murmur, as he cooed over her efforts. She held onto him tightly, savoring the warmth of his praise, and they walked out of the set like that, completely absorbed in each other.

Finally, Jeonghan glanced back, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t believe you won the Dyson.”

“It’s fate,” Luna murmured, resting her cheek against his shoulder with a contented sigh. “I think I surprised even myself.”

As they reached the open area outside, Mingyu stretched his arms, taking a deep breath. “The weather’s really nice,” he commented, glancing around at the bright sky. “Seungkwan, do you want to play foot volleyball?”

At that, Dokyeom broke into song again, belting out, “‘I love my team, I love my crew!’”

[That's DK again]

Nearby, Jeonghan, who had let Luna move in front of him so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders, asked, “Who’s on ‘Youth Over Flowers’?”

[Jeonghan doesn't watch TV]

“WINNER was on it before,” S.Coups answered, chuckling. “It’s a long-term project.”

“Is it really long-term?” Jeonghan asked with a grin as he looked down at Luna, pulling her a little closer.

“Yes,” S.Coups confirmed.

“That sounds like so much fun,” Luna said, her face lighting up with excitement.

Jeonghan smiled, leaning down slightly to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. “That’s great.”

“What does that mean?” Jun asked, curious.

“A long time,” Jeonghan clarified, content in his eyes as he looked around at his friends.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he looked at Luna, the warmth of her against his chest grounding him. “What about the South Pole? I want to visit the South Pole,” he said, his voice a little wistful.

Luna turned her head to look at him with a curious smile. “Why the South Pole and not the North Pole?” she asked, her tone light as she leaned back into him.

Jeonghan considered her question, then returned it with a teasing gleam in his eye. “Hmm, why the North Pole then?”

“Santa Claus lives at the North Pole,” Luna answered matter-of-factly, her response making him chuckle.

“Alright, alright. The North Pole it is,” he indulged her, his voice warm as he hugged her tighter, savoring the simple happiness of the moment.

The rest of the members continued to laugh and chat around the arena as they did their own thing, their easy camaraderie filling the space with energy and joy. But for Jeonghan and Luna, wrapped up in each other’s presence, it was as though they were in a world of their own.

As they stood there, Jeonghan could feel the day’s events fading into something distant, leaving only this moment— this effortless, quiet intimacy— as they walked toward the green room, hand in hand, preparing themselves for the upcoming segment.

[Please wait for 'Youth Over Flowers']

['Super' challenge is coming in Clip 3-2]

[To be continued in Clip 3-2]

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[grlsinterrupted]

frat bro ! dallas winston hcs ౨ৎ˖ ࣪⊹

quick little modern day headcanons that i’ve been thinking of .. also i’m so sorry abt how slow i’ve been with requests ! ₊˚⊹

-

general hcs :

THE ultimate nonchalant frat boy

the only clothing items he has in his closet are tank tops, nike shorts, some snapback hats, and a pair of yeezy slides

when he first pledged, his frat forced him to make tiktoks with soda and steve dancing to audios

HE WAS SO UNENTHUSIASTIC.

like go girl give us nothing !!

but all know that secretly, he loved doing all those stupid little dances

he LOVES hazing the freshmen

one time he started a fight club and made all the pledges fight eachother

the loser had to take a shot

unfortunately, the whole fight club did not last very long .. :(

he refuses to drink white claws or twisted teas

or any sweet alcohol, for that matter

“i don’t drink that pussy shit. in this frat, we shotgun beers like real men.”

he’s assigned to kick any unwanted people out of the parties

gosh .. all of this partying just to have a 0.42 gpa

he tries to convince everyone that he STRICTLY listens to rap

he’ll play drake, 21 savage, future, and travis scott whenever he’s in front of people

then he’ll make disgusted faces and fake gagging sounds whenever a taylor swift song plays

but when it’s just him, he’s BLASTING taylor swift

he belts all the lyrics to don’t blame me despite how tonedeaf he is

sometimes two will walk in on dal while he’s singing

”okay, justin bieber,” two slow claps his way into dal’s room. “you should really go on america’s got talent, y’know. you’ve got the voice of an angel.”

”GET THE FUCK OUT, TWO!” dal swings an empty can at two’s head, hitting him on the way out

dating hcs :

surprisingly amazing at beer pong?

he forces you to be his partner every time you guys play

once the two of you win, he celebrates with a makeout session in front of EVERYONE

it’s safe to say that no one’s ever challenged you to beer pong after your 5th win with him

if the making-out doesn’t make your opponent quit, his taunting will

when he scores, he starts beating his chest and screaming “YOU DONT KNOW ME, SON! YOU NOT LIKE THAT, LIL BRO!”

he’s a sappy drunk. you can’t convince me otherwise

“mmphh.. doll, why ya so far away from meeeeeee? come closer, i miss yoooouuuuuu..” dal’s words are slurred, his cheeks flushed with red from all of the alcohol he’s been drinking. he grabs onto the sleeve of your sweater, pulling you closer towards him.

”you’re so clingy when you’re drunk.” you roll your eyes, gently running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

we all know that he’s the one screaming, “IF YOU’RE NOT IN SIGMA LIGMA CHI, GET THE FUCK OOOOUUUTTTTTT!”

but occasionally, he’ll set up a chair for you to stand on top of

then, you get to scream at the top of your lungs, “GET THE FUCK OOOUUUTTTTTT!!”

if you’re not allowed to stay the night at the frat house, him and like 5 other brothers will walk you back to your dorm

all the brothers love you .. or maybe they just act like it because they’re actually TERRIFIED of dal

the amount of sass this man gives you whenever he’s hungover? he is literally such a diva

like damn girl who hurt you..

he secretly uses your skincare products whenever you stay over

he likes that your moisturizer makes his skin look all shiny

you’ll spend most of your sunday mornings taking care of him and making sure that he drinks plenty of water

dallas lets out a low groan, pulling his blanket over his head as you nudge his shoulder.

”dal, hurry up and drink your liquid iv. it’ll make you feel better.” you pull his blanket down, placing the lip of the cup by his mouth.

”nooooowuuahhhh, i’m too tired..”

despite the stereotype the frat guys get laid by 30 girls a night, we all know that dal is so loyal to you

he’ll just grimace at any sorority girl that approaches him

@glxsyymads ik you asked for some frat headcanons so i’m just going to tag you so you can see :)

-

[gunnerfc]

Consequences | Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader (18+)

Summary: Katie overhears you claiming to be the more dominant one in the bedroom and has to put you in your place

Warnings: semi-public sex (not the whole fic), edging, fingering (r receiving), teasing from Katie, strap use (r receiving), Katie calling r “good girl” and “slut”, strap sucking

WC: 2.7K

AN: posting this a bit later than I originally planned </3 

You were sat at a table in a loud pub with Steph, Lia, and Beth laughing at some of your teammates butcher a Taylor Swift song in a round of karaoke. Arsenal had just won the Conti Cup final and everyone decided that getting drinks and celebrating together was the best thing to do. You giggled to yourself watching Katie forget all the lyrics when it was her turn to sing, knowing it was definitely the alcohol she had consumed. 

Lia’s eye caught the love in your eyes as you stared at your girlfriend with a bright smile. “You and Katie are really cute! It’s sweet seeing how different she is off the pitch with you,” the midfielder all but shouted over the loud music. You tore your eyes from the group at the front of the room, Steph and Beth offering words of agreement with Lia.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, but you felt like being a bit messy. Perhaps scoring the winning goal was affecting you more than you thought. “Please, Katie is nothing like how she is on the pitch, you’d be surprised at what I could get her to do,” you smirked, throwing your teammates a teasing wink as you took a sip of your drink.

“That’s a bit surprising, you don’t have a commanding bone in your body, babe,” Beth laughed as she sipped her drink. You gasped dramatically at her words, earning a laugh from Steph and Lia as well. 

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you won’t even argue with a ref when you have the right to,” the Aussie added more insult to injury. You knew they were right, and you definitely knew Katie was the dominant one in your relationship, but hearing how your friends didn’t think you could be made you eager to continue the lie.

“I’ll have you three know that Katie is not the same person at home,” you huffed. While trying to convince your friends about something you knew to be untrue, you failed to realize your teammates who were doing karaoke had made their way back to the table. Others were still at the bar, chatting among themselves where they could actually hear each other.

None of you noticed the sly smirk on Katie’s face as she overheard your conversation. She found it entertaining that you thought you could be in charge in the bedroom, and it was even more comical that your teammates didn’t really believe you. 

“You good, babe,” Katie said as she took her seat next to you, a teasing glint in her eye when you jerked your head toward her. 

“Hi, baby! You sounded so good up there,” you knew she heard you just by the way she was looking at you and you knew she wouldn’t let you live it down. Katie laughed at your praises, you were in for it when the two of you got home. Though, a part of Katie wanted to tease you about your comments now, rather than wait. 

Katie waited until your teammates were distracted with new conversations before she leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “Meet me in the bathroom in a minute, love,” her accent laced with command, knowing you would listen. You nodded your head subtly as she stood from the table and headed towards the bathrooms. 

You let your teammates return to their conversations so they wouldn’t notice you were leaving the table as well. Your breathing picked up as you walked towards the bathroom, your heart was breathing against your chest as desire filled your body. You didn’t think Katie was going to be nice enough to give an orgasm so soon, but who were you to complain about your girlfriend making you cum.

The bathrooms were empty aside from the Ireland captain leaning against one of the stalls. The stall wasn’t the best size to do anything but seeing Katie’s smirk with a slight head tilt as she pushed the door in some, you didn’t care how small it was. You quickly entered the small cubicle, Katie joining you as she locked the stall, not that it really mattered. 

Before you could even plead your case, your girlfriend’s lips were on yours in a heated kiss. Your mouth moved against hers, Katie easily gaining dominance over you. You were grateful her lips were on yours as a loud moan threatened to escape your mouth. Katie’s hands held your waist tightly as she pushed you against the side of the stall. Your hands moved to wrap around her shoulders as your hips started rolling against her.

Katie pulled back when she felt your hips moving, her hands pushing you further against the siding to stop their movements. “What do you think you're doing, love,” she asked, fake confusion gracing her features. 

“Please, Katie! I’m sorry for lying to them, please just do something,” you whined lowly, hoping she would decide to be a bit nicer tonight. Katie laughed softly at your words, this was just the beginning for her. 

“Since you asked nicely,” she smirked as she moved one of her hands to the buttons on your jeans, easily undoing them without a second thought. Your heart was thumping against your chest in anticipation, waiting for her fingers to reach where you needed her most. 

You tilted your head back against the siding of the stall as Katie traced a finger over the top of your underwear leaving a blazing trail against your cool skin. You tried to jerk your hips forward but her hand that remained on your waist kept you from doing so. Just as you were about to beg again, Katie’s hand dipped under the waistband and ran up and down your dripping core.

The defender didn’t give you a warning before two of her fingers pushed into you. You had to control your volume as she moved her hand, thrusting lightly into you. Katie set a slow pace as she worked her fingers inside you and leaned forward to attach her lips to your exposed neck. One of your hands moved to tangle in her hair as she sucked harsh bruise-like marks along the side and column of your neck.

“Do ya enjoy this, you lyin’ slut,” she mumbled against your skin as kissed up toward your jaw. Your eyes rolled back at her words mixed with the agonizingly slow thrust of her fingers. You knew she wasn’t looking for an answer, she just wanted you to know your place. 

Begging for her to go fast would get you nowhere, knowing Katie she would stop altogether if you asked for more. Through heavy breaths and low moans, you focused on how close you were to coming. Katie could sense you were close, she’d given you enough orgasms to know how to read your body for signs. But she wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easy.

Just as you were about to cum, Katie pulled her fingers out of your tight cunt. You cried out at the loss of contact just as you were about to let go but Katie paid you mind as she redid the buttons on your jeans. As you opened your mouth to complain, her fingers that were previously inside you were shoved in your mouth. She didn’t have to tell you what to do as you sucked her fingers clean, moaning at the taste of yourself on them.

“Since you’re in a lying mood tonight, love, go tell the girls you don’t feel well and we’re gonna head home,” Katie ordered with a menacing smirk on her face as she pulled her fingers from your mouth. 

You didn’t speak, only nodding your head obediently. The quicker you could leave, the quicker you could get home and Katie would let you cum. Katie let go of your waist and moved so you could exit the stall first. You made your way back to the table a bit uncomfortably, you were beyond dripping and it was driving you crazy.

“Hey guys, I think we are gonna head out, I’m not feeling too good,” you spoke over the loud music, hoping you were convincing the team. A few of them made an ‘aw’ sound while others wished you well. Katie quickly waved goodbye to the team as you joined her at the entrance. You were in for a long car ride full of even more teasing.

When you reached Katie’s car she quickly opened the door for you, giving you a big grin when you got in the car. A minute later the two of you were off, heading back to your shared apartment. Katie had one hand on the steering wheel and the other held tightly to your thigh, squeezing it every so often.

“It’s not nice to lie to your friends, y’know,” the defender spoke, not even sparing you a glance. You took a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the remarks she was going to make.

“Not gonna respond, are we, love,” she chuckled as she stopped at a red light. Katie turned her head in your direction, watching your chest heave and your thighs attempting to rub against each other. She tightened her grip on your thigh, stopping you from succeeding in finding a bit of relief.

“I could,” you mumbled softly, “be in charge,” you finished with a deep breath. The lack of contact where you needed it most was getting to you and you weren’t sure how long you could last whenever Katie decided to finally give in.

Katie laughed sarcastically at your words as the light turned green and she took off. “You heard Steph if you can’t argue with a ref when you should, what makes you think you’d be able to boss me around,” the Ireland captain taunted with a grin.

You knew she was right but a small part of you believed that you could if you were given the chance. Though tonight would not be that night. The rest of the car was silent, Katie’s hand stayed on your thigh and you felt yourself growing wetter by the second.

You said a silent thank you when you pulled up to your apartment building, thankful that you were a bit closer to an orgasm. You and Katie rode the elevator in silence, both of you going over what was about to happen when you got inside your apartment. 

Katie quickly unlocked the door and you were pulled inside at lightning speed. Your back met the door roughly once it was closed and Katie’s lips were on yours once again. She easily won control of the kiss, you were too desperate to fight her. You let your girlfriend guide you through the apartment, her lips never leaving yours. 

When you reached the bedroom is when you were given the chance to breathe again. Katie pulled back from you before she all but shoved you toward the bed. “Be a good girl and strip,” her strong voice echoed around the room and she didn’t bother to watch as she moved toward the nightstand to get the girthy strap she liked to use when she deemed you to be ‘bad,’ 

You quickly got out of your clothes, tossing them wherever you could. You stood at the foot of the bed, naked and ready for the next order from the defender. Katie took her time taking off her own clothes and getting the toy situated around her hips. When she was done, she joined you at the foot of the bed while her eyes took in your naked form.

“Knees,” was all she ordered and you dropped to the carpeted floor. Katie held the toy near the end, holding it up toward your mouth and without needing further instruction, you took the toy into your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked, taking the toy as far as you could before you started gagging. Katie had her hands in your hair while she rocked her hips forward, helping the toy go further down your throat. You were dripping down your thighs, and having Katie fuck your throat was affecting you greatly.

After a few minutes, Katie let go of your hair as she pulled the toy from your mouth. A string of saliva connecting your lips to the toy drew a deep groan from the woman standing above you. You waited on your knees for your girlfriend to tell you what to do before she motioned to the end of the bed.

You moved off the floor quickly as you lay on the bed, letting your legs dangle off the end. Katie used her foot to kick your legs open and you moaned lowly at the cool feeling on your wet cunt. Katie moved in between your legs and pulled them up to wrap around her waist. 

The defender ran the tip of the toy through your folds, teasingly pushing it in a little bit. You whined at the feeling, it wasn’t enough and if something didn’t happen soon you were going to cum around nothing. Katie lined the toy up with your cunt before she pushed it in, using her hips to push it further into you. Her hands held your hips tightly and she didn’t waste any time before her hips snapped against yours.

Your hands held the top cover in a tight grip, your knuckles turning white as loud moans spilled from your lips. Katie’s movements didn’t start slow, she immediately started pounding into you quickly. “Good girls don’t lie, bad sluts do. Are you a bad slut,” your girlfriend questioned as her skin hit yours.

You couldn’t formulate a sentence, high-pitched moans were too busy escaping your mouth. Katie squeezed your hips as she angled her hips slightly to hit that familiar spot inside you. A loud gasp echoed off the walls at the feeling, if she kept hitting that spot you were going to be coming soon. 

“I-I’m sorry! I’ll be a good girl! P-please let me cum,” you croaked out in between moans, tears falling down the sides of your face. 

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” Katie said as she moved one of her hands to push down on your lower stomach. Your moans turned to cries as you felt an orgasm about to wash over you. 

“P-please, Katie! Let me cum,” you cried out as the familiar coil in your stomach started to break. You tried to hang on as long as possible, knowing if you came without permission, you were going to get punished for it.

Katie’s movements sped up as she pushed down on your stomach and held on tightly to your hip. She kept a steady pace as the sound of her skin slapping against yours and the wet sounds of your dripping cunt filled the room. Katie wanted to make you suffer for lying to your friends but the sight of you fucked out and coming was something she couldn’t pass up.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” the defender growled, eyes locked on your face watching your expression as you let go.

Your orgasm sent shockwaves through you as your back arched off the bed and your head was thrown back. You came all over the toy attached to Katie’s hips but that didn’t stop her movements. She kept her pace the same as was determined to pull another orgasm from you. 

You cried at the overstimulation but the cries quickly turned to moans at the feeling of being full. Your second orgasm of the night hit you quickly, cum dripping down both your and Katie’s thighs. Katie slowed her movements, letting you calm down for a minute before pulling out of you completely and unwrapping your legs from her body. 

“Move up the bed and roll over, baby. We aren’t through yet,” Katie huffed out, she was going to show you just how wrong you were. 

You took a second to catch your breath before following her orders. You knew it was silly to lie to your friends over something like this but if it meant having Katie treat you like and having multiple earth-shattering orgasms back to back, then you couldn’t be too upset that she overheard you. You had a long night and felt every bit of it the next morning, but you were far from complaining about being sore.

[astrologysaysno]

You can find my first post about trainee Shang Qinghua here

Expanding on the lore of trainee Shang Qinghua, I believe that as an author, he would definitely put random songs he likes as part of PIDW lore.

Head Disciple Shang Qinghua is spectating Qing Jing Peak with his master for a performance. News has spread of the Peak Lord unearthing some old prehistoric songs that have never been played before, and that Qing Jing has been able to successfully decipher some of the old text symbols to be played.

Shang Qinghua hears it for the first time and is at first a little off put by the fact that he recognizes it somewhat but then he remembers and begins to die inside, cause how do you explain the fact that he knows this mysterious, centuries old song, and that this actually a k-pop b-side track from about two millenias into the future.

This becomes an unfortunate dilemma where, due to the song's catchy nature, when he thought no one was looking, Shang Qinghua began singing the song.

The big problem here is that what the Qing Jing Peak has deciphered was simply a musical score sheet, and that the version Shang Qinghua is singing isn't just vocalisations, there's actual words.

Being heard by the An Ding Peak Lord, he gets the bright idea of contacting the Qing Jing Peak Lord and begins to force Qinghua and Shen Jiu to collaborate to complete the song and perform it.

No one is happy in this scenario.

Shang Qinghua now has to figure out how to work with the scum-villain-to-be Shen Jiu without giving away his nature as a transmigrator, his connection to Mobei-jun, and messing up the plot and everything going wrong

Shen Jiu now has to collab with his greatest (one-sided) nemesis into creating a show-worthy performance, all the while trying to investigate Shang Qinghua and his shady secrets.

Mobei-Jun now believes he has a rival fighting for Qinghua's affections and that he's clearly losing cause. Have you seen these lyrics? Obviously, my rival is getting the upper hand, and I won't stand for that.

[pookietv]

number one fan | george clarke

this was requested! and i couldn't resist the end lmao so !!

george had always been supportive. he liked to consider himself his friends biggest fans, always turning up to whatever may be important to them, from arthur's tours, to his home friends graduations, he always wanted to be there and be able to show his pride in the people in his life.

so when he began dating a singer, it was to no one's surprise that he became the biggest fan out there.

your music a staple of the household, to the point where an intervention was called by arthur and chris.

"geooooorge can we not put on different music now?" chris said with a slight smile on his face as he rolled his eyes jokingly.

"you know we love y/n's music but george, this is a little excessive," arthur agreed, giggling to himself a little.

"just let this song finish! its the best one," he protested whilst cooking at the kitchen island, earning a joking groan from arthur.

"i'm convinced that just by living in this house we may know her lyrics better then she knows them," chris laughed, and george just shrugged with a mockingly innocent look.

when you first got signed by a manager, changing from original songs uploaded to youtube to a real publishing plan.

"george?" you grinned to yourself as you went into his room, having been let in by arthur, seeing him sat at his desk, seeing you and pulling his headphones off his head.

"hey, you! didn't know you were coming around today," he said, standing to press a quick kiss to your hairline, and you could barely stop yourself grinning at him like the cheshire cat.

"what's that look for?" he asked as he pulled away, quirking his head slightly as a small smile approached his face too.

"i got offered to be signed! by a real label! they actually want me to be under their label!" you practically babbled out, watching george's grin grow wider before wrapping you in a hug, practically lifting you from the ground.

"no way! that's amazing, darling," he muffled into your hair, his arms around your torso only wrapping tighter, "i'm so so so proud," he beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

"thank you george," you smiled back, your cheeks glazed with red, "you've been so supportive, and i appreciate it so much,"

"so, now can i convince you to write a whole album about your biggest fan?" he teased, and you playfully pushed his chest.

"well, maybe i could write a song for arthur, i mean he was so lovely letting me open for his tour, he definitely has been a loyal fan..." you teased in return, pretending to ponder, causing george to mock pout.

"hey, hello, i am your biggest fan you muppet!"

when your first album released, and it was all george could yap about for at least a month afterwards.

when he featured on his bach and arthur's podcast? practically the first thing to leave his mouth.

"yeah, so i've not been up to too much, y/n was really busy recently so we decided now she's done and the album's released, we might try and go away somewhere - the album's out now on all streaming platforms! go listen, she's brill," he says with a cheesy grin on his face.

"what was the timer on george mentioning y/n there? under five minutes?" bach laughed, george's face going slightly red as he shrugged.

"it is a good album, in his defence," arthur laughed a little.

when he's in one of chris' videos? practically every goal he scored was backdropped by the beat change of one of your songs.

"if you miss this one, we're not letting you aux the flat for a week," chris chided with a grin, and george rolled his eyes as he placed the ball down, lining it up and kicking it in.

"see? he's the biggest fan around! the second the thought of not playing y/n's new album 24/7 is unthinkable to george," arthur laughed, before continuing, "i don't even live with you guys and i think i've heard y/n's music more times then i have actually met her in person."

going to your first big concert?

you had offered him to be backstage, but he had said no - of course he wanted to be in the front, seeing you perform like he was anyone else, he wanted to see you properly, from the floor.

"you're sure you don't wanna be backstage?" you had asked him on facetime earlier that day, when you were already at the venue for sound checks but he had assured you no.

"we're all coming in the pit, we've gotta see it like a normal concert!" he grinned down the phone, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you at least gonna stand at the back so you guys don't get like, mobbed or squashed or something? 'cause people might ask for photos," you said, slightly concerned for him, but he just shook his head.

"we can take photos afterwards with whoever wants one - i'm not standing at the back and barely seeing anything just cause some people may try and be rude and take photos with us whilst you're performing, that's not fair to you," he hummed slightly down the phone, "plus, chris wouldn't be able to see from the back and you know that," he laughed a little at his own joke

you cracked a small smile as you shook your head, "you're so stubborn, george, you know that?"

and when he showed up to the concert, with both of the arthurs and chris, all stood as close to the front as they could be, and before you could even notice anything else, you saw george's shit eating grin at his shirt, which he wore in a teasing sort of pride, that just said 'i fucked the singer', and as he saw your eyes roll, you could hear his laugh from the crowd.

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p2 | mat barzal

my masterlist & part 1 pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: the aftermath of the interview. warnings: not edited, a lil angst but mostly fluff! please let me know if i missed anything. word count: 972 author note: i refuse to call twitter X. also there are most definitely inaccuracies but i hope you guys like anyways <3

“Hey, we made it on People Magazine’s Twitter,” Mat says eagerly, and you look up from the journal you’ve been jotting lyric ideas in. He has an endearing and adorable smile on his face as he looks at his phone.

Still, you can’t help but look at him, titling your head slightly “You haven’t been in People Magazine?” 

He laughs but his smile doesn’t waiver. “Not all of us are insanely talented musicians.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and lean over to press your lips firmly against his. The past few months have been nothing but bliss, since you replied to his DM. You were scared to open your heart again after your last relationship but Mat has shown you thus far that if you find the right person, it’s okay to let someone in.

“I don’t know,” you tease, pulling away. “I’ve seen you with a guitar.”

He blushes and tries to hide it by kissing you again. You let him, mainly because you’re enjoying it but also because you don’t want to push. 

You’re floating in pure euphoria right now, enjoying every moment and you don’t want it to end. 

“You’ll come to tonight's game, right?” He asks, brushing a loose piece of hair out of your face and resting a hand on your shoulder. One thing that you’ve learned about Mat is how tactile he is. He always wants to be touching you somehow, whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you promise.

. . .

You love coming to Mat’s games, but some of the girls are still iffy about you which is understandable. You’ve only been dating Mat for five months and you are also in the media which brings a lot of attention. Sometimes unwanted attention. 

You also love your fans but they have a love/hate relationship with your relationship with Mat. Also taking into account his fans, and sometimes it’s too much. Like tonight. 

Everything starts great, there’s not much trouble getting to the stadium, but there are always fans waiting to hopefully get to see a hockey player or get a picture before the game. Someone sees you and then you’re back on Twitter and not the good side of Twitter.

You manage to get to your VIP suite pretty easily, Iris and some of your other friends with you. 

“I’d say I told you so, but you’d probably fire me,” Iris says dreamily, staring at the jumbotron that is showing a live feed of you. You’re not sure if it’s something you’ll ever get used to. You imagine this is what Taylor Swift feels like when she goes to Travis Kelce’s games.

“You just did,” you reply dryly but there’s no malice to your tone. You know exactly how Iris is and you love her for it.

Your eyes go back to the jumbotron, looking to see if they show Mat. You think you can see him on the ice from your current view, but you’re never sure unless he looks up and waves. 

“I’m glad I did, though,” you say and she looks at you for clarification. 

“Message him back. You were right.” 

She doesn’t say I told you so, or say any funny comeback. She just smiles and nods towards where the game has started. 

It’s a tight game and you’re on the edge of your seat for most of it but the Islanders win in overtime with a victory of 2–1, with Mat scoring the overtime goal. You watch the team celebrate on the ice before they head back to the locker room and you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to Mat letting him know you’ll meet him at his place. With your security and his postgame interviews, it’s usually best to just meet at either of your houses.

You’re sitting with a glass of wine, watching the highlights from other games when Mat gets home. You can hear him drop his bag by the door and toss his keys on the counter before making his way to the living room where you are waiting. Max, your golden retriever is sitting by your feet but his tail starts wagging when he sees Mat. 

“Hey pal,” Mat mutters, bending down to greet the pup before plopping down on the couch next to you. He sighs, staring at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, putting your glass on the table and turning towards him. He turns his head towards you and opens and closes his mouth a few times. You’re starting to get nervous when he speaks.

“Move in with me,” he whispers and you freeze.

“Mat-”

“Look, I know it’s only been five months but we spend all our time together anyway. We’re just bouncing between houses.” He reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “Let’s make it one house.”

The thought of moving in together absolutely terrifies you, but when you think about it, he’s right. If he’s not away for games or you’re not doing shows, you’re together and when you think about the future, Mat is standing next to you.

“Okay,” you say and his eyes widen. 

“Really? I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg,” he says and you’re not sure if he’s kidding or not.

So you shrug. “You make valid points. Plus, I think Max would like not to be shuffled around so much.”

He grins and leans in to kiss you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur when you pull away and then Max jumps up on the two of you as if he knows a decision has been made and Mat almost falls off the couch but you have never been happier.

tag list: @ilyrafe

[heavenbarnes]

Run the pass

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x GN!Reader x Sydney Adamu

Warnings/Contains: reader is gender-neutral (no pronouns or descriptions of their genitals), swearing, allusions to alcohol, brief and non-descriptive mentions of vomiting, Claire exists, reader doesn't necessarily treat Syd the way she deserves, penetrative sex (with no mentions of protection), oral sex (reader and Syd receiving), coming inside, dirty talk.

Word Count: 7k

I have had this idea in my head for an AGE and I'm so glad I finally get to write it. In my head, the threesome didn't happen but I think it was a lovely addition. God, I just need these two like water.

This kitchen sounds like home.

Sure, there's a whirring noise coming from the walk in chiller. Sure, Richie is going waxing-lyrical at Fak over the score of some ball game. Sure, the grill spits like a dragon at the gates of doom.

But this kitchen sounds like home.

It's full of flavour, and friends, and- well, Carmy's in it.

You can only see the back of him, the white t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. You can see the backs of his arms moving as he plates the next meal. But it makes you smile, just inwardly, as you fold the mixture in the steel bowl in front of you.

When you look up again, Sydney's beside him. She's pushing another plate towards him and they're shoulder to shoulder. They work so perfectly in-sync that your smile widens.

Tina catches it, nudging you with her hip as she walks past you. "Wish somebody would look at me like that."

You just shake your head, putting it down to focus on your food in front of you as you keep working. By the time you pick your head back up, you see that Carmy's looking back at you over his shoulder.

Looking into Carmy's eyes is like staring into the sun, all consuming and a little blinding. If it'd been any different, you would've seen Sydney watching you over his other shoulder.

-

Carmy is a good boss, he's firm but fair. Firm but fair.

Working in his kitchen is one of the best gigs that ever fell in your lap. He wasn't even the one to hire you, go figure.

His brother, Michael, he hired you. You'd come in to put your name in the running for the kitchen-hand position they were advertising for. He saw something different.

That's how you ended up working the register.

Not exactly what you had in mind when you'd applied at the restaurant but, money is money and it was nearly impossible to find a job in this city. Also, Michael had told you that once folks walked past and saw you in the front window? Customers would come running.

You figured it wasn't worth the argument, and who knows? Maybe you could've impressed him enough to make your way into the kitchen.

Then things went and changed on you, Michael up and made his big decision and here you were on the register with his younger brother running the kitchen you so badly wanted to break into.

Carmy needed to find his feet in this place, understand how the sausage gets made. So you didn't fuss about your role, it was easier to let things lie as they were and maybe bring it up later on.

It wasn't even you that brought it up, it was Sydney.

"God knows we need more help in the kitchen but no, let's keep the register covered!" She threw up her hands with an exasperated groan.

Carmy's face scrunched in confusion, looking towards the wall as if he could somehow see through it and visualise you out the front.

He spoke your name like a question, one that Sydney was very quick to answer.

"Carmy, please tell me you're not serious?" She even laughed a little as she picked up the cloth on her shoulder and threw it at the man. "Have you two even spoken once?"

And then it was Carmy that finally brought it up with you, calling you into his office as he heard you getting ready to leave for the night.

You poked your head into the small room and smiled at him. "Yes, chef?"

He waved you in, turning his seat around till he was facing you. Carmy was hunched over, obviously tired with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Why didn't you tell me you graduated from Kendall?"

Your mouth suddenly felt dry, eyes going wide like you'd been caught out in some kind of lie. You hadn't really lied, had you? Just maybe not told him the whole truth.

"Well, I-uh-" You stuttered your way through, hoping he'd just give up and drop it.

Carmy was a surprisingly patient man.

Your voice could hardly be called more than a whisper as you spoke. "I told Michael."

Confusion was written on his face as his brow furrowed. "What?"

"He just thought I'd be better as front of house, thought maybe the customers would enjoy something nice to look at."

Carmy felt his eye twitch, his elbows nearly shattered his femurs as he his whole body went rigid. "Excuse me?"

He wasn't even sure why he'd asked that last part, it wasn't like he was listening. As you babbled away in the doorway, all Carmy could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.

Michael had said what? From the moment Carmy laid eyes on you he had wished nobody else could. He didn't want a single person to be able to look at you the way he did, he wanted you all to himself.

And his older brother was happy to let any of the bastards off the street look you up and down through the front window? He actually encouraged it?

Carmy stood up quickly, maybe too quickly, he felt like his head was spinning off his shoulders. As his heart nearly burst out his chest he realised what he needed. Keeping his head low, he turned to look at you and suddenly felt it.

The world slowed down a little bit, everything settled back nicely into place. You were smiling, albeit nervously, but you were there and you were smiling.

Carmy ran a large hand over his face as he spoke matter-of-factly.

"I want you in the kitchen starting tomorrow morning," His eyes locked onto yours. "Chef."

-

You didn't really remember where it started, well- you kind of did. You think it might've been a late night, both of you the last to leave the kitchen and you'd been talking each other's ears off like you usually do.

Carmy definitely made the first move, there was no doubt about it. You seemed to think he'd had your hips pinned to the edge of one of the stainless steel benches as he caught your lips with his own.

You'd felt the firm muscle of his neck beneath your hands as you cradled him like he was precious. Well, to you at least, he was precious.

It'd ended with him walking you to his office, making you kneel in his chair as he took you from behind. You remembered his hands closing over yours, where they gripped the back of the chair, fingers locking with yours.

You remember the flashes of his tattoos as he dropped one of his hands in front of you, sliding down your front to the centre of your thighs- how his hips didn't falter once as his stroked you to perfection.

Everything Carmy did was perfection.

His food made your eyes roll back in your head, his movements could make your mouth water, his words could have your whole body twitching,

In your eyes, Carmy was built on a pillar of perfection.

Not that he'd ever see it, anyways.

You'd both done your best to keep your private lives private, but this kitchen, this kitchen felt like family. It wasn't long before the glances between you both, the poorly timed arrivals and departures from the place began to add up.

Sydney was the first to notice, she didn't even say a word. She'd just seen the way you looked at him, how you'd light up when he praised your food, how your body reacted when he'd place a hand on your back to move behind.

Sydney was always observant when it came to you.

She didn't need to say anything, anyway. Tina coined on soon enough and then it was all over. Obviously, she told Richie, who told Fak, and the rest was history.

You and Carmy never confirmed or denied at work, but at least you didn't need to try and hide the way you felt about him. If they saw you kiss in the car before work, everyone just let it be (most of the time anyway, Jerimovich).

The confirmation never came because, well, you'd also never confirmed it just the both of you. He wasn't your boyfriend, there was no real label to what was happening.

You were two people who wanted everything to do with one another and very much enjoyed the other's company. That was simply that.

Any given night of the week, you could be found curled up on Carmy's chest either at his apartment or yours. Any of the other nights, you were probably underneath him or perched in his lap crying his name.

Neither of you felt the need to force a label on it.

-

By the time Claire showed up, things had become- different?

Carmy had been good about it, really good about it, he'd told you straight away that he'd seen her again and he had feelings for her. You'd both spoken at lengths over the dinner table about what this meant and the decision was mutual.

There was no label on it, he never belonged to you.

The rest of the family were harder to convince that this was for the best. Richie had actually walked out when you'd explained that you and Carmy had stopped 'seeing' each other.

Sydney couldn't deny she'd felt initial shock about it, too. It sort of blindsided her, but then there was a little something in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't- wouldn't name.

It was actually her that tried to have the 'come to Jesus' speech with you about Carmy.

"I'm not above begging, you need to start fucking that man again."

You nearly spat your coffee out, leaning against the front counter watching Sydney pace back and forth. "What on earth are you-"

"It was so much easier when it was you and Carmy," She stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to look at you. "Since Claire turned up he's been impossible."

Even you had to admit that you'd noticed a change in Carmy since Claire showed up. He was so distant, he was hard to tie down, he seemed more on edge. He reminded you more of the Carmy that first arrived at this restaurant all that time ago.

It was a shame, you thought, he'd been doing so well.

You wiped a drip of coffee off the side of your mug as you placed it down beside you. "I really don't think me fucking Carmy is the answer."

Sydney gave a small shrug that almost came off as agreement. She wouldn't say it out loud but it definitely wasn't her first option, it wasn't even her second. If Sydney had it her way, she didn't want to think about Carmy's hands on you again.

And she'd thought about it. A lot.

"Something has to give, I don't think I can handle him canceling one more plan."

You sighed, a full-chested sigh that conveyed you felt her frustration. Pushing yourself off the counter, you placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder. If you were her, you would've felt the pure electricity that radiated off your touch.

"I'll at least talk to him, how about that?"

The talk didn't really do much. Carmy promised to do better, there was an apology in there somewhere. But you come to find out days later that'd he'd bitched out on another plan with Sydney.

Men, can't live with them!

It was in his office (without him of course, he was with Claire) with Sugar and Sydney that you'd all made up your minds. Well, you planted the idea and it grew from there.

"Lets just go get a drink, I don't think tonight is worth wasting any more energy."

Sugar jumped at the chance, already walking back out front to grab her purse. Sydney needed a little more convincing, her spirits a little crushed and her soul a little tired.

You'd managed to hush her up, giving her marching orders to get in your car and look like she was enjoying herself. Which, she ended up doing.

The booth was a little sticky and the music was a little shitty, the lights were so dim you could hardly see but you were having fun. Even Sydney had to admit she was having fun.

"Okay, fine! I'm having fun!"

Sugar let out a squeal of excitement, bringing your glasses together to cheers. "Here's to forgetting my little shit of a brother!"

After she said it, she turned to you with an apology on her tongue. "Oops."

You laughed it off, raising your glass and taking a sip. "No harm done, remember, we were-"

"Never togetherrrr." Sugar finished for you. "So you keep saying."

You just shook your head, calling the waitress over for another round. You ordered for yourself and Sydney before Sugar stopped you from getting hers. "Don't worry, Pete's on his way."

The three of you needed each other, needed this bond, needed these drinks, needed this moment. Regardless of your feelings towards Carmy, you'd all been scorned by him in some way, shape, or form.

It even felt good to hear Sydney get her real feelings off her chest.

"And you know what? Not to sound un-girls-girl, but fuck Claire!"

It was met with a quiet "fuck her!" from Sugar.

"She comes to the restaurant, she's just staaaaanding there, she knows she's taking up all his time."

All of you needed to get it out, you maybe the least. You knew it was hard for everyone else to understand, but you really didn't hold any resentment towards Carmy. Maybe a little, for leaving the kitchen high and dry. But really, you just enjoyed the memories of you two.

You and Sydney were a halfway through your new drinks when Sugar stood from the booth, grabbing her bag.

"Alright, I love you two more than life itself but I must depart!" You laughed as the tequila spoke for her.

"Bye, Shug!" You called after her as she waved and blew kisses at the both of you before disappearing through the door.

Leaving just you and Sydney alone at the table, you smiled at her as she intensely studied the grain of the wood. Sooner or later, she looked up and caught your gaze.

"Are you actually okay with Carmy and Claire?"

You smiled, earnestly. "Yes, I'm frustrated that it's upsetting you, but I'm inherently fine with it."

Sydney swallowed hard, you would've been able to hear it if the Brooks & Dunn in the bar wasn't so loud. She rolled the edge of her glass around the table before she spoke up.

"I just don't know how he's so okay with it."

You immediately thought she meant his letting the restaurant slide. But you knew Sydney, you knew her just enough that you could tell there was something sitting below the surface. You cared enough to implore it.

"Okay with what?"

She pulled her lip between her teeth before she looked up at you, like she was staring into the sun.

"With letting you go."

Your face softened, enough that she noticed. But Sydney also quickly noticed that it was a look of pity. That stung enough to make tears well on her waterline.

Pulling your jacket over your shoulders, you began to shuffle out of the booth. "I'll settle the tab and then I'll drive you home."

Sydney had never felt more like a tall child.

The lights of Chicago blurred past her eyes as you weaved through the streets. It wasn't lost on Sydney that you drove with one hand, the one closest to her was free and resting on your thigh.

She wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold onto it, maybe move it to her own thigh. As if you could read her mind, she caught the way your eyes flickered over to hers.

Slowly but surely, you lifted your free hand but instead brought it to the dial on the radio. As you turned it, she could hear the music in the car consuming her.

'And when I'm back in Chicago I feel it...'

She expected you to pull your hand back to your own leg but instead you reached over the gap of the centre console. Your hand brushed against hers as you took hold of it, squeezing it once and leaving the weight of it in hers.

Sydney knew that she had her chance, so she simply squeezed back and wrapped her other hand around yours with it. She held you tightly, like you were precious. Because you were.

She rested your hands in her lap, leaving them there against the soft fabric of her trousers as you continued you navigate the streets with one hand. When you pulled up outside her house, Sydney physically felt herself deflate.

Not only did you have to draw your hand back to kill the ignition, you'd reached the destination. It was up to her now to pull herself from the warm hold of your car and retreat to her room alone.

She weighed up the level of damage involved with throwing all caution to the wind right now. She figured she could just turn to you and let it out. Sydney could do something for herself for once.

As she balled up the courage in her chest, she didn't realise how long you'd both been sitting in silence until you finally spoke.

"Are you going to invite me up?"

-

And then Carmy loses his rag when he's locked in the chiller.

He laments about his failures, how much Claire had blinded him. He'd thrown your name in the mix, he'd apologised (for whatever reason) and decided his great epiphany.

If he'd never left you then none of this would've happened.

You weren't sure if he meant locking himself in the chiller or just everything in general. You weren't even in the kitchen at the time, this was all secondhand from Richie.

At the time Carmy was bearing his heart and soul to you, you were out the back of the restaurant holding back Sydney's braids as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"I'm so sorry, this is so gross-"

"Don't apologise to me, how long has this been going on?"

The sound of the door screeching open tore your attention back over your shoulder.

"You really need to get in here- oh, what the fuck?"

"Richie, shut the fuck up. Can you get us some water?"

He grimaced a little at the sight in front of him but you pushed him with a flash of anger across your face. Yes, it was gross, but there weren't that many parts of Sydney you weren't fond of.

Even the ones that weren't pretty.

By the time Richie had come out with the water glass, he'd pressed even further how much you needed to get back into that kitchen. You knew it must've been bad if he wasn't even willing to tell you the details.

When you saw Claire by the chiller, you were moments away from asking for an explanation. You swallowed the words quickly as her face lit up in a hot rage, wet with tears. Before you could even think, she was turning on her heel to march out of the kitchen and back through the dining room.

What the actual fuck was happening?

It was a messy wee thing for you all to deal with, but deal with it you did. Sure, there was irreparable damage between Claire and Carmy (and you, by association), but the kitchen was stronger than ever.

And Sydney was happy again, back to having Carmy's attention and support at work. You saw the way she moved, her shoulders free of tension as she worked at her station. You just liked seeing her happy.

Sydney was happy, she was very pleased to be rid of the distraction that was forcing the kitchen apart. However, there was a gnawing little pit of jealousy that lived in her stomach and threatened to force its way out.

With Claire gone, there was nothing keeping you and Carmy apart.

She'd had you once, one perfect night. You'd been splayed out in the centre of her bed, her name falling off your lips as she settled in between your legs. She'd had a taste of you, and you weren't something she could just be okay with letting go of.

You were built from perfection.

So she waited, she waited for the other shoe to drop. There is always another shoe. Sure enough, no matter how hard Sydney tried to hide from it, it inevitably found her.

You and Carmy had arrived in the morning, same time, already laughing about something as you came through the door. That's all she needed, that feeling in her stomach expanded until she could barely breathe.

She caught the way Tina smiled at you both, a knowing smile. That cemented it for Sydney, if Tina had noticed it too, there was no doubt that it was unfolding in front of her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.

And why should she stop it? You were happy! So was Carmy! And he was back to being fully present in the kitchen just like she wanted. But she'd be damned if she could get the thoughts of him touching you out of her head.

Touching you like she wanted to do. Like she'd done once, so fucking well.

Sydney wondered if Carmy really cared when he touched you? From the moment she held you she knew she wanted nobody else to do it, not the way she had. And now knowing that she had to share you? She felt like her head was going to spin right off.

She wondered what'd happen, when you finally told Carmy about what happened between the two of you. If you even would tell him. Did it mean as much to you as it did to her? Did it cross your mind every night like it did hers? Did you touch yourself as you lay in bed, reminiscing over that night like she did?

Probably not, she decided. You probably had Carmy to touch you, to hold you, and that would be consuming your mind. Sydney figured herself out to be an afterthought, a fun night that was never meant to become anything else.

When everyone was shutting the kitchen down and you were walking towards her across the dining room, Sydney braced for the worst. Silently, you helped her with the place settings until you spoke up.

"I told Carmy about us, about you and I."

In some sick way, all Sydney could really focus on was the fact that, even in the smallest form, there was an 'us.'

Without lifting her head, she continued to work on the cutlery. "And what does he think?"

You snorted a quiet laugh through your nose, a sound that should not have made flowers bloom in Sydney's chest. She couldn't breathe.

"He was jealous, I don't think he liked the idea of someone touching me like he does."

Sydney couldn't stop herself before her mouth opened. "Wonder what that's like."

In her peripheral vision, she could see your whole body still. Slowly, she trailed her eyes up the length of your body until they fixed on your face. Wounded, you looked wounded.

A sicker part of Sydney liked the idea of you finally knowing how she felt.

"I am so sorry, I never meant-"

"No, it's fine-" She cut you off, standing up to full height and brushing her hands on the front of her chef's whites. "I should've never got so attached."

"Sydney, please let me-"

"It was always meant to be you and Carmy, and now it is. Anyways, isn't this what I wanted?"

As she begin to walk away, leaving you alone in the dining room, Sydney mulled the same question over in her head.

Isn't this what she wanted?

-

"I just feel fucking terrible."

Your hands splayed out against Carmy's chest, fine hairs under your fingertips and inky tattoo's muddling against your skin. He held you so tightly as you rolled your hips in his lap.

"Don't worry about it, baby." He responded, breath a little clipped as he fucked up into you. "She said it's what she wanted."

You rolled your eyes before your eyes rolled back, Carmy's cock hitting the exact spot you needed it to. "You didn't see the look on her face or hear the way she said it-"

"To be honest, sweetheart, I don't really want to be visualising Syd when I'm balls deep in you."

Snapping your gaze down to his, you realised pretty quickly that you shouldn't have. Carmy looked incredible, eyes blown out, sheen of sweat across his skin as he put all his energy into fucking you. Ignoring the pang it sent to your stomach, you used the leverage of his shoulders to bounce on him.

"I really fucked up, Carm. I knew how much she was into me and I was selfish about it."

You couldn't really be sure he was listening to you, with the way his hands were running up your front to tweak at your nipples. You tried not to give away what it was doing to you, but a few whimpers escaped your lips, regardless.

It wasn't lost on you the way the corner of Carmy's lip quirked up at that. He took his eyes off your body to fix on your own, fighting for your attention as he kept rolling your hips against his.

"Selfish? What were you missing me or something?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, hand leaving his shoulder to playfully smack his cheek. It immediately conjured a groan from deep within his chest, a sound that hit you right in the middle of your stomach and made your hips falter.

"You're bad, Carmen."

"Yeah?" He questioned you, hands gripping your hips to lift you slightly, increasing the pace of his own thrusts. "Well you're worse."

You wanted to argue with him, you had it on the tip of your tongue but the minute he started jackhammering his hips into you- it was gone in an instant.

"Missed me so fucking bad that you got into bed with Sydney. You laid back and let her put her mouth all over you, because you couldn't get what you wanted from me."

The words were crazy, he was speaking pure insanity but the way his cock hit deep inside you was enough to curb your arguing. The minute you tried to open your mouth, a pathetic moan slipped right off your tongue.

"Thaaaat's right," He cooed, goading you into more embarrassing little sounds. "You missed the way this felt so you had to go get it wherever you could."

It was a lot, it was nearly too much for you to handle. Right as you thought you were slipping, that he was going to win eternal bragging rights, you found your own again. Tensing tight, you made sure to choke Carmy's cock on his next thrust.

The man beneath you froze, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering as you clenched around him. Finding yourself, you pressed your hands back on his pecs as you bounced in his lap.

"Not quite, Carmen," His name dripping like silk off your tongue. "Sure, you might've decided to fuck off on me but it's not like I was hard up on options."

Carmy tried to respond, but it was his turn for the words to get lost in his throat. His hips bucked up into you, cock twitching at the feeling of you gripping him even tighter.

"Look at me," You ordered, his eyes shooting open to take in the sight of you above him. "Do you really think someone that looks like me, looks as good as I do right now would be hard up?"

You caught the slight shake of his head, the way his hands fixed back on your waist and pulled you down on him with every bounce. He was desperate, the way he speared you straight on his cock was sending shockwaves right through you but you fought to remain in control.

"I could've had anyone I wanted and I chose Sydney, because I've seen the way she looks at me."

You leaned down, lips up close to his ear as you spoke. This close, you could hear him whimpering for you, the heady sounds emanating from within him.

"I fucked Sydney because I needed someone to treat me the way I deserve. When she had her mouth on me, it felt like I was being worshipped."

Carmy squirmed under you, you'd been in this position enough times to know exactly what was going to happen. His lips fell open and the string of incoherent moans you'd know him for began sounding.

"And you know what, Carmen?"

You could hear him chanting quiet little sounds of 'what, tell me baby?' as you spurred him on.

"I think you both need to learn how to share."

A visual splashed across Carmy's mind. The sight of you, face down ass up. Your mouth between Sydney's spread legs as her head crushed into the pillow. Carmy's hands pulling your hips back onto his as he fucked you roughly from behind. The both of them sharing you.

All of a sudden, Carmy pulled you down into his lap and launched his hips up. His head tipped back, his mouth fell open as he came deep inside you. Your name was the only thing he remembered how to say as he shot several hot ropes of cum into you.

The sight of it was something to behold, your hand falling down to rub between your legs as you felt him finish in you. It was all enough to push you right over the edge, head dropping into the crook of his neck as you reached your own peak.

As you came down, you felt Carmy's hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. The blood rushing around your ears was dissipating and you could only just register he was speaking.

"Huh?" You asked quietly, lips gently pressing against the skin of his shoulder.

"You can have it," He repeated, fingernails gently scratching up your spine. "Whatever you want, you can have it."

-

Apologies were an uncomfortable beast. Carmy was coming to terms with them a little better, after a bit of self reflection. He figured they made him uncomfortable because they were necessary.

For you, you were feeling lucky that Sydney was the forgiving type. You’d fully expected her to ask you to go fuck yourself when you’d attempted your apologies. Nice enough, she’d been quick to forgive.

In her eyes, she just wanted whatever part of you she could get her hands on.

That was probably why she was here right now. Back in this bar with you, the bar that (as far as she was concerned) was the beginning of everything.

That’s why she was also astonishingly fine with Carmy being here too. She was even sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. It was then you noticed they were moving in sync, the way they both raised their glasses to their lips at the same time.

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the two, shitty music making up for the lack of conversation and dim light dancing across the both of them.

They looked good this way, this is how they were almost meant to look. Content? Beautiful?

Looking like everything you ever wanted.

So it was a natural course of events, when the three of you later burst through the door of Carmy’s bedroom. You stopped at the end of his bed, trapped between the two of them.

Carmy’s chest to your back, Sydney pressing firmly to your front. Trapped.

Trapped, but completely willing.

Hot, physically and theoretically. The heat that was radiating off the both of them was consuming you. Sydney's hands were desperately working up the front of your shirt, feeling across your chest to cover any stretch of skin that she could.

Carmy's hands were on the waist of your jeans, undoing the button and fly as he dove down the front of them. His strong, skilled fingers felt you through the thin barrier of your underwear.

Your head tipped back, resting on one of Carmy's shoulders. Sydney took her chance, bridging the gap and closing her lips on your throat. You could feel her sucking at the skin, teeth gently running along the column of your throat.

The unmistakable feeling of Carmy hardening against your ass was ever present in the back of your mind. As Sydney worked you up, Carmy was pushing your jeans down your thighs, pressing his cock further into the split of your ass.

His lips came to your left ear, you could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. "You look so fucking good like this, feel so fucking good."

As his fingers began to breach the front of your underwear, it was Sydney that was making moves on your right ear. "Been dying to taste you again, once wasn't ever gonna' be enough."

Your hips bucked up into Carmy's hand as he stroked you slowly, Sydney's teeth gently gripping your earlobe. It was overwhelming, the bother of you whispering exactly what you needed to hear, working together.

They worked well together, one glimpse into the kitchen and you could tell they worked well together. But even now, the way they were touching you, talking to you- they were the perfect team.

"On the bed, sweetheart." Carmy spoke as he drew his hands from your underwear.

Sydney stepped aside to let you move, watching you kick off your jeans as you moved to the bed. She moved towards you briefly, helping you pull your shirt off over your head and throw it to the side.

As she moved back beside Carmy, you stared up at the both of them under half-lidded eyes. Carmy had stripped down to his underwear, a large hand gently palming his cock through his briefs. He moved to the end of the bed, gripping your ankle and pulling you towards him.

"Get down here, Syd." He ordered, as if they were running the pass.

She was quick to follow the order, kneeling down beside him with her hand wrapping around your other leg. They both pulled you in closer, Carmy taking the initiative to get rid of your underwear.

Sydney reached forward, her hand running up your stomach gently enough to leave goosebumps. "You're un-fucking-believable."

You laughed, just quietly, head rolling around on the mattress as they both stared at you like your next meal. Not waiting for another instruction, Sydney brought her mouth against your entrance and gave you one long lick.

Head tipping back, hips raising, your mouth flew open with a string of moans. Her tongue was unbelievable, moving across you quickly but not failing to miss a single spot.

You could feel the familiar prodding of Carmy's fingers, moving under Sydney's tongue so they could work together. Two of his thick fingers breached your entrance, curling up as Sydney's tongue kept up it's ministrations.

"That feel good, baby?" Carmy's voice snapped you back into reality. "Feel good when we share you?"

All you could do was nod, nod furiously as you rolled your hips down to feel more of their combined efforts. Your hand gently reached behind Sydney's head, pulling her in closer till you were effectively humping her face.

"Yeah, that's right- let her have it." Carmy cooed, his fingers still pumping into you whilst his other hand was pressed to his crotch.

Sydney only moaned, the vibrations hitting you straight on and sending a surge to the pit of your stomach. Carmy could feel the way you were clenching, being well versed with your body he knew exactly what was on the way.

So when you whined at the feeling of him withdrawing his fingers, he was quick to shut you up by man-handling you up the bed. "Hush, you're so fuckin' spoilt."

And you knew he was right, everything you wanted you always got it. That's why you were settled back against the pillows, watching him strip off his boxers whilst Sydney's shirt was being discarded.

You quietly slipped a hand between your legs, gathering the wetness from Sydney's spit to rub yourself. Your eyes fluttered, head tipping back into the plush bed as you watched Sydney reveal more skin to you.

"Baby can't even wait a fuckin' minute?" Carmy questioned, kneeling on the bed to grip your hips.

In a swift motion, he flipped you over. Still holding your hips, he pulled them up until you were face down with your back arched. He could always get you exactly how he wanted you.

Sydney came around the bed, sitting in front you with her hand coming to cup your jaw. "You deserve everything you want."

As she cooed at you, she leaned in just enough to press her lips against yours. You could hear the sigh from Carmy, no doubt rolling his eyes as Sydney quickly gave into you.

Sydney knew your games just as well as he did. Difference was, she didn't mind. She'd feed into you for as long as you let her.

Your mouth dropped and a moan slipped onto Sydney's tongue as you felt the head of Carmy's cock pressing against your entrance. As he eased into you, your eyes began to roll back, hands shooting out to grip Sydney's thighs.

"Want- ah fuck- want to taste you." Your voice sounded breathy and desperate.

Sydney eased herself back, legs spreading around you as you hungrily dove to get your tongue on her. Without wasting a second, you ran your tongue from her entrance to her clit and listened keenly for the sounds she made.

Looking up from under your tired eyes, you saw the blissed expression on her face. Both your arms hooked around her thighs, lips closing around her clit to suck gently.

Carmy fully sunk himself into you, giving you a second to adjust to the stretch. Soon, he was rolling his hips in a steady rhythm that was sending you even closer to Sydney's cunt.

You felt a large hand splay across your lower back, Carmy soothing you as he began to speed up. He fucked you hard, watching the way you clenched around his cock and moved your head quicker between Sydney's legs.

This is what he'd imagined, this was exactly what he'd thought of that night (and honestly, a couple of other times in the shower before work). This was a sight he could get used to.

Carmy wasn't all too keen on sharing you, he had an underlying penchant for jealousy when it came to you. But as he watched Sydney cup a hand around the back of your head, as he heard you moan directly into her core, as he watched you fuck yourself back onto him.

He figured this was definitely worth a little hit of jealousy.

Sydney's hips rolled up to meet your mouth, her backside lifting off the bed as she pulled you down against her. Quiet little whimpers of your name were drifting perfectly off her lips. Her eyes were switching between fluttering shut and fixing dreamily on you.

You could feel the hint of your release working it's way up your body. Strengthening your grip on Sydney's thighs, you pulled her in tight so you could suck at her clit, listening for what it did to her.

"Holy- fuck- oh God- I'm gonna' cum-"

Looking up at her, you found her eyes on yours. Drawing back just a little, you laid your tongue flat against her before running it up, flicking the tip of it against her clit and watching her eyes screw shut.

Sydney rode your face through her orgasm, the feeling running red hot through you. You could hear the faint sounds of Carmy talking you through it. "That's it, make her cum- you're doing so good."

His words were too much, coupled with the taste of Sydney on your tongue and the feeling of her gripping tight onto you. Your hips began to roll back against Carmy, desperately searching for the relief you needed.

Feeling his hand wrap underneath you, Carmy began stroking you towards your orgasm. His chest came to press against your back as he spoke in your ear. "Come on, baby- that's it- cum for us."

Eyes going a blinding white, you felt yourself collapsing into Sydney's lap as your orgasm overtook you. Gripping tight around Carmy, you threw your hips back against him as he pressed himself flush to you.

You felt him twitch inside you, a string of curses leaving his lips as he came for you. You felt his hot cum hitting deep inside of you, leaving you feeling completely full. All you had left to do was fall, splayed out, in the centre of the bed, totally fucked out.

Carmy was the one that cleaned you up, but it was Sydney that brought you the glass of water and tucked you up. You felt her soft kisses against your forehead and by the time you opened your eyes, you could see she was already fully dressed.

You reached out for her, grasping her hand gently before mumbling something about "we should do this again."

Faint sounds of her laughing about that with Carmy caught your ears, but the sleep was taking over too much for you to be able to understand the joke.

When Carmy joined you in bed, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you close to him, you managed one more mumble before you finally crashed out.

"You guys work really, really, well together."