#reader is new clown employee

[strawberryspotsstuff]

Can you make a yucko x new female clown reader, the reader is a new employee at the circus but only works part time because of college (the reader is 18 - 19ish btw), she is paired up with yucko for one of the performances in the tent but during the performance goz notices something about yucko during the performance and how he is weirdly sincerely happy with with y/n so goz tries to play matchmaker with yucko and y/n, yucko may think it’s annoying and embarrassing but y/n thinks it’s funny and sweet, could you write something like that?

-curious anon

ooo i love the in depth ask :00

ver cute i cant wait to write this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Yuck0 x Female! Clown! Reader

Humming softly to the upbeat tunes of the music, your made your way through the populated crowd. Little kids stopped and gawked at your colourful outfit, your bright nose and crazy hair-do. Waving brightly at them as you passed, bells that were tied to your shoes knocked together creating soft chimes.

Making your way to the one and only Circus which stood high and mighty at the back of the carnival, the iconic red and white stripes and blue ribbons which got tussled from the wind. You made your way to the back of the tent, a small staff's area was sectioned off with plastic chairs and boxes of outfits which were laid on the dirty grass. Bee-lining to the small chalk board, it had the colourful, bubble writing (probably G0z) which had the schedule of everyone's performances.

Scanning through the names it seemed like... you were paired up from Yuck0! Personally, you have never met the fellow, only meeting G0z on your first day, but it was good to branch out!

"who the hell is.. y/n" a low, almost displeased voice grumbled next to her, she titled her head to eye the the other co-worker, her braids falling in front of her face as she blinked owlishly.

"That's me!" You happily answered, holding out your hand.

The other clown rose his brows, but his expression didn't change from the deep frown on his face.

"right. Uh, we're both together, seconded act" He mumbled, you happily clapped your hands.

"Awesome, I can't wait!"

G0z watched from the sidelines as the new clown and Yuck0 performed. He worried for Y/N, it was only her seconded day and he paired her with Yuck0, he prayed that they worked well together and to his surprise Yuck0 was smiling?

Giggling softly, at the once grumpy clown now smiling along with the newly employed clown as they performed for the little kids.

"YAY!! GO YUCK0 AND Y/N!" He happily cheered, leaning over the railing and cheering

Yuck0 faces flushed with embarrassment as he kept his gaze on the ground, crossing his arms, but you happily saluted to him, giggling.

"THANK YOU G0Z!" You cheered back, the kids the giggling and laughing as you picked them up and made them their balloon animals.

"That's so embarrassing" Yuck0 groaned, pressing shoulders with you, trying not to look at G0z.

You laughed, ruffling his head, some of kids teasing the blushing man.

"Daww, G0z was just being nice" You cooed softly.

Yuck0 rolled his eyes, sighing. His face flushed a soft pink "I guess so.."

[lenathekiller]

*~Filling the Loneliness~*

A Buggy x gn!reader

Tags: mix of angst, smut and fluff basically, a bit of voyeurism too

A/n: excuse mistakes I'm very rusty at writing but this damn clown has a chokehold on my mind. I wrote this with LABuggy in mind but it could fit Anime buggy as well tbh. The only derogatory word the user is called is sl*t and it's only used once.

Word count: 6683

It was just another day of work, managing the costume shop that you'd come to own somehow. It was a relatively good sized shop, selling a variety of clothing one might use for performances or wear to the masquerade themed parties the town held every week.

Your little costal town had been unofficially deemed a safe space for pirates to come dock without having to worry about being captured for bounty or fought off by other pirates. Hence why the town threw celebrations themed around casting aside one's identity to just enjoy a night of drinking and having fun without a worry for their own safety.

You never cared to attend the celebrations, instead using the time to do trivial tasks around the shop like checking inventory or working on new masks or makeups to sell. You were doing such right now infact.

Behind the counter you sat, working on some paperwork you needed to finish, calculating what had sold best this week compared to last week.

"Welcome in!" You called out when you heard the squeaking of the shop's old door opening, but did not glance up to check whom had come in. "I'll be with you in a moment, feel free to look around and let me know if you need any assistance finding what you need."

Footsteps approached the counter followed by the creaking of someone leaning against the counter across from you. "Actually doll you can help me, I came to get my usual order of things. So where's ole Petey?"

Keeping your eyes still glued to your papers you continued to work as you replied. "That old coot's dead. Died bout 3 weeks ago after drinking himself into a damn stupor and falling into the sea. So I'm in charge of this place now unfortunately, seeing as I was his only employee."

You heard a chuckle "That damn old man. I tried to warn him something would happen but I suppose he got what he deserves after partying too hard even at his old age."

"Got that right. Sure he was a good boss but the bastard drank more than any pirate that visits town." You scoffed finishing up your work and setting it aside. Finally looking up you instantly recognized the man before you. "Now how can I help- oh it's you."

The man stood up straight, fixing his coat proudly with a grin. "I see you know of the Great and flashy Buggy. Of course you would, I mean who wouldn't?"

Placing a hand on your hip as you stood from your seat, smiling back at the Clown pirate. "The boss never seemed to shut up about you, constantly talking about how you were his best customer.... amongst other things I'd rather not repeat."

His face fell a bit at your hinting of the old owner saying less than honorable things about him.

"Don't worry, I never took his rambling of you to heart. He was always a cranky drunkard who'd complain about anything or anyone he could." You reached over and patted Buggy on the shoulder reassuringly, before motioning to the backroom with a thumb. "Thankfully that man made notes about his regulars preferences so I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab em real quick so I can get you what you need without all the hassle of you having to explain your likes and dislikes of products to me."

The tall clown gave a nod, watching you disappear into the back of the shop. Taking the opportunity to glance around at the stock around him, mentally taking note of what had changed since he'd last been here about 3 months ago.

After a few minutes you returned holding his wanted poster, reading the scrawling of notes written on the back of it. "Let's see, looks like you prefer the typical Circus clown makeup, of course long lasting and as smudge proof as possible. Though we don't carry one of these brands anymore...-" You were deep in thought now mumbling as you moved around the shop grabbing the items noted on Buggy's preference sheet.

The said Clown Pirate stood leaning on the front counter, watching you zip around like a little mouse searching for all the usual products he buys. He had to admit you looked quite cute all worked up and focused on your job like that.

"The only thing we don't have from this list is the white face paint, but have no fear my good man for you're in luck." You placed down the small basket of products before him. You gave a small 'boop' to his nose with your finger before proudly crossing your arms. "I happen to make my own white face paint, and am willing to give you my latest batch if your interested."

"Oh really? And just what do you know about clown makeup little shop keep?" He asked you smugly, with a smirk

"A lot more than you think bozo. I was a mime for ten years, hence my fashion sense idiot." You gestured to yourself and your choice of clothing.

He admittedly hadn't really paid attention to what exactly you were wearing, more distracted by your actions and words. Though now he could see you were wearing black pants, that were doing wonders to make your thighs look great, and a oversized longsleeved striped black and white shirt, with some subtle mime makeup. "Huh. I hadn't even noticed."

You stood there silent for a second, before reaching up to pat his cheek a bit mockingly. "It's a good thing your attractive, cause you sure aren't that observant are ya bud?"

The man was thrown off guard at the fact you'd just complimented him, albeit also insulting him along with it. Usually he's the one being somewhat cheeky and flirty to others with no prevail, but here you were just casually complimenting him like it was nothing.

You moved back behind the counter, pulling a container of white paint, a handheld mirror, a few brushes as well as sponges, and a damp rag. "Well here let me show you just what I actually know about clown makeup."

Before Buggy could even process what was going on, you'd already snatched his head off his shoulders, now holding it between your hands. "Hey- Just what do you think your doing?!" He spat out at you in an annoyed tone, head already trying to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Take it easy hot stuff, you're too tall for me to do your makeup if your standing. I'm simply making this easier for both of us." You took a seat in your chair, laying Buggy's head on your lap between your thighs so he was facing upwards. "If you're a good boy who stays still I may even give you treat."

"Forward aren't we? Already putting my head between your legs and I've only just met you. I mean I know I'm flashy and all but I didn't realize I was having such an affect on you babe." He teases as the both of blush a bit at the position your in.

"Oh shut up, fool. Only in your dreams would your head actually be allowed between my legs in such a sinful manner." You cut off any reply he could give by begining to gently wipe the makeup off his face with the damp rag you'd pulled out previously. You made sure not to rub too hard as you scrubbed his face clean, though the red on his nose wasn't coming off at all.

He picked up on your confusion, rolling his eyes and sighing a bit annoyed. "That's not makeup sweetheart. My nose is just naturally big and red."

You smiled sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I knew it was your natural nose I just didn't think it was naturally red as well."

"Yea yea, crack your jokes now about it so I don't have to hear them later" His eyes were looking elsewhere as he spoke, avoiding your gaze as much as he could.

You paused, looking into his eyes till he eventually gave in, making eye contact with you. "Why would I joke about something you can't control or change about yourself?"

"Cause everyone else does so why wouldn't you as well?" He stated matter of factly, while studying your gaze, seeing a flash of hurt for him in your eyes.

"Well, I'm not everyone else." Shifting your gaze to look at his nose for a second, and smiling faintly as you spoke. "In fact I think it's cute to be honest. Seeing it up close somewhat makes me want to give you a kiss right on it."

Buggy was well and truly lost for words now, just a blushing mess that was forced to look right at you. You just let him stay like that, giggling softly at his cheeks that seemed to be almost as red as his nose, before you finally gave him some sort of mercy by applying new makeup to his warmed face. The both of you stayed silent during the whole thing, you concentrating on the paint you were applying to Buggy's face as his head laid there in your lap, him studying every inch of your face as you worked.

He had to admit he was trying to memorize every little detail of your face, from the color of your eyes, to every little twitch of your lips while you focused, the way your tongue would poke out slightly and brow furrowed when you were painting thinner lines. He was trying to savor this moment while he could, knowing there was never a moment like this before nor would he ever possibly experience anything like this again. No one was or ever would treat him with such care and attention as you were currently, this truly was a once in a lifetime thing for him and he wanted to remember it forever.

Eventually you finished, putting down the paint brushes, and lifting the clowns head up in your hands to admire your masterpiece. A smile formed on your lips as you stood, moving to reunite Buggy's head to his body again and handed him the handheld mirror.

"Pretty good huh?" You spoke as he looked at your handy work.

You did the exact same look he had on before but there was a noticeable difference between his work and yours. His makeup had looked more messy and somewhat smudged before, as if he practically lived in it, where as now the lines were crisp and colors vibrant. He looked like a clown people would smile and laugh with, no longer one people feared instantly.

"Damn sweetheart, you're even better with your hands than I thought." He teased as he handed you back the mirror, giving you a wink and click of his tongue.

You winked back at him with a smirk. "Don't give me all the credit, I mean I had quite the attractive canvas to work with."

"You seem to really enjoy flattering me." His head cocked curiously at you "Or are you just this flirty with all your customers?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, starting to clean up the counter and repackage the products you used on him. "Nah, just you Buggy. I guess you could say I have a thing for clowns."

A floating hand grabbed your chin gently, guiding your gaze back to it's owner, whom was now leaning in dangerously close to your face. "Hmm, well too bad for you. I don't have a thing for chatty mimes."

He could have sworn your gaze had flicked to his lips for a moment before you licked your own, but he'd chalk it up to his desperately lonely mind imagining things. The hand let you go, reattaching itself as Buggy stepped back, away from the counter. You took a minute to snap back to reality, then went back to packing up his order.

The pirate began to roam a little, looking at all the different costumes and masks you had displayed around the shop. Maybe he could get a few new outfits for some of the crew before they all head back out to sea in a few days. Hell maybe he'd get himself a new flashier coat too, one that would really wow the audience when he makes his grand entrance every night.

"Got everything you need packed up and ready for you. Did you want to get anything else?" Your voice pulling him from his thoughts and luring him back over to you.

"Was thinking bout a new coat, something flashy, but I'll hold off till tomorrow on that." He spoke, pulling out a few coins to pay you with.

"Oh good! So I will get to see you again." A smile formed on your lips as you took the payment and slid the box of merchandise over to him.

"Of course! I would never deny a fan from seeing my greatness up close in person." He takes a dramatic bow towards you, before placing one hand over his heart. "What kind of performer would I be if I did such a thing?"

You just laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head a bit.

He grabs the box off the counter and headed to the door, turning to bid you farewell. "You've been a wonderful audience, but it's time for me to take my grand exit unfortunately."

"Farewell Captain Buggy. I'll be waiting patiently till your next performance." You give a small round of applause for him as he leaves.

You stand there for a minute or two, replaying the whole interaction in your head, letting out a frustrated cry when you realize something. "FUCK! I NEVER TOLD HIM MY NAME!!"

"Didn't tell whom your name?" A voice says, causing you to jump.

Turning you see famed pirate Mihawk, you jump once more. "Ah! Sorry sir! I didn't hear you come in, my apologies."

"It's quite alright, I will not fault you for being so lost in thought in your own store." He stoically dismissed your concerned apology, removing his hat and placing it on the counter. "I seem to have gotten a bit careless earlier and somehow got a cut in my hat. Am I correct to assume this is the place I can get it fixed up nicely and quickly?"

Looking at the mentioned cut you assessed it was something that you could indeed repair, and quite quickly. "Yes, I do not believe this will take me that long to patch up, and I'll make it as unnoticeable as possible of course. Give me about an hour and I'll have it good as new sir."

"Very good, I shall be back then." He gave a curt nod before leaving, and as soon as he was out the door, you immediately set to work on fixing the hole in his hat.

After one hour had past exactly, Mihawk came strolling back in, gaining the attention of the few locals that had come in to browse.

"Perfect timing I finished a mere moment ago." You handed him back his hat, watching as he inspected your craftsmanship intensely.

A smirk cracked on his lips as he glanced back up at you. "Very well done, you can not even tell it is there unless you look extremely closely at it. Of course no one will ever be close enough for that, so you have my thanks." He placed a hefty amount of money in your hands before leaving.

"Whoa! That guy's intense!" One of locals muttered as they came to the counter.

"Yes he is, but thankfully I was able to do a good repair job." You replied, starting to ring up the items they'd set down.

"He seemed quite pleased with your work, maybe he'd be willing to dance with ya at the celebration tonight." Someone else chimed in, as they got in line to be rung up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That man is much too serious for my liking, I'd feel on edge the whole time." You shuttered slightly at the thought. "I never go to any of the parties in town anyways, but even if I did I'd rather spend my time around someone more akin to Buggy honestly."

A scoff could be heard, followed by a disgusted toned response. "Really that loser? He's a pretty sorry excuse for a pirate don't ya think?"

A few other insults and comments were thrown in agreement by others in the shop.

"HEY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" You shouted, causing everyone to jump and go quiet. "If y'all want to shit talk that man then: GET.. OUT..OF..MY..SHOP!" you put emphasis on those last words, pointing your gaze to each person, whom was just talking, with each word.

A few people gulped in fear at what you might do if they say anything more.

"Captain Buggy is a highly valued customer here, so if you want to run your mouths like that about him in front of me then there will not only be hell to pay, but you will also be banned from my shop for life."

Everyone remained silent and somewhat timid of you until they left the store thankfully.

God did that get you're blood boiling, and you weren't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the clown had just been in here early and then suddenly everyone's throwing around insults about him. Or maybe it was more so the fact that Buggy had wormed into your heart quite easily during the earlier interaction you'd had with him. Whatever it was, it caused you to be uncharacteristically protective of someone other than yourself or the few people you were actually fairly close to. He was risking his life out at sea, putting on showy performances of a lifetime, while everyone in town here just partied and got drunk constantly, yet they'd all looked down upon Buggy in distain.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you began to occupy your time by sketching ideas and designs for costume pieces you could make to sell. Eventually you found yourself drafting up some designs for a flashy coat you'd think a certain blue haired pirate captain might not only enjoy but also look great in.

The squeaking of the door could be heard, pulling you from your current sketching, you looked up to find Buggy back in the shop.

Your face instantly lit up with a smile upon seeing him. "Hey there handsome, I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow."

He smiled back at you, making his way over to lean on the counter across from you. "Well what can I say? I was craving the love of an audience... well that and I realized you never gave me that treat for being a 'good boy' like you said earlier."

"Oh and just what kind of treat would the marvelous Buggy the Clown like?" You stood up, making your way around the counter to stand in front of him, placing your hands on your hips. "Maybe something like a free pair of gloves, or a discount on one of the pricer costume pieces, or maybe even a specially made mask that will fit around your cute nose?" At the mention of his nose you gave it a small 'boop' with your finger.

He gently grabbed the hand you used to tap his nose, holding in his as he looked into your eyes. "Actually I was more so hoping for that kiss you claimed you wanted to give me. Ya know the one you you said you want to give me on my nose you seem to like so much."

"Oh-" You were caught off guard a bit, in a good way however as it caused you to blush. "I suppose I can do that, yea.."

A wide smile grew on his face as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning up to place a small kiss to his bulbus red nose. You'd only pulled back a few inches away from his face, looking into his eyes for a moment before a mutual pull had you both leaning back in and connecting your lips. It was a sweet kiss, that lasted for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two in reality, though it left you both speechless for a moment.

"Uh wow, I um- wasn't expecting that sorry." Buggy said, breaking the calm silence you'd been in.

"Heh, yea me either, but I enjoyed it so don't apologize." You slid your hands up to cup his cheeks on either side of his head. Something felt weird though when you did. "Uh not to ruin the moment but you seem to be missing an ear..."

A nervous chuckle came from him. "Heh, about that..." He stopped speaking for a moment a bit embarrassed as his missing ear seemed to zip out of your back pocket and back to his head. "I kind of left it here earlier."

"When did you put that there?" You were more shocked at how it got his ear into your pocket without you knowing, than you were mad at him for seemingly spying on you.

"I did it while you were distracted with my theatrics of leaving." He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you defending my honor so to speak and felt bad about the whole spying thing after that so I decided to come back."

"Hmm, if you say so~" You squinted at him, being jokingly skeptical of his words.

"I'm willing to make up for the spying in anyway you want." He held his hands up, seemingly in a playful surrender.

You faked thinking really hard for a moment, before smiling and giving your response. "I suppose you can give me another kiss, then I'll forgive you."

A shit-eating grin plastered itself across Buggy's face, while his hands now detached pulled you close to him by your waist. "Oh that I'd me more than happy to do."

The two of you shared in another sweet kiss, this one with a bit more passion pouring from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be the first to pull away, though eventually when your lips had parted from each other's you remained there holding each other still.

A pit started to form in your stomach, the kiss was great sure but you hardly knew him. For all you know he could have a spouse and kids somewhere, yet here you were openly flirting and kissing him without even a second thought. There'd always been a sort of loneliness in you, always craving the love of another but never being able to find it. You had small flings during the time you were a mime, ridding yourself of that lonely feeling for short periods with the fleeting intimacy of your fellow performers. Though it had grown especially harder since you had moved here, to fight off that ache, no longer having the trusted company of others, only visiting pirates that brought danger with them and the townsfolk who only ever seem to care about partying their troubles away.

Then Buggy came in and you couldn't help latching on to the hope that those rumors of him being less of a threatening force were correct. Thinking he might be easier to approach, that he wouldn't be a threat to your own safety, and you could use him easily to fill that void again for at least the night. There would be no worry about catching feelings considering he only comes for supplies every few months from what you'd heard, and he surely would or has met others who catch his eye far better than you ever could.

It was all starting to make you feel guilty the more you thought about it. "I'm sorry Buggy."

His expression flushed with confusion. "Huh? What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry that I don't fear you." You moved out of his grasp slowly, gaze now shifted to the floor.

More confusion. "How is that a bad thing exactly?"

A sigh escaped from you, back now facing the puzzled pirate. "Every other pirate that comes to town leaves me feeling on edge. Sure this town might be big on reputations not mattering here but I can't help but fear for my life around the few pirates that do come in to this little shop. You must have heard the fear I felt earlier over Mihawk's visit, yet I was completely at peace when I saw you. I guess I let the gossip people say about you being less threatening or less strong as others affect how I saw you. I kind of used you somewhat for my own selfish desires today or was at least planning on to."

"What do you mean by that exactly?" You couldn't read his emotion in his voice and you dated not look back at him.

"I've always longed to experience love but I never have been able to. I use to sleep around with my fellow performers to chase off my feelings of loneliness, though I can't do that anymore since I've moved to this town. The pirates bring too much uncertainty with them and the locals are all a bunch of careless party animals, but you've been described as somewhat of a push over. In my subconscious I guess I thought I could use you like a toy to make myself feel better with out caring about your own feelings since we're both pathetic cowards." As you spoke tears began softly falling from your eyes, causing your own makeup to become a mess. "I was wrong to think that though, and I realized it after you kissed me again. You don't deserve to be treated so poorly, especially not by me. I'm sorry Buggy for thinking so little of you, when in reality you are far greater than me."

Silence. No response from the man came, only the sound of you sniffing filled the air for what seemed like forever. Though finally detached gloved hands came to rest on your shoulders, snaking their way up your neck to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears. Handless arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Buggy's head floated Infront of you, looking into your eyes.

"It's okay sweetheart, there's no need to get so worked up over lil ole me. in all honesty I can't blame you or hate you at all for wanting to use me. I mean I would have used you right back." A bit of guilt hid behind his gaze, a small comforting smile on his painted lips. "I know I'm the great Buggy the Clown, but I'm in the exact same boat as you. Searching selfishly for small cures to fix the deep desire of wanting to be loved by someone. I've honestly used so many random people along my journey, never caring how'd they feel when I'd be gone the next day, never to see any of them again. There's no telling if I'd have ended up doing the same to you or not."

Staying there you a moment, both of you processing what you'd each admitted to, you could help but feel drawn to him again. Even if it was wrong of you to do considering all you'd said just now, you couldn't help but to reach up to cup his floating head, guiding his face towards yours again before kissing him.

"I'm sorry, i-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Don't be.." He said, connecting his lips back to yours again.

The kiss quickly turned passionate, it was clear that you both need this right now and there would be no resistance from either one of you. When you'd broken apart for a moment to catch your breaths, Buggy took the chance to spin you around and put himself together again. Now that your chests were pressing together, he recaptured your lips as one hand flew over to lock the shop's door and flip the sign to closed, before coming back to join the other hand in grabbing your ass. Your own hands found their way to his shoulders, one moving to his back as the other moved to softly tug off his bandana.

Tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair, few groans escaped him when you dared to tug at it. The sound only served to light a quickly growing fire of desire in you, which lead you to tug his hair some more in order to gain another few groans from him.

"Damn you really like my hair don't you?" He teased, trailing kisses down to your neck now, finding your sweet spot quickly, nibbling and sucking on it. "Though it's not fair I'm the only one making noise here."

You moaned at the feeling of his mouth marking up your neck, grinding your hips greedily against his, growing desperate for some form of friction between you two.

"Buggy~ pl-please" You whined a bit and he took the hint, using one of his hands to pin your waist against the counter while the other began to rub over your clothed crotch. He pulled his head away from your neck to watch the faces you were making at his touch. He felt he could watch you all day honestly, the way your eyes had become full of lust and your teeth gnawed on your bottom lip, was so mesmerizing to him. His own arousal and desire blossoming as he watched you try to plead with your eyes for him to touch you more. He maybe a killer but he knew how to be nice when he wanted, and thankfully he chose to play nice tonight by giving you what you wanted.

His hand stopped rubbing against your aching clothed loin, moving to undo your pants and pull them down.

When you tried to push your underwear along with them he stopped you. "No no- not yet." He picked you up, placing you so you were sitting at the edge of the counter, as he kneeled down to place his head between his legs. He started planting little kisses and bites along your thigh leading towards your core untill he was about to plant a kiss directly where you needed his touch the most, but instead switched to the other thigh, doing it over and over again to tease you.

"Captain please quit teasing~" you begged, not knowing how much more his little game you could handle before you'd go insane.

"Alright doll, but only cause you asked so nicely." Finally he removed your last bit of clothing covering your needy sex, planting tender kisses that only served to make you crave him even more.

Gradually he began to use his tongue, licking and sucking in all the right places and in all the right ways, drawing out moans from you, that he could only describe as beautiful. All the little moans, whimpers and curses of his name were music to his ears in all honesty, and he knew once he'd gone back out to sea they would haunt his dreams every night till he saw you again.

Of you in turn would be haunted by the memories of the way his mouth felt on you right now, the way it seemed to be effortlessly drawing you closer to your climax. "Buggy~ 'm close" Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, encouraging him to continue what he was currently doing until you had cum. Thankfully he did, letting you reach your high, then lapping up the mess you'd made without any hesitation.

Once he knew you'd come back down from your orgasm, he stood up and guiding you off the counter where you sat, moving to bend you over it instead. Removing his gloves and undoing his pants, his aching member flew around to your mouth while a few of his fingers began to tease your hole.

"Do me a favor babe, suck on that for me and get it nice and slick with your spit while I make sure your stretched out enough here for me to fit."

He didn't need to tell you twice, instantly you took the floating member into your mouth sucking on it and running your tongue over the tip. You took as much as you could into your mouth and throat, using your hand to spread excess drool over what little bit of length you couldn't. As you worked bobbing your head on his cock, he began to work your hole, starting by slowly inserting two of his digits into you, sliding them in and out a bit before scissoring them carefully inside you, and when he felt you were ready enough he inserted a third digit into the equation.

After a bit when he felt you were stretched out enough, and his dick was thoroughly lubed with your spit, he removed himself from both ends of you. Joining himself back together, he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, groans escaping from both of you as he did. His movements were slow and steady to start, letting you get fully accustomed to the feeling of each other.

"Fuck, even with all that preparation your still so tight." He groaned out into your ear, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he started to speed up his pace a little. "You doing okay? Nothing feels uncomfortable right?"

You shook your head, trying to remember how to speak anything but his name. "No- I'm fine- feels so good Buggy"

He plants a few kisses on your shoulder before he stands himself up straight, quickening his pace more till there's an audible slapping sound of your skin slapping against each other's. Just as you both were getting lost in the pleasure and feel of the other one's body, a knock errupts from the door.

The pair of you glance towards the door, seeing Mihawk standing in the window of it. Without even slowing down his thrusting for a second, Buggy detaches his torso and floats it to the door to answer it.

"What do you need?" You hear the clown ask annoyed, probably glaring daggers at the swordsman.

"I came to talk to the shop keep. I wanted to inquire about replacing the plume of my hat." Mihawk responds unfazed by the current situation.

"Really shit head? You can see were in the middle of something obviously, you couldn't wait till tomorrow to ask?" Buggy crosses his arms, now pissed at the man for interrupting you two over something so stupid. "Get lost, and If you bother me again while I'm fucking their brains out, I will kill you and serve them your heart in a pretty little box. Got it!?" With that he slams the door and relocks it, before his torso makes its way back over to you float Infront of you.

"Mmm~ Fuck that was kinda hot, and I loved the way you threatened him babe." You look up to meet his gaze.

"I know, I felt you clench a bit when I said it." He plants a kiss on your lips. "Now, that he's got me all pissed off I'm sorry but I'm gonna take it out on you. Sorry in advance"

He reconnects his body to his hips, gripping tightly onto your waist before picking up the pace of his thrusting till it's almost painful how quickly he's plunging in and out of you. Your hips are being harshly pressed into the counter's edge by force of his pounding, your brain going numb, only capable of barely forming his name on your lips occasionally or producing various loud groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the hectic mess of your mind trying to keep ahold of what's going on, you realize you'd cum again, which only furthered the overstimulated mess of pleasure you'd become.

"Nng- Bu-ah-gy~" It was no use, you were desperately trying to beg him to slow down a little but words were far out of your reach in your current state.

"Shhh sweetheart" His removed head came up to rest beside your own to comfort you. "Only a little longer baby, I promise. I'm gonna cum soon and then we can take a break ok? You want me to come in you, right? Want me to make you mine, don't you?"

He weakly nodded in response as he kissed you, your mouths seemingly melding into one.

Finally his hips ceased all movement, burying himself as deep as he could before releasing into you. "Good slut~ see, doesn't it feel so nice to have my cum in you?"

Finally you regained the ability to speak. "Yes~ that was so... wonderful."

"I know it was, we practically had a standing ovation with all the clapping our bodies were making." He joked, removing himself slowly from you. "Now let me help you get cleaned up after that outstanding performance."

"I'd like that. We can go up the stairs in the backroom, I live above the shop." You stood up carefully but when you wobbled a bit Buggy instantly picked you up and carried you up to your bathroom, with the help of your directions. The pair of you bathed, him of course helping you clean and dry yourself off before you both moved to lie on your bed.

"Buggy, will you stay the night with me please?" You rested your head on his chest, curling up into his side.

"Of course. I couldn't even dream of leaving your side right now." He placed a few kisses to the top of your head while one of his hands now comfortingly rubbed your back.

Blissfully you both laid there silent, basking in the soft glow of the moon rising through the night sky and shining through your window. You could both hear the faint noise of people partying in town square, laughing and shouting in drunken glee, it serving as a form of white noise to your thought filled minds.

"Hey Buggy, can I make a proposition, well I guess it's more of a request?" You shifted so you could look into his eyes, that were now seemingly glowing in the low light.

"Sure my starlight. What is it?" A thumb ran over your cheek tenderly.

"Would you be willing to be mine?" You studied his face for a second as he thought. "I know I'm being a bit foolish here but you've filled that lonely void in me more than anyone else ever had. I honestly think I've fallen for you somewhat today and I don't want to lose you. I don't care if we can't see each other for months on end, just please let me selfishly love you for at least a little while and maybe you can even love me too."

Something twinkled in his eyes as you spoke, knowing he felt the same. You'd both lived your lives searching for someone to love, or someone who could love you back and now the two of you were here entwined in bed together. You'd both filled that empty void in each other, chased off the loneliness together and somehow grown attached to the other in less than a day. Even if this was only a fluke, a mistake on your part, Buggy wasn't going to question it in the slightest. You were practically begging for him of all people to love you, of course he wasn't going to deny your love. You were the first person to love him and want to be loved by him, he'd be an idiot if he pushed you away now.

"Of course! I'd give anything to be yours honestly!" He pulled you into a deep kiss, sealing your new relationship with tender passion. When he'd pulled away, the pair of you had eyes filled with joy.

"I do have one request of my own though, besides wanting you to be mine as well."

Curious and excited you nodded for him to continue.

"Can you finally tell me your name at least?"

[bamsara]

Halloween's Night (Solar Lunacy! DCA x Reader Drabble)

This was orignally a prompt drabble, but I got carried away so now it's a simple Halloween drabble of it's own without the prompt.

Set in future ARC 2 (lateish) of Solar Lunacy: The DCA's reputation has improved, Moon has been reinstated as the Daycare Attendant and is doing well so far combatting the virus. Fire has not happened yet.

With no prior plans made, you are working the evening to night shift at the Pizzaplex's Daycare on Halloween night, so you practice Trick or Treating Safty with Sun and the kids, and witness a sweeter, softer moment with Moon. Also, everyone is forced to wear costumes. Including you, to which you get teased for.

The reader has a 'themed' costume, but the actaul apperence of the costume is not described, and up to visual interprietation

WordCount: 4,000+ | AO3 Link (preffered for comments!)

Halloween was a favorite holiday, if you couldn't notice from the absolute takeover scary and pumpkin themed decor had over your neighbors lawns and in the front window of every store you pass by on the drive to work. One of the best holidays, something to look forward to all year, and stores know this, jacking up heavy prices of candy for trick or treaters for the special night.

Fazbear Entertaient is no different. The moment the calender struck October 1st, Halloween decor started appearing in every neon hall and nearly everything was spook themed. Even the band members received 'make-overs' or costume changes to help with the Halloween Spirit.

Chica was a vampire, her hunger for pizza now a thirst for blood! (Or so she likes to loudly proclaim) while Roxy was a werewolf hunter, which, you find terribly ironic but she looks great in the typical lumber-jack style with a trench coat, it almost reminds you of pirate themed aesthetic, but you don't bring that part up.

Freddy is a wizard. Really. He's a wizard, complete with wizard hat on top of his original top hat and sparkly cape behind him. He looks goofy, but that was the goal, and the kids really love when he waves his 'magical hands', pulls out candy from his cape (which thankfully hid his chest compartment) and handed them out.

Monty is a zombie, complete with fake painted 'stitches' across his body with new paint that makes some parts slightly discolored from the rest of him. You wouldn't think that he would have liked playing the part, but turns out the Gator actaully likes to jump out and scare people, hands out and threatening to eat little ones as they run, giggling.

All their costumes were cute!

You, on the other hand, were quite surprised when you clocked in for your shift, and a staffbot rolls up to you with a brown paper bag, shoving it into your hands before giving you a quick thumbs up and rolling away.

Inside, to your exact measurements, is a costume that looks like a space themed fairy-type of thing that looks more like it would be suited for a child who couldn't decide what to dress up as rather than for an employee with unreasonable mangment. It even came with shoes.

....actaully, you shouldn't be surprised. Ever since your 'promotions, you should have seen things like this coming. You were hoping you could get away with just the bear-ears.

You change in the employee break room before heading out, and the Daycare, as always, is very busy when you arrive.

You hear them before you see them, children laughing as the Daycare Attendant chases them throughout the jungle gym, dark shapes through the plastic parts until they come rolling out of the tube slides. Even the tykes were in costumes, most of them onsies their parents picked out. Adorable.

Sun's costume change was interesting: a long black cape over his usual clown attire, and two painted devil horns on the appropriate spots on his sunrays. The clown ruffles were missing, and his colorful pants were replaced by puffy black pants, a tight shirt that made his chasis look like a skeleton's ribcage and with long sleeves with bones on the fabric as well.

The ribbons on his wrist remain, and so do the shoes with the bells. There's a hood on the back too and something attatched to his hip, but the hood is down because it would never fit around his rays, and the object is obscured behind the cape.

No where near as colorful as the animatronic usually liked, but he didn't seemed bothered; the kids were having a hell of a time with his new 'scary' apperence.

You take your place at the security desk right as the first parent arrives to come check out their kid, and Sun bounds up right with the toddler in his arms before you even call for him. After formalities, the paperwork (not really nesssasary, since robots can handle all the stuff in their brains anyway, but it makes you feel useful) and waving the two off, he turns to greet you.

Actaully, he gives you a full look-over, hand on cheek and humming. The displeasure on your face is plain, so you know his voice is teasing when he speaks. "Well, don't you look like a doll-!-"

"Shut it." You huff, and amusement flashes across the animatronic's face, and you subconsioudly adjust the straps of the fairy wings you've been tasked to wear with a sour frown. "I didn't choose the costume."

"Really! Because I think it suits you very well-"

You wack him with the clipboard, and Sun fakes hurt. "Boo. What are you supposed to be?"

He grings. "I have no idea! A demon, I think." Sun hunches over, fingers curled to mimick claws and turns from you to yell out towards the gaggle of children who were peering over at you two curiously. "Maybe the kind that eats little boys and girls that don't brush their teeth!"

A small collective gasp, a few giggles, hiding their faces away back into their coloring books as Sun gives them a final lookover and return back to you. "Whatdya think? Scary enough for ya?"

"Terrifying." You smile. "What am I supposed to be doing today? Aside from checkouts." You look towards the children, not many left.Looks like most of them have already been picked up.....That's...earlier, than usual."

Sun claps his hands together. "It's Halloween! Families come to pick up little ones early to start trick or treating! The Daycare will be closing a few hours early tonight!"

Oh, good. Less human interaction for you then. You sit yourself at the Security desk, eyeing the suspisouly full bowl of Fazbear themed candy that's been placed there. "Nice. Are these free for the taking?"

"Not quite yet." A metal hand clasps onto your shoulder, fingers tapping on your clothes. "And you know what? I could really use a little fairy helper right now-"

"Sunny-"

"Trick or Treating saftey! Super important! Some of these kiddos are trick or treating for the first time ever tonight, lets do a test run!" He leans back away from you, giddy and chipper as usual. Pretty sunny guy for being a demon.

You raise a brow, hand inching towards the treat bowl. "So...you want me to play the person at the door?"

"Correct!" Without missing a beat or moving his gaze, he gently slaps your hand away, and you pout as he continues. "I'll help encourage them, you just pretend to be 'answering the door' and give one piece of candy when they're ready-don't give anything with peanuts to Lewis, you see that one? Little one, blue dinorsouar onsie, yes. Good, good-and you can have any remaining candy left over!"

That bit caught your attention. "Can I have some now?"

"It would make the kids sad to see you eating candy when they're only allowed one." Sun's lowers, smile softening. "So no. You cannot."

Your response is a wrinkled nose and a frown. He pats your head in a mock show of empathy and tuts at your impatience.

The kids are giddy when Sun gathers them and tells them the rules as you prepare yourself to be the 'door greeter' in this little scenerio. For this, you crouch underneath the security desk where you can't be seen, await for a child to knock on the 'door' (aka, the wood of the desk) before popping up and going about the scenerio. It's silly, and a few onlookers that are leaving peer through the glass at your shenanigans, but you're smiling anyway.

The first knock comes, two hits on the wood and you pop out from the behind the desk. "Hello! And what are you supposed to be!"

The child, a boy with glasses too big for his face and wearing a skeleton onsie, timidly holds out his hands, eyes big and expectant. He has a slight lisp when he talks, excited. "Trick or Treat!"

You shift your eyes to Sun, and siliently the animatronic returns your knowing gaze. Well, he didn't really answer your question, but it's the enthusiasim that counts. "Oh my, here you go."

You place a piece of candy in his palm, and the boy immediatly turns to run off.

"Now what do we say?" Sun calls out to the boy's retreating form, half sticking out of a sliding tube.

The other children watch intently as the boy freezes, scuttles back out of the tube and running up to you. "T-thank you."

"Veeeery good job!" Sun praises, and you smile at the child to emphsize his praise. "Now what do we do?"

The boy answers, his voice joined by the choir of other children answering with him all out of synch. "Go back to our parents."

"That's right! You're a very smart bunch of fellas, aren't you?" Sun, who stands across the length of the room that would consitute a mock distance of the sidewalk to a front door, nods in approval as the candy holding tyke runs up to him, pinching the little one's cheek and cooing. He played the 'parent' while you were the door greeter, and you watched as he clapped and praised the children for following such a good example before ducking back underneath the desk.

The animatronic gently presses another child in your direction, and the process repeats.

It's cute and silly. They're all very young, more than likely this will be their first Halloween going door to door, and nervous at first when they approuch you, knocking on the desk and looking askew when you come out from hiding. That is, until their good manners and saftey behavior is rewarded with a piece of chocolate or jolly rancher, and their face lights up.

You occasionally have to break character as parents arrive to check out their children, the group dwindling little as the candy in your bowl starts to deplete. Some of them are restraining a laugh or smile at your costume, and possibly Sun's, but appreciate the 'practice' before the actaul trick or treating.

The next child is the quiet one. A little pigtailed girl that never talks, in an alien themed costume with a Moon plushie that's clutched tightly to her chest.

This girl never liked Sun, scared of him, so he doesn't push her too much as he gestures for her to approuch you. "It's okay, it's just practice! You get a piece of candy for trying!"

She doesn't budge from her spot, notably a distance away from the animatronic. Sun's smile doesn't faulter, but you know it probably sucks for him when this happens. "The meeting spot can be where the coloring books are, you don't have to come near me, okay?" His voice is soft, lowered, unlike him like he was borrowing the tone from somewhere else. "Would you like to try?"

She hesitates, looking back and forth between you and the jester, before approuching in small, timid steps. You try to appear as nonthreatening as possible . You don't even hide this time, just smiling as she approuches the desk. "Hello, there."

You see her tense up, and know it's already a failed attempt before her eyes get wet. A knock on the desk isn't even attempted, and the girl takes off, Moon plushie and alien antienna and all, towards the coloring books.

You have half a mind to go after to, comfort her somehow, but Sun is by your side quickly, calling out to the toddler instead. "That's alrighty, starlight! You tried and you were very brave, good job!" His praise feels esasperated, and the animatronic turns to you, head lowered to whisper so the other children. "That one's a touch sensitive. Best not to push it."

He's right, but you still feel a bit guilty. No time to feel it for long, because a gaggle of parents appear at the doorway and your attention is torn away to check out the remaining children to their appopriate gaurdians.

Sun amuses the remainder of the children with cartwheels and handstands that make his cape fly wildly until the children, one by one, are checked out and the Daycare is growing empty.

The hours are shorter because of the holiday, so the automated lighting system is supposed to go off earlier than usual. Parents and families are clearing out from the Pizzaplex, save for a few lingering souls, one of which still sits by the coloring area, scribbling on a page underneath one of the toddler tables in quiet contentment.

You frown, and pull out your phone. "The Daycare closes in five minutes."

"Her father must have forgotten the holiday hour change." Sun interjects, quickly gathering up all the little plastic candy wrappers the children threw onto the floor and tossing them into the garbage bin, muttering about keeping the place clean. "Good fello! Busy quite a lot, I think. He'll show up, no worries."

"The lights will go out." You say, and this time, there's no worry in your voice.

Sun salutes you, saying nothing. But he does tug at your wings as he passes by, and you try to step on his cape to make him trip and fail, causing him to snicker as you stumble.

As time would have it, the lights go out at the exact time Naptime is scheduled, but the Daycare is no longer taking check-ins for the holiday and is officially closed. Funny how the shortened hours would eradicate the Naptime schedule from the end of the work day, but there was no time for sleep on Halloween's Eve.

You don't flinch anymore when the lights go out, but you still look up from your phone and desk towards the girl that has yet to be picked up. She's not coloring anymore, instead curled up against a giant plushie and picking at the threads from her own plush.

Poor thing. You consider getting up and going to try and talk to her-

-but a blur in the corner of your vision comes around to your front, something silver colored and shiny pressing up against your neck. You freeze, instictivly, at the sycth's blade up against your skin.

A low, familier voice whispers next to your ear. "Slow down. You'll get sick."

Immediatly your face deadpans, and your hands drop the series of candy that you oh-so-weren't-totally-stealing from the candy bowl. "I'm an adult, Moon. I can have as much candy as I want."

Moon says nothing, but you can practically hear the grin as the plastic, wobbly blade drags across your neck harmlessly as the animatronic makes a 'scccchhhh' sound to mimick slitting your throat.

"Dying. Dying super hard. Blood gushing everywhere right now.." You jest, and the 'weapon' disappears, allowing you to spin on your heel and take the animatronic in fully. "....The Grim Reaper?"

Moon stands there in costume, the same as what Sun wore, but the hood was up over his hat, and a toy scycnh that's more suited for a child in his grip. That must be what was attatched to their hip you didn't see earlier.

He looks...unbothered, and his behavior was playful. But then again, you've known the Daycare Attendant long enough that it was easy to hide a face when your face's default setting is 'smile.' "Managment really didn't think the whole costume thing through, huh?"

His eyes are white, the one on the darker half of his face darkening to a red hue, only briefly. He holds the scyth up, pulling down one end and releasing it so it wobbled like rubber. "Try not to look too much into it."

"As long as you're having fun." You offer a smile in comfort, and Moon's response is 'stabbing' you through the gut with the fake sycnh, to which you snatch from him and bonk him with it as he snickers. "You dolt! There's a kid still here!"

"I know." Moon is unaffected by the plastic bonking, unmoving and plain faced as it hits him right between the eyes.

"Well?" You pull your 'weapon' back and glare at him.

Moon has no pupils at the moment, but you feel his gaze drift up and down your body before meeting your own again.

"Moon." You stress.

"Nice costume." He chuckles, fingers coming up to pinch at your wings. The straps press against your skin as he pulls them, humming like one was inspecting a caught butterfly. "Can't have you flying away though-"

You bonk him again. "Stop that."

"Hurtful" He's snickering. He's mocking you, damn him. "I let you get away with too much."

"Okay, now you're just being mean-"

He catches your next hit, your hand in his palm, curled fingers enclosing your own. A frown on your face, you open your mouth to question it before you pause. He's not looking at you, rather, peering off towards the other end of the Daycare, and you follow his vision.

Right as you look over, you spy pigtails dart back behind one of the cylinder towels. Moon drops your hand, and you keep your voice low when you talk to him so she can't hear. "You're supposed to be her favorite. I don't know why she hasn't come over to say hi to you, yet."

Moon hums. "Because the adults are flirting."

You whip your head back around to him, face hot. "We are not 'flirting'!"

Casually, he adjusts the wings back into proper position. "Sure."

"We're not!"

"Okay." He taps the corner of his faceplate, near his smile that's been teasing the entire time.

You pause, hand coming up to wipe your mouth. He leaves you there while you scrub at the space around your lips furiosuly until you're convinced he only tricked you into thinking you have chocolate around your mouth just so he'd get the last laugh, but he's approuching the girl before you can retort.

You huff at him, but settle back into your spot against the security desk, where the light switch remains nearby and you have a full view of the scenerio. You won't need to use it. You only remember it's there for your own memory.

Pulling out your phone, you check the time again and a few messages and emails wishing you a safe and happy halloween from a few stores that want to capatilize on the holiday. More than likley, the father of the child will arrive at his usual time to pick up the girl, which is typically an hour before closing, but due to the shortened hours of the holiday, would be another thirty minutes from now.

So you eat candy and pass the time. You don't mind it, helps you organize your notes. Occasioanlly you'll look up from the desk out of habit and see the animatronic sitting criss cross on the floor, hands in his lap with the little girl who's too afraid to interact with anyone else.

It's funny, you think, as you pop a smartie in your mouth, that the little girl afraid of everything else's favorite is a robot with a old reputation for blantant murder.

She's showing him a drawing you can't see from this distance, and Moon takes it in his hands and says something softley that you can't hear. You smile, and return to your phone and candy. He's come a long way.

It's a few minutes later as you close out of all of your tabs do you feel a presence around you. You look up, Moon standing a few feet away, cloak fully closed and hood pulled over so only the bottom half of his face is visible, with the glow of two white eyes staring at you from the dark.

The moment you notice him, he shuffles forward, except it's weird. Like penguin walking, in fashion that reminds you that underneath the 'grim reaper' costume, he's still a freaking clown.

You raise a brow. "Wha-"

He cuts you off. "Trick or Treat." You furrow your brows, squinting in confusion, and so he repeats himself again. "Trick. Or. Treat."

You're about to jest that robots don't eat candy so you'll have to take trick instead, but a small shape catches your sight. Hands, small and shaky, push out from the bottom of the cloak. The body attactched to them are still hidden by the fabric, but they are cupped and outstretched towards you.

You understand instantly. There's not a lot of candy left in the bowl since you've been eating them all, but there's three or four pieces left, which you scoop up and gently plop into the child's palms. "Bravery gets a reward, doesn't it?"

The child only makes a positive sniffle, but the hands pull back into the cloak and you immediatly hear the sound of a wrapper being torn open.

"Thank you." Moon grins.

Then, much to your amusement, you watch as the animatronic quite literally turns on his heel, and waddles all the way back to the designated 'safe zone'. It is, by all accounts, the funniest thing you've seen all night and takes a considerable amount of effort not to laugh at the retreating figure penguining away.

The father arrives a few minutes after that, and the girl is very easily presuaded from that point to come out from her hiding. Your suspisions were correct; the father simply didn't realize the Daycare's hours were working on a holiday schedule, and apologized greatly for the trouble. You're the one to reassure him that it's fine, you're going in the daycare all night anyways, and that his daughter caused no trouble.

Moon does not stand with you at the door. He still has....trouble with older adults sometimes. So he stands as a cloaked silohellte at the far top end of the jungle gym, cloaked in shadow save for his eyes, and his hand when he pulls it out to wave back as the girl waves at him once, and they're gone.

There. The Daycare is offically closed and empty. The Pizzaplex in full will be following suit soon, and you can relax.

The sound of bells jingle behind you as your lock the exit. "You're going to stay."

It's less of a question, more like a statement, but you give him a response as you turn anyways. "Yeah. I didn't have any Halloween plans, so I agreed to a full evening and night shift. I get bonus pay for it being a holiday."

"We could do scary things." He starts, mischief in his grin. He walks around you in a circle, oddly and dramatic in the fashion that a jester knows best, whipping the other side of your head as you turn to and fro. "I can show you scary things. Tell stories."

"I can show you scary things and stories." You refute. Pulling out your phone, Youtube and a few streaming services are pinned to your homescreen. "Never had a horror movie marathon, have you, Starboy?"

Moon pauses, and thinks for a long time.

You narrow your eyes at the silence. "If you joke that your life is a horror movie, I'll be disappointed."

"Not anymore." The animatronic spins his head, once, twice, as the wire comes down to attatch. It hooks onto his back, which is hilarious to see because you realize the cloak must have a small hole cut out the back for that to even work.

"Our room. Comfortable there." His hand extends towards you. "Feel like flying, fairy?"

Your nose wrinkles, taking his hand and scoffing at his amusement. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking the costume off as soon as we're up there."

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 42

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: I'm aiming to have 3-4 more chapters before wrapping this up. Just a heads up.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: M

There's police tape criss-crossing the front entrance, and across a few of the windows

The kitchen door is untouched

The camera outside of it appears to be disabled

You scour around, spotting a large rock

It's cool and heavy as you pick it up, and you find yourself wincing before you even throw the damn thing.

The shattering seems ear-splitting in the relative silence around the mansion.

"Sorry, Alfred," You mutter as you slide your sleeve down over your hand, reaching through the broken pane to unlock the door.

The quiet is eerie as you walk around. The mansion has always been enormous, but walking through it alone and hearing the echo of your footsteps makes your stomach churn with discomfort.

Are the cops monitoring this place? They must be, right? Is there anyone stationed nearby, watching the house?

You do not have time to be booked for breaking and entering

And how would that even play in the press?

Deranged Bateman Enterprises Employee Returns to Gotham and Breaks Into Missing Boss' House

Vicki Vale would probably love that.

At least you have an alibi for whatever the hell happened.

And what the hell did happen?

You duck beneath the police tape cordoning off his lab, looking around.

There's police tape across the window there, too. If police had seen Bateman—well, Batman—leaving through there...

You turn to the bookshelves as you consider the possibilities.

Maybe Nathan had to have been coming or going, saw the police and ran.

But to not come back?

Something must have been deeply wrong.

You walk over to the bookshelf, gently levering down Nathan's false copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep and waiting as the bookshelf sinks to the side.

You walk cautiously toward it, eyeing the elevator. The structure seems secure; nothing appears to be out of place.

You step onto it and pull the lever to lower yourself into the cave.

You turn to look down, listening as the clanking of the machinery awakens some of its bat inhabitants.

Everything in the cave seems as untouched as the mansion. You press your hand to the biometric scanner, looking up as the screens come to life.

Camera first, you think.

Maybe some of the questions that you have can be solved by whatever footage you can get from the mansion.

But when you try to view the logs from the past few days, access is denied.

There's a password protection of Nathan's that you can't override.

You try everything that you can possibly think of, but nothing pops.

You're in the middle of attempting to override his security when a livestream of the news catches your eye.

Your brow furrows as you eye the runner:

CLOWN GANG UNLEASHES CHAOS IN GOTHAM—MAYOR GARCIA INSTITUTES CURFEW

You reach down, turning up the volume on that feed.

The anchor's voice crackles slightly before steadying:

"For our top story: Gotham has been gripped by fear as a gang of masked perpetrators wreak havoc on the city. Authorities have struggled to contain the situation, with the Gotham PD launching a city-wide manhunt. Graffiti of clown figures and Joker cards have appeared on buildings across the city, with the rate of their creation outpacing the city's ability to cover or remove them. Mayor Garcia has mandated a city-wide curfew in attempt to stem the rising tide of clown-related crimes. Meanwhile, rumors continue to circulate about the disappearance of both Nathan Bateman and Batman. Some are questioning whether the billionaire has chosen to resume the hermitage that he held after college, or if he's being held for ransom by the masked vigilante. Others speculate that Batman is somehow behind the growing clown posse."

The footage flickered to an older woman on the street, her brows knitted as a microphone is thrust into her face.

"I've never seen this many clowns in my life. Not once. Not even when the circus came to town. Not even when I met my ex-husband's family."

You frown as the footage flickered to a familiar face—one that turns your stomach.

Vicki looks a little flighty, and hardly stands still to answer the question that the reporter poses. Her face is pinched; there are dark bags under her eyes as she gives a staccato reply:

"No one has ever seen Nathan Bateman and Batman in the same room, have they? No one. His last name is one letter away—has anyone ever considered that?"

You scoff, shaking your head.

She's right, of course, but that doesn't exactly settle your nerves.

The news turns to another interview—a young man with closely cropped hair, his features obscured behind a thick smear of white makeup and overdrawn red lips.

"Why's everyone getting so worked up over a little makeup?" His face splits into a grin as he grasps the microphone and runs away with it, cackling gleefully into it.

You wince at the sound of the laugh, a chill running down your spine as it pricks memories of your nightmares.

The footage cuts back to the anchor in the studio shuffling their papers before they fold their hands over their notes.

"Commissioner Gordon has urged citizens to remain vigilant and report and sightings of suspicious acrobatics, or people wearing an excessive amount of makeup or face paint."

You reach out, turning the volume back down as you lean back, eyeing the other news feeds.

"Jesus, Nathan," You sigh. "What the hell happened?"

--

You can't stop staring at the trash can.

Why the hell did Nathan keep them?

No—No, it can't be the same trash that it was when you left. You haven't been in the Blue Room in almost two years.

You came up in the vain hope that you may have a thing or two left in here, but...It's the same.

Everything is the same.

The designer clothing and bags that Nathan got you are still in the drawers and closet.

Your favorite products are still in the ensuite bathroom.

And as you crouch down and pick up one of the crumpled pieces of paper, your blood running cold as you spot your handwriting.

You drop it again and straighten up, bracing your hands on the desk as your chest tightens.

Why did he leave it like this? Did he close the door and forget about it?

Did he think you were coming back—

You turn away, pushing a low groan out as you shake your tingling hands out, trying to push back your conflicting confusion and hope.

Fuck, whatever it was won't matter until you figure out what the fuck happened—

Bzzzzzz

You freeze at the sound of the brief buzz. It stops as suddenly as it starts...

You wonder if maybe you imagined it—

Bzzzzz

You look around the room, frowning. What the hell is that?

It's close enough that you can hear it, but it's not in the room anywhere.

Bzzzzz

You step into the hall, following the sound toward Nathan's room.

You find yourself raising your hand to knock, then shake your head. No one is in there, right?

You're still hesitant to open the door, wincing at its creaking before you step inside. The buzz grows louder as you approach his bedside table.

You open the drawer and find it...Empty.

But you can still hear and now feel the vibration. You knock on the bottom of the drawer, thrilling as you hear the hollow thonk.

It takes a few tries, but you find the small tab to lift the false bottom and find...

A flip phone.

A flip phone? Why the hell would Nathan have a flip phone?

This seems like the kind of thing that he would've mocked you for having when you first met.

You pull the phone out of the drawer, eyeing the caller ID.

C.G.

You hesitate before you flip it open, raising it to your ear.

You don't speak, you just listen.

For a moment, you hear nothing. And then—

"Where the hell have you been, man?"

The man's voice is familiar. It's on the tip of your tongue...

"Still not talking?" He pushes. "You're lucky I'm not tracing this call after all the shit you pulled. Look—the mayor is on my ass. I need you to meet me tonight, usual time, usual place."

You flounder wordlessly before you push out the lowest, gruffest answer you can: "Can't."

You wince. Damn—You couldn't sound like Nathan if you tried.

The man's so flustered that he doesn't seem to notice.

"The hell do you mean, can't? You can't go AWOL like this. I need you to rattle some cages. I've got a lead on this clown gang, but I can't go after it myself."

You scrub your hand over your face. You can't go after them the way Nathan could, but you could do some research, right?

"Send the information," You grit out.

"It's too sensitive to send."

Fuckssake.

"...I'll send an address and time," You manage before snapping the phone shut.

You stare at the phone for a few moments, braced as if it'll explode.

When the man doesn't call back, you push out a soft, relieved breath.

Alright, you need somewhere you can meet whoever this is—somewhere you know the terrain, have the upper hand.

You may have once promised Nathan that you'd never go back to the Narrows without him, but he isn't there.

You are. You need answers.

Whatever this person has might lead you to Nathan.

But how the hell are you going to turn up without revealing who you are to...Whoever this is?

--

Nathan's armor is too heavy for you.

You're not in bad shape, but Nathan is strong in a way that you aren't.

You can pair down...Can't you?

You don't need all of the armor. If you play this right, whatever this meeting is won't end in conflict.

But you have a bigger problem than the armor.

You can't growl all night. That little bit in the bedroom hurt, and you'll never get away sounding the way you did in person.

You look around the lab, trying to cobble your thoughts together.

The helmet. You'll start with the helmet.

You'll need to adjust the design to include a voice modulator.

Okay. You can do this.

You've sent the C.G. contact an address and a time. You'll meet with him at five to midnight. You have eight hours.

You need to make the voice modulator first.

Once that's done, you'll go through the cave and see if any of the lighter kevlar that you designed and ordered is still there.

You're not as worried about covering your legs, but your arms, chest, neck, and voice are what you're worried about tonight.

With any luck, this is the only iteration of this suit that you'll need, and the only time that you'll need to wear it.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburg ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me. 

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock. 

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this. 

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day. 

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone. 

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone. 

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay. 

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into. 

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé. 

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase. 

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college. 

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car. 

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello. 

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong. 

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon. 

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship. 

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection. 

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift. 

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon. 

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table. 

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior. 

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning. 

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life. 

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever. 

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options. 

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said. 

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together. 

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.  

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant. 

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown. 

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours. 

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can. 

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case. 

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over. 

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.  

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of. 

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him. 

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach. 

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain. 

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion. 

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since. 

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him. 

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.” 

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer. 

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh. 

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly. 

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him. 

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious. 

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!” 

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions. 

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.” 

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls. 

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!” 

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit. 

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.” 

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room,  it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!” 

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

 “No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent. 

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm. 

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one. 

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men? 

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying. 

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.” 

Seokjin winced. 

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added. 

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous. 

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.” 

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased. 

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want. 

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up. 

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize. 

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know. 

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?” 

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.” 

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face. 

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him. 

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?” 

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.” 

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress. 

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking. 

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.” 

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up. 

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?” 

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot. 

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in. 

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty. 

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel. 

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. 

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making. 

Jin, the moon. 

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.  

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job. 

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread. 

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over. 

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers. 

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right. 

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own. 

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears. 

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world. 

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway. 

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends. 

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life. 

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor. 

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that. 

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.  

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties. 

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading. 

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him. 

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste? 

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while. 

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms. 

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach. 

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow. 

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man. 

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating. 

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said. 

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived. 

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn���t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else. 

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free. 

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her? 

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future. 

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown. 

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found. 

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to. 

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back. 

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall. 

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.” 

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner. 

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August. 

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off. 

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality. 

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people? 

You don’t. That’s the problem. 

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends. 

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to. 

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous. 

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play. 

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence. 

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary. 

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t— 

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel. 

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.  

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk. 

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. . 

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments. 

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them. 

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you. 

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real. 

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.  

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill. 

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod. 

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin. 

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in. 

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into. 

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin. 

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty. 

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in. 

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce. 

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours. 

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red. 

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude. 

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing. 

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down. 

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry. 

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity. 

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off. 

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait. 

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots. 

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee. 

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe. 

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill. 

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor. 

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to. 

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon. 

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice. 

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties. 

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse. 

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon. 

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast. 

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore. 

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags. 

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll. 

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace. 

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks. 

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining. 

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward. 

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin. 

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating. 

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn. 

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him. 

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes. 

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection. 

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.  

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time. 

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim. 

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional. 

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response. 

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says. 

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak. 

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” 

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it. 

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in. 

“Yeah,” you reply lamely. 

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression. 

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek. 

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.  

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness. 

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock. 

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you. 

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name. 

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?  

“Turn around,” he says. 

Wait, what? 

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind? 

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused. 

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for? 

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet. 

Fuck.  

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath. 

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago? 

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck. 

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet. 

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead. 

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off. 

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board. 

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.” 

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it. 

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly. 

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her. 

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue. 

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.” 

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily. 

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes. 

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him. 

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control. 

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter. 

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him. 

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor. 

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster. 

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large. 

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend. 

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down. 

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal. 

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you.. 

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked. 

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself. 

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard. 

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height. 

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside. 

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over. 

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince. 

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.” 

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing. 

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.” 

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold. 

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.” 

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other. 

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns. 

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.” 

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head. 

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother. 

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything. 

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair. 

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.” 

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self. 

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk. 

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it. 

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth. 

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it. 

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere. 

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple. 

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs. 

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face. 

“I–I’m sorry!” 

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen. 

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot. 

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into? 

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door. 

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down. 

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates. 

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess. 

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess. 

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters. 

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same. 

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin. 

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip. 

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count. 

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen. 

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze. 

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours. 

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.” 

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.” 

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it. 

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own. 

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful. 

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something. 

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well. 

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give. 

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead. 

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard. 

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day. 

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous. 

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips. 

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around. 

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock. 

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard. 

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen. 

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy. 

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all. 

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension. 

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this. 

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas  up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.  

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal. 

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible. 

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with. 

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it. 

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit. 

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop. 

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier. 

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now. 

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today. 

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum. 

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation. 

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop. 

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind. 

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point. 

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising. 

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money. 

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive. 

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved. 

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring. 

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate. 

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well. 

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category. 

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”. 

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil. 

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans. 

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch. 

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you. 

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.” 

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts. 

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.” 

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity. 

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more. 

“Please,” you moan at your screen. 

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself? 

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate. 

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything. 

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again. 

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.” 

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied. 

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock. 

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.” 

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash. 

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum. 

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear. 

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock! 

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course. 

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record. 

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar?  “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.” 

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe. 

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock. 

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit. 

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip. 

“Is this what you’re begging for?” 

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes. 

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip. 

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow. 

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.” 

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like. 

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me.  Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out. 

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing. 

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out. 

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory? 

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far. 

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release. 

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan. 

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”. 

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.” 

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling. 

You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant. 

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago. 

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[s4lv4tions]

in the still of the night, i held you; nsfw

pairing; nanami kento x fem!reader summary; "so before the light, hold me again with all of your might, in the still of the night." - the five satins wc; 2.6k cw; smut (non-penetrative sex), cisfem!reader, mentions of misogyny, alcohol use an; HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! have some sweet husband material kento to take with you into 2024 :')

In your genkan, Kento kneels to undo the buckle of your heels. They’d been a gift from him not even a year ago — high-end and real leather and more comfortable than most heels, but still a pain in the ass when you've been wearing them for 8 hours. His hands are warm and soothing where they rub gently over your bare heels, setting each foot gently upon the ground afterwards. You’re stuffed from dinner and blinking sleepily, all pliable and softened by an evening of tireless socialisation and too much sake.

“That Yamada fellow,” Kento says. He stands again, brushing imaginary dirt from his suit. “I don’t like him.”

He takes the jacket from your hands, your handbag, too; hangs them up on the coat rack and then deals with his own coat, and you watch him all the while. Perhaps you had a little too much beer, because even as he speaks, you can only stare at him — the thickness of his forearms as he wrangles off his coat, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up to reveal veins and corded muscle; his handsome side-profile, his strong nose and furrowed brow and angular cheekbones… If you were more artistically inclined you have no doubt he’d be your muse. It seems especially criminal to think that Kento has never considered himself particularly attractive. Your head thuds back against the front door.

Blinking away your sudden haze — alcohol or fatigue, you don’t know —, you peer over at him, curious. “Oh?”

There's an answering hum. Neither of you move — still standing in the genkan, you in your summer dress and woollen jumper, makeup done to the nines, slumped against the door. Him in his khaki slacks and button up, handsome as ever, leaning against the wall. You're in a bubble, here — halfway between the izakaya you'd spent the evening at and your bed. It's timeless, quiet. The only thing to be heard is the distant sound of traffic through your living room windows, just around the corner.

You tilt your head in thought. “I mean, he’s a clown, but he’s harmless. Just stupid."

"I don't like the way he spoke to your friend," Kento says, nose wrinkling. Ah, yes — you knew it had bothered him. Yamada is what one would call dead from the neck up — an idiot. How he's stayed employed so long is a mystery to you, especially with the amount of complaints he's garnered from female employees. He's not a creep (mostly), just ignorant and annoying. Thinks women should quit their jobs when they get pregnant, thinks maternity leave is a scam, thinks women are too emotional for leadership positions. Tonight he'd made the mistake of ordering your friend to serve him a drink in front of Kento — not the worst thing he's ever said or done, but it irked Kento nonetheless. You'd seen your boyfriend's eyes narrow and quickly shooed Yamada away to another table with the allure of more alcohol, and hoped that was the end of it. Clearly not. "Does he speak to you like that?"

"Mm. Sometimes. I guess he didn't tonight because you were there. You're pretty scary, Ken."

He only watches you, frowning. Doesn't take the bait. "Nothing's been done about him?"

"Mm-mm. We used to report him a bunch, but it's more trouble than it's worth." Another beat of silence, and you shoot him a smile. "Don't worry about it, Ken-chan. It doesn't bother us anymore. It's like working with an overgrown child."

"A man like that shouldn't have a job in the first place."

Finally, you push yourself off of the door — stroll slowly to where he stands, arms raised to loop around his neck. His frustration is silent — it most often is — but he accepts your embrace easily. His hands plant themselves over your lower back, warm and calloused, and a deep sigh filters through his chest. His nose nudges against the crook of your neck. "Sorry. None of that is your fault."

"Mm. It's okay." Exhaling, you let your eyes flutter shut. The entirety of your weight rests on him at this point. The drunkenness is wearing off, leaving only a pervasive lethargy and meddling craving for something requiring far more energy than you have. "Hey, Ken. Wanna fuck?"

Kento's breath hitches in your ear, before he lets out a laugh. His hand brushes up your spine, and you don’t bother to suppress the shiver it sends through you. "You're so vulgar. And you're almost falling asleep, darling."

“Mm.” Nudging your nose against the side of his neck and revelling in the goosebumps that rise there, you press your chest harder against him. “I have enough in me for a quickie.”

"We're getting you to bed."

“Hm? No! The night’s not over yet, Ken…” And yet you barely fight as he urges you forward, still wound around each other like a ball of string. Through the darkened living room and past the shape of your kotatsu, down the hallway and past the pantry and bathroom until you reach the bedroom. The lights are flicked on, dimmed to something more palatable, and Kento nudges you towards the bed.

You collapse like a sack of potatoes. You realise quite suddenly that you’d expended most all of your energy for the day and were truly running on fumes — considering you can count the amount of coworkers you like on one hand, and alcohol cuts your temper short. Somehow you still have enough energy to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as Kento stands in the doorway of the en suite, rifling through the cabinet until he comes away with some cotton pads and a bottle of micellar water.

You know you’re watching him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. You know your eyes are wide and glassy when he kneels by the bed and begins to wipe your makeup off, unfathomingly gentle — because he meets your gaze just once and laughs softly, all too fond, before returning to task. Swiping softly over your lips and under your eyes, all traces of mascara and eyeliner and concealer and whatever-else gone within a few cotton pads. Then he traces over your face with another one just to be sure — or perhaps just to map out your features under his fingers, indulgent and sweet. When he’s finished, he doesn’t leave, though — just stays and watches you in silence.

“Kento,” you say quietly.

“Mm?”

“I want you.”

His thumb nudges away a strand of hair tickling your temple. “You have me, darling.”

“Hm.” That’s not what you meant, and he knows it, but you’re too tired to actually have him, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut, heavy and sticky, and he takes that as his cue to continue — pulling down your tights from your legs, unzipping the side of your dress. Lifting it over your head and replacing it with a large t-shirt that you vaguely register as his; and then leaving you to deal with himself, presumably. You hear the rustling of fabric and the thud of them hitting the floor, the metallic clink of his belt buckle.

Still — a budding sort of heat warms your stomach; hides itself beneath your ribs and wriggles about in your mind. It’s annoying, pressing, unfaltering — flickering thoughts about how firm his biceps are; how big and warm his hands feel when they spread your legs and press your knees against your chest; how his body covers yours entirely in the throes of it all, hot and heavy and sweating with the heat of it all; the skill of his tongue, fuck, long laves of it against your—

“Asleep already?”

“Mm-mm.” You crack an eye open; glance up at him in all his glory, plaid flannel pants hanging low around his hips, a white t-shirt covering his chest. “You’re so unfair.”

As you close your eyes again, you feel him climb onto the bed beside you — the mattress dipping under his knee, the blankets rustling, and then a large hand plants itself upon your stomach. “Why’s that?”

You don’t say anything, only arching (perhaps a bit wantonly) into his hand.

“Ah. I see.” The hand smooths up and down, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin, and a deep exhale filters out of his chest. You can almost hear the fond smile in his voice when he bows his head towards you and says: “Do you really need an orgasm to sleep?”

“Are you—” Yawn— “Are you teasing me right now?”

“No.” His fingers twitch subtly against you.

“Because that would be mean, Ken-chan.”

“I’m never mean to you. In fact—” His fingers begin a slow descent downwards, bunching your t-shirt just under the curve of tour ribcage. They leave goosebumps in their wake on their path below the elasticated hem of your panties— “I’m far too lenient where you’re concerned.”

His fingers are almost icy cold in comparison to the sweltering heat between your thighs. At that first brush against you, you give out an embarrassingly high-pitched sigh, but you have no energy to feel any shame. It's not your usual reaction to such simple touch — not the wet mess between your legs, nor the noises that are being wrung from you — but between the alcohol and syrup-like lethargy… Needless to say, Kento’s fingers are thoroughly soaked within a few moments of practiced petting, gliding between your puffy lips to where you’re willing and weeping.

His fingers — those damned fingers, careful and practiced and just slightly calloused — dip momentarily into you, and you hear his breath hitch in time with yours. Your limbs are tense, now, no longer splayed every-which-way with little care; they’re coiled tightly, excitable pressure locked away in every joint, twitching with each mote of pleasure he gives you.

And oh, does he give. Your stomach goes rigid with it. He’s only tracing his fingers around your opening — watching you with eagle eyes when your stomach jumps every time he passes over a particularly sensitive patch of skin. It’s not enough to start those sparks of pleasure aflame in the pit of your chest, those involuntary contractions that make your mouth salivate — but it’s well more than enough to begin to kindle them. More than enough to get your back arching at the momentary entrance of a single finger.

“Hm.” Your sigh edges on a whimper, tapering out as you attempt to regain control of yourself. “That’s — that’s not gonna do very much, Ken.”

He doesn’t answer, at least not verbally. The finger pops back out — slickened and shiny — but there’s little time for complaint. Almost instantly his fingers dart up to your clit, circling the hardened bead in a pace you can only describe as indulgent. Indulgent for you or for him, you can’t tell, but you make a sound like the air’s been punched out of you regardless.

It’s just the start of it — you know, those tingles that begin in your clit and warm in your stomach, sent as shivers up your spine and your ribs, pooling in your nipples and fizzing in your fingertips. Just the start, but enough to have you squirming, pressing up to the few fingers that pleasure you. At your side, Kento huffs a laugh. He presses himself closer to you — dips his head so that his nose nudges against your jaw, hot air warming up your neck.

“Is that enough?” His voice is, somehow, more husky than usual — but still unerringly adoring.

“Uhm—” Then, hips jumping out into his touch — unconsciously, might you add— “Just — faster, please.”

“Greedy.” He means to admonish you, but Kento is no less indulgent than he usually is; pressing down harder, petting at you with wet sounds that reverberate through the room — shlikshlikshlik— even adding another finger to the mix, like he simply can’t hold himself back any further. It’s liable to drive you insane, the sheer sensuality of it all — the shivery, excitable pleasure that zips up and down your legs, the stuttering breath in your chest. When you gasp out, hardly able to hold your sounds in your throat, his breath comes out laboured. “There you go, darling. Take what you need.”

You’re humping into his hand like an excitable virgin, panting low in your chest as his fingers and palm grind against the slippery flesh of you. It should be embarrassing, the raw abandon you move with, but there’s nothing but fondness in Kento’s face, and your need burns you up from the inside. You’d push him onto his back and have your way with him if you had the strength — for now, you can only continue to flex your aching thighs up, shivering as the tell-tale shocks of your impending orgasm begin to creep along your spine. It's never usually this quick.

“Fuck— F-Fuck, Kento — oh, I’m—” Your mouth falls open, knuckles aching where they grasp at the sheets — your body tensing all over, waiting for the dam to break, for your body to lose complete control of itself — “Hah, I’m gonna cum — oh, I’m cumming, what the fuck, I’m—”

In seconds, Kento’s mouth is on yours — sloppy and messy, the way he only gets in the throes of passion when he cares more about your pussy squeezing his fingers than any sense of propriety. You’re not even lucid enough to kiss him back — your entire body, entire mind, is trembling with your orgasm; pussy squeezing uncontrollably around him, clit throbbing against his palm. Your toes curl and your legs kick out, frantic to ground yourself in some way, but—

“Mmf— God—” What feels like minutes later, gasping, you pull away from Kento’s lips, shuddering heavily as air filters back into your spent, pleasure-ridden body. Your entire lower half feels numb, staticky and half-dead; your head swims with a dizzying mix of endorphins and fatigue — the sudden hours of socialising and drinking hit you like a brick. If you had been sleepy before, you were bone-dead now.

You’re still twitching with the aftershocks of it all when Kento places a chaste kiss upon your forehead, slipping his fingers out of you — and, not even realising that your eyes had closed, you crack open one to peer at him.

Kento smiles, and pets his clean hand over your hair. A single strand of blond sits awry, drifting low over his forehead; between his legs, a large tent presses up against his pyjama pants. Other than that, he’s perfect — you’d never guess he just finger-blasted you to mars and back. “How are we doing?”

Limp and syrupy-soft, you blink up at him. “Hi.”

He watches as your eyes drift shut again, head flopping sideways to rest against the pillows. His question of “Bed time?” is a rhetorical one; nevertheless, you give him a half-baked semblance of a nod.

“Mhm.”

“Alright. I’m going to clean up.”

“Mmf.”

Chuckling to himself, he begins to shift to get off the bed — but your hand grasps his wrist just before he can get out of reach. He glances down at you. “Yes?”

“I’m gunna… give you… such… good head… in the morning…” A large snore follows your statement, and your hand falls to your side — and just like that, after almost an hour of bribing and convincing and urging, you’re dead to the world. Snoring your little head away and curled up towards his side of the bed, like you're waiting for him.

Kento shakes his head to himself all the way to the bathroom — off the bed, across the carpet, into the ensuite. As he stands in the bathroom, washing his hands under that cold, fluorescent light, he notices his smile hadn’t dimmed, not even once.

Never a dull moment, he supposes. He can stand to live with that.

[eldritch-spouse]

lmao Vesper 😭😭😭

Ok wait for me I have new genius idea for crackass scapegoat!AU

Reader is the poor employee with a curse of being a magnet for Icons. They're trying their best, applying for the jobs in the most "human" spaces – but it's useless to try, it's only matter of time when they're meeting face to face with something very huge and demonic. They're not even trying, really. They're not even at some high position. They're just too unlucky to being the one who listens to all complaints and death threats... yet still very lucky to somehow remain alive after that.

After being kicked out from the theatre, their first honest job, they're totally broke. Underground casino? Yeah, yeah, shady. Sign them up!

Work is actually not so bad until some strange green giant scolds the shit out of them for "playing cheap" and almost brings them to that hot shithole– good thing he got distracted and the only thing poor employee lost are all their money and a job.

Damn, here we go again- Nothing could be wrong with working in a popular restaurant, yeah? Everyone gone through it-

Oh, how lucky they're to stay alive after that day when enormous snake woman decided to visit their modest establishment of a workplace. Their coworker, fellow waiter, is not so lucky tho. Poor Kenny.

With a generous amount of trauma, our scapegoat is escaping to something- something completely different, you know? They got a jackpot! Luck is TOTALLY on their side after all this suffering, how else you can explain that they got a job in that prestigious boutique?

... Well, let's say, they haven't break in tears only because of their lack of dignity at this point. That guy was marvelous, but he almost crashed them into the pulp with all his requirements- they're not even a designer, really....

Okay, maybe, they need to take a rest. Big rest. Take their stress out somewhere. Ikea, furniture store, bed section. Peace and love.

How it's even possible to be fired from a chill place like this? Oh, that's easy. Some buff dude built like a mountain just sorta appeared and fell asleep at the one of the biggest beds- and for some reason they fell asleep on their workplace while it happened. When they woke up tho, here was no one but a broken bed and complain in the customer's book.

That's it. That's a last nerve they had. They're escaping to the amusement park, to be the clown they are and being paid for it, as they deserve.

Only to be mocked by a guy with a fucking macaroni limbs. No, here was other people too, but he brought the greatest display of mockery and dishonour ever possible. Even their destroyed dignity somehow reanimated just to get beat down again.

...

Kalymir has zero idea why he woke up with a strong desire to go on the fucking "DOTA tournament" and tf it even means, but he already hyped up and ready to crush in-

After having to gamble at the same table as the Lord of Greed and nearly losing ownership of your soul.

After working at a restaurant good enough that the Queen of Gluttony unintentionally erotically fellated your entire body and made you feel like a twinkie.

After getting your department in IKEA utterly destroyed by the King of Sloth's insistence that he nap specifically in your section.

After having the King of Pride rip into you so viciously that you only wished you had been swallowed.

After having the King of Envy out-clown you.

And now, seeing what you can only guess is the King of Wrath well on his way to likely turn you into a stain on the wall...

You think of what could have been. Before this chain of horrid luck took over your life. In that one first job where you had to confront Vesper about his tendency for "group affections"-

Maybe you really should have just taken the deal and sucked him off.

[naerwenia]

Part of you (Forever) part 2 - William Afton x Fem Reader

I lost the plot.

Rather than go on with the plot I had in mind, here's just dirty William Afton going a bit further again. Part 1 here, but you can read this as it's own thing.

Explicit, MDNI!

Includes a cartoony concussion, age gap, non-consensual stuff but no intercourse, and bold William Afton who comes in your panties inside his pants :) Michael Afton is there and very suspicious of his father. Also videotaping reader without consent and a mention of pee.

Seeing you eating his cupcakes and obliviously enjoying them made him think it was not that bad to make you eat his seed. You enjoyed it, thanked him with a smile every time, so who was he to deny it? But it was not enough, it never was, from the start Afton knew it would not suffice to just see you eating him and he tried to come up with new ways to get closer to you.

It was near the end of October that William Afton asked you if you would be interested in helping out during the Spooky Circus Event the pizzeria was having as a Halloween event. You were surprised he wanted you to be there, as you never really had told him about your work before, just what you were studying and a bit about your interests, but the way he asked made it sound like there was no one else to take the role of a storyteller. It didn’t sound too hard, just having three small storytimes with different age groups, giving them a fright while telling some stories, and the pizzeria would pay you actual salary. 

“You know I’m going to spend it here, cupcakes and coffee for the next few months?” you joked, teased him for his offer, but accepted it with a smile.

“Now I can officially give you the employee discount” William said back, glad he had you so readily available and unquestioningly agreeing with him, ready to spend some more time together, getting closer and earning your trust. He knew you were a nice girl, smiling and being kind in general, but he had to do more than just exchange a couple words a few times a week to actually get close to you, and this event was more than an excuse; it was a test.

Of course, your classmate Michael Afton wasn’t too happy hearing his dad had hired you to help during the Halloween event. It was not like William to include humans when those roles could be filled with animatronics, and storytelling was more than possible with the robots the pizzeria had. Also, more importantly, William was cheap, he would have more likely forced Michael to dress up and take the part of a circus clown than hire an actual actor for the role. It made no sense to Michael, and it worried him, more than his father’s usual eccentricities, and while you and him were not that close, Michael knew you as a gentle and kind person, someone who would be a great friend if he just let you close. 

Rather than ask you or William directly, Michael kept his suspicions to himself, but got closer to you, talking about the event and acted happy to have someone so reliable working there, even if just for one event. With his dad Michael made sure to be involved with the restaurant for the next couple of weeks, but all he was made to do was marketing, flyers, social media posts, going around putting up posters, nothing special.

However, more than once he came across software he did not recognize and files he could not access while working on the company computer his dad used as his personal computer. Michael made a mistake asking him about the software, as William angrily shouted it was none of the boy’s business and refused to let him use the laptop, telling him it would be better if Michael used his own computer for the tasks given to him or better yet, leave. No matter how much the two argued, this was the one time Michael bit his tongue and only focused on the tasks at hand, disregarding his father’s weird behaviour. 

It was a week before the big event that you made it to the pizzeria to meet William to talk about the costume you should be wearing. You had few ideas, but Mr. Afton had insisted that he had it all covered. As you arrived, you first met Michael, staring at a computer, writing something.

“Hey, still here?” you asked, walking to him and leaning over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He let out a sigh as he moved a bit to the side to let you see the post he was writing. 

“Just trying to make sure people outside Hurricane know there’s a special event, maybe we get a kid or two more this year,” Michael said, too focused on the current task to properly greet you right away, but as soon as he was done and turning to smile and exchange a few words, William’s delighted voice came through, getting both of your attention. Your attention was now completely on William, smiling gently, with warmth Michael rarely saw anywhere in his home. It made him feel weird, how your kindness was repaid by his father, a smile he never gave to his son, and a guiding arm William put around you, pulling you further back of the place, past the flickering lights and dark corners. The touch, the conversation, the smile William had on for you, it all seemed so innocent, yet Michael had a bad feeling about it, and the way William pulled you closer was almost jealous, like he was pulling you away from his son.

In the closet you were presented with a dress made of frills and frills on top of bows and childish accessories, but it was cute, you could not deny it.

“I made Circus Baby but she never found a proper place in the band, nor was there interest in a whole circus themed restaurant. But maybe the dress fits you and you can take the character for the event, you know, if it fits,” William said, watching you eyeing the dress, touching the cheap fabric, clearly wondering if it would fit you. It would, William had made sure of it.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure it f-,” you asked, and tried to say something about the fit, but Wiliam cut you off.

“I’m sure it’s fine. If you could try it, I’ll wait outside,” he said with the voice of a kindly old man, maybe a grandpa guiding a child on the right path, as he stepped outside, the red light from the exit sign reflected off his glasses, shadows contorting his features into sinister mockeries of the facade he tried to put on.

William leaned on the wall, looking at the door on the closet, imagining how you would look undressing, listening to every small rustle and click that came through the door. He could almost see in his mind’s eye how you took the dress in your hands, looking over the details in it, and carefully laying it over a chair, then, after a small moment of hesitation, you would take off your own jacket and then dress, before quickly taking the fancy dress and pulling it over your head. Maybe it felt a bit itchy, maybe it was just perfect, maybe he had underestimated the size of your breast, but it might take a second or two for you to get it on, wiggling into it, but soon you would slowly open the door, and ask for William to help with the zipper on the back. A bit embarrassed most likely, but he was more than happy to help, even if he “had to” straighten the dress on you, innocently move the fabric on your chest so it would be on you the right way. But he knew he would not need to imagine for long, he would know soon.

You took your time, gently trying on the dress after being a bit intimidated to change in the closet, as there were changing rooms in the building too, but maybe William was just a bit forgetful or wanted you to have more privacy than you might have in the employee changing room. 

The dress was an interesting choice to say the least, almost like it was for a whole different style of an animatronic than the ones in the pizzeria, maybe more suitable attire for a fair worker. It was fun, colourful, and definitely eye-catching, maybe a bit too much when you noticed yourself in the mirror and saw how the fabric laid across your chest. You took a few steps back to see yourself fully in the mirror, smiling at the frills and layers of tulle that made the underskirt and let the bottom of the outfit bounce and sway like in a fairytale or a cartoon. To you, it all looked so not like you yet you felt cute, happy to see yourself as something more than a random girl just going through life.

“Are you ready?” William asked through the door.

“Yes,” you answered, still looking at the mirror, not even looking at the door yet, but as he opened the door, you turned around and BANG! The door smashed into your head and as you tried to keep your balance, a long ribbon came down, tangling under your shoe, sending you tumbling down and hitting your head on a shelf and then the floor. 

All William could hear was three loud bangs as you fell down in front of him, and suddenly any plans he had made fell with you to the floor. In seconds Michael ran to the door too and leaped to check on you, seeing if you were still breathing, and if you were bleeding. Rather than let his son take care of you right there, William got down on your level and started lifting you up.

“Go get water and call an ambulance, I’ll get her in the first aid room,” William grumbled to Michael, lifting you in his arms like it was nothing, surprising even Michael, but he complied, opening the doors in William’s way so he could get you to a bed and look after you.

As you were put on the bed, and William could hear the faint voice of Michael, his brain started working again as he was looking at your limp, slowly breathing body, chest rising lightly and coming down. The bare legs slightly open, but the layers of tulle were in front of the sweet view his eyes tried to find, but as he stared there, hoping to see under the skirt and taste you just a bit before fucking you, pushing himself inside you, feeling how he became part of you. All he wanted was to really let you feel how he would feel as a part of you, how good he would make you feel, not just words that might scare you away, but an experience you could not get with anyone else.

William had all of you on tape changing clothes inside the closet as a small security camera had been placed there, since it’s a warehouse and not something that could not be surveilled, just to get to know a bit more intimately, to know what to expect when he might finally have you naked in front of him. Without the tape he might just be too taken aback to know what to do, too amazed by your body, too far gone to take his time with you, so this was for the best. Unfortunately his eagerness had made you hurt yourself, but what a perfect hurt angel you were, sleeping peacefully while William watched you from the foot of your bed, a light shadow casting over you, swallowing you. 

As Michael’s voice grew almost silent, William felt emboldened to close the door, lock it, and get closer to you, dragging his fingers across your skin, from the ankle to up to the hem of the dress. Rather than stop there, he pushed his hand under, feeling up your legs, over the fabric covering you, under your hips and butt, and grabbing the underwear, as quickly as possible removing them from you. When he got them over your feet, he could see you coming back to consciousness, moving a bit, furrowing your brows and then sighing in pain. Pushing the panties inside his pocket would be a bit suspicious, the corner of the fabric might be pushed to view as he was moving around, so he pushed them inside his own underwear, under the pants, but as he adjusted the fabric under his touch, the levity of the situation fell on him like an unused animatronic; him, rubbing his dick with your underwear (even if not meaning to), while you were unconscious in front of him, trying to gather your senses.

Rather than stop what he was doing, he turned over, back to you, cock hard, he let his hand grab himself harder, wanking while you let out pained gasps, carelessly trying to cum as quickly as possible. It excited him, knowing how close you were to finding him masturbating, with his hand down his pants, your panties around his cock. 

“William..?” You asked in pain, confused, questioning in a high pitched voice, just like William wanted to hear you, and with one more motion, he came right there in front of you, but he was more than a skilled actor, he was a confidence artist, selling you his innocence while still leaking, soaking your panties with his seed.

In one swift motion, he turned around, unlocking the door behind himself before walking over to you, clearly worried. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, it was an accident!” William tried to explain, taking your hand in his. “You were out so long, Michael had to call an ambulance, they should be here soon. Dear, I am so sorry”.

All of his fussing over you made you feel uncomfortable, not wanting to be any trouble to the old man, who clearly looked dishevelled, almost pained, hands clammy, like he had been sweating. A sigh and half a word left your mouth before you felt like something was off, and looked up at William, a bit confused, and he turned his head a bit and coughed, a bit embarrassed for what he had to say next. 

“Umm, you had a small accident, so I had to clean you up a bit. I’m so sorry, dear, I just couldn’t leave you like that, and…” William got out of his mouth, and you were burning up from the first sentence, like all the blood in you just went to your cheeks, burning. How did this happen, how could you embarrass yourself in front of William Afton like this, fall, get knocked out, and piss yourself, all in one day? You brought your hands up to your face, dying right there, wanting to just turn invisible, but all the pain in your head and cheeks burning, you knew you were alive and sitting on a bed with an old man holding your hand. 

You both could hear the door slowly opening, a worried Michael Afton looking in, with a paramedic behind him. 

“Now, won’t you let them check you and we’ll get you home if it’s nothing serious, alright, dear?”

[quinloki]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 19

Time to clown around... >.>

Character: Buggy Reader: afab!Reader Warnings: accidental voyeurism, self-oral, inappropriate use of a devil fruit, vaginal fingering, light bdsm, cum play, vaginal sex

Summary: Buggy's stressed - fortunately, you've been wrangling the clown prince of chaos for long enough you can keep up with his mood swings. Not that you expected to help him de-stress quite like this. -:- 2546 words

SPOILER WARNING: Mentions/alludes to the Cross Guild, which is currently Manga-only knowledge I believe.

Buggy

You’d been “secretary” to the Cross Guild pretty much since it was officially founded, and an employee of Buggy’s for a while before that. Unlike most of the people who followed Buggy, you knew the man’s faults, and it was your job to keep most of them under control. This way his adoring masses continued to adore him, and his business partners continued to let him live.

Granted, adjusting to those two had been the real challenge for you. You were getting better and better at it as days passed, and you were pretty sure that they both put up with Buggy because of you. Which felt incredibly audacious – who the hell were you in the face of two former warlords and an Emperor?

But hey, maybe competence was sexy.

“Hey, Bugsy, I need this-.” You paused. You’d been walking through the keep at a decent clip, carrying paperwork for the big man himself. It was late, but not late late.

You hadn’t thought to knock.

You’d just opened the door and walked right in.

And why not? You’d walked through this door a thousand times, and not ever once to this sight.

Buggy was deep throating himself. Dick all detached and balls against his throat. He wasn’t even gagging the skilled bastard.

Suddenly all of the quips about how the only thing that worked on Buggy was his mouth that you’d heard from the other two was, uh, different. Very different. The rumors could be true, and if they were, then more power to your main boss, but you didn’t need to be in the middle of that.

Buggy slowly pulled his – holy shit he’s long – cock out of his mouth. Despite the makeup he normally wore, his face was impressively red.

“I’m just going to set these here.” You say finally, putting the small stack of papers on the desk. “They need to be signed, as soon as possible, don’t dick around- I mean.” You put your hand over your face. “Just don’t be too long – TAKE, don’t take too long. Sweet holy fuck me – I MEAN FUCK THIS.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Buggy.” You say from behind your hands.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” He replies after a second. His voice is very squeaky, and you know he’s at least as rattled as you are.

“Lock your door in the future.” You say as flatly as you can manage.

“Yes.”

“Good talk. Papers. Swiftly.” You say turning around. You barely get two steps toward his door and a gloved hand closes it. The shift in the air isn’t unexpected. Buggy’s moods swing faster than the weather in the New World, and sometimes they’re just as disconnected.

“Boss?” You prompt, eyes still on a door you dare not approach.

“I was stressed.” He says softly. There’s nothing shrill in his voice. It is, surprisingly, deep and steady. You’ve heard it like this before, but it was usually before he was doling out a punishment.

“Understandably.” You’re picking your words carefully. Nothing that sounds like nose, or red, or anything that could possibly be misunderstood for big. There were times you could safely say such things, but right now was not one of them.

“You seem stressed too.” You feel the hand on your shoulder and applaud yourself for not jumping out of your skin since Buggy was still on the bed.

“I’m all good, boss.” You respond. Something sends a shiver down your back, and you’re not sure what it is. Stressed or not, it’s not like you were unwilling to get tangled up in the sheets with the boss. Not exactly the person in the crew you had fantasized about, but Buggy had his own charm.

The way he acted sometimes it was easy to forget he was built solid. His devil fruit power required more core strength than most people realized, well, more muscle control in general, honestly. If haki was off the table you wouldn’t be surprised to see him win an arm wrestling competition with a giant.

And it was curiously long.

You turn toward him. He’s still sat up on the bed, arm over a knee, dick back where it belongs, hair cascading down his shoulders and back. He’s looking at you, and if you were anyone else, if you didn’t know so much about him, you’d be intimidated. There’s a light in his eyes that could put the other two to shame.

Maybe everything to now wasn’t sheer dumb luck. Maybe.

“I could help you de-stress.” You offer it almost like you’re going to bring a cup of tea or rub his shoulders. “If you think it would help… boss.”

Buggy’s hand slides down from your shoulder and he cups your jaw in it, turning your face from one side to the other as he keeps that steady gaze on you.

“And how do you plan to do that, (Y/N)?” He questions, his lips widening into a devious grin. You hear a heavy, slow scrape of metal and a definitive clunk as the door is locked.

“Flashily, boss, of course.” You say, a small smile on your own face. You take a couple steps toward him, but then his hand’s in the middle of your chest stopping you.

“Right there,” he says as his hand moves and begins to unbutton your blouse. You look down and start to move your arms and he tuts his tongue. “Hands behind your back.”

You cross your wrists behind your back as Buggy’s other hand comes over to help him. He makes quick work of your buttons, but he doesn’t rush. He’s not normally a patient man, but you can feel him slowing himself down. Like he was trying to savor the moment.

You had a hunch he was sweet on you for some time, but it seemed like a bad idea to get tangled up with your boss, and well, it was Buggy. Pirate and scourge one minute, and the next he’d have his feet on the table and his shoulders on the ceiling screeching about a bug in the cabin.

Ever since he escaped Impel Down though, things had been different.

He pulls your blouse down off your shoulders slowly, taking his time as the fabric held onto the curve of your breasts. You could feel the heat in your chest. It wasn’t like no one had ever seen you naked before now, but the way he was looking at you was a first for you.

Your chest rose higher as your breath caught in your throat, and Buggy seemed to take that as a sign, and pulled the blouse the rest of the way down. The cool air on your heated skin sent chills along your flesh, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. A soft gasp escaped you, and you stiffened a little as gloved hands moved over and down your arms, fingers slipping over your wrists as he checked to see your hands were still where he wanted them.

He moved your hands enough to pull the blouse completely off, letting it drop to the floor, and making sure they stayed in place again. He ran his hands against your waist, the rough fabric of the gloves making you squirm a little, before his hands came to the front of your stomach, sliding up slowly to your chest.

“Buh-Buggy,” you gasp, and his hands stop. “Please, you’re killing me.” You whine. “This pace.” Your breath falls from your mouth a little heavier as his hands begin moving again.

The rough fabric of his gloves rubs against your nipples, and your growing need compounded with the slow teasing is enough that your body jerks a little as you gasp. He grabs your nipples between his index finger and thumb and tugs a little, urging you to step toward him. You follow the unspoken command easily, stopping when he stops tugging.

You’re barely two feet or so away from him now. You almost can’t see anything else but those eyes boring into you. There’s a heat in his eyes you’ve definitely never seen before, and you can almost physically feel his gaze traveling over your body. Enough that it takes a second to realize that he’s pulling your pants loose.

The slow tug is driving you mad. You can feel the fabric of your pants slipping down your hips practically thread by thread. The look on his face isn’t one of impish deviousness, it’s one of focus. He’s not necessarily trying to tease you into the abyss, he’s taking his time.

Relaxing.

Insomuch as he could ever hope to know how. Why it was relaxing for him to unwrap you so slowly was beyond you, but it was working you up terribly.

Your pants were just barely covering your crotch, and you were almost panting. Another inch and there wasn’t going to be much left for him to see. You’d be completely exposed in front of him.

One hand holds onto the pants, his other presses against your lower abdomen. It’s almost too hot for something hidden behind a glove like it is. Your pants don’t move, but Buggy’s hand moves down, slipping slowly under the waist of your lowered pants. Your chest is rising and falling and your heart’s pounding in your chest, and you just want him to keep touching you.

His long middle finger pushes into your soaking folds. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t change his pace as his finger pushes in and curls, searching for a moment before it finds your clit. You suck in a breath and buck your hips, the pleasure sending jolts through you. It’s like all the tension snapped from the sensation, but it’s not enough to send you over any sort of edge.

It’s a relief in its own way, but it’s not enough.

His eyes are on your face, watching you as his finger teases your clit. His other hand lets your pants drop, pooling down around your ankles as it comes around behind you and holds your hands in place. You hadn’t moved them on your own, but you didn’t take the action as an insult. It only added to the pleasure, feeling his hand against yours like that.

Your stance stutters a little, and you set your feet a little wider as his finger teases your clit. Your breath was coming out hot and heavy, and it wasn’t just from his fingers. You’ve never been stared down the way he’s watching you right now, and the more it affects you the more he notices.

“Buggy… please…” You gasp, staying in place, but widening your stance more as your legs start to tremble.

“Stay standing.” He commands, turning more toward you. You feel his hand shift so his thumb is teasing your clit, detached from the rest of his hand as his fingers start to tease your entrance. “If you want relief, you’re going to have to keep your feet under you.” He clarifies, tongue running over his painted lips.

“Y-yes, boss.” Your whole body is hot and your fingers flex against the hand holding them in place behind your back. Buggy’s expression softens a little, his eyes focused on your cunt.

“You’re always a steady place for me, (Y/N), but I know you’re really soft, deep inside.” He nearly growls the words as two of his fingers plunge deep into your pussy. Your body shudders and you cry out, but you keep your feet under you and yourself upright.

“Haa, haaa… shit.” The air’s cooler against your skin as sweat begins to bead on your skin, causing the smaller hairs on your head to cling to your face and neck.

Buggy’s fingers work inside you like he’s played with you before, hitting every tingle and twitch expertly. In a few short minutes you’re close to cumming, and then he pushes a third finger in. The wet sloppy sounds are louder than your own strangled grunt and you’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto the floor, or your pants. You’re not sure where they are anymore, and you can’t tear your eyes away from Buggy’s to look.

Somehow you just know if you stop looking at him, he’s going to stop moving his fingers.

“Please, I’m gonna cum, boss, please, I… I don’t want to… c-cum on your fingers.” You beg him. You’re barely keeping your feet underneath yourself, and you’re so close, you just want more of him.

“Greedy little shit, aren’t you?” He grins. “I like that. Don’t move, and keep your hands behind your back. Next time I’ll have to get some rope.”

His hands leave yours, and his fingers pull out of you, his thumb staying put and lazily running circles over your clit. His hands begin to knead and tease your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples as you feel his cock push against your sopping, hot, twitching hole. You nearly whimper, a mix of relief and concern – you don’t know how you’re going to stay standing if he’s going to fuck you like this.

He pushes in, and in and in, and you nearly cum as he hits you deeper than anyone else ever has. You’ve never been so full, and you can hear Buggy sigh.

“Didn’t bottom out,” he murmurs, head back and looking up at the ceiling for a moment before he starts to move inside you. It’s slow at first, stretching, searching, and shifting until he finds whatever it was he was looking for. Once he’s satisfied he begins to thrust in earnest.

Fast and hard enough his balls are smacking against your ass despite your position. You’re shivering and whimpering, you can’t think enough to argue about your situation, but you’d kill for something to hold onto. The pressure and speed of his thumb against your clit picks up and your whole body tenses as you suck in a breath.

“Ah, please, please!” You cry, holding onto your arms to keep from reaching out to him. Panting, practically drooling, your eyes are watering from the exertion of supporting yourself as your body is being overwhelmed with pleasure. You’re almost afraid for a split second that you won’t actually cum.

Everything is deeper and faster for a moment and Buggy twists your nipples as you cum so hard you see stars. Your body goes rock hard for a second, taut from the orgasm and desperate to stay on your feet, every muscle tightens as pleasure jolts through you.

As you come down from the peak, you realize Buggy’s standing right in front of you.

“Nice and flashy.” He grins. “Close your eyes.” You do as instructed, and there’s a tug at your hair, pulling your face up toward the ceiling. A second later you feel hot cum splash onto your face as you hear Buggy grunt and sigh in his own release.

His hand smears it around your face and you let him. “You did good, lemme clean you up.” His voice is low, husky, and needy. You’re a little surprised to feel his tongue against your face, but you don’t move away.

All you can think is how good that tongue would feel between your legs.

And maybe how good that nose would be against your clit.

[leggerefiore]

cw: 18+ content, fem reader, office sex, silver fox Emmet, short

Minors DNI

surprise smut because silver fox Emmet saying good girl has been stuck in my head.

You would admit that you were as much of a pervert as he was.

You would admit you enjoyed the feeling of his gloved hands groping at your ass from under the mini pencil skirt he specifically requested.

His lips were locked with yours in a messy kiss as you sat on his lap. The older man's goatee tickled your chin. Your blouse had already been slightly unbuttoned from the top. You let out a soft, a moan into the kiss. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead against your own. Thumbs locked under the band of your underwear to pull them down and reveal you to his playful fingers and eyes.

You cried when his thumb first pressed between your folds to rub against your clit, the pleasure immediate and electric. Holding on to his shoulders, you felt your body rush with everything. “Ah, good girl,” he cooed while pressing a finger inside of you, “You make this old man verrrry happy.” Emmet was nothing but a dirty old man, you knew, but it was impossible to say you did not love him. His face showed his age, but his spirit and energy showed the younger man he once was. He refused to let himself change too much.

Another finger joined the first as he shifted into scissoring you open. His thumb was still rubbing wonderfully on your clit. You let a groan and moved your hips in time with the actions of his hand. Office sex was a common thing with him. It seemed he enjoyed the thrill of being caught, but there was no chance anyone would enter his office without prior permission. Then again, he had also had you under his desk while he held meetings with his employees or made phone calls. Honestly, there was little you two had not done in this room.

“Oh, darling, such pretty noises,” he pressed a sweet kiss to your neck, “Are you getting close to cumming?” You nodded, feeling your heart racing and as his fingers shifted into thrusting inside you. Emmet always easily found the best spots inside you and targetted them. He gave a hum as he worked you faster into a quick and easy high on his lap. You laid your head on his shoulder as a loud moan rang out from you. The fabric of his slacks brushed against your skin, getting your juices all over them. A chuckle came from him.

There was a prominent bulge in the crotch of them, too, you noticed. His hand rubbed at your back softly as you came back down. “... More?” he asked. Of course, you nodded. Emmet truly did not have to ask that, but it was sweet of him to still check like you were both still new to doing this. He lifted you off his lap and sat you on his desk. Watching him with bated breath, the older man easily undid his belt and button. Pulling down the white slacks, you felt yourself eager for the cock that popped out. Its tip was flushed red and a bit of precum had leaked out. Emmet was good at driving trains, competitive battling, and sex.

“Darling, you look excited,” he teased you by pressing you back against his already cleared desk, “We just had sex yesterday.” His length pressed to your folds and left you shuddering. The solid warmth was always enough to get your brain rushing with endorphins.

“I think I'm addicted,” you laughed, locking your arms around his neck, “Guess I'm into dirty, old, clown men.” His brows furrowed, but his smile remained. You barely had time to react to him shifting his hips and spearing you open. A loud cry came from you as he pressed deeply inside you.

“Mean, mean, darling!” he cooed as he watched your face twist with pleasure. A fast and rough pace was quickly set by him as he fucked you against the wooden desk. You loved getting him like this. Your nails dug into the fabric of his button-up and his tie, got into where your shirt had been unbuttoned by him. Everything was surging in your brain.

Soft groans escaped him as you tightened your core around him. His lips pressed to yours again to continue your passionate kiss from earlier. A sweet flavour always lingering on his tongue, making the kiss something of a sugar high. His hands held your thighs apart, gripping them enough to certainly leave marks. You fell into the lull of it all, happy to take what he would give. It was hard not to love him. Even if he was not the best with his words, he obvious personality held you to him.

It was not long until both of you found your highs in each other's bodies and laid panting against the desk. A warmth bloomed deep inside you, and Emmet rested his head on your chest. You combed through his hair unconsciously while trying to regain yourself. There was an urge to tease him about his hairline, but you decided to leave it there. You smiled at him when his eyes met yours.

“Love you, Emmy,” you told him with ease, long since having passed his fears of abandonment.

“I love you, too,” he replied sweetly, reaching to grasp your hand from his head.

For a moment, you both decided to bask in your affection for one another before returning to the boring lull of work.

~

“Em, where's my underwear?”

“Secret!”

“Emmet! I need those!”

[tydhl]

Th’ell ya’ doing here, lady? (Monty x reader)

Chapter 2. Who th’ell are ya’, lady?

Summary

Oh no!

It looks like you’re not a registered character in the Plex’s system, how unfortunate.

Good thing Montgomery Gator here realized you aren’t human! He will be in charge of escorting you back to the daycare.

Warnings: Mild swearing.

Headcanons used:

Monty is glad to be a rockstar but is jealous of Feedy being fan favorite.

Monty is very gentle with children.

“It’s past closing hours, lady, what th’ell ‘ya doing here?”

—————

You stared up at the much larger animatronic, optics widened in terror. If your voice box was operational, you’d probably be screaming by now. You felt your CPU buzz loudly inside your chestplate, frantically calculating an escape route while you stood frozen. The gator was massive, being a good few feet taller than you, and looked like he could easily bench press a car if he wanted to.

You shakily brought your hands up and in a placating gesture and shook your head, trying to signal that you meant no harm. You glanced behind the gator, trying to judge the distance you’d have to run if you could slip past him. This only seemed to aggravate the already aggressive animatronic.

Monty felt his security module continuously ping his processor on the steps he needed to take now that he has located a trespasser to ‘keep Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex a safe place for all families to enjoy.’ He blinked at her rapid movements, becoming irritated if not confused on what you were trying to convey other than a frantic gesture.

He internally pinged Vanessa about the situation, needing a human employee to process any human infringement. 

Bringing his attention back to the shorter animatronic, he spoke up. “You stay here, an officer is going ta come talk to ya’ on how you’ll be processed fer trespassing on private property.” He said, pulling back a bit as he kept his harsh gaze on you, the response automatic and robotic as ever.

You winced at it’s scowl aimed towards you. At the mention of an officer getting involved in the situation, you began to panic. It hasn’t even asked who you we’re! 

He stared at you for a moment longer before he noticed that you weren’t quite…well, human.

“…What in the—?” 

He jerked his head back to get a better look before quickly running a full body scan. When his system revealed to him that he was, in-fact, talking to another animatronic, he didn’t quite know what to do.

Why weren’t you in his database? Surely they would’ve added the ID of a new member to the plex when they issued you. …Or maybe not, heck, this corporation isn’t known for being the nicest to their… assets. 

The gator stared at you for another tense moment before stepping back, letting go of the recharge station. A flicker of embarrassment was present in his face but was quickly masked by a scowl.

“Who th’ell are ya, lady?” He asked, crossing his arms as he stared you down. “I ain’t ever seen ya ‘round here before.”

You began to sign frantically, using your digits to convey what an answer to what was asked of you.

‘I’m the Daycare Attendant’s helper! Sorry if I intruded, I didn’t mean to wander so far or know that it would cause any problems.’ You looked up at the gator animatronic apologetically, after you gave him your name, equally embarrassed as you held your hands close to your chest.

Monty felt his scowl soften a bit when he realized you couldn’t speak. His optics quickly caught on to your ASL, already having been downloaded in his programming as a part of the ‘PCA’ part of his purpose during events. He decided not to comment on your lack of speech.

“You from the Daycare, huh? You don’t look as creepy as those clowns, heard management’s gonna to do something ‘bout their faceplates soon.” He replied, tilting his head to the side as he grimaced at the thought of the Daycare Attendant’s appearance. 

Whoever designed their likeness sure didn’t know what they were doing, those bots look creepy as hell. They did them so dirty. He quickly linked a quick picture of you and your name into a file for later. 

“Didn’t even have ya in my system. I’m guessing you’re new then.” He added, letting out a hiss of pressured air past his nostrils in a pretend huff.

That made sense. The human staff you’ve interacted with didn’t seem particularly interested in any of the bots. To leave out coding your addition to the animatronic staff does seem like something the would do, even intentionally.

“Moon’s allowed to come out of the Daycare during his rounds, he must be near Roxy Raceway by now. Sun, on the other hand, his programming won’t let the bot set foot outta the place, heck, I don’t think he can even think about doing so.” The gator mused, feeling himself relax slowly while he pinged Vanessa once again, this time to take back his request.

“I don’t know nothing ‘bout you though, if ya can or can’t.” He said, his scrutinizing gaze remaining fixed on you as he waited for a reply.

You blinked once, twice. Adverting your gaze, knowing full well that your programming doesn’t exactly specify whether or not you’re allowed to leave the daycare. You do, however, have a high clearance than Sun, being that you can leave without your joints locking up as soon as you crossed the Daycare doors.

You shrugged, deciding to change the topic.

‘You’re pretty intimidating, all the animatronics here as tall as you?’ Okay, maybe not the best way to divert the subject, but an attempt nonetheless.

The gator snorted at your words. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s being intimidating. He brought a hand up to tilt his glasses down his snout and gave the shorter animatronic a grin. “Most of us, yeah, we’re pretty tall, modeled after th’ same endo.” He said, sliding his purple shades back up his snout.

‘Well, I may not be tall, but I am softer than most animatronics here. They gave me a complete silicone casing and memory foam pads on my hands.’ You signed, bringing your hands up for demonstration. ‘You can see for yourself.’ 

Monty’s smile faltered at your trusting gesture, looking down at her extended hand with a surprised expression. His jaw clicked shut as he processed your offer. You was offering to let him touch you. Him? Slowly, the bulky animatronic brought his clawed hand up to gently rest it in yours. Despite his reputation for being a destructive individual, the gator animatronic can be gentle. He’s gentle with the children, he’s never hurt one. She was true to her word, her servos were, in-fact, soft, silicone coating her palms.

A slow thumping noise was heard behind the gator and he quickly pulled away, an embarrassed expression painting his mostly static face. His tail had been wagging, and he mentally cursed the the programmer that had decided to add that involuntary reaction into his software. He looked away and crossed his arms, scowling once again.

You quirked a brow in amusement at his abrupt motion, effectively putting some distance between the both of you. 

“Yeah, well, ya should probably head back to the daycare if ya aren’t on patrol, it’s dangerous out here.” He grumbled.

You agreed, it was probably best for you to return to the daycare. However, you’d like to catch the gator’s name before you left, he was the first person outside your daycare duties that you’ve meet, after all.

‘Right, of course, but, before I leave, may I get your name?’ You signed, waiting patiently for his reply.

He glanced back at you, narrowing his eyes. Did you really not know who he was? Did you not know who the band was? Wait…then that means you don’t know who Freddy is, or about his reputation, which also means that you can’t compare him to Freddy like everyone else. The opportunity just walked right into his very hands, an opportunity he’s not going to miss.

Monty turned to face you, brining a clawed digit to tilt his bright, purple shades down and winked at you. “Name’s Montgomery, Montgomery Gator, but ya can call me Monty, doll-face.” He said, knowing this is his shot on making a memorable introduction with his southern charm.

You felt your fans kick up a notch at the pet name, but payed no other mind to it.

“I’m the band’s bassist, you could say I’m a fan favorite, got my own golf course an’ all.” The gator drawled rather arrogantly, brining his hands to his hips as he grinned toothily.

“You should come by some time, I’ll show ya how ta play, it’s on the house.” Monty offered smoothly, looking down at you through the violet hue of his signature shades.

You smiled at his offer, perhaps you should make going out of the daycare part of your routine. It would be a nice change. 

‘That would be nice.’ 

His grin widened.

As you turned on your heel, you hesitated. You really didn’t want to get lost again, and Monty did seem like a person who knew the place well. Turning back towards him, you signed.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, I know this place like th’ strings on my bass.” He said, brushing you off as he brushed one of his hands over his mohawk in a causal manner. “I can help you out, easy, wouldn’t want you to run into any other members of the band and throw yourself into a locker or something.” Monty teased, a loud bark of laughter escaping him before as he walked past you, already making his way to the Daycare.

He also didn’t want you running into Freddy, but the gator would never admit that. If you met him, he’s certain she’d realize how much of a mess the Gator actually is plus how much better the bear was compared to him. You’d forget all about Montgomery Gator. He can’t let that happen, he won’t let that happen. Shoving the dark thought back into the depths of his processor, he focused on the situation at hand.

“‘Sides, Moon can cover for me, he does owe me one.” The gator added as he looked back at her from over his shoulder with a grin.

“Get over here, short stack.” He called, gesturing for her to follow him.

You quickly followed after him, running to catch up to the larger animatronic. Falling into step beside him, you glanced up at the gator. His color scheme was a lot different to Sun and Moon’s, his attire as well. While the Daycare attendant sported s circus themed outfit, the glamrock wore a much more eighties-esque type aesthetic, reminiscent of the 80’s rockstar, David Bowie.

He glanced down at you and you adverted your gaze quickly, embarrassed to have been staring. Deciding that the floor was much more interesting, you kept your eyes glued to the tiles. The gator chuckled, much to your chagrin. Monty was used to the attention, either good or bad, having eyes on him wasn’t a new feeling, rather just as normal as recharging for him.

As you two passed the band’s green rooms, you perked, pointing at the show rooms as you turned your head to look up at the gator. 

Using your other hand to sign at him simply, you asked. ‘Your friends?’

“Hm? Oh, yeah, that’s where th’ band and I have our showrooms.” Monty replied, keeping his optics trained on you for any other signs. 

His tail slowly swept back and forth behind him, another indicator of his better mood. The gator’s eyes landed on Freddy’s room, and he fought back the urge to bare his teeth, instead, smiling down at the little lady.

“Maybe I can show ya ‘round some time, give ya a tour and all that jazz.” Monty added, glancing at his room’s door. 

The bulky animatronic grimaced a bit, optics quickly switching to his room’s visual feed. He’d have to get a S.T.A.F.F. bot to clean up the mess he made after his temper tantrum earlier in the day. He returned his gaze back to the shorter animatronic as they neared the Daycare entrance. 

“If you’re lucky, I might even take a picture with ya.” The reptilian animatronic said with a grin. “You’ll be a certified Montgomery Gator fan!” 

You clapped your hands excitedly, relying more on your body language and actions to get your mood across. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? 

When your eyes landed on the Daycare’s doors, you balked. You didn’t want to end your conversation with Monty just yet, you’d just gotten to know him. 

‘Will is see you again?’

The animatronic gator blinked down at the you, surprise evident on his face as his optics widened. You wanted to see him again? Him, Montgomery Gator? Suck on that Fazbear!

With a toothy grin, he brought his hand to your forehead, flicking your faceplate, making you lurch back with a surprised expression. “Sure ya will, doll.” 

Stepping back, he looked past the netted wall that separated the daycare from the gift shop area. “Say hi to Sun for me, alright?” Monty said, returning his focus to you.

You rubbed at your forehead, watching him with narrowed eyes. This made Monty grin wider as he continued.

“And don’t let me catch you wandering where you shouldn’t, just ping me if you need someone to—” he gave her a mischievous grin, “‘assist a new bot with directions’.”

He quickly found your data signature in the Plex’s network and shot you a quick message, just a simple ‘hey’. “You can use th’ network to message me after hours or during your break, usually only security guards use it, but it’s pretty nifty for us bots to stay in touch.” 

You jerked a bit at the message popping up in your visual feed before grinning, giving him a thumbs up. 

”I’ll see you—“

The daycare doors opened suddenly, cutting the animatronic gator off. You both turned to look at what had interrupted your little conversation.

“Sunshine! I’m so glad you’re back, I got worried when I couldn’t find you anywhere! Moon went out to look for you and—…” the sun-themed animatronic tilted his faceplate when he noticed the band’s bassist standing next to you. 

His milky white optics seemed to darken, though perhaps that was just the lighting. “Oh! You brought the gator…with you.”

[theghostbunnie]

Hey, I just want you to know I really like your work! It's beautiful and really creative, and I think you understand these characters to a T, cause your headcanons are extremely in character.

Speaking of which: do you have any headcanons for David and Gwen, both individually and as friends?

AAAAAAAAAAAA TYSM THAT'S SO SWEET 💖💖💖💖 I tried to awnser this the other day but realized I was multiple paragraphs into a character analysis and not HCs (if any of you guys left me an ask and I haven't awnsered it yet I still always appreciate it I probably just plan to draw something for it or haven't got the time rn)

When David says something like "before nature took me against her bosom I was in clown school in france" (I'm not kidding he says bosom lmaooo) but he knew he loved nature at age 10, so either he was there before age 10 or the nature not yet embracing him bit meant he was withheld from it. Either his mother sent him there (cannonicaly doesn't have a dad) or he had the WEIRDEST college "figure yourself out, experiment" phase and I'm guessing the latter. He had a sudden spark of a new special interest and wanted to try pursuing it but his clowning instructor(?) scared him out of it after awhile.

I HC David wanted to be a clown bc he loved all the family friendly etiquette rules especially, ontop of the obvious making people happy and entertained.

David cannonicaly loves the zodiac signs and allthat and potential hot take but that man is a Sagittarius ♐.

David is stubborn and I feel this is an obvious fact about him but I wanna go further in depth with a HC that sometimes if he doesn't like something he won't just be in a general ol denial about it, he will full heartedly actually believe hisown truth instead.

Maybe not a "David as an individual" HC but I like to believe he respects, and likes QM's company alot! (When the man isn't being *too* off-putting) like when he's telling that ghost story about respecting your elders we see a cabin with a framed picture of silhouettes that look like QM were related to them and even the book in the story has that octopus God on it. So I assumed that was actually a real place somewhere in the woods David saw at one point/QM took him to. Either during his time as an employee or a camper himself. Also Quarter Master seems *at times* to be annoyed at David. Not like body language or facial exspressions I just get that vibe from his attitude and phrasing. He lied when he told him "fighting animals is apart of his culture" to get him to leave him alone about it I just know it.

Gwen is an anime watching "otaku" or atleast had a phase and has probably watched unheard of semi f*tish series that only lasted 10-12 episodes with really long title names. Genuinely rewatching the show so much of her screentime is hating her job in different ways or reading, writing, or playing VR 🌽. Or being a hopeless romantic. (She could've stayed with Graggle but only liked him for her monster f*tish and to romanticize herself as this YA novel MC)

She definitely LOVES x reader fics and takes on a slightly new persona in her fantasies.

I HC her with a bit of stage fright and her love for music being casual instead of a passion, that ontop of wanting to make something for herself is why she didn't piggyback off her dad's career and go into music. His career did atleast pay for whatever degree she wanted to persue (how she was able to get so many) and her fear of wasted potential is what made her have so many to begin with.

She partially willingly puts herself into positions where she gets burnt out to the point she's gotten kinda used to it.

So that's kinda why she can call it out early in David and tell him when he needs to have a break in that one EP.

David offering Gwen to read one of her stories she writes to the campers leads me to either believe he doesn't know what she writes is 🌽 or that and she also shares her sfw writing with him to get his opinion. (Which is nearly always positive but I feel like people forget David has his moments even if HE'S unaware of em) like "This chapter is excellent, Gwen!! Gosh, I'm just on the edge of my seat!! And there's only half the grammar mistakes of last time! :DD" and he fully means that as a compliment.

David also definitely got Gwen into astrology. She only cares about learning facts about her own, finding out the birthdays of celebrity and fictional characters and then seeing if they're compatible. Woman with identity issues? Eats it up.

They both loved Bob Ross before they met and it was one of the first things they bonded over as they were becoming friends. I HC Gwen was chipper at the job at the very first bit but it QUICKLY wore her down, David going off that first impression kept his excited team-loving liking of her, where as Gwen as she got to know him over those first weeks grew really annoyed with him as a coworker, but once getting to know him further than that the friendship started to become mutual.

[novel-sugar]

“I’M IN LOVE WITH AN ANIMATRONIC BALLERINA!?” Chapter. 1

A Ballora x Reader fic I’ve been been working on and off all year since Ballora has absolutely no longform “X Reader” content and as the unofficial #1 Ballora Fan™️, I had to do my girl justice!

Nothing nsfw just fluff with a long story (which is why it’ll be broken into parts)

You were nervous, there was no denying that and who could blame you? It was your first night on the job at one of the biggest names in animatronic entertainment as an after hours technician. The job description seemed simple enough in the ad of that magazine you read at the dentist's office a week prior, you were in desperate need of some easy cash and this seemed to be it. Getting paid just to tweak a few robots that acted funny every now and then, piece of cake right? You soon realized just how HORRIBLY mistaken you actually were not long after.

  At the time, the animatronics that you pictured yourself working on would be nothing more than the basic, run-of-the-mill, bots in animal costumes you'd see at a place like Freddy Fazbear's Pizza (which ironically enough was part of the same conglomerate you work for now, before its closure), but that fantasy came crashing down the following day once you received your company-issued catalogue in the mail. It must've been sent to help you familiarize yourself with your new "coworkers" (and if you had little ones of your own: entice you to use your lovely employee rental discount of 2% off), a massive wave of dread washed over you as you flipped through the pages of the flimsy, paper booklet. These animatronics were NOTHING like anything you had ever seen before in your entire life, they were fully metallic, predominantly white in color, and the most jarring part of all was the way all of their faces seemed to be segmented into various pieces. You read each character's bio in detail, for the most part is was the typical flavor text tied to each animatronic you'd expect, but to the sides were specifics and features that immediately made you start reconsidering this career choice.

Here you were several days later, not feeling better about your decisions in the slightest. Despite all better judgement telling you not to; you decided to follow through with the job you felt that you were EXTREMELY underqualified for. "Maybe it'll be fine." you thought to yourself. "The ad said that no experience or higher education was required! It couldn't be that bad . . . could it?" You felt slight comfort in your words, but a lingering unease remained as you stepped foot into the elevator in front of you. The elevator was large and looked like something straight out of a futuristic metropolis you'd read about in a sci-fi novel, only made more jarring by the two animatronic posters hanging flimsily on the metallic walls. You had made it a point to memorize the characters' names from the catalogue and were able to recognize them immediately, the one on the bottom left was the main star of the facility: Circus Baby, a juggernaut of a clown with reddish orange hair tied up in pigtails & her small, bald, child-like companions the Bidybabs. Your attention turned to the poster on the upper-right of the elevator doors, the animatronic in the poster was a tall, slender, ballerina named Ballora. She had companions of her own aptly named the "Minireenas" that weren't portrayed in the poster, you only knew about their existence from the catalogue. "Ballora" the name rang throughout your mind, there was something about her that seemed to have stuck with you since you first laid eyes on her page in the catalogue days before. Was it her strange but charming name? The blue motif of her hair and clothing? The welcoming smile that was formed on her face? Or maybe it was her noticeably feminine physique? Never before would you ever think it was possible for a kiddie oriented company like this to make a character, so...so, anatomically accurate.  You felt if you didn't know better, she looked like she could easily pass as an actual woman (at least from afar), your gaze returned to the poster and fixated on the image of the ballerina once again.

As your descent into the underground workplace continued, your mind started to wander as you grew lost looking into the image of her once again until suddenly- a loud voice came blaring throughout speakers hidden inside the elevator, startling you and snapping you out of your trance. The disembodied voice explained that it was an automated guide (with a long name) that you could simply call the "HandUnit", once that was explained an immediate rush of relief was felt all over your body. It had finally made sense to you why the job description seemed so simple despite the animatronics being so advanced, it's because you had a guide to point you towards the right direction the whole time, guess this'll be easy money afterall! After trying (and failing) to input your name on the small yellow tablet, your elevator had finally reached it's destination, a small, happy jingle began to play through the elevator for a few seconds. Once it was over, as if on cue, the elevator's lights had shut off leaving you in complete darkness if not for the dim, white light outside and the large, red, glowing button to the right of the doors. HandUnit's voice instructed you to press the button to open them, allowing you to exit into the emptiness outside, the only thing you could see in front of you from the lighting was an opening to a ventilaton shaft. With no other places to go from what you could see, you crawled into the vent hoping that it wouldn't lead into a giant fan at the end. Your fears were put to rest once you heard HandUnit's voice again, as you crawled through cramped space the voice gave a brief history about the company and it's rise to success after the closure of Freddy's. By the end of it's monologue you could see a bright light at the end of the metal tunnel. You slid out of the vent carefully pulling your legs out one at a time and being mindful of your footing as HandUnit explained this new area was known as the "Primary Control Module".

It was a small room bathed in eerie green light, pipes and wires of various shapes and sizes lined the walls. Your eyes scanned across the room, there were two small filing cabinents (with assorted miniature animatronics on top of both) that stood parallel to each other on the sides of what appeared to be another vent that was located at the bottom of the wall in the middle of the room. Ironically enough, there was indeed a giant fan like you had worried about but it was behind a grate in the wall to your front, lastly you spotted more company memorabillia (a clock with Baby's face and a poster of the character "Funtime Foxy") on the walls to your left and right accordingly. The most unnerving aspect about this room however (aside from the clown mask hanging on the wall in front), were the giant windows on both sides you hadn't noticed up until this point, it felt almost as if you were in a zoo or aquarium of sorts but for what you weren't sure. Your question was soon answered when Handunit went on to explain that the rooms connected to the other sides of the windows were apparrently for the animatronics themselves. The room behind the left window was Ballora Gallery, the moment the AI voice uttered those words you felt your heart skip a beat. The thought of being able to get to see Ballora on your first night on the job left you with a strange feeling, a mix between anxiety and elation, like meeting a celebrity. You stared at the buttons on the control panel in front of you, there were two in total: The one on top had what appeared to be a sun and the one below had a lightning bolt. The voice instructed you to press the one on top to access the lights in Ballora's room, you were nervous but you'd do as you were told. "She's just a robot, what's there to be afraid of?" you thought to yourself as your finger pressed the blue button.

The lights in the other room activated in an instant, but to your confusion Ballora and her Minireenas were nowhere to be found. HandUnit's response to the situation made it seem that this problem was a regular occurence and that it could be easily fixed with a "controlled shock"? Your eyes glanced down to the red button that your guide had informed you about, your finger hovered above the button for a few seconds before you pressed it. Suddenly, a loud, blaring sound pierced your ears and a quick flash of blue light could be seen in Ballora Gallery. The mysterious light had vanished as HandUnit implored you to check the lights in the other room once again. That is, once you recovered from your mild heart attack after this whole experience. You had no idea what just happened but apparently your guide thinks that it helped, so who were you to question it? You had pressed the blue button, once again the lights in the left room activated, but only this time; there she was. You could see her standing under the bright lights of the room, she stood on a large, metallic stage that seemed to be not too far from your window. Her Minireenas could be seen gathered around her, 2 on each side, 4 in total. The little mannequin-esque figures bobbed up and down with their arms in the air doing what seemed to be part of their dance routine as Ballora herself spun in place. You were in awe at the sight of the beautiful display, it could be described as something you would see from an old fashioned music box. Seeing the way Ballora had her hands held high over her head, her slender frame perfectly executing a 360° turn, something about this left you mesmerized for the few seconds you could watch before the lights abruptly shut themselves off.

HandUnit's voice broke the awkward silence congratulating your handiwork and directing your attention to the window on the right. You repeated a similar series of events but this time with Funtime Auditorium and one of it's two namesakes, Funtime Foxy (you had no clue on the whereabouts of Funtime Freddy). Once that was over, you were advised to proceed to once again crawl through a vent into another room (you began to sense a pattern here), the small door guarding the vent unlocked itself allowing you to crawl through to the room in front of you called "Circus Gallery". After traversing through another long stretch of metal, you found yourself standing in another room but only this one was much dimmer with the only sources of light being the large, bright multicolor lights above the giant glass window in front of you. There was a small doll dressed in blue held high on strings to the left of the glass, and another dressed like a magician sat on top of a large, confusing looking control panel coated in a variety of buttons, dials, switches and other devices. There was a giant window directly past it, and behind the pane of glass was supposedly Circus Baby (if HandUnit's words were to be believed) and her Bidybabs. You did as you were instructed before in the Primary module with the smaller control panel to the right side of the room but despite your best efforts (in this case mashing the buttons your guide told you to) neither Baby nor her little friends came into view on the other side of the window. Despite this, HandUnit confusingly seemed satisfied with your results. You couldn't understand but you felt no need to question it, the voice seemed satisfied so you might as well roll with it. HandUnit informed you soon afterwards, that was the last of your tasks for the night and that you were free to go back home for now. You had a feeling you could get used to a job like this.

After crawling back into the control module, you turned your head towards Ballora Gallery before exiting into the vent you first entered at the start. The vision of Ballora practicing her pirouette with the Minireenas danced within your mind once more as you stared into the inky, black void on the other side of the window. You returned home later that night and immediately flopped face down into your soft, warm bed exhausted from a night of not really doing much. You fell asleep almost instantly, pausing for only a moment to take your shoes off and casting them to the side of your mattress, slowly you drifted into a deep slumber not long afterwards. As you slept, your mind couldn't stop fixating on her. The enviornment in your dream was hazy but you could make out just enough details for a clear image, you could see you were the only one in what appeared to be an old fashioned performance theatre. A large, bright purple curtain hung over the stage, there was a dark blue trim at the bottom and the shape of dark purple roses were woven into the fabric. You heard an unseen announcer speak from somewhere in the room, "Ladies & Gentlemen, Boys & Girls, please stay in your seats and give a warm welcome to the beautiful, the lovely, Miss Ballora!" Upon hearing her name, without any recollection of moving you found yourself sitting in the front row of a sea of empty navy blue seats, your view directly to the center of the curtain which slowly started to raise. The lights around the theatre dimmed as the curtain rose into the rafters above, the room had been plunged into darkness until suddenly the stage lights overhead cast down a pale blue light. There Ballora stood on stage, she bowed gently towards the "audience" (if you could even call it that since it was just you) and soon enough the silent theatre was filled with music. It was unlike anything you had ever heard before, it was somber but wistful. Ballora had begun dancing as the music filled the room and as soon as she did, the world around you seemed to disappear almost instantly, all that remained was Ballora still dancing in a now empty void of purple clouds. She danced seemingly without a care in the world performing an ensemble of ballet routines and you were enjoying each and every second of it. It truly felt like paradise. Eventually after what seemed like hours, her dancing had come to a stop and she took a bow as you clapped vigorously. At that moment, you woke up. Your eyes opened to the ceiling in your residence, bathed in moonlight seeping through the window from the bedroom wall. Realizing the dream you just had, you came to a disturbing realization and could only utter two words in shock: "Oh no."

[strawberryspotsstuff]

HI ITS ME AGAIN !!!!!! OKAY REQUESTING AGAINN<,,, TODAYS REQUEST IS A YUKC0 X MALE READER BUT THE MALE READER IS REALLY NEW TO THE CIRCUS AND IS ABSOLUTELY AN IDIOT AND G0Z IS LIKE "OKAY YUKC0 BE NICE TO THE CREATURE" LANBSYGTDFGSHJA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OKAY BYE HAVE A GREAT DAY OR NIGHT !!!!

LMFAOOO YESSS!!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

YUKC0 X Male!Reader

"OKAY, HE'S NEW HERE, YOU HAVE TO BE NICE!" G0Z encouraged, patting his friend's shoulder, smiling happily as he leaned back and forth on his heels.

Both clowns watched from the circus as you adventured around the stalls, the warm smell of candy and popcorn wafted in the air from it's carts, as crowds of people adventure around, gaining prizes and toys. You walked around aimlessly making a fool of yourself, tripping ((on your own feet)) and failing to steal prizes when you lost.

YUKC0 cringed, rolling his eyes.

"Do I have to meet him?" He groaned.

"YES!!!!!!!" G0Z grinned, shouting loudly as he pushed him. "GO ON!"

He sighed, dragging himself down to you. You were laying face first into the mud, rolling yourself over, looking up at him with un-blinking eyes.

"Hi!" You smiled, raising your hand willing for a shake.

He forced a smile, shaking it, his face visibly creased into a the look of disgust, feeling your sweaty palms. You took this chance to "monkey grip" his arm and pull yourself up.

"GAH-" he yelped, shaking your grip off and shuffled backwards.

"Sooo, who are you? One of the employees of this grand place?" You asked, titling your head.

"Uh.... yeah.... the name's YUKC0" he introduced.

"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Yuck!" Taunting him with a lopsided grinned. "the names Y/N" You introduced, bowing your body dramatically.

"Mr... yeah, nice ta meetcha to" He grumbled.

"Uh, did you wanna..." He paused, squinting at G0Z who was giving him thumbs ups, giving a skin-stretching smile.

"Wanna... uh get a.. tour?" He slurred out, rubbing the back of his neck.

"O?! The one and only, YUKC0 is giving, me, a tour?" You sung, he groaned in response.

The rest of the night, the rest of the circus crew introduced you, even the G0Z himself, and the night was entailed with circus actives and copious amounts of food and candy.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

heheheh funny clown people

[lemon-lime-limbo]

𝖆 𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 | 𝖆 𝖏𝖏𝖇𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

pairing: polnareff x gn! reader

warnings: um mentions of blood, spooky sorta theme, idk

genre: fluff!

word count: .8k

note: this is for my best friend! hope u enjoy it bestie POLNAREFF IS SO CUTE

If someone had told you a few weeks ago that Polnareff was going to take you on a date to a haunted house, especially the scariest haunted house in a ten mile radius, you never would have believed it. In fact, even though you and Polnareff are standing next to each other waiting in line, you’re still not sure you can believe it. 

“What are the waivers for?” you say, craning your neck around to see the papers being passed between employees and customers.

Polnareff laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders casually. “To let the actors touch you when they try to scare you,” he says.

Your brows furrow. “That sounds… scary.”

He kisses your forehead. “Do not worry! I will protect you.”

You smile. “Of course you will.”

The line continues to move forward, groups of people clutching to each other as they enter the main event. Screams echo into the night about fifty feet from where you and Polnareff stand; at the ticket counter. 

Polnareff hands the employee with smeared clown face paint two tickets from his pocket. “I bought them in advance, so we could make sure to go,” he says with a smug look on his face.

You just laugh. He always seems to plan ahead. When the waivers are signed, you get ushered along the path toward the big building with flashing lights coming from inside. Polnareff’s steps are even and calculated as he wraps his hand around yours, his palm only slightly sweaty, unlike yours, which is much sweatier, evidence of your nervousness for this date. 

“What did I tell you? Do not worry. I will protect you from them!” Polnareff cheers. “If they want to scare you, they will have to go through me first!”

You laugh and punch him gently on the shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that.”

When you pass the two pillars at the front, you enter the building, the creaky floors and mostly fake cobwebs getting caught on your clothes marking your entrance. You can’t bring yourself to turn towards Polnareff, barely able to will your shaky footsteps forward into the barely-lit hallway. 

“Your hand is very cold, my dear,” Polnareff says, his voice trembling slightly.

You turn your head slowly to face him, your eyes wide. “That’s… that’s not my hand…”

Polnareff turns around to see the ghoul breathing down the back of his neck, his face going white as the actor smiles creepily, revealing blood dripping down their teeth. He screams, shutting his eyes tightly and tightening his hold on your hand. You lead him away from the actor, who follows quietly behind the two of you.

He’s still white as a sheet when you look at him next, attempting to lead him away from the other actors to prevent him from having a heart attack. The floorboards creak when you step on them, and he screams again. “That was me…” you mumble with a soft laugh. 

Fake blood drips from the ceiling as you enter a new room. Terrified, Polnareff looks up, and you do the same. A mannequin is strapped to the ceiling, its hand dangling, able to graze the tops of both of your heads. He whimpers softly as you urge him to move on, pulling him through the room.

You’re too slow, however, and the mannequin smiles, more blood coming from its mouth. “I-it’s a… real person!” he stammers, frozen in place.

“Oh my god! Come on, let’s get out of here!” you shout to him, leading him away. He continues to scream as you rush through each room as fast as you can. The floorboards creak again and you look back to Polnareff, trembling as he clutches your arm. His eyes squeeze shut again and you continue to move past.

More actors jump out at you and grab your shoulders than you ever would have guessed, but even still, you power through. By the last hallway, you’re both screaming and running as fast as you can to get out. 

The cold October air hits the both of you and you slow down, putting your hands on your knees to catch your breath. “Oh my god…” Polnareff whispers hoarsely, also trying to catch his breath. “That was…”

“Terrifying? Absolutely,” you laugh. 

He laughs too. “Sorry for… being a coward.”

You shrug, taking his hand again. “Who cares? We still had fun, didn’t we?”

“I suppose you are right,” he says.

Leading him out of the area, you head towards the parking lot. “And, as a reward for you making it through…” His face brightens. “Let’s go get ice cream. I’ll pay,” you say with a smile.

“Perhaps it was worth it then! But only if I can get cookies and cream.”

“Of course you can! You deserve it, Polnareff.” You press a kiss to his lips and laugh at the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For The Sub | ksj (Teaser)

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Teaser length: 2378

Chapter One length: 11-14k

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy, boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), f/m masturbation, dirty talk, sex toys, kink exploration, uh a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: hello! i haven't written fanfic in years! I've been wanting to get back into it for a long time but I also work full time and am working on a poetry manuscript so this never manifested! This fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, with a lot of inspiration coming from "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy!

xo - h

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’d been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off. 

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality. 

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dream of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people? 

You don’t. That’s the problem. 

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends. 

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to. 

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous. 

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play. 

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence. 

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary. 

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t— 

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel. 

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.  

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk. 

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. . 

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments. 

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them. 

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you. 

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real. 

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.  

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill. 

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod. 

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin. 

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in. 

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into. 

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin. 

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty. 

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in. 

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce. 

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours. 

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red. 

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude. 

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing. 

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down. 

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry. 

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity. 

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off. 

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait. 

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

©2024 by jooniperbonsai