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mydearzero · 22 days ago

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Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice.

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis.

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?”

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook.

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way.

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud.

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled.

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table.

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face.

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again.

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.”

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair.

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head.

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks.

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish.

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable.

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.”

“A kiss.”

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips.

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.”

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole.

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.”

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily.

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall?

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip.

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in.

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way.

“Shut up.”

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles.

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck.

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily.

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles.

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library.

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed.

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge.

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth.

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed.

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly.

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry.

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least.

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?”

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.”

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look.

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed.

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?”

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget.

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly.

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…”

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.”

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained.

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.”

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy.

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance.

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move.

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace.

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you.

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time.

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability.

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it.

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up.

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips.

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door.

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.”

“Yes, Stiles, please!”

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty.

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars.

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips.

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered.

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform.

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.”

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?”

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.”

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra.

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window.

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.”

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house.

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!”

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual.

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.”

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable.

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.”

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obeythebutler · 7 months ago

Note

For the fluff prompt, may I please have Lucifer and "making funny faces behind the computer while the other one is in a boring Zoom meeting" with Mc being the other one???

It starts small.

The most insignificant of details that the eye won't catch at first glance, but the brain notices something is amiss.

For starters, the pair of spectacles Lucifer always dons is sitting on his desk. You swear he was wearing them just a moment before—your eyebrows furrow—but then you divert your attention back to the screen. The demon continues with his paperwork.

End semester projects require regular progress checks. Your group members are done informing the professor of their progress, now it is your turn to speak up.

"We are done with our research," You say, involuntarily straightening your posture. "We have encountered several problems while trying to know more about the economic practices of the Devildom in the year 1121. Astarion and I have gathered what we could find and compiled it in the document attached in our recent email to you."

"And what is to be done next?" The demon asks.

Magoth speaks up, and you take the moment to grab the bottle of water next to you. You open the cap and take a sip, eyes darting behind the screen.

"We have already verified it from—"

You choke on the liquid in your throat.

Several voices of concern chime in through your speakers as you hack and cough. Hurriedly wiping your mouth, you splutter and blurt out words of assurance. The talking resumes, and your brain can't believe what it saw.

Lucifer, pouting as he stares into his phone, the device outstretched in his left hand. Puckered lips and and all.

"Don't." You mouth the words at the demon, who smirks and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

"This project will be submitted by the end of next month," You pipe in, voice confident of your group's ability to meet deadlines. "There's a survey also planned for extra credit, and Astarion has already formulated the questions."

"Very good! Ah, that reminds me, I've made a new email id—please mail me your survey results on..............."

You make the mistake of glancing at Lucifer.

You have to resist the urge to smile after.

He's winking at you now, comically so, and the demon looks ridiculous.

You mute your mic, and let yourself giggle. "Lucifer," You whine, "I'm in a meeting!"

"Can't I have a little fun now and then?" He says, picking up his pen again. "Besides, you should be focused on the meeting, and not on external variables."

You glare at the demon.

"MC?" Magoth chimes. "Are you trying to say something? Your mic's on mute."

You force yourself to make a polite smile. "Everything's alright! Just a little disturbance. Please, carry on."

You lean back on your chair. The sound of pen scribbling on paper makes for a suitable background noise, and you finally focus on the meeting being held.

You assume the demon has finally calmed down on his rare antics.

Progress is made, conclusions revised, and the meeting is wrapped up in the next twenty minutes.

You close your laptop after, and nearly jump in your seat.

Because there is Lucifer, eyebrows furrowed and a hand grabbing his chin. Lower lip being bitten by his teeth.

This time, you let yourself laugh freely.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #omswd

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yamumsyadadd · 12 days ago

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different

Part of the Marquita universe. Others can be found here:

Marquita, mama and mami, accident

A/N: talks of homophobia, bullying. this was fun to write! If you have any more questions for Marquita or if I should make another universe let me know!

It was hard growing up with parents like Alexia Putellas and Jenni Hermoso. Both were incredibly talented footballers, attractive and smart, add Olga into the mix and it felt like you’d never reach the same level.

Olga went to university, graduated top of her class and then went on to her masters, Alexia got a degree in business, and Jenni in economics. There were a lot of high expectations, in school, in football, in life in general.

To be the daughter of two of spains best players in history, well it was back breaking work. Football was not a sport you enjoyed, at all. You weren’t horrible at it, but you weren’t at the same level as your parents or Tia’s. It was to be expected since you were only twelve. There was time to get better, to showcase your skills. Skills you didn’t have, nor did you really want.

School wasn’t much better. You weren’t horrible but you were a dreamer, the teachers complained you were always off with the fairies but in honesty, you couldn’t care less. Maths was the only subject you cared about, you’d need it if you wanted to study engineering at university.

The kids at school often picked on you for being that way, but you didn’t care that much. It was same with the football team. It was almost like the universe was conspiring against you.

It was mid week, right before Christmas when you finally had enough. Your Mami was away for the UWCL game in Sweden, mama had just gone back to Mexico after spending her break with you. Olga’s work had died down a bit due to the holidays.

Your relationship was still a bit strained since the accident but it was slowly repairing itself.

“How do you do it?” You asked Olga as she closed her laptop for the night.

“Do what?”

“Everything? Work in Madrid, Manuela’s, your relationship with Mami and your friends. It’s a lot to juggle.”

“It is. It’s a bit easier now I’m in the routine but essentially my life is split in two. One half in Madrid, the other, more important half here, in Barcelona.”

“You went to university, spent six years studying to do what? No offence but don’t you want more?”

“In what way?”

“You have a degree in communications, you could be a journalist, a public relations person or I don’t know, in marketing but instead you work in social media?”

“You don’t think I’m doing enough?”

“Why social media Olga? Why not something more interesting, more meaningful?”

“Why do your Mami and mama play football? Why do you? Because you all love it. Sure, I could be doing something else, stuck at a desk for nine hours a day, unhappy and bored. But by doing what I do, I get to travel the world with my clients, get introduced to people I’d never imagined meeting, help people became what they want.”

You nodded your head, content with the answer, then stood up and packed up your homework, heading towards your room but not before turning to Olga, “I don’t love football. Not like Mami and mama. I am not like them and that’s okay.” You gave her a sad smile before turning out.

“Mari-“ Olga started before hearing your door close. She let out a sigh, wondering where she went wrong this time. You had asked a question, slightly rudely, but she had answered. Given appropriate reasoning and yet, you seem sad about it all. It was truly baffling.

Going to school the next day was hard. You were stuck in your head all day, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and cry alone. But that wouldn’t happen, not when it was this close to Christmas and it seemed that every other day there was a Christmas event to be attended.

When Pedro Diaz continuously threw his rubber at you in Spanish class, you ignored him. When Maria Santiago called you a freak in gym class because you could run the 3km, you ignored her. But when Diego Cruz said your Mami and mama were going to hell, you lost it.

You weren’t dumb, everyone around you had talked about what it was like for them being gay, the good, the bad, the ugly. You heard it all, but the stories were from when they were kids, not from now. Now is supposed to be more welcoming, more accepting, but people like Diego and his parents exist.

Alexia, Jenni and Olga had all received the same phone call. There had been an incident at school and they were needed as soon as possible. Obviously Jenni wasn’t able to make it, but both Olga and Alexia raced there.

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, your Mami had bought two of her younger teammates. She was supposed to take Vicky and Jana home after they got to the training centre but she didn’t have time and they didn’t mind.

Alexia and Olga arrived at the office at the same time. You were sitting there, hair a mess, a soon to be black eye and a bite mark on your arm.

“Mari? What happened?” Alexia crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees. Just as you were about to reply, Diego and his parents walked out of the office. He looked a lot worse than you did. A blood nose that had dripped down onto his shirt, scratch’s around his jaw and neck, not one but two bruising eyes.

“Ms Putellas, Ms Rios, please come in. Y/n, wait out here.”

The tension in the office was palpable. Alexia was fuming, Olga was slightly confused but also mad, Diego’s parents look like they were ready to fight themselves.

“There was an incident during afternoon break between your daughter and another student, Diego.”

“An incident? That’s what you’re calling this? She’s sitting out there with a black eye, and a bite mark on her!” Alexia blew up.

“Ale.” Olga put her hand on alexia’s forearm, trying to calm her down.

“Diego was the instigator, however, your daughter threw him up against a locker, punching him repeatedly until she was pulled off him by two teachers.” The principal let it sink in for a moment before he continued on, “I am aware of a few issues that y/n has been facing, the bullying that other-“

“I’m sorry, bullying? You’re telling me my daughter, our daughter, has been getting bullied here and you haven’t been bothered to call one of us? That’s ridiculous!” Alexia said.

“We were told by y/n that she had spoken to you. We have sent letters home, tried to call you and Jennifer. I must tell you, school isn’t the only place she’s been getting bullied. Y/n told the guidance councillor that at football she gets bullied too.“

When the words registered in Alexia’s head, she felt like she failed. Failed you as a mother, a person. You were getting bullied at school and football and she didn’t notice.

“Where do we go from here?” Olga spoke up, noticing the battle her girlfriend was currently going through.

“The school has a zero tolerance for violence, while Diego has been bullying her, and he will be dealt with, y/n was also apart of this fight so unfortunately I have no choice but to suspend her for the rest of the week.”

“A suspension! No that’s not fair on her!”

“I’m sorry. My hands are tied. I suggest you take her home, and have a conversation with her. We can’t do much more than what we are already doing. If you get anymore names, or it’s via social media, we can take further action but for now this is the only option.”

When Alexia walked straight out of the office without saying anything to you, you knew you were in trouble. Olga gave you a sympathetic smile before motioning for you to get up.

The car ride home was quiet. Your Mami hadn’t arrived back yet since she had to drop the girls off.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Your Mami is going to ask, probably in a not nice way.”

“She’ll be mad. Mad that I didn’t tell her, that I’m not strong like her.”

“Mari, you’re strong. You’re so strong!”

“No im not! Otherwise this wouldn’t have happened! I’m not like them, like you!” You yelled. Trying to get her to understand. “Mami and mama are world class athletes, you’re smart and pretty but I’m- I’m just me.”

“You’re smart, you’re pretty. Sure they are world class athletes but it took them a while to get there, it doesn’t happen over night. You need to train-“

“I don’t want to train! I don’t want to play. I do it because of them Olga. Because of who they are. Everybody tells me how different I am, how I won’t be as good or amount to them. I just want to be enough!”

Olga pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you cried into her. Alexia could be obvious to some things, and this was clearly one of those things.

After a while she coaxed you out of the hug, putting her hands on your cheeks and wiping away the tears, “can you tell me what he said to you? I know you, and I know you wouldn’t just hit someone for no reason.”

“Him and his friends say stuff all the time. I don’t usually respond, and today I didn’t. I guess it just made him angrier. He said.” You took a deep breath, knowing that it would hurt Olga’s feelings as much as it hurt yours, “he said you, Mami and mama were going to hell because you were filthy lesbians, he said something else and so did all his friends. I ignored him and when I went past he pulled my ponytail. I just lost it.”

You heard Olga have a sharp inhale of breath and then pull you towards the couch. For a while you both just sat there, Oga never letting up on the hold she had. When the front door sounded from Alexia getting home, Olga pulled you up and told you to go shower, needing to have a conversation with alexia.

“Amor? Mari? I’m back.” Alexia kicked her shoes off, throwing her keys into the bowl. She knew a conversation was needed but to be honest, she didn’t have the energy.

“Ale.” Olga all but threw herself into her girlfriend’s arms.

“Woah, what happened?”

“They say horrible things to her ale and she doesn’t even do anything.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She told me all about it. Everything they say at football, at school, everything.”

Alexia pulled Olga through to her room, wanting to know everything that was said. It took a while for alexia to understand why Olga was upset but once she did, she was equally upset.

You had showered, thrown your clothes in the hamper and unpacked your bag. You looked towards your mami and Olga’s room for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. You knew what you did was wrong, incredibly wrong but after spending the last year being constantly picked on, it got to you.

It was dark by the time they emerged from their room. Both in different clothes and with damp hair.

“I’m going to order dinner.” Olga said as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Marquita, I need to talk to you.” You nodded, tucking your legs into your chest, scared about the outcome of what is to come. “Olga told me what you said. Do you have anything to add?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah I’m sorry. I thought, I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough like you and mama but when he pulled my hair I just got so angry. They always say things about you and mama but this time they were talking about Olga too.”

“Olga also said you didn’t like football, why don’t you tell me? Or mama? We wouldn’t have forced you to play.”

“Because you’re the Alexia Putellas. Imagine what people would say and think if I didn’t play.”

“I don’t care about what people think or say, what I care about is your happiness, you aren’t happy at school or at football. I’ve spoken to your mama, we will change your school and remove you from football.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No! I’m sad for you, I’m sad you didn’t tell me what was going on, I’m mad at those boys and their parents, and at the principal.”

“I was embarrassed. You and mama are able to ignore everything negative people say and I thought I could do the same.”

“But we can’t.” You gave her a confused look, “since the World Cup, mama has been getting extra mean comments and messages on social media, I have too but not to the same extent. It affects her, it affects me, Olga gets them too. The way we get through it is because we know they are wrong. If two girls want to love each then they can, if two boys want to they can, a boy and a girl? They can. If Jenni and I want to have a family, we can and we did. If Olga and I want too, we can. No one is allowed to tell you or anyone else who they can and can’t love.”

“You and Olga are going to have a baby?”

“That’s all you got out of that?” Alexia laughed, “maybe, do you want a baby brother or sister?”

You launched yourself at your mami, “yes! Both! Twins!”

You were grateful for Olga, the act of telling you mami what had happened seemed like a ginormous task, she made it easier. The more you thought about it, Olga made a lot of things easier. When she was home things ran smoothly, but when she was gone it was like a missing puzzle piece.

As the night drew to a close, you had to call your mama in Mexico. Mami had already told her everything that had happened, so when you two spoke over FaceTime she promised she also wasn’t mad, when the next school holidays were on, you��d fly to Mexico and spend the week with her.

Over the course of the winter break, you and Olga were able to spend more time together. She shared her life story, including the times as a rowdy teenager. She took you shopping for your new school uniform and even bought your first set of makeup.

While you were sad to be leaving the friends you had made, you were glad to be in a new school, a school where you would hopefully be okay.

#woso fanfics #fcb femení #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia x reader #woso community #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #jenni hermoso x alexia putellas #jenni hermoso x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x olga rios

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago

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Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

#pluralistic #john stewart #the daily show #apple #monopoly #lina khan #ftc #too big to fail #too big to jail #monopolism #trustbusting #antitrust #search #enshittification #kagi #google

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totisviribus · 11 months ago

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My kind, innocent, logic-brained engineer boyfriend: “How’s your writing for your book coming along today?”

Me, cursing at the imaginary people in my head who are currently wrestling in a coat closet instead of solving the mystery, meanwhile my laptop is at 10% battery with 10 tabs open about the structural integrity of a parking garage in Boston, what it feels like to be elbowed in the nuts, Regan’s economic theories, and a Reddit post about why the teacup grip is bad when firing a gun. I haven’t seen the sun in 3 days and if I stop listening to one of my painstakingly curated playlists I might die. I’ve written a handbook for a cultish organized crime company and often have to refer to it like a real handbook because I forgot what I’ve written. The coat closet scene is now 3,000 words and these goddamn characters just need to trust each other for Christ sake-

“Its going great thanks for asking honey🤗💕✨”

#writing #writer #creative writing #writblr #writeblr #writers community #writers of tumblr #writing problems #writing a novel #writing memes

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haologram · 4 months ago

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araneae 🕸️ k.sy (teaser)

🕸️ synopsis: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues. 🕸️ genre: friends with benefits au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers because it's the only trope ever ; ta x student dynamics ; fluff, angst & eventual smut (surprise?) 🕸️ pairing: zoology ta!kwon soonyoung x marine biology major!reader | side pairings: joshua hong x sana minatozaki ; vernon chwe x roh jisun (fromis_9) ; mentions of reader x yuta nakamoto (nct) 🕸️ word count: 2.8k | full fic: i don't fuckin' know but hopefully under 20k. 🕸️ rating: 18+. minors do not interact i beg. 🕸️ warnings: mentions of knife play (none involved), alcohol, mentions of protected sex (dw it'll get freaky later), mentions of cum, loss of virginity talk, mentions of marijuana (stoner!hoshi be off the honeypacks!!), they're naked for most of this snippet. a lot of parties later in the fic, just wait LOL. 🕸️ what to listen to: good kisser - usher ; magic stick - lil' kim ; more to come.

LAST YEAR – Sunday, October 23.

You were never opposed to a nice Halloween party. Lots of thematic drinks, stupid boys dressed as Ghostface trying to explore knife kinks, and girls going all out with their glitter make-up and tinsel in their hair for the optimal fairy costume.

You loved a good Halloween party, music blasting out of the speakers that were stolen from the AV Club by the softer version of the Beta Tau Omega brothers. Dancing with strangers in sweat-soaked facades, and waking up with smeared face paint all over your neck and shoulders from whatever disguised hook-up you'd taken home that night.

Last night's rager had to have been one for the books, because you have no idea how you ended up in this absolute mess of a bedroom – owned by none other than your close friend, Kwon Soonyoung. The same Kwon Soonyoung who also happens to TA the class you've put off taking for the last two years, and are set to start taking the upcoming spring semester.

The same Kwon Soonyoung that was related to the wife of the Dean, and the same Kwon Soonyoung that showed up everywhere stoned or ready to get stoned. The very same Kwon Soonyoung that made infused pre-rolls and edibles for nearly the entire campus…for free. Even you could see that was a horrible business call, and you were a Science major.

Soonyoung who helped people sneak kittens into their dorm rooms and make homes for them under lofted beds. Soonyoung, who taught a dance class and self-defense class back to back, so he was never free until after nine at night. Soonyoung who made hanging out seem like he was trying to get into your pants because he was just naturally flirtatious (and somehow, still absolutely bitchless.)

Soonyoung who you've kissed twice since meeting him two years ago, both times at Halloween parties hosted by his stupid fraternity. Soonyoung, who has had his hand up your skirt twice before someone interrupts you by asking if he has any weed at hand. He always does, and it's always in his car or his bedroom. He always goes, and a part of you, no matter how into it you may be, knows it's for the best. He keeps his circle small, of friends that is. You were added to the mix sometime after your first Halloween party (and first kiss together) your freshman year, when he slammed into you in the middle of the economics hallway, breaking your laptop in the process. He'd felt so bad he took you to Best Buy that same night and shelled out two grand for a new one and even invited you out to lunch the next day.

He did not remember making out at all. To be fair, neither did you until the digital photos came back and he texted you a picture of the two of you kissing against the Beta Tau insignia on the wall. You were so embarrassed you avoided him for a week after, but he quickly forced you out of your dorm for a movie night. The two of you became fast friends, bonding over silly little things and enjoying each other's company – but it didn't stop the rumors from flying that you were a freshman stealing a guy from the sophomores.

You remember that he adamantly denied any and every dating rumor flung your way, and even went as far as distancing himself from you for a bit – but when you tried to pull the same move he had earlier that year, he said maybe it was best for the two of you to remain friends from a distance. You didn't speak to him for the rest of the year, choosing to spend your time with friends your age and even dating a transfer student named Yuta Nakamoto, who was also in Soonyoung's year.

When word got around, Soonyoung was pissed – but didn't attempt to rekindle your friendship. He still followed you on Instagram, and still felt a bit of anger puddle in his stomach as he liked photo after photo of the two of you together, biting his tongue at the empty smile you held by his side.

This continued well into summer, and he saw the two of you take a trip to Jeju Island together, before breaking up the following week. Soonyoung heard from your friend, Nagyung, that he was transferring back and neither of you wanted to try long-distance.

The following school year, he watched as you got recruited by sorority after sorority – eventually joining his frat's sister sorority, Alpha Sigma Delta. You hardly had to rush, the girls actively pushing you to pledge and you were far too nice to say no.

You saw him again for the first time at the Halloween party planning, when you and your fellow pledges were tasked with helping the frat pledges in hauling in liquor. You weren't very happy about it, but Soonyoung whisked you away without a word from you, telling everyone that he needed your help with a certain task.

That task? "Can we talk?"

And you did. You talked, and talked, and talked. He even left at one point to get drinks for the two of you, returning to you fishing through his bag of pre-rolls for the ones infused with lemon balm. He smiled, telling you they were in his car, and you rolled your eyes at it.

You kissed at that party, too. It went further this time – the two of you on Seungcheol's balcony. The idea had been to go up to the roof and get crossed, but it seems a rather tipsy Soonyoung had other ideas. You didn't mind it, in fact you encouraged it – you slipped his hand up your latex dress, you let him slip your panties down your legs. "Hey, Hoshi! Do you have any pre-rolls?!"

Just as he'd started undoing his pants.

"Fuck, I'm sorry baby."

"It's fine."

You passed out in his bedroom that time, too tired to go back to the sorority house with your sisters. You got out of clean-up, and Soonyoung left you a kimbap roll and an electrolyte drink on his nightstand, with a note asking how you got there 'haha.'

It hadn't been fine. Again, neither of you remembered this happening until digitals were printed. And it was freshman year all over again – except this time, Soonyoung stuck around. Soonyoung defended you tooth and nail, and even dropped a few of his friends that bad-mouthed you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged, "Nothing wrong with kissing your friends every once in a while." So, here you are. Again.

The third year in a row you and your stupid friend have made out, and somehow, you're in his bed. There's no other explanation as for why your underwear is across the room, hanging off his lamp and why his head is gently laying on your chest. There's literally no other explanation.

"Soonyoung." You rasp, patting his cheek. He doesn't stir, but pouts into your bare breast. "Soonyoung." You speak louder, shaking him slightly as he peels open one of his eyes.

"Yeah?" It takes him a moment to realize that it's you, sprinkled with glitter from his eye look last night and practically doused in his saliva.

"Oh, fuck." He just furrows his brows, rolling off your chest with a groan. He sits up at the edge of the bed, surveying the room before realizing he's got no pants on. "Son of a bitch. Did we…Yup. Yup, it's right there." His painted fingernails point at the discarded condom atop his dresser, flung hastily in a half-asleep attempt, most likely. You sigh, letting your head fall back on your pillow with a hmph. He does the same, his fingers only reaching up slightly to close the blinds with a jerk of the liftcord.

"You think it was good?" You ask with a small smile, and he snorts. "It was with you, I doubt it would've been bad."

Silence permeates the air again, before he sees your bare bottom half also covered in glitter. You have a tattoo on your hip that you didn't have when you first met. It's a stick-and-poke kitten. "Nice tattoo." "Thanks, I got it on Jeju Island." "When you and Yuta went?" "Yup." "Cool." He sits up, peering down at you with tired eyes. "What'd you see in that guy, anyway?"

"Hm?" "Yuta." "Oh. You want the truth?" It's like being nude in front of each other isn't a big deal. It's like having slept together after years of being in limbo means nothing. It's all so normal, the way you allow him to practically eye fuck you.

"I was sad you stopped being my friend." He blinks at you, watching the way you carefully pick at a thread loose in his comforter. You pull it out, discarding it behind you with a soft smile. "Does that answer your question?" "You fucked another guy because I stopped being your friend?" He asks incredulously, and you shrug. "Not just, but it was a large reason."

"You lost your virginity to him." His eyes are wide, and you shrug once more, nodding your head. "Yup." "Did he make you cum?" "Soonyoung-" "Did he?"

You sigh, patting his comforter. "Not the first couple of times, no. He got better at it, though. It was decent."

Nodding, he clears his throat.

"Do you think I-" "Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much, just the Pink Whitney Mingyu gave me." "Mingyu does love his Pink Whitney." You flip onto your back again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Tucking your hands behind your head, you speak again. "Do you think I went down on you?" "There's lipstick on my tip." "What color?" "Uhh…wine red." You wipe a finger across your bottom lip, the small amount of residue a bloody, Cabernet red. "Hm. Checks out."

The air feels…comfortable.

"Wanna shower?" "Yeah." "Can I shower with you?" "Yeah, Soonie."

The two of you stretch simultaneously, before rolling to the side of the bed and standing up. He grabs the discarded condom off the dresser, holding it like a used tissue and taking it to the bin. You dig through his dresser for a towel, and he fishes out something for you to wear.

"Boxers okay?" "Hm, I prefer briefs." "On me or on you?" "Your underwear choices are your business." He holds up a pair of Spiderman briefs. You bite back your laugh and nod silently, extending your hand for them.

He disappears into his bathroom, flickering lights on and turning the shower head on. "Hot?" "Boiling." "Got it."

The both of you get in, and you close your eyes as the water pelts your back. Soonyoung says nothing as he moves your hair off your shoulders and away from your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You should've asked me." He mumbles, reaching for the shampoo in the caddy behind you. Peeling your eyes open, you look up at him with a confused stare. "Asked you for what?" He shrugs, holding the shampoo bottle upside down over his hand and squirting some out. "I would've made you cum the first time." You snort, shoving his chest lightly. "Yeah, well…you didn't. It's fine." "This isn't weird to you?" "What? Showering together?" "After fucking, yeah." "Could be worse." "How?" "I could be that girl you've been flirting with since last year, wondering when you're going to text her back." "Who? Yujin?" "Yeah." "I'm not flirting with her, what made you think that?" "Stolen glances, flirty touches, you give her pre-rolls all the time." He rolls his eyes as he cards his fingers through your hair, his dull nails scrubbing your scalp gently. Your eyes flutter shut, and he huffs. "I give everyone pre-rolls." "Because you're a horrible business magnate."

"No, because I'm nice." You smile without opening your eyes, your hands reaching out to touch his chest. His body feels good under your fingertips, you realize. "Are you mad you don't remember any of it?" "Furious." He mutters, gently tilting your head back to wash the soap out. You can't see the way he's looking at the sweet slope of your neck, just barely making out small nips of his teeth across your throat. Your necklace hangs nicely. The rest of the shower remains silent, as he carefully washes you before himself. His attention to detail is insane, the way his fingers hold the washcloth taut so he can feel every inch of you. He has to commit this to memory.

After, you're drying your hair with a random t-shirt he gave you. He remembers you told him that towels can be too rough for your hair texture sometimes. It's only when you're brushing your teeth with a brand new toothbrush he pulled from his cabinets that he speaks. "Let me change my bedsheets." "Don't wanna lay in the sin of fucking your friend, do ya?" The navy blue sheets are quickly replaced by ones with light grey ditsy floral print, and his comforter is shoved off and replaced by a few throw blankets. He watches as you change his pillowcases, only looking away when he hears his phone ping.

Msg From: Cheol [9:32am] hosh [9:32am] who is the girl in ur room and is she missing a pair of cat ears

"What was your costume last night?" He asks, and you snort. "I was a sexy witch." He smiles to himself as he picks up his phone.

Msg To: Cheol [9:33am] not missing a pair of cat ears [9:34am] and it's y/n

Your head snaps up when you hear a pair of feet thundering up the stairs, followed by silence. You give him an odd look, only to hear excited giggles down the hall and the pitter-patter of two adult men coming towards Soonyoung's room. You cross your arms as you hear the door creak open, an expectant look on your face as Jeonghan and Seungcheol's noses appear through the crack. "Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Jeonghan remarks sweetly, and you just roll your eyes.

"He wasn't bluffing." He whispers to Seungcheol, receiving an annoyed huff from Soonyoung. "If you're done intruding on my personal business, I'd appreciate it if you left. The pledges still need to clean up last night's mess." Jeonghan gives you a wry look. "Can I say something and you don't get upset?" "If it's about sex, I will punch you in that pretty face of yours." You say pointedly, fluffing the pillow in your hand before throwing it onto his bed. Jeonghan purses his lips, nodding before sliding out from under Seungcheol. He nods his head, a satisfied look on his face. "Have a good…don't fuck too loud, okay?" Soonyoung barely misses Seungcheol's face with the charger he throws across the room, his giggle being heard in the hallway as he barrels down the stairs.

"Idiots." He huffs, running a hand through his damp hair as you flop onto the bed. "You don't mind if I stay here a bit? My head's killing me."

He lays down next to you, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You okay, Soonie?" Turning only his head, he scans your face. Tired eyes lined with thick lashes, plump lips covered by the Aquaphor in his bathroom. Slightly unkempt brows and your shoulder tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt on your frame.

"Kitty?" You grimace at the pet name, one he christened you with when the two of you met. He'd been dressed up as a cowboy, and dancing with a skeleton that was stolen from the comparative anatomy students (with the help of Junhui, of course.) He also had a lit joint between his fingers, one that sprinkled ash over your newly healed shoulder tattoo and made you yelp in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, kitty." He quickly put it out in a nearby ashtray, dusting your shoulder of any ash residue. "It's fine, it's fine. Just…can I get a hit?"

"Yeah?" He sits up, leaning against his bed frame before looking down at you. "Would it be weird if I asked to try again?"

You glance up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Try what again, exactly?"

He clears his throat, a beet red blush coating his cheeks. "You said Yuta didn't make you cum. And we don't know if I made you cum. So…can I have a redemption round?"

You've sat up at this point, a small laugh falling from your lips as you push your hair back, "You want to fuck me?"

"I can just go down on you, if, uh…if that's what you'd prefer." He stutters, mentally cursing himself. You glance at him, eyes scanning his face. "And we're still friends after this? You won't dump me?"

"I won't. I promise. Cross my heart, kitty." He holds his pinky finger out, insinuating you link yours. Sighing, you do just that. "Fine. Hop to, I want breakfast."

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