#or something. maybe it has no meaning. you decide

[pucksandpower]

A Royal Surprise

Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader

Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England … oops?

One of Red Bull Racing’s PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. It’s a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslie’s eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.

“The balance felt off in turn three during the sim,” Max says, leaning back in his chair. “We might need to adjust the downforce.”

Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.

But then, Max casually adds, “Oh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriend’s coming to watch the race.”

Leslie’s pen stills. There’s something in Max’s tone that makes her look up sharply.

“Girlfriend?” Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a few months now. We’ve been keeping it quiet.”

Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. “Anyone we know?” She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.

Max’s grin widens. “You could say that. It’s Y/N.”

The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...”

“The Princess of Wales, yeah,” Max confirms, as if he’s just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.

Leslie’s notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence that’s fallen over the room.

“Max,” Christian says slowly, “are you telling us that you’re dating the future Queen of England?”

Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone who’s just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. “That’s right.”

Leslie’s mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I need to make some calls,” she says weakly.

But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. “Wait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?”

“About six months,” Max replies. “We met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.”

Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. “Six months,” she mutters. “You’ve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and we’re just finding out now?”

Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “We wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.”

Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. “Max,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...”

“It’s all been taken care of,” Max assures her. “The palace has been very discreet.”

Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. “The palace. Of course. Because now we’re dealing with actual palaces.”

Christian clears his throat. “Right. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think we’re going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?”

Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.

As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. “Leslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Leslie takes a deep breath. “Max, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?”

Max chuckles. “Sorry about that. If it helps, you’re handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.”

“Oh God,” Leslie groans. “I’m going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, aren’t I?”

“They’re actually pretty cool,” Max says. “A bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.”

Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?”

For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated “chance” meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.

“And you’re sure about this?” Leslie asks finally. “Dating her ... it’s not exactly going to be easy for you.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know. But she’s worth it. We’re worth it.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It can’t be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.

“Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“No more bombshells, okay? My heart can’t take it.”

Max grins. “Well, actually ...”

Leslie’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? What is it now?”

“Her father ... he’s a big F1 fan. He’s been hinting that he’d like to attend a race.”

The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Max’s concerned voice saying, “Leslie? Leslie, are you okay?”

When Leslie comes to, she’s lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Christian says, relief evident in his voice. “You gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.”

Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. “Please tell me I dreamed all of that,” she mutters.

Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, it’s all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?”

Leslie waves him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Just ... processing.” She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. “Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.”

Christian nods. “Good idea. What are you thinking?”

Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. “We need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... ‘Red Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.’”

Max frowns. “Isn’t that a bit ... formal?”

Leslie sighs. “Max, you’re dating the future Queen of England. Everything’s going to be a bit formal from now on.”

“She hates that, you know,” Max says softly. “All the formality. It’s why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.”

Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Max’s voice. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

Max nods. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When I’m with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. She’s just ... her.”

Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. “That’s all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.”

Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.”

“Hey,” Max says, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.”

As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie can’t help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Max’s face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger — and more romantic — than fiction.

“Oh, and Leslie?” Max adds as they’re wrapping up. “About the King wanting to attend a race ...”

Leslie holds up a hand. “One crisis at a time, Max. Let’s get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?”

Max grins. “Fair enough. But just so you know, he’s particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be ‘jolly good fun’ to present the trophies.”

Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. “Max, I swear, if you’re joking ...”

“Would I joke about something like this?” Max asks innocently.

Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. “I’m going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.”

Christian chuckles. “I think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. It’s going to be an interesting ride.”

As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind that’s about to engulf them all, she can’t help but smile slightly. It’s going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.

After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale?

[feathers-fins-and-fangs]

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to? I consider myself therian and fictionkin.

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any) I am a turkish angora (breed of felis catus/domestic cat), Vancouver coastal sea wolf, jackdaw and orca, as well as Applejack from My Little Pony FiM and Mercutio from the 2010 revival cast of the musical Romeo et Juliette: les enfants de Vérone.

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)? Yes, I mainly experience phantom shifts and sensory shifts. I often feel cat ears on my head or wings on my back, and sometimes a hat due to my fictotype. My weirdest cameo shift was probably two or so years ago when I had a phantom shift of having an extremely long, snake-like body. I thought I was snakekin at first but after a few months I realised I'm actually snake otherhearted and it was just a cameo shift.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life? Usually it isn't a big part of my day to day life, and I only actively engage in my alterhumanity when I'm at home online, or with my neighbour (who is also alterhuman). It's mostly just pushed to the back of my mind because I have more important things to worry about lately.

5/ What do you think of the community? It depends on which platform's community I am interacting with. For example, I used to be part of the Reddit alterhuman community until I was severely bullied for being a polytherian with more than 2 theriotypes and quit Reddit forever (No joke, that one user wrote two entire damn essays and even went to my profile to diss me for being queer as well) That community was horrible, on the same level as the TikTok community, maybe even worse. However, the Tumblr community has been the most inviting and accepting community I have ever been in. Physical alterhumans, niche otherkins, anything and everything is welcomed openly (for the most part. As long as you ignore the trolls and the rare less accepting users).

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity? For my therianthropy, connecting with nature. Going for walks, road trips, enjoying the scenery, the smell of rain, etc etc. In relation to my fictotypes, engaging with my source and creating art/videos based off my source (I love being an artist. I can draw myself!!)

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria? I used to experience it more severely than now. Nowadays I'm pretty chill, aside from the occasional 'damn why is my face so flat this is so wrong'

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened? Gear does not mean you are alterhuman, and not wearing gear doesn't mean you are faking it. Not all people who wear gear are alterhuman, and not all alterhumans wear gear. You can wear gear, you can not wear gear, you can do whatever you wish. If it makes you happy, do it. It's okay to kinfirm something and then decide it's not right later on. It does not mean you were faking it. It was just a step in you discovering your identity. Even if you decide you're not alterhuman after all, that's perfectly fine too!

9/ Do you have/want to have gears? I own multiple ear headbands, as well as a half-finished mask and tail, but I never wear anything other than one ear headband on rare occasions.

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate) I believe some of my kintypes originate from past lives, such as my cat, wolf and both fictotypes. My other two theriotypes are psychological in origin, though I don't have any specific details.

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summery: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[beabnormal24]

Your dog ~ carcar, angst

Piñon still bites him when he sees him. He's a distrustful dog, Oscar has learned.

He doesn't like it when Oscar sits on the left side of the couch, pushes his nose against his calf until he's shuffling to the right. He doesn't sit on that side either, though, and curls up under his feet.

He doesn't like it when Oscar looks at the coats hanging nearby the entrance, he doesn't like it when Oscar puts his hand in the biscuits jar, he doesn't like it when Oscar uses the body-wash in the shower and smells of musky pinecones.

He doesn't like a whole lot of things that Oscar does, truthfully, and even though he does try not to show it, sometimes it really hits close to home, where it already hurts the most.

And yet, he still gets up at eight sharp in the morning to take him out for a walk.

They stroll on the sidewalk for ten minutes, already with the easiness of a routine that doesn't feel like it belongs to him fully yet, and Oscar can almost say with certainty that it doesn't feel that gross to grab his poop from the ground.

Every morning they walk past a local bakery, just on the right side of the parallel road, and every single morning Piñon starts barking, perhaps out of familiarity, perhaps just out of curiosity, his vision zeroing on the bright yellow of the signs.

Oscar... he would rather not walk in, honestly. It's not even about avoiding falling into temptation, the smell of fresh baked goods always seeming to make his empty stomach grumble like a full engine.

It's more about the way the people around him seem to advert their gaze for a short second before actually meeting his eyes, it's about the way the woman behind the counter sharpens her grimace into a somewhat welcoming smile, as if all of a sudden she's not angry anymore at Oscar for only knowing how to utter a bunch of words in broken Spanish.

Even worse, though, it's the way they always sit on their calves and pat Piñon's head with a familiarity that Oscar is almost jealous of.

He may not understand a lot of the language, but still it's easy to make out the grand scheme of it all, how they sneak treats under the dog's mouth, how they whisper close to his ear.

"Has he been treating you good? How are you doing? How is him?"

Piñon never answers, and maybe that's exactly the reason why Oscar decided to take care of him.

When it came to deciding what should go to whom, he had almost fought tooth and nails to insist he would be the one getting the dog, in ways that he would probably be immensely embarrassed of if he thought about it now, lucid and the wound of it all less open and fresh.

But when Piñon tilts his head there's always the memory of something that tickles the back of Oscar's head, something that he's not exactly ready to let go of completely.

And when Oscar just needs to talk without the feeling of judgment and guilt clouding over him, Piñon just nudges his nose against his calf and sits at his feet and leaves him the benefit of self criticism that sometimes Oscar forgets he still has.

And other times, even, he looks up at Oscar with big brown eyes that hold a distant sentiment that Oscar can't face just yet.

He has read, somewhere in the middle of a late night binge search on how to get rid of it all as fast possible, that dogs are able to talk to spirits.

Oscar doesn't exactly believe it. Though it is true that Oscar doesn't believe in a lot of things that don't lie in the same Venn's diagram of a throttle and a brake.

He still doesn't know if he should believe in God or if it's God who should believe more in them, give them a bit more credit for all the things some people have to go through without even asking for them.

And Oscar also sincerely hopes Carlos has not gone and become a spirit, because that would imply that even the last shred of hope has to quietly die like a burnt candle.

Because that would mean Oscar would have to live the rest of his life looking for a metaphysical appearance that he knows will never come, that he would have to feel haunted, even.

And it's ridiculous to even think about believing in something like that, and yet at two in the morning on a Thursday night Oscar thinks that there can't be any damage to do if he just lets himself be ridiculous for a little while.

The corridor is bathed in moonlight when he walks through it, but Oscar still finds some difficulty in making his way through the rooms, leaning against the wall with a hand as he feels the quiet thrum of an empty house surrounding him.

He is careful with his steps as he reaches Piñon, sleeping soundly at the entrance where he had dragged his own bed a few days ago.

He thinks about it for a second, then two, watches little puff of air heaving Pinon's chest, his head resting on crossed paws, turned towards the door as if it could open from a second to another. Waiting.

He doesn't think about it more than three seconds, because Oscar has never had the privilege to make decisions in longer than that, so he kneels on the ground, passing a gentle hand through the longer fur on Piñon's back before ducking his head and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Piñon doesn't wake up, just scrunches his nose for a second before his breaths even out again, same rhythm as before, as if trying to fall back into a routine that doesn't quite fit right.

The sofa is soft under his legs when he sits on it, careful to not disrupt the untold equilibrium as he presses his feet to the left armrest and leans his chin over his bent knees. He is not going to sleep anytime soon, either way.

"I gave a kiss to your dog." Oscar chuckles, lets himself feel ridiculous for just a second before relaxing against the back of the couch. "I did it when he was asleep. He would've killed me if I had tried to do it when he was awake."

The only answer he gets is the eerily quiet and the muffled sounds of Piñon's breathing.

For the first time since he can remember, Oscar wishes there could be another voice coming from the right side of the couch.

"I think he doesn't like me a lot, you know? Sometimes it's like he wants to blame me and I- I get it, I want to blame myself, too." A knot rises in the middle of his throat, tight and uncomfortable. Oscar still talks past it. "But he is the closest thing to you that I could get, the closest thing that is alive and well. And when he glares at me he- he almost reminds me of you which is ridiculous because I can't even remember the last time you were actually angry at me but I think it's better for me to remember you that way than..."

He rubs a hand under his eyes, pretends like he can't feel the sudden wetness on the sleeves of his hoodie. He doesn't even think it's his own.

He doesn't even remember when the division line started to blur.

"I think that's what you would want me to do, if you could say it."

Lando hadn't been of the same opinion, looking at Oscar warily when he had suggested he would be the one taking Piñon for the first time. Now, he just looks at Oscar with his downturned eyes and tells him he wishes he could do more to help him.

Oscar doesn't think there's more to do, anyway.

"I read somewhere that dogs talk to spirits. I think it's the kind of shit you would yell at Lando for believing in it. You always d- do that." He caresses his own knees, seeking the comfort of a warm touch in his own coldness. "And trust me, I hope you are not a fucking spirit and that you won’t become one anytime soon. But if there is even a small- small possibility, I-" he closes his eyes for a second, lets the knot in his throat dissolve like salt in water, stinging on an open wound, where pulsing blood is still rushing to trail on his skin.

"If there is even a single possibility of it being true I- I gave him a kiss and I hope he can bring it to you. And then he can come back home if- I hope he thinks this is still home, even without-“

The light blue colour of the sleeves has tuned into a darker patch under his eyes, blurry from a lucidity that he can't make himself feel ashamed of.

As if on cue, the silence is broken by the ticking sound of Piñon's paws on the hardened wood floor. When Oscar manages to open his eyes again without wishing to disappear into the dark blue void outside the window, Piñon is looking up at him, curled under his feet with his head close to Oscar's shin.

The dog sighs, a shaky thing that sounds almost like a rumble and Oscar can only answer with a choked sob of his own that doesn't feel like it belongs to him at all, to his vocal cords that always found no use in crying.

Many things can change in the span of a few weeks: Oscar's beliefs and a dog's routine.

"But I- I think," he swallows around nothing, bending down to press a hand to the top of Piñon's head, caressing lightly. "We are not so different, me and Piñon."

The dog sighs again, almost sad. Oscar wonders if he is listening to what he is saying, if he can actually understand it all. Will he bring a kiss from him, then?

"We both miss you the most when the night comes."

—

This little story is heavily inspired by the song “your dog” by Pinguini Tattici Nucleari

[reiding-writing]

For the Christmas fic, how about bau!reader never celebrated Christmas properly cause she had like bad parents so Spencer decides to change that with the help of the team

RESTORATION — SPENCER REID!

you’re not a big fan of christmas. spencer enlists the help of the team to try and restore your festive spirit.

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — watch someone who doesn’t like Christmas, write about a group of people who do like christmas :)

You’re not sure how it happened, but suddenly, Christmas is everywhere.

Twinkling lights hang from every corner of the bullpen. Garlands wrap themselves around the stair railings like ivy. A Christmas tree towers near the kitchenette, its branches heavy with ornaments you suspect Morgan and Garcia argued over before agreeing on a theme. The air smells faintly of pine, cinnamon, and coffee, a warm combination that feels almost too comforting. Too safe.

You try not to let it bother you.

You never understood the hype around Christmas. Every year, you watched the world transform into a wonderland of twinkling lights and festivity, but for you, it was just another day. Another reminder of what you never had.

While other kids were unwrapping presents under the tree, you sat in your cold, quiet room, the sounds of your parents’ arguments drowning out the holiday cheer. Christmas wasn’t a celebration in your house—it was a chore, a duty, something to get through without breaking.

Even now, as an adult, you treat the holiday like it’s just another box to check. The gifts you give are practical and impersonal, and the ones you receive feel more like obligations than thoughtful gestures. You avoid the parties, the caroling, the incessant cheer. It’s easier that way.

At least, it was.

The BAU changed everything.

You weren’t prepared for how much they’d come to mean to you. They weren’t just colleagues; they were family in a way you’d never truly known. And Spencer… Spencer Reid is something else entirely. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment your feelings for him shifted, but now they’re impossible to ignore. Every shy smile, every ramble about quantum physics, every thoughtful gesture—it all leaves you wondering how you got so lucky to have someone like him in your corner.

Still, when he asks you about your Christmas plans during lunch one day, your walls go up.

“Oh, you know,” you say casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Probably just a quiet night at home.”

Spencer frowns, his brow furrowing in that endearing way that tells you he’s already analysing your words. “You’re not a Christmas person?”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent. “Not really. Christmas wasn’t… something my parents did growing up,”

That’s the understatement of the century, but you don’t elaborate. Spencer’s gaze lingers on you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Well,” he says slowly, “maybe it’s something we can work on,”

You wave him off with a chuckle, but the idea takes root in his mind anyway.

—

A week later, you’re finishing up paperwork when Spencer approaches your desk, his face lit up with excitement.

“Are you free on Christmas Eve?” he asks, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You blink, caught off guard. “I guess so? Why?”

He grins, his hands fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. “It’s a surprise. Just… trust me?”

You don’t have the heart to say no.

—

When Christmas Eve arrives, you find yourself in front of Spencer’s apartment, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling in your chest. You’re not sure what to expect, but the last thing you anticipate is the sight that greets you when he opens the door.

“Surprise!”

The entire team is there, the living room transformed into a Christmas wonderland. There’s a fake tree in the corner, its branches laden with ornaments and lights. Garland and tinsel drape over every surface, and the scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air.

Hotch is standing by the fireplace, looking uncharacteristically relaxed with a drink in hand, JJ and Will are helping Henry hang a candy cane on the tree, Garcia flits around in a sequinned Santa hat, arranging plates of cookies and snacks, and even Rossi is there, holding a glass of wine and smirking like he knows exactly how overwhelmed you’re feeling.

And then there’s Spencer, standing in front of you with that nervous, hopeful look that makes your heart ache.

“You did this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “We did. You’ve never had a proper Christmas, and we thought it was time to change that.”

You look around, your chest tightening as the weight of their thoughtfulness sinks in. For a moment, you can’t speak.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” you finally manage, though your voice trembles.

“We wanted to,” JJ says, stepping over to hug you. “You’re family, and family deserves to be celebrated.”

The word family hits you like a freight train.

—

The night unfolds like something out of a movie.

You start with decorating gingerbread houses, a task that quickly descends into chaos when Garcia insists on bedazzling her roof with edible glitter. Morgan competes with Henry to see who can build the tallest chimney, while Rossi critiques everyone’s technique like it’s a cooking competition.

Spencer sticks close to you, guiding you through the process with his usual patience and a surprising knack for icing details. At one point, he accidentally smudges frosting on his nose, and the way he blushes when you laugh makes your stomach flutter.

Next comes dinner, a feast that Rossi and JJ clearly poured their hearts into. You sit between Spencer and Garcia, listening to Rossi’s stories and laughing until your cheeks hurt. Every now and then, you catch Spencer sneaking glances at you, his expression soft and fond in a way that makes you feel seen in a way you’re not used to.

Afterward, Garcia insists on a gift exchange. You’re hesitant at first, but when you open your gift from her—a beautifully wrapped box of handmade bookmarks featuring your favorite literary quotes—you can’t help but smile.

“How did you…?”

“I have my ways,” she says with a wink.

You’re equally stunned when Spencer hands you a small, carefully wrapped package. Inside is an antique copy of *Pride and Prejudice*, its leather cover worn but lovingly preserved.

“Spencer,” you whisper, running your fingers over the embossed title. “This is… it’s perfect.”

He shrugs, looking almost shy. “I remember you mentioned it was your favorite. I thought it deserved a spot in your collection.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you’re sure you’re going to cry.

—

The night ends with everyone gathered around the fireplace, mugs of hot cocoa in hand as Jack preforms his reading of The Night Before Christmas.

You sit beside Spencer on the couch, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper little facts about the poem’s history. Normally, you’d roll your eyes at his need to share trivia, but tonight, it feels comforting. Familiar.

When the others start to leave, bidding you Merry Christmas with hugs and warm smiles, you linger by the door, hesitant to let the night end.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, his voice soft.

You nod, but the lump in your throat betrays you. “I just… I don’t know how to thank you for this. All of you.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” he says, his gaze steady. “You deserve it.”

The words are simple, but they cut through you in a way you don’t expect. Before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.

He freezes for a moment, clearly surprised, but then he relaxes, his arms coming up to hold you in return.

His cheek smushes lovingly against the top of your head, and it’s only once he catches the glimpse of white and green above the doorway that he pulls away.

Mistletoe. How cliché.

Spencer lets out a breath of a laugh as you follow his gaze with curious eyes, cheeks warming at the fluster on your face.

“Garcia must’ve put that there…”

You press your lips together between your teeth, a wave of heat rising to the tips of your ears as you glance back in Spencer’s direction.

But you’re not nervous. It’s almost domestic, the soft crackle of the dying fire across the room, the way Spencer’s arms linger innocently at your waist.

You cup Spencer’s cheek to bring it to your face, lips pressing deftly against the corner of his mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer,” you whisper like you’ve run out of oxygen.

He smiles with his whole face, his voice warm and full of meaning. “Merry Christmas,”

[mossygirl333]

bakery order if you please! <3

logan howlett - chocolate mousse, scotch sour, & tea; along with edging/orgasm denial which isn’t listed (or if it is i missed it and that’s my bad)

reader has been teasing logan for far too long- wearing skimpy outfits when he’s around, brushing up against him, giving him doe eyes she knows he can’t resist- so he decides it’s time to return the favor

AN: ofc!! thank you so much for the request Anon!

Logan Howlette x f!reader

Bakery Order: Chocolate Mousse- "You look pretty fucked dumb." + Scotch Sour- Degration + Tea- Sub reader

Tw/Cw: DUBCON, edging/orgasm denial, teasing, lots of foreplay, degradation, panty stealing, pervert!Logan, Old man!Logan, unprotected p in v, spanking

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!

'stupid stupid girl'.

It was all Logan could think of when he saw you. Dainty outfits, thin material, meant to show off as much skin as possible without being straight up lingerie.

You'd bend across his desk to talk to him about the newest assignment, squishing your boobs together, trying to get them into his face. A pretty pout on your lips and wide innocent doe eyes staring down at him.

He knew exactly what you were doing. And as much as he loathed it, the act was working. Grunts and groans of filth leaving his mouth as he jerked off furiously in his empty office.

Peering across the dining room, watching you drop something and bend over, showing off the plump fat of your ass and lacy white panties. A lustful gaze locked onto his, sliding your hands up your thighs when you pop up. Looking back to see if it worked.

Running up to him in the winter time, giggling about it being cold and rubbing your hands across his muscular chest. Pushing your plump tits against him.

Maybe he was doing the same, it just became something he would do. Rub his half-hard cock through his jeans when you spoke, spreading his muscular thighs to show you how big he was. Walking around in just his boxers when he knew the two of you were the only ones out.

He stole your panties out of the laundry a few too many times. His sharp nose could pick up which one was yours. And yes, he did jerk off with them. Pressed up against his nose, rubbing against his leaky tip and finishing into the fabric.

"Accidentally" discarding them in your room when you were out. Leaving you confused and utterly aroused at the cumstained underwear left half-under your bed.

Eventually it came to be too much. Too overwhelmed by your "innocent" displays and downright filthy actions. He knew what you wanted and he was going to give it to you.

Cornering you in his office, you practically folded like a lawn chair. Kneeling down as his rough cock bruised your throat, gagging as tears stream down your face. Muffling and moaning around the thick girthy shaft. Swallowing down his cum with a cough.

Shoving you into the couch, hiking up your skimpy little skirt. No underwear, just how he expected you to be. Filth leaving his mouth, degrading and mean. Your lip trembles as he rammed into you, practically rearranging your guts.

Holding onto the sofa for dear life, his happy trail scratching across your ass, rubbing it raw. Loud moans and whines leaving your lips, drooling all over your smushed together tits.

"Such a dumb little whore huh? Look so pretty fucked dumb, drooling all over those fat tits."

You beg to finish, clit throbbing, but he refuses. "You cant cum yet slut, you gotta take care of me first~"

His girthy cock hitting all the spots except the ones you want, brushing against your little bundle of nerves but not enough to truly get anywhere. Tears of frustration and overwhelm filling your eyes and spilling over your plump cheeks.

He finishes, twice, before you can cum once. Leaving you a twitchy, shaking mess of semen and slick. Thighs quaking and trembling, cramping up as he lays you down. Giving a soft slap to your ass.

[konpeitonom]

first time with college grant curly.

nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader—

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; college curly back in my head again.. sorry if this is short. i did like half a few days ago and just needed to finish it up now. i accidentally deleted the ask to this i am so so sorry anon out there..

nsfw under the cut! minors do not read

— he would wait for you to suggest it. he doesn’t want you to feel pressured to do so. maybe he’d bring the topic up as a way for you to sort of.. tell him how you feel on it? your comfort comes first.

— when the time comes though, he’s all romantic about it. he wants to give a good impression, wants you to want it as much as he does. maybe you guys are out on a little weekend trip, or jimmy decides to go for a few days. whatever it is, he wants you two to be alone.

— he’d tease you just a little on the undergarments you decide to wear.. like, “oh, picked this all out for me, yeah? that’s cute.” .. would laugh as you push his face away in embarrassment. he just can’t help but wanna poke fun at you, just a little! i’d ease any tension, for sure.

— would kiss you in just the right areas.. would ask over and over if you want this- if it’s too much, too little. it might seem overbearing but you’ll just have to push through it.

— he’d eat you out before fucking you. i think. it’s just really intimate for him. please grab at his hair, shove him further, push your thighs together, it encourages him.

— his foreplay is really good, exceptionally so. he likes the sight of you all soaked before he even puts his dick in, really, it gets him so hard.

— he’ll ask constantly if this is what you want, if he’s going too fast and such. he tries to be gentle but to be honest with himself, he’s a bit pent up.. he’s the kind of guy that once he starts even talking to a girl he likes, he’ll avoid stuff like hookups and one night stands..

— whispers sweet nothings, obviously. tells you how pretty you look, especially like that. that you’re doing so well, that he’s lucky to be able to do this with you.

— errrr read my nsfw alphabet, i think his dick is on the larger end. he’s aware of this and will let you decide if it’s something you can take well or not. he’ll be very gentle, promise!

— he’d stop being so lovey after the first round. i mean, he’s not going to be mean but he has been waiting for this. waiting to take you as his. and he hopes you’d be okay with that.

— “fuck, you can take it like this, right?” he’d ask.. as he’s literally splitting you open.

— he’d jerk off infront of you if you couldn’t take anymore.. his sex drive would probably be on the much higher end at this age. there’s something so erotic about it. he’d like to watch you play with yourself too!

— afterwards he’d make sure to reassure you that there’s no pressure to add sex as a regular thing in your relationship.. that he’s okay with it being a once in a while thing, despite how he acted.

— great aftercare! prepares a nice bath for you both. makes sure to have a conversation again with where you both stand. he doesn’t wanna mess things up.

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, stalking mention, cooties, wild subplot(s), loser enhypen, rickrolling, bad april fools pranks

word count: 3.62k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

“I’m gonna say it. Y/n has been getting on my nerves recently.”

Everyone snaps their necks to look at Riki like he’s just admitted to committing a crime.

“Excuse me?” Sunghoon is appalled. “That’s my friend!”

It’s been about a month since you and Sunghoon had begun his “girlducation” lessons (You named it, not him). And luckily he’s been faring well!

Everyone’s noticed how he’s more open and friendly, and just last week he was finally able to look his homeroom teacher in the eyes and have a full conversation (about how he’s failing Algebra 2).

Talking to his female classmates has gotten easier too. He can’t say much though, as he still gets nervous whenever the conversation gets too complex.

You’ve helped him make leaps and bounds regardless, and Sunghoon can proudly state you two are friends.

“Come on you guys, you know what I’m talking about,” Riki shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“No. We don’t. What did she do to you?” Jongseong raises a brow. Riki groans, rubbing his face.

“Yeah, there’s no need to be angry at her.” Heesung adds.

“This is exactly why! You guys like her more than me, I’m being replaced!” Riki throws his hands up in the air.

“Uh, no duh we like her more,” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “She’s nicer, funnier, and she’s prettier.”

Riki gasps. “I can be pretty!” He crosses his arms. “I’m prettier than you!” This time Sunoo gasps. “You can’t say shit to me cause do you got some guy stalking you because he thinks your idol material? I think not bitch!”

“Stalker? Sunoo! I thought you got rid of that guy?!” Jaeyun pauses, now the attention is turned towards the younger boy.

“He’s been on my ass recently, he even knows my order at my favorite cafe.” He shrugs as if this isn’t a concerning matter.

“Oh that’s not…” Sunghoon makes a face, eyeing the others.

“That stupid Belift guy is so persistent. It’s like he doesn’t take no for an answer.” Sunoo sighs. They all look at each other, skeptical. "I’ll walk home with you today Sunoo,” Jungwon decides.

“Speaking of stalkers,” Jongseong clears his throat, turning to Riki. “You’re banned from my house.”

“What?” Heeseung squeaks out in shock.

“Oh, so you liked my April Fool’s prank?” Riki grins, dodging Jongseong’s fists. “You went and switched my alarm clock forward! I was on my way to Jungwon’s at 5am this morning,” Jongseong grumbles.

As the others laugh and praise Riki for his joke, Sunghoon laughs the hardest. “Maybe you should keep your clock that way, you won’t ever have to worry about your mom nagging you to leave on time anymore.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

“How did you even do that?” Jaeyun laughs. Riki waves him off, smiling proudly. “Just asked his mom if I could come over to change it really quick while he was at baseball yesterday.”

“My mom was in on it?!” Jongseong looks betrayed. The boys soon make their way inside their school building.

“I totally forgot today was April Fool’s! I should’ve planned something,” Heeseung laughs, opening his locker.

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started, I’ve got something for all of you.” Riki sends them an ominous smile. “Heh, what do you mean?” Sunghoon tries to hide his fear with a smile.

“Nothing. Just think of today as karma for replacing me with Y/n,” Riki waves before he jogs down the hall, greeting his other friends.

“We never replaced you?!” Jungwon shouts at him, sounding worried. “Oh my god, I’m scared, what if I open my locker and there’s like a dead rat or something?” Sunoo whines.

“No, Riki’s not like that,” Heeseung shakes his head, before turning to the others. “Uh, right?”

“Last year he put ink on my glasses, so when I took them off I had lines all over my face and hands, no one said anything till lunch!” Sunghoon reminds the others.

“In middle school we shared a class, I fell asleep and he clipped a hair extension to the back of my head. No one told me I had a mullet until I got home and showered.” Jungwon recites, shuddering as his fingers ghost over the back of his neck.

“He gets bolder every year, and somehow he convinces people to help him. I think he’s bribing them somehow.” Jongseong concludes.

“What if I just skipped school today? Huh? Anyone wanna join me?” Jungwon tempts the others. “No! If I have to be here, so do you. Plus it’s unfair that only I got pranked so far.” Jongseong huffs.

“Don’t worry Heeseung,” Jaeyun comforts the oldest. “You’re new, Riki will probably go the easiest on you.”

Heeseung doesn’t look pleased by this. As his friends try to figure out a way they can prevent Riki’s chaos from unfolding, Sunghoon slinks off down the hall to a certain locker.

You stand with your back towards him, talking animatedly with your friend Taehyun. As Sunghoon approaches, he signals Taehyun to keep quiet with a finger to his mouth.

“Boo!” He grabs you by the shoulder, causing you to jump. “Ah! Sunghoon!” You huff, punching him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that!” You smile nonetheless.

“April Fool’s,” Sunghoon grins. You wave him off, your fingers grazing his own. He feels his ears heat up.

“I’m gonna get you later. You better watch out.” You warn him, but Sunghoon only smiles, shaking his head.

Suddenly, Taehyun clears his throat, reminding the two of you that you weren’t alone. “I’m gonna find Hyuka, see you later.” He waves to the both of you before departing.

But before he turns around, Taehyun sends you a wink, causing you to stiffen up.

“What was that?” Sunghoon asks, eyes trained on the back of Taehyun’s head. “Huh? Nothing, let’s get to class.” You cough, pushing Sunghoon down the hall.

“You remembered to do your slides, right?” You ask Sunghoon as you two sit down in your seats. “Yeah, it wasn't that hard.” He nods.

Your history class has just finished a project, and today everyone will be presenting. It was a solo project, but you and Sunghoon helped each other out.

“You’ll be okay talking up there by yourself?” You worry. Sunghoon feels special to know that you of all people care about him. A few days ago you’d voiced your concern to him about his fear or public speaking (around women).

“I think so, I usually just look at Jaeyun.” Sunghoon admits, shrugging.

“Well if you need to, you could look at me.” You suddenly suggest. Sunghoon feels the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. “O-Okay.” He nods, focusing on his desk.

Even after all his training, you somehow had a way with words that could cause Sunghoon to shut right up again.

Not just that, you still made him nervous, there were moments he found you too beautiful to even look in your direction.

Home room goes by like a breeze, and soon enough it’s time for history, and one by one students begin to present their topics in the front of class.

“Park Sunghoon.” Mr. Song calls out, and Sunghoon awkwardly stands up, grabbing his notes.

“Good luck!” You send him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Just that alone made him feel invincible.

With newfound confidence, Sunghoon strides to the front, pulling up his powerpoint on the history of soybeans. But when he turns to his fellow classmates, his ego disappears and he’s suddenly reminded of how many eyes were on him.

He begins to panic, his words stuck in his throat and his thoughts become sludge. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone was whispering.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Why is he taking so long?”

“Soybeans? That’s so boring.”

He can hear his teacher call out his name, asking him if he’s alright, but Sunghoon feels as if he’s been nailed to the ground, unable to move.

But as he focuses on his feet, he hears someone clear their throat loudly, his eyes shooting up.

You’re smiling. At him.

“You can do it!” You mouth, cheering him on. Suddenly it’s like he can breathe again. He can feel his body moving finally. All thanks to you of course.

“T-Today I’ll be talking about the history of soybeans in Korea.” Sunghoon announces suddenly, eyes trained on you.

You lean back into your seat, smile never disappearing as you listen intently.

“Where the hell is Riki?! I’m gonna kill him.” Jaeyun stomps over to the lunch table. Heeseung shrugs, mouth full of food.

“He’s not here, what happened?”

Jaeyun groans as he sits down, Sunghoon also taking his seat beside him. “He got Rickrolled.”

Jungwon snorts, choking on his food as he laughs. Jaeyun glares, picking at his lunch. “It’s not funny! He cost me my grade!”

“Pfft! Mr. Song docked you 10 points, you still have an A.” Sunghoon reminds him. The youngest of the bunch somehow got control of Jaeyun’s presentation, adding a bunch of memes into his slides.

“And ruined my 100 streak!” Jaeyun whines. “He won’t let me take any extra credit.” He sighs, letting his hunger take over as he shovels food into his face.

“Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!” Riki sings and dances as he arrives at their table. He’s grinning from ear to ear, all the while Jaeyun glares mid-chew.

“Come on Jaeyun!” Riki nudges him. “Sing it with me! Never gonna make you cry-” He’s cut off when Jaeyun lunges at him, catching the boy in a headlock. “Nev-never gonna tell- a lie- ack!” Riki coughs as he continues to sing under Jaeyun’s grip.

“Shut up!” Jaeyun angrily sneers, just as Riki wriggles out of his arms. “Dude,” Riki is breathless. “Put on some deodorant or something! I almost died.” He gags.

“I’m seriously going to kill-”

Jongseong slams down his hand onto the table, making everyone jump.

“Uh, you good?” Jungwon eyes him. Jongseong zeroes in on him, his eyes ablaze. “No I am not good, Yang Jungwon.”

“Uh oh, cat fight,” Sunoo snickers to Sunghoon, earning a chuckle.

“Did I do something?” Jungwon eyes the others, before realizing Jongseong was only looking at him. “What do you think, Yang?!”

Jongseong suddenly digs into his pants pocket, and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to the first year. Jungwon catches it with ease, unraveling it suspiciously.

“Oh my God.”

“What? What is it? Show me!” Sunoo snatches the paper, his eyes reading as fast as lightning before he lets out a yelp, covering his mouth as he gawks at Jungwon.

“You’re being dramatic,” Sunghoon finally grabs the paper, sharing it with Jaeyun as Heeseung leans over the table to peer.

The paper turns out to be a list, and it has various names on it, including Jongseong’s and Jungwon’s. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. That is until he reads the title.

“How could you go behind my back and run for Student Council?! You knew I was applying!” Jongseong shouts.

“I didn’t!” Jungwon holds his hands up in the air. “Dude I promise, I think there’s been a mistake, I never even applied to be nominated!”

Jongseong eyes him, but concedes, looking just as confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t not know you’re running- for Student Body President!”

“Yeah, and to think you’re only running for Treasurer,” Jaeyun jabs. He earns himself a kick to the shin from Jongseong.

Riki is the only one who laughs, though it lingers longer than it should have, prompting suspicion.

“What did you do?” Jungwon questions. The youngest is too busy hugging his sides as he cackles.

“Oh my God! I’m gonna piss myself, you should have seen your face!” Riki wheezes.

“Riki, what did you do?!” Jongseong demands. After a few minutes, the boy’s laughter subsides. “We nominated Jungwon cause he fell asleep in homeroom,” He giggles.

“What?! Riki be serious.”

“Okay,” Riki shrugs. “Technically, I nominated Jungwon, but then everyone else voted for him. I found out the announcements were the same day as April Fool’s and thought it’d be a sick prank.”

“Someone’s feeling sick alright, me, that’s who.” Jongseong sighs. Sunoo pats his arm out of sympathy.

“Jongseong, dude, no one’s gonna actually vote for Jungwon.” Riki scoffs. “What kind of idiot votes a first year as their president?”

“The same idiots who voted for him to be a nominee?” Heeseung reminds him. Riki pauses. “That’s beside the point! Don’t worry, this will all blow over when they see how incompetent he is.”

“Hey! I’m competent!” Jungwon huffs. “I just choose not to be!”

“Make that your slogan, and you might just lose!” Sunoo teases. Jungwon rolls his eyes, rubbing his face.

“Hey guys! I heard the great news, congratulations!” Your sweet voice brings sudden joy to Sunghoon as you greet them all.

“Y/n!” He suddenly shoves Jaeyun to the side to make space for you to sit, causing both him and Riki to topple over. He ignores their complaints as you squeeze yourself in right next to him.

You finally take a good look around the table once you’re settled in.

Sunoo mindlessly picks at his food, beside him Jungwon seems to be experiencing his first ever existential crisis. Jongseong has a vice grip on a very beaten up piece of paper and Heeseung is too busy eating to notice the tension as Jaeyun keeps muttering about his grades. And Riki is blatantly glaring daggers at you.

The only person who seems relatively happy is Sunghoon.

“You guys seem to be having a really, uh- interesting day so far.” You cough. “As if you know what it’s like to be interesting- Ow! Jaeyun elbowed me!” Riki tattles.

“And you deserve it.” Jongseong sneers.

“Tough crowd today,” You whisper to Sunghoon as the others begin to bicker. “Yeah, Riki’s been burning some bridges, lately” He nods.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” You eye the boy, who is in fact now glaring even harder. “No.” Sunghoon shakes his head, trying to remain calm as you lean closer to him. “Um, maybe actually? Yes. Yes you should.” He finally decides.

“Uh huh.” You nod warily. “Well anyways, I was just wondering how you guys plan to run your campaigns? I have some experience since I helped last year when Taehyun was Secretary, and now he’s running for Vice President.”

Jongseong sits up straight, putting on a presentable smile. “I plan on winning by showing my responsibility and care for the students here at EN-High.”

The table goes quiet.

“Was that AI? Sounded like something ChatGPT wrote,” Heeseung looks around. “What? No! I’m trying to sound professional.” Jongseong sighs.

“Well I plan to drop out, I didn’t even want to be nominated, but someone thinks it’s funny to prey on the innocent.” Jungwon stares right at Riki, who is busy scrolling through his phone uninterested.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it, can you blame me?” He shrugs. “Yes! Yes, I can!” Jungwon shouts.

“Okay, so it sounds like both of you are losing.” You mutter beneath your breath. “Look, word of advice: students really value honesty and the ability to be realistic. People like it when you tell the truth.” You explain.

“Didn’t Taehyun win last year because he did magic tricks instead of a speech?” Sunghoon frowns. “Oh! I remember him! He was so cool! How did he pull that chicken out of that hat?!” Heeseung asks excitedly.

“He did have a speech, he just did his magic tricks after.” You correct him. “Also it was a parrot, not a chicken.”

“What does magic have to do with being on the student council?” Sunoo asks, looking confused. “If I vote for Taehyun, can he magically fix my grade back to 100?” Jaeyun questions. “Do you think if I partner with Taehyun, I have a better chance of winning?” Jongseong turns to you.

You hold your hand up to silence them, before looking at each of them individually.

“Apparently more than you’d think.” You say to Sunoo, before shaking your head at Jaeyun. “No, just take the L.”

“And yes, but only if you’re okay with him doing the Sawing-In-Half trick on you during the debate.” You tell Jongseong, who looks pale now.

Before you can say any more, the warning bell rings, signaling lunch would be over in five minutes. “Alright, see you guys later,” You stand up, getting out of your seat. “Let me know if you need more advice.” You joke.

“I’ll see you in class?” Sunghoon asks, as if you two weren’t seatmates. You laugh, and teasingly pat his arm, causing his whole body to burn.

“Yeah, see you!” You wave, running off. He watches you as you return to your friends at your table across the cafeteria, his heart swelling.

“Oooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Sunoo suddenly giggles.

Sunghoon feels his stomach turn excitedly, his ears burning a bright red. “Shut up!” He mumbles, covering his face.

His friends begin to tease him, Sunghoon shakes his head furiously, though he peeks through his hands to glance at you once more.

When you laugh at something Kai says, he begins to wonder if his friends are on to something.

“Ta-da!”

You’re grinning as you flip your paper around to present to Sunghoon.

He looks up, blinks, then frowns.

“You like to eat stomachs?” He reads your calligraphy. “Huh? No, I like to eat pears.” You look at your paper yourself, confused.

Sunghoon begins to laugh, before standing up to walk around the table to your side. “You need to press down lightly on this character.” He instructs, leaning over you.

Instead of taking your brush like he usually did when he showed you the correct way, he grabbed your hand.

“L-Like this,” He stutters, leaning even closer to you as you allow him to guide you on the paper. Your hand is really small compared to his own, his fingers are almost half as long.

Your skin is soft and warm, he doesn't want to let go.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim, and he jumps back, releasing your hand.

“So that’s how you do it? Let me try again.” You begin to attempt again on your own. He watches over you as you try your best, all of your focus on your calligraphy.

He finds the way you scrunch your face up as you focus endearing, you’ve made a lot of progress.

Your reattempt is still not the best, but Sunghoon can admit this time he could actually read it. “You’re doing a lot better,” He says as he returns to his seat. “Really? I’ve been practicing at home,” You admit.

“You’ve been practicing?” Sunghoon repeats, surprised at your dedication. If he were being honest, he thought your interest in calligraphy was only confined to the old library.

“Yeah,” You smile, getting shy. “I want to show you my best.”

Oh.

The two of you keep eye contact as Sunghoon feels his face and ears begin to heat up. He was probably red all over from just that one compliment. Didn’t help that you looked gorgeous while staring at him.

“I-I think-uh- You’re doing a really good job so far.” He finally looks away, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Thank you.” You hum, smiling to yourself. “Oh, it’s already almost four, we should probably get going.” You say, and begin cleaning up.

The two of you quickly grab your stuff and sweep down the table before heading out.

Outside the sun is still bright, yet it’s lower in the sky than before. You both walk down the street, shoulder to shoulder. Every time you bump into each other, Sunghoon feels his heart race.

“Hey, want one?” You suddenly ask, opening your palm to reveal two pieces of creamy milk candy. The bright bunny logo catches his eye.

The idea of sharing candy with you is exhilarating to Sunghoon. Your sweet nature mimicked the sweetness of the candy awaiting before him.

“Thank you,” He smiles at you, letting his fingers graze your palm.

Together you two unwrap the candies, poppin them into your mouths. Sunghoon takes a bite and-

“What the fuck?!” You spit your candy back into its wrapper, face contorted in absolute disgust. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to do the same, gagging as he does so.

“This is a crayon!” Sunghoon grimaces, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Where the hell did you get these?!”

You shake your head, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, but to no avail. “I don’t- I don’t remember I just- Riki handed some to me, and-”

“Wait,” Sunghoon interrupts you. “Riki gave you these?”

You nod, first confused, then realizing what he meant. “Oh my god I’m so stupid.” You groan. “I should have known when he randomly apologized to me, he even suggested I share them with you!”

“He’s always one step ahead,” Sunghoon glares into the distance. “Ugh I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!” You spit.

“I swallowed a little, will I die?” He worries, voicing his concern. “I need water- juice, I need something!” You look around for a vending machine.

“There! A Family Mart!” Sunghoon points down the road. He turns to you with an eager expression, holding his hand out to you.

“Come on, let’s go!” He urges. You hurriedly grab his hand, and the two of you run down the street, groans of disgust soon turning into giggles of excitement.

Sunghoon's lesson he learned today was that he doesn’t mind holding your hand. In fact, he likes it.

He likes you.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024 | Log 5: Wednesday - May 15th, 2024

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[miwiheroes]

Mike Wheeler and his Promise

"It means something that you can't break. Ever."

A huge part of Mike Wheeler's hidden character arc is set up in season 1, episode 2 with this scene right here. It's pretty much the motivation behind many of his actions towards El and Will, can be a partial explanation for his internalised homophobia and explains why he seems like to have a saviour complex.

Narratively, promises are made to be broken. When writers decide to make a promise 'important' and emphasise that this promise cannot be broken, ever, it will always come back to bite that character in the ass. Promises are either made to be broken in stories like these, or they are made to make a character feel trapped. Promises are rarely ever used in a romantic fashion unless the character cannot keep their promise or they feel like they are forced to.

What makes it really seem like Mike and El are a doomed couple to me is that the writers chose Mike to say: Ever.

No word is misplaced in writing a script. There is no such thing as an unintentional line in Stranger Things tbh, and this word in particular means two things:

Mike will always keep his promises throughout time.

Mike will keep his promises no matter if circumstances change, no matter if his feelings change.

There is no reason for this line to be in there other than to foreshadow the fact that Mike will eventually have to eat the words from his naive 12-year-old self. He will eventually regret promising something, but he'll feel like he can't go back. Ever.

The domino effect Promise begins:

*Smiling* "And we can go to the Snow Ball."

*Smiling* "Promise?"

*No longer smiling* "Promise."

This promise was made in order to foreshadow that it doesn't come true right? Because that is often what happens to promises narratively, and of course, it can't come to be because they get separated and Mike thinks she's died.

But.... the promise does come true.

So instead, this promise was made, narratively, to trap Mike. While this seems harsh of course, this young Mike has no idea that what he has just promised to himself is not only to go to the Snow Ball with El (which was a promise made to comfort her here, to make her feel like she will survive). He doesn't necessarily seem happy about making this promise. He seems more... indifferent. Knowing that this is something he just has to do.

Yeah, because this is definitely the actors' expressions and lighting and scenery you want for a first kiss, right?

So not only has Mike promised to go to the Snow Ball with her, he has also promised to save her, he has promised to be with her. And he can't break this promise, ever.

Even when his feelings change:

The writers separated Mike and El and put Mike with Will in season 2 for a reason. They used it to build up a good development of Mike and Will's dynamic of course, but it was also to change Mike's feelings.

It eventually becomes apparent to the viewer that Mike has resigned himself to not finding El. In season 2 episode 2, the last time we see Mike on the walkie, he walks away. Music swells and El looks onwards. Instead of looking happy, she seems disappointed that her bond with Mike is not as strong as she thought.

Mike, after his talk with Will in the same room, has begun to give up.

And over time, he figures out that maybe... maybe finding and choosing to Will's friend is the best thing he's ever done instead. Once he figures this out, he cries, he's not loud, he's not angry. But it's at least the thing to bring Will's message forward.

Then El comes back, and Mike feels like a liar.

I've never really figured out why Mike shouts 'LIAR!' many times towards Hopper when he's clearly projecting as he starts to cry. Until now. It's the guilt that he didn't keep his promise. The promise he had made back when El had almost died, back when El had clearly thought promises could never be broken. EVER. Even when feelings change.

Of course he'd felt pissed at Hopper. Hopper was the one to keep El safe, not Mike, which is not the thing he had promised.

When El returns, Mike says:

"I never stopped looking for you."

Woops, Michael, that's a bald-faced lie, and you know it. But he also knows what a promise is, something that can't ever be broken.

Mike is now committed into this relationship. He's ready to keep El as his girlfriend for many reasons, but the next commitments he makes (i.e. saying 'I love you') are not intentional.

In season 3:

Saying 'I love her' happens on accident, she's never meant to hear. The next time he's asked about it, he fumbles and wants to deny ever saying it. But when El says it back, he realises... oh shit. I really am in this now. I can't escape, even though I know my feelings are different.

In the famous words of Hopper. "I don't want things to change." "[I want] to go back to how [we] were."

Throughout summer, before the Mindflayer, his relationship with El was easy, it was fine. He could deal with this because he can still go to movie theatres with Will and his friends and El can't go out in public. His relationship isn't real, and the fights they have are just 'silly, stupid fights'.

But then she says she loves him too and now what? He realises this is real, he can't go back on what he's said again. Because no matter what, a promise can't be broken.

Now:

He has to reject childish things and pretend to be 'normal' (but only around El).

He has to keep away from Will, who has the potential to break his promise to El forever.

He still can't say 'I love you' because of this great big commitment, this potential for change, and El clocks him, despite his best efforts to keep up the same relationship he was trying to have in season 3.

When he no longer has the threat of this great big PROMISE looming over him, when he feels that El has no broken up with him through that note signed 'From, El', he now suddenly has the ability to act close to Will. When he's confident that El's safe and that they just need to get back to Hawkins, he's able to express how he really feels.

He can finally, finally work with Will without feeling guilty.

That is, until El's in danger again. Until Argyle reminds him of the ramifications of his girlfriend being missing, reminding him of the promise that he's always made.

That's when this intimacy with Will suddenly feels taboo again:

The next time he needs to make a commitment towards her, it's through pressure. The bottom line is, Mike likes being a hero, he wants to be a saviour, but he was never ready for it to feel like this.

When Will reminds him that he's the heart of the Party in Surfer Boy Pizza, he believes that it could never be Will that needs him, but that Will's telling him that it really is El that still needs him. And that she always will.

So he holds her hand, exactly like he did back in season one, and makes his Promise again, this time, knowing that he's trapping himself.

Now, instead of a naive kid, he's a teenager, he's changed, despite not wanting to. He's resigning himself to a life without truly being able to express his feelings. He's not just some kid going to the Snow Ball with a girl that he cares about, he's promising to love her, knowing he's trapped himself in this promise again.

After all, he's already promised to save her, and if he thinks saying 'I love you' will save her, he's gotta do it no matter his true feelings right?

In season 5, someone, someone needs to tell this poor boy that he does not need to keep his promise. El needs to tell him about her growth, what she has learned from her time at the lab---that is, that she does not need Mike to love her, which she seems to have understood. She has already accepted that her lover won't arrive at the train station.

And Mike should realise that saying 'I love you' did not in fact save El. It was the reminder to fight, that Max is in trouble, that there are more important things, bigger than their relationship, that allowed her to escape the vines.

So when Mike hears that he no needs to keep up this promise, that he no longer has to hate himself for being a 'liar' to someone he cares so much about, that he can open himself up to happiness and understanding again, he'll probably feel pretty complete.

What do you think?

[allpiesforourown]

I just started watching this movie and have been hit by an idea because bingqiu plague my very soul at every given moment.

So.. santa Shen Yuan?!?

I don't know how he got to it, maybe transmigration or he just came to it somehow. But he does what Santa does every year, and while delivering gifts in a relatively rugged neighbourhood, he comes across a mother-son pair, the mother clearly ailing, so he leaves medicine or something to help her out of it. Every Christmas, the gifts are more personalised as Shen Yuan develops a fondness for Binghe. Binghe being Binghe catches Shen Yuan at 14 and Shen Yuan shushes him before he leaves. He is very entranced at the sight of the man who's been leaving him all those lovely gifts over the years and now he waits every year for Shen Yuan to come, up until he's 18. (Idk if it's valid or actually a thing where Santa doesn't give gifts to adults but for plot reasons, I'm going to make it so, or maybe that's a notion Binghe has adopted from listening to other people talk.) Either way, Binghe now decides that the only way to keep seeing Santa is to keep Santa. Santa Shen Yuan attic wife arc.

bye

Okay anon you can't just say all this without dropping a fic. Also does this mean Ming Fan is Santa Yuan's jealous head elf? Is Binghes dream to be Mrs Clause? Is Shen Jiu Krampus?

[rhiannonsknife]

── ❆ DAY 21: driving home for christmas

— summary: you and jackie decide to go on a road trip for the holidays.

— warnings: friends to lovers. incredibly cliché use of the one-bed trope. inexperienced!reader. fem!reader. implied cheating. nsfw content. so mdni.

the crisp december air nips at your cheeks as you and jackie pack the last of your bags into the car and the engine rumbles softly as you pull out of the college parking lot.

this whole thing had been jackie’s idea; driving back to wiskayok for christmas. you’re both in your first year of college, and the holidays seem like your first chance to escape the chaos of campus.

by some random twist of fate, not only did you end up at the same college, you were assigned as roommates and after all the late-night study sessions and countless cups of coffee together, the idea of spending christmas back home with her felt perfect.

you’d been friends in highschool already, yet ever since you started living together, this friendship had turned into something a little more. at least to you, it had.

it’s comfortable, like so much of your relationship with her. maybe too comfortable, considering you can’t stop thinking about her in ways that friends probably shouldn’t. but it’s there: in the subtle touches, the lingering glances, and the way your heart would leap whenever jackies smiled just for you.

so, that’s how you end up with the car packed full of snacks, blankets, and an overabundance of christmas playlists on burned cds and the two of you hit the road for the five-hour drive to your parents’ places.

the weather is fine at first, and the roads clear. jackie, as usual, is in the passenger seat while you drive, entertaining you with her thoughts or playing with the buttons of the radio. you don’t think much of the way it slowly changes as you drive, the snowflakes gently falling until they hit the windshield, making a soft, rhythmic sound.

jackie’s still humming along to the christmas playlist you put together, the glow of the lights illuminating her face, her breath fogging up the window every now and then as she turns her head to look outside, both of you blissfully unaware of the snow storm rolling in.

“it’s getting colder,” she mumbles as she adjusts her scarf, clearly unsettled by the sudden drop in temperature.

“means we’re getting closer to home” you point out, reaching over to adjust the heat a bit, making sure jackie is comfortable. she gives you a brief smile in return before you turn your eyes back on the road ahead.

as the evening goes on, the sky begins to shift. the further you give, the darker the clouds above grow. before you know it, the snow starts to fall heavily.

the miles to wiskayok seem to stretch on forever, the wind howling outside as the snow picks up, the visibility on the road steadily fading.

you both start joking about how “it probably wouldn’t be a proper christmas if there’s no sudden snow storm in sight”, but as it begins to pile up on the road, it quickly becomes clear to you and jackie that it’s not just the light weather change you’d hoped for.

by the time you reached the halfway point, the roads have become treacherous.

visibility gets worse, the temperature has dropped dangerously low and the snowflakes that seemed sweet and festive at first are now coming down in thick swirling sheets. your cars headlights barely manage to cut through them.

“maybe we should pull over” you finally suggest into the uncomfortable, dawning silence. “just wait the storm out?”

jackie nods in agreement and so you pull off the road at the nearest exit. turns out you’ve got a little luck on your side still: you don’t have to drive around aimlessly for long before you spot the neon sign of a motel.

it certainly looks like it had seen better days, but it’s your only option. so you both unload your bags as quickly as possible and hurry inside, shivering as you finally step into the warmth of the lobby.

the inside, much like the matching exterior, is far from luxurious and jackie -who’s certainly used to better places than this- scrunches up the bridge of her nose in distaste. if she’s got any complaints, she doesn’t verbalize them as you check in for you both.

the clerk behind the counter is nice enough, though it turns out you two aren’t the first people to crash here for the night. matter of fact, you’ll be the last ones: he’s only got one room left. one bed, more precisely. you agree before you can overthink it and take the key from him. it’s not the first time; there were plenty of sleepovers in high school. still, this feels different. everything with jackie feels different these days.

with a few words and payment exchanged, you make your way to the room.

the door creaks open, revealing a small space the two of you will share for the night.

it is exactly what you expected: small, outdated, and cold despite the little wall heater humming loudly in the corner. at least it’s warmer than in your car. jackie steps inside first, flicking on the light to reveal an old armchair, a scratched dresser, and the centerpiece: a bed that looks barely big enough for one person, let alone two. you shut the door behind you, stamping the last remains of snow off your boots.

“well…” she says, her voice as light as jackie can manage, “it’s not exactly...” she trails off, leaving the rest of her sentence unsaid.

“it’s fine,” you reply quickly, rubbing your hands together to warm them up as you glance at the bed. “cozy”

jackie laughs. “if by ‘cozy,’ you mean practically falling off the edge, then sure” she drops her bag by the dresser and kicks off her boots.

you follow suit, peeling off your coat too.

“i’ll take the floor if it’s weird,” you offer, though just the thought of lying on the cold ground makes you wince.

jackie raises a brow. “don’t be silly. it’s fine. we’ve shared a bed before, remember?” she shrugs, already brushing off the idea. “besides, it’s not like we’ll be here long. just until the roads clear”

you nod, desperately trying to ignore the quickened pace of your heartbeat. after all, it’s jackie. your roommate. your friend. “right. just one night”

there’s a long moment of silence as the reality of the situation sinks in. you turn away, focused on digging through your bag for something comfortable to sleep in. jackie does the same, pulling out her pajamas: a set of matching, surprisingly christmassy silky fabric that makes you smile despite the nerves tightening in your chest.

she glances up and catches your amused staring. “what?”

“nothing,” you say quickly, grinning. “i just didn’t know you owned pajamas that…coordinated so well”

jackie rolls her eyes but smiles faintly. “i’ll have you know there’s nothing wrong with being put-together. unlike some people.” she gestures at your mismatched sweats with a teasing smile.

“hey, these are perfectly functional,” you shoot back, shaking your head as you start changing, turning your back to give her some privacy.

even with your back turned to jackie, you feel acutely aware of every sound: her soft sighs, the brush of fabric against skin, the weight of the tension neither of you is acknowledging. or maybe it’s not there at all. maybe you’re imagining it altogether.

you press your eyes shut tightly, trying to make the sounds coming from behind you just background white noise. trying, but failing, to stop imagining her in ways you absolutely should not: her soft skin, the rise and fall of her chest as she pulls her pajama over her head, her…

you have to force yourself to snap out of it, instead focusing on getting into your own pajamas as well.

when you’re both finally changed, jackie tosses her coat over the back of the chair and gestures toward the bed. “go ahead. you look colder!”

you hesitate but finally slip under the covers, sighing as the warmth begins to chase away the lingering chill. jackie slides in next to you (into the little space left there, anyway) her movements deliberate, careful. she stays on her side of the bed, back turned to you, and you do the same, staring at the wall and trying not to notice how the bed dips slightly under her weight.

again, the silence stretches. despite the exhaustion from the long day and the car ride, you can’t seem to settle. you can feel her there, her back impossibly close to you and pressed against your own. the space feels both unbearably small and impossibly wide with neither of you saying another word.

a few minutes pass before you hear jackie shift behind you. her voice is soft, hesitant. “are you awake?”

you turn slightly, craning your neck to glance over your shoulder. “yeah. can’t sleep”

jackie’s quiet for a moment before she exhales sharply. “this bed is too damn small”

you laugh, the sound surprising even you. “it’s not great, no”

she turns then, you can hear the movement until her spine is no longer pressing against yours. when you glance over, her eyes are on you, her expression hard to read in the dark. “this whole trip was a bad idea” she mutters, playing with the small gold charm of her necklace. “we should’ve just flown”

“where’s the fun in that?” you tease, though your voice comes out softer than you intended. “besides, this’ll be a story to tell someday”

jackie lets out a small huff of laughter, her breath ghosting over your skin between your shoulder blades. the little space between you feels even smaller now.

her voice drops, quieter now. “i keep thinking about what it would’ve been like if i’d gone home alone”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just shift onto your side, facing her fully. jackie watches you, her eyes flicking down to your lips for the briefest second before darting away. the room feels much warmer now, and you can’t tell if it’s the heater that has finally decided to do its job or the weight of her gaze.

“you wouldn’t have been alone,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “your parents would’ve been there. jeff-“

jackie winces at the mention of jeff, cutting you off with a quiet, almost sharp, “jeff doesn’t count”

you blink at her sudden reaction, unsure what to make of it. “why doesn’t he count? he’s your boyfriend”

and the reason why you’ve been overthinking every single one of your interactions lately, though you don’t tell her that. you’re not even sure whether or not they’re currently together; it’s a constant on and off between the pair.

jackie lets out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking her head against the pillow. “is he, though?” she doesn’t give you time to answer, rushing on like she’s been holding this in for too long. perhaps the snow storm outside was good for something, after all. “we’ve been together forever because it’s easy, not because it’s…right” she admits.

you frown, your heart clenching a little at the admission. “jackie…”

“he doesn’t see me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “not really, i mean. he just sees…this idea of me, this perfect version of who i’m supposed to be. and i-” she exhales. “i let him. it’s easier than being honest about what i actually want.”

the admission hangs between you, and before you can second-guess it, you reach out, your fingers brushing hers under the blanket. jackie doesn’t pull away. instead, she turns fully toward you, her face so close now that you can see the faint pink blooming on her cheeks.

“well, what do you want?” you ask softly.

jackie doesn’t answer right away. she stares at you, her eyes searching your face like she’s looking for something that she’ll find in your features. “i-“ her voice falters, “forget it. it doesn’t matter”

she’s about to turn away but you stop her.

“it does,” you say firmly, leaning in just a little. “jackie, it matters. whatever it is, you can tell me.”

if it wasn’t before, your heart is definitely racing now. you think -hope- you already know the answer, but you need to hear her say it. you need to know whether or not all these stolen glances and lingering touches in the shared space of your dorm were more than just your imagination playing tricks on you. that they were something, after all.

she lets out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching against yours. “i keep telling myself it’s nothing, that it’ll go away, but it doesn’t. not when you look at me like that, or when you smile, or when we’re in the car for hours, and i don’t want it to end” jackie blurts.

your breath catches. “jackie…”

“i like you,” she tells you suddenly, her voice breaking on the confession. “more than i should. i shouldn’t feel this way about you,” she whispers. “but…i can’t stop”

you don’t give yourself time to overthink it. instead, you close the distance between you, your lips brushing hers softly at first, testing. jackie’s breath hitches, but then she kisses you back, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as if to steady herself.

her lips are warm, slightly chapped from the frosty air and they part against yours with a barely audible gasp. for a heartbeat, jackie doesn’t move, frozen in surprise, but then she melts into the kiss, tilting her head just slightly to deepen it.

her hand finds your cheek, her touch as hesitant as it is desperate. her fingertips are still cold from earlier, sending a shiver down your spine as they graze your jaw. you shift closer, the blankets rustling as your bodies move under the covers.

jackie sighs softly against your lips, the sound close enough to a moan that you can feel it reverberating between your legs. she exhales against your skin, warm and unsteady, as if she’s been holding her breath for far too long. she pulls back just enough to look at you, her forehead still resting against yours, her eyes fluttering open to meet your gaze. her pupils are wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips are slightly puffy from the kiss.

“i- uhm-“ she starts. jackie bites her bottom lip, glancing away for the briefest moment before her gaze flicks back to yours. “was that…okay?”

you can’t help but smile. “that was more than okay” you assure her.

jackie lets out a shaky laugh, her thumb brushing over your cheek in a gesture so tender it makes your breath catch all over again. “i’ve been thinking about that,” she admits softly. “for way longer than i should have.”

“me too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t think you’d ever…”

she doesn’t let you finish and cuts you off with another kiss, firmer this time, her lips pressing into yours with an urgency that makes your stomach flip. there’s no hesitation now, just jackie leaning into you. her hand slips from your cheek to your neck, her thumb grazing your jawline, as she maneuvers herself so that half her weight is resting on top of you.

you make out on the crappy, small bed for what could’ve been hours. there goes your plan of getting up early in the morning to get to wiskayok as soon as possible…

it’s not long, however, before she starts moving down, grinding her hips against the length of your thigh shyly. even though you’re helping her move against you by reaching for her hips, you lean back enough to ask: “are you- is this okay?”

jackie, with her lips tugged between her front teeth, nods breathlessly.

“yes” she says. “yes, please”

as enjoyable as it sounds for her to get off on your leg like this, you’re planning on making some better use of the current situation. it takes some effort to maneuver your bodies without falling off the bed together, but you manage. jackie gasps against your mouth when you toss her around until she’s with her back against the mattress and you’re lingering above her.

“still okay?” you ask, breathlessly. jackie just nods and drapes her arm over your shoulder to pull you back down against her.

before either of you knows it, you’re kissing down jackie taylor’s body, unbuttoning her pajamas as your mouth moves downward. she shivers when the top falls open, revealing a seemingly endless, soft expanse of goosebumps that rise to the touch of your cold fingertips.

jackie laughs when she shivers and gently smiles down at where you’re positioned between her legs.

“come on” she tells you, nodding her chin in your direction and putting her hand to the back of your head. softer, when your hands slide down to her hips to push down her pants, she adds: “please”

you let her keep on the pajama top: it’s too cold to take it off and you won’t have her catching a cold on your watch. instead, you toss the pants over your shoulder, leaning her in a lacy pair of panties.

it dawns upon you suddenly that you’ve never actually gone down on anyone before. you pictured yourself eating her out countless of times, in the comfort of your own room, with jackie sleeping next door. but you never actually had the chance to practice.

from what jackie has told you about her and jeff, their sex life had been merely mediocre. there’s no way in hell, you tell yourself to muster up the courage to take off her underwear, that you’ll be worse in bed than jeff fucking sadecki.

jackie spreads her thighs on the bedsheets when you finally pull down the last item of clothing that’s separating you from where you both want you. she lets you take in the sight of her with a faint, rosy flush of her cheeks.

“like what you see?” jackie mumbles, biting the side of her index finger nervously.

"mhm" you hum, not bothering to meet jackie’s eyes with your gaze still fixated on her. your fingertips carefully trace her outer lips and you watch her way she opens up to your touch. she is pretty, endlessly pretty, and wet with arousal. pink and wanting, framed by curls just a shade darker than her dirty blonde hair.

“i’m sorry i didn’t-“

“don’t” you instantly cut her off, this time looking up to meet her eyes. jackie presses her lips together tightly, which you take as your sign to tell her: “i don't really…know what i'm doing, i guess"

jackie smiles down at you softly, lifting the finger from her mouth to cup your cheek. “that’s okay” she assures. “i’ll show you. i promise it'll feel really good”

“okay” you finally agree, eyes darting back to the task at hand. “yeah, okay”

the very first thing you notice when you put your mouth on her is the way jackie sounds. her raspy voice gets all high-pitched and her fingers tighten in your hair as she mutters a quiet "fuck y/n" under her breath.

then, once that realization has sunken in, you notice the way she tastes. it’s unlike everything you’ve ever had before, so unmistakably jackie that your eyes roll to the back of your head as your tongue glides through her.

eager for more and with jackie’s voice whispering words of encouragement from above, you drag your tongue all the way through her, up to her pulsing clit, where you swirl around it in clockwise circles.

“oh my-“ she slams her free hand over her mouth, her hips jumping from the mattress and her head raising so that she’s looking down at you. “that’s- that’s good”

with jackie’s constant praise you grow more confident and flick your tongue against her clit harsher. her legs instantly tremble around your head as she tries to hold them open for you, her ankles crossing over your back to cage you in. as if you’d ever want to be anywhere but here…

“you- you have to- oh! suck it!” she instructs, her cunt bucking against your face. “just- wrap your lips around it and- oh, that’s it. just like that!”

you hum around jackie’s clit, sending vibrations through her whole body.

“god that’s-“ she presses her lips together tightly for the sake of your neighbors. “it’s so good”

you're craving jackie’s praise at this rate, craving her taste and the way she moans and shivers above you.

"oh, right there!" she gasps, back arching over and over again as she attempts to ride your tongue. “that’s- mhm, right there!”

you're eating jackie out with determination now, eager for her to cum and release all over your mouth. over time, her breathing grows ragged, her hips grinding against you impatiently.

cries and instructions of “a little harder” and “you're doing such a good job” and “just like that” are the only coherent words echoing through the small motel room for the next few minutes, only accompanied by the sound of your tongue lapping up her arousal and your own, occasional moans at the taste of jackie’s pussy.

you could stay there forever, you realize. she could suffocate you with her thighs and you’d thank her.

it won’t take forever, though, because eventually, her breathing grows more ragged, and her body tense as she chants out your name and: “i’m- god your mouth- i’m close”

immediately, you double your efforts, eating jackie out like your life depends on it. like you’ll only ever have this stolen moment, snow still falling heavily outside of the window. maybe you will. maybe it’s all you ever have of her. but if it is, you’ll be damned if you don’t make proper use of it.

you feel it before jackie notices herself; the way she throbs.

“oh my god” she cries out warningly. her eyes meet yours, then, the moment you push her over the edge with one last flick of your tongue.

jackie’s legs clamp around your head, trembling. her hand blindly finds yours on her thigh and squeezes it desperately. you’re not even sure if she notices herself, but you gladly take it, anchoring her as her orgasm washes over her.

her face contorts in pleasure and you watch it happen as she rides it out on your broad tongue.

by the time you finally lean back, with a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to her dripping pussy, she looks down at you hazily. contrary to her breathlessness, her lips curl into an almost proud smile.

“see?” she pants. “you’re a fucking natural”

you wipe your chin with the back of your hands and crawl up her body, into her spread, waiting arms. you lay down on her bare chest and jackie kisses the top of your head, mumbling incoherent ‘thank you’s’ against your hairline.

after a long while of her catching her breath, she’s finally able to add: “i’ll end things with jeff” you lift your head to look up at her, her finger still combing through her head. “for real this time. we’re already on somewhat of a break but…i’ll tell him”

and if that’s not the best early christmas present you could ever receive.

“yeah?”

“yeah” jackie grins. it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen anyone over the announcement that they will breakup with their boyfriend. you kiss her smiling mouth.

“then let’s get some sleep so we can go back home tomorrow, yeah?”

“not yet” she lifts her index and you furrow your brows in confusion. jackie laughs and pulls you down against her. “about time to return the favor”

[lambilegs]

I adore your best friend's older sister! Sevika headcanons, literally been rereading since last night 😫

I had a thought, a little crumb, a little ✨food for thought ✨, but what about Best friend's older sister! Sevika getting jealous. Maybe they aren't together yet and she spots reader getting a lil too cozy with another friend. Or maybe they are together and Sevika is not liking the way reader's coworker is gettin a lil too comfy 👀😤

I've truly thought about this too often lol, sorry for the rambles ♡

best friend's older sister!sevika getting jealous <3

note to anon: BAE DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO <33 and omg thank you so so much!! I'm so happy you like it hehe. so, I decided to expand upon the first idea you gave because it's so so good, though I LOVE both. like, thank you so much for sending these thoughts AHHH <33

so, I totally agree with you that best friend's older sister!sevika would definitely be possessive. it's only worsened pre-confession because you're not hers yet, so she doesn't feel like she has much of a right to do anything about it. at least if you guys were together, she could wrap her arm around your waist or kiss your head, something silent to signify to others that you're hers.

but, as much as you two have teased and been pushing and pulling these past few months, that's all it's been. push, pull, push, pull. no confession, no asking out, no dates. and, listen, sevika doesn't mind the long game necessarily -- she knew from the get go that if she was gonna be pursuing you, it'd have to be serious. she wasn't about to get into some vague, unidentified shit with her sister's best friend. not only would her sister kill her for that, but it's not even what she's interested in in the first place. it's easy to talk to you, to trust you. it's easy to want something longterm with you. but, longterm means she needs to put in the work of trusting you. and for her, that takes a while. so, she doesn't mind the long game.

what she does mind, though, is that taking things slow means that in this whole getting-to-know-you phase, she doesn't know exactly where your head is at. if you want something serious, if you're ready for a relationship. she knows she should be asking you these questions, but as much as she hates to admit it, it makes her uncomfortable to think of being so honest about these feelings of hers. and what being honest could potentially lead to, like a pierce into your guys' relationship, whatever the hell it is.

but, goddammit, is it fucking hard to not grab you, drag you to her room and show you exactly how she feels when you're on the living room couch, canoodling up to one of the girls in yours and her sister's friend group. she knows how it is for you guys. no boundaries, endless amounts of teasing, flirting, nasty jokes. but, that doesn't make it any easier to see you nuzzling your head into one of their shoulders, the two of you swapping and laughing hysterically over suggestive comments about leaving the room to do some "private activities."

sevika grits her teeth from where she can hear the conversation, gripping the handle to the fridge hard. she sucks in a sharp breath, shakes her head, and grabs her bottle of water from the side shelf. shutting it close quietly, she makes her way to her bedroom, sock-clad feet heavy against the wood.

when she walks past your group, practically cuddled in the living room, she nods quietly at the group of you guys, feeling her shoulders tense up when you and her make eye contact. your head darts off your friend's shoulder, and she nearly snickers. you really aren't subtle when it comes to paying her attention. and today, she doesn't feel like returning it, her stomach clenched in anger over the unabashed flirting she just overheard.

she's in the middle of tinkering at her desk, tweaking some annoying shit that keeps making a scraping noise every few hours, when a knock comes to her room.

"yeah?" she mutters, trying not to throw the screwdriver right at the wall.

when you poke your head in, she glances at your momentarily before continuing her work. she hates how her stomach flips at your arrival, how she suddenly feels clumsy with the tools under your gaze.

"what?"

you start from where you lean on her doorframe. "I just, um, wanted to check if we're good?"

"just peachy," she huffs out, dragging her wrist past her brow, which is sticky with sweat. "why?"

"well, um..." you trail off, shifting on your feet. "you usually smile or say hi now, and right now, you didn't."

she feels a flash of irrational annoyance. she doesn't like the fact that you can read her so easily, as though you have her constantly under a microscope. she doesn't wanna have to deal with her jealousy, her feelings, but you cornering and confronting her like this doesn't make that easy.

"I'm fine."

she blinks hard at the gears when her bedroom door softly clicks shut.

"no, you're not. sevika, come on, what's wrong?" you trot over to her desk, standing right next to her, shoving your presence into her space. "tell me."

she sighs, her body stiff with embarrassment and irritation at your stubbornness. god, things would be so much easier if you weren't so damn feisty, always snapping back at her. but, at the same time, though she'd never tell you, she can't help but like your persistence.

"do you have to be so damn flirty with all your friends?" she bites, immediately regretting the words as soon as they shoot out. so much for subtlety.

your head jerks back. "that's why you're upset? sevika, I've always flirted with them, you know that. I'm sure you've seen your fair share of it for years now."

"yeah, well, now, it's different." she keeps her eyes locked onto the desk, and when she realizes just how thinly veiled the implication of her words are, she rushes to add, "now, I think it's risky shit. you know, someone could get the wrong idea."

you scoff. "it's been like this for years. no one will get the wrong idea."

she rolls her eyes, grumbling incoherent words. she knows you're right. she's made her own fair share of jokes like that with her buddies, even the ones she wouldn't be caught dead with in any lifetime. and you're right, your little gang has always been like this. but, none of that helps to dampen the burning irritation that grows in her stomach when she sees you being so touchy with someone who isn't her. with someone who may think they have a chance with you, no matter how slim. she doesn't want you to have options, she wants to be the only one you see in that way.

"and I don't want you to get the wrong idea, either."

she freezes at the words, her hand stilling.

you inch in closer and your warm palm rests on her shoulder. she feels something stir inside her at the touch, wishing you'd slide the rest of your hand down her arm. you guys have touched briefly, sure, but it's usually fleeting, teasing. this, though? this is tender, and -- it's intimate. you're trying to reassure her, she can tell. she knows it's a nice thing to do, but a part of her cringes at the fact that her feelings were so badly concealed that you even needed to comfort her at all. she should be better than this.

"I don't see anyone in my group like that, okay?" you pause, and the silence between you two thickens. right before it becomes suffocating to the point of sevika forcing herself to respond, you add, your voice quiet and shaky, "trust me, it's not my friends whose attention I want like that. just one other person... who's close by."

her nostrils flare, her breaths feeling tighter than before. are you saying what she thinks you are?

"okay," she manages to get out.

"okay." your hand slips from her shoulder, and she feels the cold of your absence as you turn to leave. without thinking, her hand flies up, catching yours.

your head whips to her in surprise, eyes wide and curious.

she thumbs at your pulse point, some of her confidence regaining through feeling how it spikes. but, still, there's an undercurrent of discomfort, so she tries to steady her voice before saying, "you know, I have a pretty good shoulder too."

you laugh, ducking your head down. sevika tries not to pull you in closer, coax you to look at her when she talks. "yes, I'm sure you do," you respond, a sarcastic lilt to your voice.

"well, obviously. you're always checking me out when I work out."

you splutter, eyebrows scrunched indignantly. "well, that's because you insist on working out in front of us always! for all I know, maybe you're the one who's into someone in our group."

your voice is mocking, but sevika hears the tremors of it towards the end. are you nervous that she maybe is into someone else but you? or are you hopeful it's you?

you gave her a bit of assurance, so she might as well return the favour.

"maybe there is someone I'm trying to impress. someone who'd maybe notice that more if they weren't always shoving their face in other people's chests."

she can see how your eyes bulge at the semi-confession, your palm slick with sweat in her hand. your mouth flaps open for a few seconds, before shakily saying, "well, you did offer yourself up as a substitute."

her cheeks ache with how hard she's trying not to grin too widely. "don't get too excited."

you wring your hand from her grip, smiling coyly as you reach for her doorknob. "I'll try to contain myself."

[bonbonly]

Maid reader who is in the kitchen cleaning, maybe on the floor scrubbing something off the tiles and Carlos makes her squirt, making a mess all over again after she’s just cleaned the floors before making her lick it up

MY JAW DROPPED READING THIS OH MY GOD?!?!

bon's thoughts (18+)

college!au carlos is in the kitchen, drinking some water when his mom tells him that she's taking his sisters to some concert that they really wanted to go to. he nods his head, telling her he'll make sure the maid does her job and she pinches his cheek, telling him he's such a sweet boy.

and no sooner is the house empty, he gives you one look and you take off your outfit, and toss them onto the couch, going back to scrubbing the floor. he cranes his neck to get a look at your pussy as you're on all fours, your arms going back and forth as you make sure this one spot in the hallway is thoroughly clean. he spills some of the water onto the ground besides you, and you throw the scrubber into the bucket and glare at him.

"you're so lucky its water, i'm not doing overtime here," you grumble, and his eyes widen as a laugh escapes his throat,

"hermosa, are you talking back?" he asks, and you begin to stutter,

"n-no... i-i'm so sorry, i was just... you see i'm... well... i'm a bit t-tired, that's all. i d-didn't mean to snap at you like that, i'll do overtime as long as y-you want!" you squeak out, hoping he doesn't decide to rip up the check he was supposed to give you last time. that was a whole mess of a day. his parents were in the house and he wanted to fuck you, but you refused since you didn't want to lose your job. his mom had given him the check to give to you and right outside, he tore it up to pieces and handed it to you before placing a kiss on your cheek and saying you didn't do your job properly in his eyes.

"you're sorry, yeah?" he kneels down onto the tiles, and you nod your head,

"i really am, i'm so sorry." you watch him spread your legs, his mouth tugging at your pretty folds as you whimper, quietly. after a few kitten licks of your cunt, he laughs at how you're such a dripping mess for him already and he has his fingers twirl inside you. you moan out loud, grinding into his hands which causes his fingers to stretch you deeper. his fingers slide in and out of you with ease, and as he adds a third, he's going faster. he brings his mouth back onto your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over your pearl as you're mewling out loud, trying to get him to stop because you had to get back to work! who knew when mrs. sainz would get back? you didn't want to explain to her that her precious son was ruining you in the middle of the tiled hallway! he keeps going, and pretty soon you're squirting all over him, screaming out loud as your liquids pool onto the ground.

"oh no!" he says in mock innocence, "another mess! tsk, tsk, tsk, princesa look what you've done. i guess you have to clean it all up now, hm?" he swats the bucket with the scrub away from you and you frown, opening your mouth to argue but he yanks you by your ankles and flips you onto your stomach. your face is inches from your juices on the ground and he grabs a fistful of your hair and brings your head back to face him,

"i want all of this clean with your tongue, mi vida, no scrubs, no water, nothing. just your tongue," and he drops your head back onto the ground, your face hitting your own cum. you grimace a bit at the wetness on your cheek, but you listen anyway hoping he'll give you some tip and you're tongue laps against the tiles. you're unaware that his clothes are gone, and he brings your ass higher into the air before thrusting into you in one go, the air in your lungs being knocked out instantly. you whine out loud about how sensitive you are, but his pace doesn't stop. instead he's going faster, and he shoves your face against the ground,

"i don't remember telling you to stop, princesa, keep going or you might not get your pay today," he smirks, and you nod your head, going back to licking the ground.

[midnight-mourning]

Thaw My Heart

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 9❄️❄️

Another done! Had some fun with this but won't lie, little out of it today due to some meds so this MAY be a bit incoherent, apologies in advance if so. That being said, hope you like it!

Prompt: Oh, this is such a cool idea!! i think my request will be making the DCA like the grinch, hating Christmas because they never got to really enjoy it themselves! Not just Moon- but Sun as well. It’s something they both strangely agree on, they’ll decorate and pretend for the kids, but when the reader is alone working with the both of them or cleaning up after hours, they learn that both actually lowkey DESPISE Christmas… So! The reader has to find out why and fix that! Before the DCA met the reader, they never got to help someone warm up from the cold outside, never kissed someone under mistletoe, never had a reason to bake cookies (they shouldn’t get the kids hyper and they have to consider allergies), nor have they ever had someone get them a Christmas gift! Then, by Christmas, both of them manage to make a very sweet homemade gift, something sentimental and both Sun and Moon are worried sick it isn’t good enough, similarly the reader is scared their gift isn’t good enough either… so just in general- helping the DCA truly learn what Christmas is about and why people like it so much- not for the commercialized reasons!

Word Count: 2597

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You noticed the moment you walk into the Daycare, boxes of holiday decorations in tow, that something's wrong.

Well, maybe wrong isn't quite the right word, but there's something up with the Attendant, that's for certain. Sun's smile doesn't match his tone, strained as he takes note of the items in stacked in your arms.

"Oh? What's all this, friend?" He asks you, but there's something about the way he says it that tells you he is already fully aware.

Still, you brush it off as you misreading things and smile, setting the boxes down nearby. "Decorations of course! Figured we'd go ahead and get started now since the month will go by fast. Want to help?"

"Sure... I would love to..."

Again his tone gives you pause. You turn to glance at him, concerned smile on your face. "Is everything alright?"

Sun seems to realize himself, shaking his head. "Of course! Sorry friend, I didn't mean to worry you. Let's get started!"

"Great! We should be able to get most of them up before the kids arrive." You start to open boxes, pulling out decorations.

"Can't wait."

You do get started, managing to put up the tinsel and wreaths prior to the official start of your shift.

When the kids arrive, they're more than thrilled. In fact, all they can talk about is what holiday crafts and activities you'll be doing this month. You're happy to indulge, but again, you can't help but notice that Sun's acting, off, about the whole ordeal.

You're certain something's wrong when Moon appears for naptime, less than thrilled when the children ask for holiday stories as opposed to his usual. Still, he obliges, despite the strain noticeable in his words as he does so.

It isn't until after the end of the day, when you decide to stay for a bit longer to decorate that you find out the reason for their odd behavior.

You're decorating the mini tree for the security desk when you hear a disgruntled noise from Sun. Peeking over, you see his eyes are narrowed as he examines the small green and white herb in his hands; mistletoe.

Not being able to help yourself now, you decide to speak up. "Are you sure everything is okay? You guys have been kind of off today."

"To be honest, Sunshine. I kind of hate all of this." Sun says, blunt.

You turn to him, eyes wide, not quite the answer you were expecting. "I, oh, I'm so sorry. We don't um, we don't have to do all this if you don't want to—"

His turn to be surprised, seemingly at his own slip up. "Oh no no no, I'm sorry, friend! I don't mean to discourage your fun, or the children’s." His rays shrink and looks away from you, tone bitter. "It's just, well, we've never had a good reason to celebrate, Moon and I."

You frown, setting down the items in your hand as you move over to him, hand on his arm. "Would you, want to talk about it maybe?"

Sun jumps at your touch, looking down. He seems to hesitate a moment, then moves away.

"That's alright, friend! No need to worry about it. It's just a small pet peeve is all."

He moves to the other side of the Daycare, humming a tune now. However, it doesn't go unnoticed by you how tightly he grips the bundle of mistletoe in his hands.

Your frown deepens, concerned and even a bit of sadness seeping in for a moment. Then, you shake your head, a determination setting in as you decide you have to do something about their heavy dislike for the holidays. You don't know their reasoning, and perhaps it was none of your business, but you would do your part to make things right for them, no matter what.

Was it partly because you've had a rather large crush on both sides of the attendant for some time? No, definitely not. Was it absolutely because they were your friends and that regardless of the whether the felt the same for you, you just wanted to make them happy? yes, of course. And if you could cling to that latter fact and ignore the rest, well, that's what you'll do then.

You decided to start small, probe out how much their disdain outweighed their desire to make others happy. Your first idea was prepping crafts for the kids, making a few small things for both attendants yourself. They were receptive, at least you think. 

You were well aware when Sun disliked a piece of art, going so far as to cover it on the bulletin board with something else he preferred, ever the dramatic, you know. But with your little snowflakes, and you roughly cut out tree, those were hung front and center. You took this as a good sign.

The next step was baking, something not actively Christmasy but very well could be. So, you invited them both to join you in the kitchen and bake cookies for the kids and some of the staff. This, while messy, also seemed to go okay. While maybe not overly enthused, they did seem to at least enjoy your company in the work. And maybe you were going a little crazy, but they really seemed to appreciate your time together.

Like when Sun towers over you, hand under your chin as he chuckles. "You've got flour on your nose, Starshine! Let me get that for you." He wiped it off with a swipe of his thumb, but his hand remained for just a few moments more before finally pulling away.

And then later, with Moon as you waited in front of the oven for the cookies to finish, draping a banket over your shoulders and providing you a cup of hot chocolate. Which would have been fine on its own, if he hadn't sat down beside you, arm on your shoulder.

"You seemed a bit cold, can't have you getting sick on us now, right?"

To say you were flustered would be an understatement.

It got much worse when you decide to try watching a few holidays together, without the kids. Alone.

You were used to cozying up with the attendant on occasion, as friends, of course. But this felt different somehow.

Maybe it was how you were snuggled into their lap, their arms around yours as you binged several holiday movies late into the night, well past the end of your shift. How you woke up in that same pose the next morning, not intending at all to have stayed so long. Or in such an, intimate position.

Adding on to that, when you made holiday cards with the kids, you received several from a mysterious secret admirer that you could only assume was the two of them. And while simple, and silly, there was an air of flirting to the little cards you’d found scattered about that made your heart flutter.

It convinced you to finally, shoot your shot, so to say, and decide to commit to the gift ideas you had for them, that went past the bounds of friendship into an actual confession of sorts. You just simply hoped you were right with your thoughts.

The closer the end of the month came however, you felt a shift in the two. They were still indulging you and your ideas, and enjoying your time together, however, you noticed they started to draw back a bit. Become more, nervous perhaps? 

You weren’t quite sure, but it certainly didn’t help your own anxieties that had begun to build again. Maybe you were wrong, and the feelings you believed had been growing had just been all in your head, as usual. But, you were far too gone now to back out of these gifts.

And so, there you stood, awkward and on edge as you wait for Sun to say goodbye to the last child before closing down for the day. Once he does, he whips to face you, hands together, fidgeting.

"Friend."

"Sun." You smile, but your nerves make you worry it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You clear your throat. "I, um, have something for you guys. If that’s, um, alright."

"Oh!" He seems surprised, but also, off put?

"Is, is that okay?" You squeak out, cringing at how your voice rises. 

He turns to face you fully, hands clasped. "Yes. Of course."

"G-great! Well, um." You take a deep breath, presenting the gift you had for Sun first. "Here you go!"

Sun gently takes the wrapped gift in your hands, inspecting it just a moment before meticulously unwrapping it. 

He holds the metal container up, rays flicking a moment. "Crayons?" He asks, voice light, slightly teasing.

"Oil pastels, actually. Thought you could um, expand your horizons!"

"Oh..." He trails off, then lights up. "Oh oh oh! How lovely friend! Thank you!"

You beam. "Of course!"

Sun stares down at the gift for a moment, hand tracing the edge of the box for a moment. 

"Is it alright if I give Moon his?" You ask after a bit more quiet. 

Sun seems to come out of his daze, nodding once. 

A few seconds later, the lights are off, Moon holding his hands out expectantly for his gift. It makes you chuckle, taking a bit of your nervous edge off. 

Once it's in his hands, he tears into it, and because of the nature of what's inside you have to scold him about being more careful.

It's a neatly wrapped collection of books. Your hand grazes over his own as you explain. "You have access to all sorts of titles through your data base I know, but I know you like be able to hold something physically—"

Moon's smile presses to the top of your head for just a moment, shutting you up instantly as he chuckles. 

You cough, ears burning. "Well, um, I'll take it that you like it then?"

"Very much so, Star."

You nod, nerves on high alert as you fidget with the last package hidden under your jacket. 

Moon seems to pick up on your anxiety. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! Yeah I just, um." You shake your head. "Listen, I know you guys have been trying your best to go along with my shenanigans this month, and I've really appreciated it. Truly, I have. So I wanted to give you this, for um, both of you. If that's okay."

Before Moon can say anything further, you shove the gift into his arms, stepping back.

"I know it's kind of awkward since you can't open it at the same time but—"

Something happens then, Sun's rays appear around the sides of Moon's hat, one of his eyes shifting to match the white of the playtime attendant's. 

"We can." They both answer. "Not very often, but just for you, we can make it happen." You swear the bot winks at you for a moment, before opening the present. 

However, the playful nature is gone once they realize what's inside, freezing entirely as they stare down at the large, slightly messy, book. You know why, you weren't exactly subtle with the title of the scrapbook, 'All the things I love about you'. Their hands shake just slightly as they look page through page. And as the silence grows, your smile starts to falter more and more. 

"You, you made this for us?" They ask, tones unreadable in that moment. 

"Yeah, um, I, I did. I just um, I've, I've really liked you, both of you, for so long and I just thought that this would be the chance to show that,"—you swallow, shaking your head—"I care. I care a lot."

Neither speaks. Their faceplate twitching to the side every so often being the only indication they haven't completely crashed. This was a mistake, you realize in that moment. You've read this all wrong, and any kindness they showed you throughout this month was just simply out of the desire to appease you and your stupid holiday traditions.

When they still say nothing, you take a deep breath, starting to make your way towards the Daycare doors. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't, I guess I just misunderstood—I wanted to make something memorable for you both, but I think I've ruined that now and I—"

A hand on your wrist stops you. In a swift movement, you're spun around, pulled in close to the Attendant's chest. Their gaze as they stare down at you is softer than you've ever thought possible. 

"Starlight." They say. 

You swallow again. "Yeah?"

"We're going to kiss you now." Their other hand comes up to your cheek, head tilting. "Is that alright?"

It takes you a second to register what they've said. Then—"Oh! O-okay then."

The Attendant bends down, pressing their smile to your lips. After a few, long, exceedingly tender moments, they pull back. 

They must notice how starstruck you are, as they chuckle then, still holding you close. 

"We have something to confess."

The hand on your chin goes to play with your hair. "To be honest, the reason we've never liked the holidays was because we've never had anyone to share it with."

"We've always been on the sidelines, watching as everyone else gets to partake in the festivities. It was, lonely."

Their gaze comes back to your own. "Until you came along, that is."

More heat rushes to your cheeks. 

"You made us realize that this time of year, it means something to so many people. You made it worth all the years that came before, and made us see that there's something special about it, and, about you."

Before you can say anything, they kiss you again, then step back. "We, we have something for you too, if you'll still accept, that is."

"Yes." You say immediately, then clear your throat. "I mean, yes, of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Another chuckle. "You were just about to walk out the door, Sunbeam. We got a little worried."

You giggle, but find yourself speechless as they pull out their gift to you. It's an intricately patterned bracelet, with multiple connections and chains that are woven together so meticulously. The charms seem to glisten in the low light, twinkling like stars.

"We don't um, have access to a lot, in here, but, well, it's what we have." They look up to you then. "Could we, put it on you?"

You nod. "Please."

They're faceplate spins once, and taking hold of your wrist, they attach the bracelet. It jingles and clinks ever so slightly as they take hold of your handing, squeezing gently. 

"I love it." You say after a moment, free hand reaching up to cup their face. "Thank you."

This gives them pause, they turn away, face spinning rather quickly in a way that makes you laugh. You think if possible they'd be blushing. 

You turn their focus back to you, standing on your tiptoes. "So you really meant it? I've changed your mind? Among, um, other things?"

They answer you with another kiss that makes your heart soar. 

"Yes, among other things."

You nod, once, twice. Then—"Sweet."

The comment makes them laugh, and you join in, only being interrupted by another kiss, to your hand, your cheek, and your lips again. And with how tightly they hold on to you, and how warm you feel in that moment, something tells you there's many more to follow. 

Yeah, you'd consider this quiet the success after all, in more ways than one.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

gahh i tried to go for a bit of extra fluff at the end there, hope it turned out alright! Thank you @cosmic-quakes for the super cute request! Hope i did it justice ^-^

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[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Second Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: edging and overstimulation

Genre: smut

Summary: Some things are not self explanatory, and Steve has decided he's going to fill in the gaps by coming to you to ask his questions about sex and some of those questions have more involved answers than you'd expect

***

You hear a knock at your door while you're looking for something in your closet.

"Coming!" You call, taking a moment to contain the hurricane that you've created in there. You open the door to find Steve in the hall.

"Are you busy?" He asks.

"Not particularly, what's up?"

"I have another question."

"Shoot." You say, gesturing for him to walk into your room.

"Edging. What it is?"

"It is pleasuring yourself or someone else until the brink of orgasm without letting them actually have an orgasm."

"That sounds like torture." Steve frowns.

"Sometimes it is. It can be used as a punishment, some people enjoy it though, it can also be about increasing endurance- you know- training to last longer in bed, it also usually makes the orgasm more intense when you do eventually get to that point."

"Huh, have you done it before?"

"Been on both sides." You shrug. "Oh also I should mention that like most kink terms there is an equal yet opposite complementary term. For edging its complementary term is overstimulation."

"And that is?"

"If edging is about restraint when it comes to pleasure then overstimulation is a hedonistic indulgence in it. Orgasming again and again and again, sometimes to the point of pain this is where a safe word can be useful because you may say things like stop or I can't take it especially because post orgasm sensitivity can be a bitch but the whole point is to keep going and if you've already talked about exploring either edging or overstim, your partner will probably ignore you saying stop because again the point is to keep going even if you are sensitive, but if they're going to ignore you saying it's too much, you need to be able to stop them if it actually is too much."

"Are all aspects of sex so- severe?" He asks.

"No. Sex can be incredibly soft and gentle and sweet, it can be slow and tender in many ways. I mean, you saw some of that last time. You just- happen to have coincidentally questions about the other end of the spectrum today." You shrug.

"It just seems very, intense. Like maybe too intense? I don't get why you would want to put someone through that. It seems like a slippery slope, sex should be about love not some form of- torture."

"Well calm down, you sound panicked and it's not like I'm going to strap you down and force you to experience it. It's not for everyone Steve, different people have different preferences, this is why it's good to have those conversations before you sleep with someone so nobody gets put in a stressful situation they didn't sign up for. Plus there are a lot of ways to express love you know. If your person wants you to do these things then that absolutely shows that you love them, especially if you do them with the care you're meant to."

"I just don't understand it I guess." He shakes his head.

"That's fine Stevie, no one can force you to do it or enjoy it or even comprehend it really. Like I said, it's a personal preference. Just- be honest with your partner when the time comes." You shrug.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you... like this stuff?" Steve asks.

"I do. With the right person."

"Really?"

"You have your ideas about sex, I have mine." You shrug.

"What's that mean?"

"You said sex is about showing love and I agree with that to a point but to me it's also about pleasure. It's about exploring yourself, sometimes through someone else. It's about learning and adventure. The heat and intensity, passion that is borderline all consuming, sex can be many things. I like to experience all of them."

"Oh." He breathes.

"Of course that's just me. I'm not here to change your mind about anything." You hum.

"I have to try this edging thing."

"You don't. The hands on lessons are an option not an obligation, you don't seem interested in that and that's fine! You can just take the verbal explanation and proceed with your day as long as it makes sense to you, there's no reason to force yourself to try something that don't appeal to you." You shake your head.

"Well, it's hard to understand something if you're not open to experiencing it right?"

"I mean, I guess sometimes."

"So I want to experience it. That way I can understand it." He insists.

"As long as you're sure about this."

"I'm sure. Let's do it." He nods.

"What? Now?"

"Do you have time?"

"Depends on what time it is now."

"Three seventeen."

"I've got til six, I have another engagement later this evening."

"Is that enough time?"

"Plenty. Get comfortable, I would recommend getting naked, you do need to at least take off your pants or you'll likely stain them but it'll probably be more comfortable to take off everything because there's a chance you'll get hot. I know you run pretty warm already but I don't know how much you'd enjoy your shirt sticking to your back after twenty minutes." You say.

"Right, yeah." Steve hesitantly shuffles out of his pants and underwear and then, after seemingly debating in his head, he also pulls his shirt over his head and places all of them on your desk chair before sitting on the bed.

"Alright, I'm going to treat this like I would a real situation. Of course, the expectations are different, I know so don't worry about performing a certain way. Just like last time if at any point you have a question or something makes you feel uncomfortable you can simply say so assuming you can focus. If you can't focus use your stoplight. Yellow, or red, just like we discussed before." You tell him as you pull open the drawer by your bed and grab the bottle of lube.

"What's that for?" Steve asks when you squirt a generous amount into your hand.

"It's a lubricant. It might be a little cold at first, but I'm sure you'll appreciate it, especially the longer this goes." You say sitting beside him. "I'm going to touch you now, is that alright?" You ask.

"Yes." Steve nods with more conviction than you'd expect. You wrap your fingers around the base of his dick and he takes in a large breath. His exhale is shaky as you drag your hand up his length with a pressured grip. You circle his tip, slowly massaging it, watching his reactions, enjoying the way his abdomen seems to flex sporadically. His breathing is coming out harsher now and you begin to pump him. Last time you made a point not to stare at him since he was clearly rather nervous about the whole thing but not looking is rather impossible with this 'lesson' so you take the time to really get a look at his dick as you stroke him. The tip is a reddish pink and there are a couple veins running very noticeably along it. You already knew he was big, he's been inside you for fuck's sake, but looking at it unobstructed, boy was he... endowed.

"So how this works Stevie, usually, is that you'll tell me when you're close, ask me, beg me if I tell you to, ask me to cum and I'll tell you if you've earned it. Of course I won't demand all that from you, I'm rather good at reading people's bodies." You explain to him, stroking faster, holding a little bit tighter.

"W-what do you mean usually?" He asks wearily.

"When I do this with partners. There's a bit of power play that comes with this, if you hadn't noticed, having control of how much pleasure your person receives at any given moment. It's a very powerful feeling. But this is more about teaching you than my own enjoyment, so it's a bit different, I'm just offering you more details about the appeal of it all." You explain.

"A-and you- you like that? The p-power play?" He asks. You can tell he's really starting to struggle with his focus, his body is twitching, and he's gripping the sheets, blinking rapidly as he speaks. You watch his whole body tense up and take that as your cue to ease up. You slow your wrist to almost a stop, relishing in the groan Steve lets out.

"I find it can be intoxicating." You smirk.

"So that's how this works?" He pants.

"Pretty much." You nod, picking up speed again. Steve moans as his body jolts again. You can't help but imagine how nice he'd look with a couple of hickeys. You won't be giving him any of course but the idea does captivate you for a brief moment. It's clear that Steve is trying to control his reactions, but the shaky breaths and strained grunts give him away.

"My god." He whispers, tipping his head back. If it was anybody but Steve saying those words, you'd affirm that you are their god and they should worship you as such but it's not somebody else, it's Steve and you'd best keep it simple. When his body tenses up again, you slow your hand accordingly, and Steve lets out a strained groan.

"You know Stevie, you don't have to try so hard to keep quiet. I like your little noises. They're hot." You say.

"I'm not- r-really used to... making n-noises like that." He pants out.

"Well, a bit of advice, most girls like to hear that you're enjoying yourself."

"Really?"

"Yep." You say, stroking him faster, again. You continue your game with him, slowing down when his body tenses up and speeding up when his shuddering breaths quiet. With each denied orgasm his restraint on his vocalizations seems to slip, by the fith time you're slowing down he's an unending string of moans and grunts and even a few whimpers when you squeeze in just the right place.

"This is torture." Steve grits out. His entire body is flushed and his skin is glistening.

"I know but you're doing so well. Just a little longer and I promise I'll reward you. Don't you want that?" You ask with a mocking sweetness in your tone.

"Please." He says breathlessly.

"Oh that sounded nice." You smile. You're not even trying to break him like you would under usual circumstances but the sound him whimpering please to you almost makes you want to.

"Y/n- I feel, like I'm on fire. Please I need to cum." Steve huffs through clenched teeth and you start to wonder if he's reaching his limit. Gripping his chin you gently tilt his head to look at you.

"Checking in Stevie, gimme a color please." You say softly.

"G-green, this is insane." He says shakily.

"You haven't tapped out yet." You smile slightly.

"Is that the goal?"

"Not today." You wink at him. You decide it's probably best to stop here, so you pick up your speed again watching for the telltale signs of his orgasm but this time you finally let him peak and you can't decide if the sound or sight is more dazzling. Either way, you work him through it as evidence of his release spurts over your hand and his thighs in thick ropes. There's an impressive amount of it and you wonder if this is a super soldier thing or if he's just really pent up. When nothing else comes out and he hisses against your touch you let him go. "I'm gonna get a wash cloth, hang tight." You tell him standing from the bed and walking into your bathroom. You rinse your hand first and then soak a washcloth with room temperature water. When you pop back out his arm is draped over his eyes but he otherwise hasn't moved. You start with his neck, wiping the sweat that's probably made his skin sticky. You do a quick swipe across his chest too before moving on to cleaning the remenants of his orgasm from his thighs and recovering dick. "How are we feeling?" You ask him once he's clean. You toss the washcloth in your hamper and grab a water from your mini fridge before sitting beside him on the bed.

"That was- intense." He says.

"Yes but you knew that going in."

"I mean- when you finally let me, you know. It was intense- probably more so than I've ever felt." He says and you giggle at his avoidance of saying orgasm.

"We should really work on your comfortablilty with some of these terms. But yes that intensity is a high some people crave."

"Wow."

"Was it worth it?" You ask.

"What?"

"You said it was the most intense orgasm you've ever had, would you say the payoff was worth the buildup? After all you called it torture."

"You're not even nice about it."

"I was actually very nice, I didn't wait til you were crying to get you off which- is usually what I'll do."

"You make people cry?" He blinks surprised.

"Sometimes." You shrug.

"That's- further than I-"

"I know, that's why I didn't make you cry. Although crying is way more likely with overstimultion anyhow." You shrug.

"Is it?"

"Wanna see for yourself?" You ask opening your bedside drawer again.

"Well I'm not sure I can hand-"

"Here." You drop one of your toys in his hand.

"What's this?"

"A vibrator. I figure it's not fair if every lesson is just me doing things to you like some sort of lab rat so I thought you might want to try overstimulating me. The only other way for that to happen is for you to learn my body but who has time for that? This is efficient and pretty much idiot proof it'll get the job done regardless of your personal experience." You shrug.

"You- want me to use this on you?" He asks wide eyes watching you quickly take off your clothes.

"Yes I do. It's simple, I promise. It does most of the work for you. If you have the energy for it that is." You say.

"Depends on just how simple it is." He says. You sit on the bed next to him and grab his wrist, placing the vibrator in his hand against your clit. It's not on but your insides still clench in anticipation when it touches you.

"Put it here, small circles or wiggling it up and down is fine but keep it in this general area, start with light pressure and press harder as we go. I'll be using the same stoplight system, so here's a couple of preliminary warnings, if I squirm away follow me or hold me down, if I cry that's fine, if I scream let me, ignore me if I ask you to stop or say it's too much. In fact, no matter what, you keep this against me until I call red and I will call red. Sound simple enough?"

"You might cry and that's a good thing?" He frowns.

"It's not a bad thing. It probably won't happen anyway I'm just covering my bases no need to look so terrified." You chuckle.

"How do I turn this on?" He asks after a moment.

"The last button."

"What are the other two?"

"One controls the rhythym and the other controls the power, don't mess with those buttons. For the sake of this lesson they are off limits."

"Last one turns it on?"

"Yes." You nod. Steve stares at the buttons for a moment before a sharp click fills the silence and you jolt from the sudden stimulation. He moves the toy in tight circles, his face pinched in focus. Your hips grind against the vibrator and it doesn't take long for your first orgasm to hit you with a soft moan.

"Oh." Steve says, as if he's surprised.

"Keep going, add pressure." You huff out. Shuddering pants indicate that Steve's done what you asked, your muscles tensing from the continued pleasure post orgasm. The thing with this particular vibrator is that it works quick and you hardly manage to calm down before your second orgasm sneaks up on you. Steve trades the circles for little up and down motions that draw a couple sharp moans from you. 

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Fine Stevie, I'm fine." You say shakily. Your third orgasm comes with a cry through your closed mouth. You know it's impractical to be so mindful of your sounds but you've got to remain at least semi-composed to be of any help to Steve. More and more your body spasms as the stimulation continues, practically twitching from the pleasure. Small whimpers begin to escape with more frequency as you quickly approach orgasm four. On this one your eyes roll back and you allow an obscene sounding high pitched moan to fall from your lips. Steve makes a sound somewhere in his throat which you barely hear. You're starting to feel that bite of overstimulation layering under the pleasure and it makes you squirm. You jerk against the toy, hoping for a reprieve from the buzzing and Steve, the dilligent student that he is, places a hand across your stomach, holding you in place and all you can do is cry out as he presses the vibrator firmly against your clit. You grip the sheets tightly as he starts to make little circles around your too sensitive bundle of nerves, your whole body is shaking as another orgasm quickly creeps up on you with a squealing noise and string of curses. You can feel your brain getting fuzzy, that familiar hedonistic haze threatens to blanket your thoughts, you know if you don't stop Steve soon you'll be far too blissed out to do so and Steve is not equipped to handle that sort of headspace.

"Okay, red. That's enough Stevie." You say breathlessly but firm. Steve quickly moves the toy but struggles to turn it off so you take it from him and turn it off yourself. You take a couple of moments to recompose yourself, ignoring the phantom buzzing and overwhelming wetness between your legs when you sit up and pull your knees to your chest.

"Are you alright? Do you need water? Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine Stevie. How are you feeling?"

"Me? I wasn't the one-"

"The whole point of this was to see if you enjoyed either edging or overstim- having tried both, do you feel like you at least have a better understanding of them like you wanted?"

"I- guess I have a better understanding."

"Well what're you thinking?"

"I thought I would- hate the edging thing but, as... intense as it was there was something, freeing about it? Like getting on a ride at Coney Island and the ending was, worth the build up."

"And overstimulation?"

"It's incredible watching the way your body reacts to such an onslaught. Plus the idea of bringing your lover imense pleasure like that is undeniably delicious, I can see how that kind of thing can be so thrilling."

"Well there you go. Questions answered. You're free to leave." You say.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm fine Steve I'm just going to hop in the shower you've got nothing to worry about really. I've got other things on my schedule of today remember?"

"Alright- if you're sure. I'll see you around. Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks. See ya." You say. Steve seems hesitant to leave but without a reason to stay, he has to shuffle his way out. You let out a sigh after your door closes. You've got a couple hours before your evening plans, good thing, you'll need it. Hopefully one of these days Steve will ask a simple question with a simple answer that doesn't a demonstration.

***

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